#The fact that killing is where Bruce and the other Bats draw the line is fucking comical af

[jasontoddsno1simp]

@jjaysontodd

Yeah, asks typically stay off because I've been on this hell site for ten years (made my first account back in 2013) and I've been subjected to some SHIT!!

Could be convinced to turn them on, though~

Anyway, the name of the game when it comes to Jason Todd is gaslight gatekeep girlboss, because there is no way in hell some of these bitches rly think he's as bad as they say he is. Especially when you compare his shenanigans to the shenanigans of characters like Bruce or even Tim.

Yes, he kills people. Yes, he can be pretty uncaring about the collateral of his plqns.

But guess what?!

SO IS EVERYONE ELSE!!

The only difference is that we, as Jason Todd enjoyers, know what we're here for.

As for the Helena stans and their beef with Jason, idk what to tell ya, mate. Well, other than it's madness, of course!!

There's definitely a convo to be had about male characters getting more space to be complex than female characters, but that's not what's going here. What's going on here is a treasure trove of fandom feminists have decided that Jason has far too many ~feminine~ traits and that he doesn't deserve to have the support he has within the fandom. Why they’ve come to this conclusion is so inane and idiotic, I refuse to dignify it with a response, but it’s that type of shit why I rly want us to go back to the days of decentralized fandom spaces. Spaces where mods actually had the power to cull and reject nonsense, before it started to spread like a virus. It wasn’t perfect (it bred an air of smug exclusivity that stank of unwashed ass), but it’s better than having to deal with assholes spreading liberal nonsense like”Jason Todd is a cop cause he kills and uses guns”.

As if cops are only dangerous because of the extra judicial killings and the apparatus most associated with them 😒😒😒

Anyway, I would bet money that most of those so called Helena stans don't even care about her like that as a character; they just hate Jason.

Which kinda sucks, cause I find Hintress - like all the Gotham vigilantes - to be fascinating characters. But my want to actually pursue any new info on her has been dead on arrival, because her stans are fucking assholes.

Bottom line, Jason’s story resonates with a lot of people. If you don’t get it or can’t bring yourself to understand, then like… Don’t. You don’t have to. The world would be so much better off if people learned that sometimes… the media you consume is just as personal as it what it says about you publicly.

[lily-drake]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE-WAYNE, THE BEST BAT BOY OF THEM ALL!!! YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND!!!!!!

Happy Birthday Tim

Tim never really cared for his birthday, afterall nobody ever remembered it, and he doubted that Bruce would care.  He had never shown much of an interest in him, which was fine since he wasn’t supposed to get close to him.  His entire job as Robin was to make sure Batman didn’t go crazy, he wasn’t supposed to get attached.  So he didn’t, at least that’s what he told himself.  It was around 10:45 PM when Tim went upstairs at Alfred’s request.  Timidly the 14 year old walked into the kitchen only to be met with a small white cake.  Upon closer inspection the cake had red and green letting that spelled out in neat scroll, “Happy Birthday Timothy” with perfectly cut strawberries decorating the sides.  Tim stared at the cake in awe, he’d never been given a birthday cake before, except at galas; but that didn’t count as he wasn’t really aloud to eat any.

“Good to see you up here Master Timothy.  Happy birthday young sir.  I apologize for the others absence, but I’m afraid that they are ‘busy’.”

Tim swiftlet lifted up his arms in a placating manner,

“Oh no, it’s fine.  Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t want to bother anyone.”

Alfred gave him a small smile and nodded.

“Well, I believe that it is time for a bit of cake.”

Alfred walked around the counter and pulled out a plate, for, and knife before he cut a large piece and plated it.  Tim held back tears as he took his first bite of the cake.  This was the best cake he had ever had, and this was definitely his favorite birthday.

*******

Tim stared at the computer screen in front of him trying to figure out what he was missing.  He was tired, he hadn’t slept in a few days, and he was on his 8th cup of coffee from that hour alone.

“Tim, come with me!”

Dick said, suddenly on his right side.  Out of habit he turned and threw a punch at him.  Dick quickly ducked and laughed.

“Your getting faster baby bird.”

Tim sighed and rolled his eyes turning back to the computer.

“What do you need, Dick?”

He asked typing something onto the screen and scrunching his brow in frustration at the facts in front of him.  Dick rolled his eyes and sighed before he grabbed Tim and pulled him from the computer chair and onto his feet.  Tim groaned and tried to pull away in protest, but Dick overpowered him and he was dragged up the stairs.  Tim looked around to see where he was so he could make a quick escape if necessary.  When he looked forward again he saw he was being dragged to one of the main room doors.  He was thinking and going through all of the things he could have missed or forgotten, but nothing came to mind.  When the door opened the lights were off until they suddenly turned on and loud voices screamed,

“Happy birthday!”

From all around the room.  Tim blinked a few times everything catching up to him as he looked around and saw his family; Bruce, Alfred, Barbara, Stephanie, Cass, and Dick all around him.  The room was covered in decorations and on the table sat a decent sized 3 tier cake, just like the one he had had when turned fourteen, but bigger.  Tim ran through his memory and tried to recall what the date was and froze.  Oh, it was his 16th birthday, he had forgotten all about it.  He was pulled out of his stooped by Steph grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the table were 16 candles lined the rim of the cake and in the center it said, “Happy 16th Birthday Tim!” in the neatest cursive with a robin made of frosting right below it.  There was also neatly plated and perfectly made sushi on another table near them.  Tim smiled as everyone began to sing happy birthday to him and when he was done he blew out the candles happy and content with his day.  There was so much warmth that spread through his chest as he talked and ate cake with his family.  So much joy that surrounded the manor, he even saw Bruce smile.  Tim didn’t need to wish for anything, he was happy, and that’s all he could ever wish for.

*******

Tim looked at his watch and frowned.  He was now officially 19, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered much now.  He was alone in Paris training with Lady Shiva, and his family didn’t care.  They were the ones who kicked him out afterall, he wasn’t wanted.  He sat under a shady tree bench in the park and watched as people talked and interacted with eachother.  It was peaceful, but that didn’t fill the hollowness he felt in his chest.  As he stood and began to walk away he felt someone crash into him and fell foreword, someone landing on his back.  Quickly the person got up and began to call out apologies obviously embarrassed.  Tim got up and turned around and came face to face with a girl about his age with dark black hair that tinted blue in the light and show startlingly bright bluebell eyes.  The girl was still talking and he wasn’t sure if she had even breathed yet.

“Hey, it’s ok.  Don’t worry about it.”

The girl immediately bit her lip and bowed her head as she tried to hide her face.  Tim smiled at the girl who was slightly shorter than him.

“I’m Tim.”

He said casually as he held out his hand.  The girl gave an awkward smile before excepting his hand and giving it a firm shake.

“Marinette.  Sorry again.”

“It’s nice to meet you Marinette.  Do you know where any good coffee shops are, I haven’t slept in a while and I really need a pick me up to finish my things.”

Marinette lit up and nodded.

“I totally understand.  I design and commissions keep me up all night half the time.  I live in a bakery and have concocted the best wake up coffee.  My friends say it’s very dangerous and I’m going to kill myself with it one day, but all well.  Why sleep when you can get things done?!”

Tim smiled at the girl as she began to walk and talk.  She was cute and was very dramatic in the way she spoke and expressed herself.  They walked across the street to a small bakery, the one Marinette must live in, and walked to the front where a short Asian woman stood near the register.  When the woman saw Marinette her smile grew as she welcomed them.

“I’m gonna make one of my specials for him!”

Marinette called out as she went to the back and started making some kind of coffee concoction.  The woman rolled her eyes, but she still held an amused smile.

“Hello, I’m Sabine.  Please choose a sweet, you’ll need it if you’re going to drink her “Miracle Cure”, as the college students like to call it.”

“Thank miss.  Please, call me Tim.”

He said giving her a small smile back as he browsed the selection.  In the display he noticed lots of animal themed treats and smiled.  There were many ladybug and cat themed ones as well as an orange fox, a turtle, a bee, a blue snake, a monkey, and a red dragon.  It was an interesting choice of animals and he wondered if they were important in some way here.  He found a small tarte aux fruits with an assortment of fruits that formed the red dragon.  When he looked up he saw the woman waiting for him still wearing her friendly smile.

“Could I please have the Tarte aux fruits du dragon please?”

“Of course dear.”

Carefully she opened the door to the refrigerated case and grabbed one of the fruit tarts and carefully put it in a small box.  Tim went to the register right as Marinette had finished and placed the large drink in front of him.  He pulled out his wallet but was stopped by Marinette’s hand.

“Nope, on the house.  An apology for earlier.”

She said with a bright smile.  Tim was shocked and felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in years begin to bloom once again.  He gently took the coffee from her hands and carefully picked up the small box with a plastic fork atop it.

“Thank you, Marinette.  That’s very kind of you.”

Her smile brightened and before Tim could stop or even think of what he was saying the words had already left his mouth,

“If you’re free, do you want to walk around Paris with me?”

Marinette blinked for a moment shocked, but then smiled again and nodded.

“Sure, that sounds nice!”

She took off the apron she had been wearing while making the coffee and hung it up on a wrack before walking out from behind the counter snd grabbing his arm and almost dragging him out the door.  When she realized what she was doing she quickly dropped it slightly blushing and scratched the back of her neck in embarrassment.

“S-sorry.  I should have asked first.”

Tim snickered a little, she was adorable.

“No it’s fine, so where to first?”

Tim asked as he gently placed the tart in his satchel and sipped the coffee.  When he did he felt his mind begin to clear and he felt more awake than he had in a long time.  He understood why it was called Miracle Cure now, this stuff was amazing!

“Well, where were you thinking of?”

“I was thinking of going to the Arc de Triomphe then head towards the Effiel Tower.”

Marinette beamed and nodded and began to walk towards the Arc de Triomphe.  She knew the path by heart as she often went there for inspiration.  The two talked the whole way there and bonded over their love of coffee and insomniac tendencies.  As they arrived at their first destination the sat on the steps and watched people pass them.  Tim pulled out the small tart and began to slowly eat it and smiled.  It tasted like Alfred’s cooking, though he didn’t want to admit that this might just be a bit better.  He glanced over at Marinette and noticed that she now had a sketchbook out and was drawing something.  He didn’t want to disturb her as he didn’t like being interrupted when he was really into something and let her draw as he watched the people.  Suddenly there was a loud crash.  He looked up and was shocked to see a giant child walking around smashing and destroying buildings.  He looked over and saw that Marinette had disappeared and he began to panic.

He stood up and began to move so he could get a better place to watch and analyze what was happening so that he could see if he needed to interfere.  He watched silently from a roof and saw a bunch of people begin to surround the child all with the same theme.  His mind flashed to the animals in the bakery and connected the dots as he glanced at all of the different people in animal costumes.  He watched as the Ladybug ordered everyone on the plan and on what to do which lead him to believe that she was the leader of this group.  It only took a few minutes and he watched the cat hero completely destroy a toy car from the giant child’s hand and a purple feather and butterfly flew out.  The ladybug hero quickly caught them and released them into the air.  She threw the object she had summoned into the air and he watched in amazement as thousands, maybe millions, of small ladybugs flew around the damage done and repaired all of it, including the bodies that had not been moving moments ago.

Tim ran back to the Arc de Triomphe and waited there to see if Marinette would come back.  It took a few minutes and then he saw her figure running towards him with panic and worry.

“Tim, I’m so sorry!  Are you ok?  I shouldn’t have left like that, I’m so sorry.”

Tim gave her an awkward smile and nodded.

“It’s fine, you came back afterall.”

She smiled at him and he lifted his arm out for her to take,

“Shall we continue our walk Mademoiselle?”

Tim asked with a slight bow.  Marinette giggled and gave a small curtsy before she placed her hand atop of his.

“Why of course Monsieur.”

They both laughed as they walked.  They enjoyed the silence for a bit before Tim asked what had happened.

Marinette gave him a sad sigh and explained the situation that had been happening in Paris for about 4 years now.  Tim was shocked that this hadn’t made it to the Justuce League, especially if it had been happening for four entire years.  Tim asked a few more questions that Marinette happily answered and they felt happy and content in the warm companionable silence.  Tim thought of all of his past birthdays, and he knew that this one was on the top 5 best list of his favorite birthdays.

[purple-goo-writes]

Drowning in Hellfire

Really this was rather cliché if he thought about it. Once again, Tim had been kidnapped by Ra's Al Ghul. Honestly, the young detective wished that the immortal would get another fucking hobby. Though something about this attempt felt different then the others. Perhaps it was the fact that he was tied and shackled over the bubbling depths of a previously unknown Lazarus Pit. Or the fact he couldn't recall just how he had been captured in the first place?

Or maybe it was the fact that he knew with absolute certainty that no one was going to come for him?

No one was coming for him. Tim already knew this, after all he was estranged from the rest of the so-called Batfamily. Had been for a few years now. Since Bruce was lost in the time stream and the brat took his place. Even when he managed to find evidence and bring Bruce back, bring Batman home... He couldn't go back. Not when half of the family wanted him dead or nothing to do with him. The only one he had held on for was Bruce, but that changed when he had tried to kill Boomerang. Even though he had pulled back and stopped himself, the Bat couldn't forgive his perfect little soldier for slipping. No matter that Jason kills nearly every day.

Slowly, Red Robin had started distancing himself from everyone; the Bats, the Titans, His Team. Too many hurts, too many lies, too much miscommunication had broken the trust on both sides. Soon enough Red Robin disappeared from Gotham all together. Popping up now and then in other cities, under a new name with a new suit... but never staying long.

Never contacting anyone.

Which proved to be his downfall. Apparently Ra's was waiting for this to happen. After all, he was a centuries old leader of a league of ninja assassins. Ra's knows how to be patient, to bide his time, to watch from the shadows as his prey played right into his hand. He had experience with this after all.

No one was coming for him, the former Robin realized with a sense of dread that crawled slowly down his spine whilst realization of his coming demise tightened like a noose around his throat. If he had just kept contact, no matter the growing divide between him and his family, his friends, his Team. If he had just reached out instead of waiting/praying they would see just how much Tim was hurting. That they would see he was drowning under all that had happened.

He gulped, unable to speak due to Ra's hand clamped like a vice over his mouth, unable to pull away from the sword biting into his throat right on top of the scar that Jason had gifted him upon his Return. Tim wasn't able to talk himself out of this, couldn't play any of his cards and couldn't escape from the jaws of Death as they slowly drew closer.

This time Ra's had won.

And he knew it.

"I grow tired of waiting for you to come willingly to my side, Detective," Ra's sneered, pressing the sharp edge tighter against his throat, drawing a bright line of red to the surface as the scar reopened under the force. Tim felt his heart pounding in his ears, eyes widening further behind the whites of his lenses. Before he could protest, plead, retaliate... do anything to stop the inevitable, a spray of red arched into the air decorating the bubbling green below as it fell.

Ra's looked down at the young vigilante, unfeeling as some blood splashed onto him, dripping down slowly from where it landed, sliding easily down the edge of his sword and covering his hand. Tim struggled to breath against the rising red, bubbling and frothing in his throat, cutting off what little air he could get. The former bat could only lean weakly against his enemy as the life slowly drained from him as more red spilled down his chest painted the front of his uniform, in an almost mocking rendition of his once name. Could only gasp weakly behind Ra’s hand as his vision started to slowly dim around the edges, a chilling heaviness dripping into his bones with each struggling gasp.

“Perhaps now you will come around to my way of thinking, dear Timothy,” Ra’s purred, gently tipping the young man off of the ledge with a soft push of the hand that had once held him in place. A mocking gesture, Tim thought struggling to form even that coherent thought as the chains and shackles he was encased in dragged him ever closer to the bubbling waters below. The final nail in my coffin…

Tim could only scream in ragged breaths as he hit the burning green, frothing red mixing with bubbling green around him as the young detective sunk to the bottom of the cursed pool. It felt as if he was drowning in hellfire, the crushing green surrounding him whilst his screams only drug the green deeper within his being. His vision fading and flashing before he finally lost consciousness, body floating still at the bottom of the Pit.

It seemed like eternity as the bubbling waters slowly went still, no longer a murky mix as red stopped rising to the surface. The glowing depths calm now, eerily so.

At the bottom, hidden behind cracked white lenses, the young man’s eyes snapped open glowing the same bright green as the waters surrounding him. Burning with a cold hellfire as a primal scream ripped from the now unscarred throat swallowed by the green.

[chibinightowl]

For the WIP ask game, Fire and Brimstone?

Fire and Brimstone is a Stray!Tim fic where Tim becomes Stray after a disagreement with Bruce that leaves him severely disillusioned with the man and his mission. He vanishes from Gotham for a time, leaving behind clues and hints that lead Bruce on a merry chase around the globe searching for Red Robin when he is in fact in Gotham now acting as Stray. Tim hires Jason on occasion, mostly for explosions, and things start to heat up between them. Jason has no idea Stray is Tim, the very same bird he's almost killed in the past.

I have a rather explosive opening scene started, but for the life of me, I can't remember what direction I wanted this to go in. Rereading the WIP, it feels like I have a darker fic going here, one where Tim is pulling all the strings.

Here's a snippet under the cut.

BOOM!

The explosion rocked through the night, sending brick, mortar, and scrap metal flying through the air. Dust rose up, but there’s surprisingly little fire. Jason knew what he was doing and causing a massive ball of flame to shoot into the sky wasn’t on the agenda tonight. He’s pleased with the resulting collapse of the building he rigged to detonate, even if no one else was.

Well, perhaps one other person.

Crouched next to him on the roof of a building a few blocks away from the blast zone is his partner in crime for the night. Or was that his employer?

Stray pouted prettily as he took in the sight. “I thought there’d be more fire.”

Under his helmet, Jason rolled his eyes. Typical. “You didn’t pay me to rain down fire and brimstone. You paid me for neat and clean. Fire means more chemicals and chemicals are easier to trace.”

“I wouldn’t have let that happen,” the cat replied somewhat testily. He stood and stretched, and man, Jason was glad for his helmet sometimes. At least with it on, he could stare all he wanted. Stray was a pain in his ass most of the time, but damn did he look good while running that mouth of his.

Or he thought he did. Jason had never seen the man’s face before. Stray was an enigma and only occasionally was he the fun kind. It annoyed him to no end that the damned cat knew who he was while he had no fucking clue. Not that he ever made a big deal out of it, but the threat of it was usually a good way to get him to toe the line when he was being obstinate. His words. Jason knew he was stubborn as hell. Dying and coming back only made it worse.

“Yeah, sure. You’re good with that computer of yours, but you’re no Oracle.” Jason started putting the detonator in his pocket, but before he knew it, he was flat on his back with a very pissed off Stray crouched on his chest. Gravel from the roof dug into his legs somewhat unpleasantly through his thin jeans. He hadn’t worn body armor tonight, not expecting a fight. Jobs like that, he was warned up front.

“If I wanted your opinion on my computer skills, I’d pay you extra,” the man hissed. His gloved fingers dug into Jason’s shoulders.

Jason could figure about a dozen different ways to get the cat off his chest but all of them involved his jacket getting ripped to shreds. Those nails on his gloves were sharp. He’d seen him claw a man’s face off with them once. Whoever he was, Stray could fight. He didn’t need the gloves, but damn, were they an effective distraction.

“Well, consider that one on the house then,” Jason retorted. “We done here?”

After this little interlude, his chances of anything more entertaining with the cat were slim to none. Rarely, very rarely, did Stray play around after a job was over like his supposed mentor did. But when he was in the mood…well, bats had a habit of chasing after cats and it was honestly anyone’s guess over who was the predator and who was the prey. Roof top tag turned into make-out sessions that only recently started turning into back alley blowjobs. To the victor goes the spoils and all that.

Jason still fantasized about the first time he dropped to his knees in front of Stray, drawing that cleverly hidden zipper down his chest as he did. Those wicked claws tangled in his hair, pulling so good before gripping his head tightly and shoving his mouth further down on the cat’s cock.

Yeah, that wasn’t happening tonight. Even through his oddly green goggles, he could tell Stray was glaring at him. He’d been raised by Batman, of course he knew how to tell when he was being glared at.

Stray’s lips twisted into a sneer. “We’re done.”

“That’s funny because I don’t think either of you are quite done here,” a new voice chimed in.

[twdeadlysins]

not the same

pairing: loki laufeyson x reader word count: 1.5k+ summary: you’re used to death because you can see the dead, but nothing prepared you for this. // set during infinity war  warnings: infinity war spoilers,  major angst, a hint of fluff if you squint, usual marvel themes, and possible typos by yours truly  a/n: get the tissues bc this one hurts my soul 

gif is not mine 

He won. 

Thanos won despite all your efforts — despite all the small victories along the way. It really seemed like you were winning and getting the advantage, but maybe you let that get to your head too much. 

Maybe, it just wasn’t enough. 

No matter how hard you and everyone on your side tried. 

Vision died at the hand of Thanos while fifty-percent of the population turned into dust, some right in front of your eyes that were soon blurred by tears. 

How were you going to get them back? 

Your knees had given out and collided with the ground after witnessing Bucky turn into ash and his gun meet the dirt. 

Staring at the spot he once occupied, you even didn’t comprehend Steve trudge over to where his best friend had once stood until he called out your name. You averted your eyes to the blonde with a tear streaming down your dirty and bloody covered cheek, mouth slightly agape with shock and realization at what just happened to all your friends — to your family. 

“Y/N, can you see them?”

Attempting to blink the tears away, you sharply inhaled and wandered your eyes around frantically before peering back at the captain with a shake of your head. He combed his fingers through his locks with a defeated sigh as he moved from his crouched position to sit down and hang his head. 

The power you had wasn’t exactly the most helpful in fighting bad guys, but it proved handy only if the person no longer existed. 

Seeing the dead wasn’t something you were born with, it occurred when you had a near death experience. 

Kinda ironic. 

The city was under attack and there was an explosion at the cafe you regularly visited. You had flat-lined twice on the operating table and when you woke up, you were met with Tony Stark. 

He felt responsible since he couldn’t prevent the explosion and wanted to make sure you were okay. You were in shock, not only because the Tony Stark was in your presence, but your deceased father was in the room.

Tony wanted you to be a part of the Avengers, promising that he and Bruce could aid you in learning and adapting to your new ability. You didn’t think you and your new found “superpower” was worthy of being part of the team, but you accepted nonetheless. 

Figuring out your ability was when you also met Loki.

In order for him to stay with the Avengers, he was forced to work with you, Bruce, and Tony in your training and experiments as some sort of punishment.  

At first, Loki was a bit of an annoyance, always making snide comments since it was obvious he didn’t want to be there — but they were never directed at you. With the help of the God, you eventually learned that you could summon the dead, but only if they allowed you to — they could choose to stay or leave. 

Although most of the time, it was out of your control. 

People would show up out of nowhere and you had to concentrate on shutting them out — to decide on whether or not they could be there. 

Eventually it was a two way street, either you both agreed to see each other or one of you declined. 

During your training sessions whether it be sparring or the fact that you could see the dead, you grew fond of the mischievous man. The two of you soon spent time together outside of your work, learning more about one another and it led into something more — a bond — an undeniable connection — love.  

Loki understood the thoughts and concerns you had about seeing ghosts, and the emotional toll it brought upon you. He helped you in any way he could and you did the same for him when he was fighting his demons and his past. 

He wanted to be a better person — for you. You were his motivation — his light at the end of a dark and seemingly never-ending tunnel. 

“Y/N?”

The blank stare you had on the ground jumped up, orbs searching your surroundings with confusion and desperation. 

It was Loki. 

Thor had come down with a strike of lightning in the midst of battle, accompanied with unfamiliar guests to join the fight. Loki must’ve been with him and you didn’t notice somehow. 

“Loki? Where are you?” 

“Right here, my love,” he softly called, causing you to zone in on his figure with a relieved smile that he wasn’t gone like the rest of them, missing the way his voice was filled with sorrow. 

“Thank God.” Placing a palm on your knee to stand up, you whimpered at the ache in your muscles, and the pain of all the cuts and bruises you received, especially where a deep slash was made on your bicep. 

Before you could trudge over to Loki, Steve spoke up, now standing with a bewildered expression. 

“Y/N, you see Loki?” 

The bizarre question felt like someone swung a metal bat to your gut as you halted your movements, peering at the captain who searched in the spot where the man you loved was. 

“Do you not see him?” you asked, glossy orbs bouncing between the two men. 

Steve shook his head and a strangled sob left your lips as you glanced over at a pained Loki. Your knees gave out once again, stating that he was in fact there before your very eyes — that he had to be.  

A pair of cold hands grasped your wrists that were entangled in your hair and you gasped, seeming to be in a ship with Thor, Loki, Thanos and his goons. 

There was a quick white flash and next thing you knew Thanos had his gigantic hand enclosed around Loki’s throat, cutting off his air supply.

Another flash and his lifeless body was lying there, face blue and eyes soulless. His brother gripping his form, mourning the loss he witnessed — and now you did.  

Flash. 

Your wide, traumatic eyes met Loki’s worried ones, not knowing what just occurred.

That had never happened before — seeing someone’s death — seeing it so vividly as if you were there in the flesh.  

“Thanos, he kil- he killed you,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut, letting the tears spill. Your hand was against his chest where his beating heart would be pumping for you, but it was hollow — like the way yours felt. 

He was a ghost. 

He was dead. 

“How did you-? Did you see what happened?” 

You nodded your head, breaking down even further, unable to steady your breathing.  

Loki pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your middle as you wept. “Love, I’m so sorry you had to see that.” He cradled your head as you angrily balled the fabric of his clothing in your fists, grieving at the loss of who you believed to be your soulmate.

“Although I’m not physically here, I’m still here with you, dear,” he assured, drawing away to hold your battered face within his delicate hands, making you look in his eyes.  

“It’s not the same,” you murmured, voice broken along with your heart. “You’re not actually here — not with me. You’re gone and I’m the only one that can see you.”

He was aware of how you felt about that. That you couldn’t live your life talking to the dead or you’d go crazy. You wanted to surround yourself with life — with the living, not the dead. 

And now he was the dead. 

“But that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up. I’m going to get you back, Loki. I need you.” 

He couldn’t help, but smile. He also couldn’t help the thought of you letting it consume your life, to become so obsessed in getting him back that you didn’t have a life of your own. 

Stuck and unable to move on, to grieve properly. 

But that was an argument for later. 

“I love you, Loki,” you exclaimed, holding back a sob as he kissed your forehead before pressing a chaste one on your lips. His lips felt so cold and you would give anything to experience the softness and warmth of them again. 

“And I love you. Summon me whenever you’d like, love. I’ll accept it.” 

He was gone when you opened your eyes. 

Steve’s heart ached even though he couldn’t see or hear Loki, your side of the conversation was enough. Thor and Nat finally stepped up after watching from afar, not wanting to interrupt, and the latter sat down next to you, enveloping you in her arms. 

Nothing could prepare you for today. 

Losing the battle. 

Losing your friends. 

Losing your family. 

Losing your soulmate.

All at the hand of one person. 

Thanos.  

“We’ll get everyone back. We’ll get him back,” the Black Widow reassured while you glared into the distance, clutching onto her arm as water pooled from your eyes. 

The captain was already peering at you with remorse when you connected your orbs to his. As you wandered them over to the God of Thunder who felt responsible, you uttered something that caught his attention. 

“Whatever it takes.” 

taglist:  @gruffle1​ @mysterious-398​ @impala-1979​ @sourwolf-sterek32​ @imnotrevealingmyname​ @therantygeek​ @alwaysasadaesthetic​ @tallyovie​

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

and here’s part two! I also kinda was wanting to start possibly taking requests for these fics? I’m not sure if this is something people are interested in? or how to go about it? let me know what you guys think! 

PART ONE

I’m Just a Shot Away From You pt.2

           “Are you sure we’re clear?”

           Jason couldn’t stop the loud grunt exhaled from his lips as Halley asked him the same question for what felt like the tenth time since they left the manor. They had just arrived at the parking lot of Amusement Mile, Jason parking the motorcycle he took from Bruce’s garage and grabbing Halley’s hand before leading them towards the entrance. He had made sure the cost was clear, waiting until he knew Bruce and Dick would be far off into the city, starting their nightly patrol with Alfred locked away in the Batcave on monitor duty.

           “Will you relax?” He said, slightly laughing at her flustered appearance. She’d been really stressing about sneaking out as soon as they started getting ready. Jason knew they’d get in trouble if they got caught, but he shrugged; if they got caught then they got caught. “You’re not going to have a good time if you keep being more paranoid than Batman.”

           “Ugh, fine, you’re right, you’re right.”  Halley repeated, sounding more firm the second time she said the phrase. As they walked up to the ticket booth, Jason quickly paying and grabbing their wristbands to enter the park, she shook off her nerves. The smell of fried dough and other carnival foods hitting her nostrils, causing her to hum. Looking up at Jason she smiled, feeling a lot more relaxed than she did seconds ago, “So where to first?”

           Jason looked around and through the mob of people. They could go off and play some games, seeing a few not that crowded. Or they could also hit the rides first before the lines got too long. Or even grab some food, the smell that caught Halley’s attention know catching his. He tugged her off to the side towards the food venders, deciding that that sounded the best right now.

           Between the pair of them they got two pieces of fried dough, Halley finishing hers quickly and attempting to steal bites from Jason’s while he wasn’t looking. They also grabbed some cotton candy and a bag of popcorn, knowing that they went overboard slightly right off the bat but didn’t care. It wasn’t everyday they could get away with eating like this and they let their eyes do the thinking over their heads.

           As they munched on their snacks they walked through the park, once their stash starting to deplenish deciding to stop and play some games. Halley nearly choked on the popcorn she was eating, falling into a fit of laughs as Jason failed at the strongman game, the puck only getting barley half way up the track. He felt a dig at his pride, handing the man running the game another five dollars to get three more chances. The second time he got a little over the halfway mark, but that had been the furthest he got. Before he could waste any more money on the game, Halley walked forward, leaning up and placing a kiss on his cheek and dragging him off.

           After a few easier games, Jason stopped them in front of a shooting game. He’d always loved the game and was excited when they finally found it. He paid the man, grabbing the fake haunting rifle from the counter, lifting it up and taking aim. He took his first shot as the worker hit the button, making the duck’s on the wall in front of them start to move. It had looked easy enough, but when the ducks started moving faster he found his eyes darting to find a good target. He fired when he thought he had a shot.

           “Tck,” Halley made a clicking sound with her tongue when he missed.

           Jason side glanced her, noting how she looked like she wanted to say something but was biting her lip. He shrugged it off, taking aim again, still having two more turns. He quickly wiggled his shoulders, raising the rifle up again to aim. For a fake gun, it had a decent recoil he wasn’t ready for. Closing one eye to get a better look he pointing the gun slightly downwards he put his finger on the trigger, ready to pull back when Halley made that sound again.  

           “Yes?” Jason looked at her, not annoyed but with slumped shoulders.

           “You hold it down like that and the butt of the gun is gonna come back up and smack against your chin.” Halley said seriously, throwing Jason off. Her eyebrows furrowed together and her posture somewhat mimicked Bruce when he was watching Jason do something wrong in training.

           She quickly realized this and softened her stance. She let her hands slip into her sweatshirt pockets, somewhat stuttering as she corrected herself, “I mean, it won’t hurt. It’s not a real gun but- uh, er, never mind. Forget I said anything, take your shot.” She back tracked, waving her hand in front of her face, motioning him to continue.

           Jason quirked his head sideways at her, amused and totally forgetting that she was the master’s marksman out of the pair of them. Going back to take his shot, he took the same position he did before only to falter as he heard Halley’s feet shift on the pavement. Side glancing her again, he saw her biting her lip even harder. This time he just chuckled, lowering the rifle and ignoring the clearly impatient worker.

           “What am I doing wrong now?” He asked, not offended but amused.

           “Nothing-, its fine.” She shook her head, not wanting to draw any more attention to herself as the worker stared at the two teens, not understanding why she was acting the way she was. It was just a game after all, it was meant to be fun; it didn’t need to be perfect.

           She grunted when she saw Jason give her the look telling her he wasn’t buying it. Huffing, she placed the left over popcorn bag on the counter, moving to stand besides Jason. She raised his arms, moving the butt of the gun to rest properly against his shoulder. Her eyes trailed from where his path of sight was to the moving ducks, adjusting the barrel so he had a clear shot; only if he wasn’t so eager and impatience and trigger happy, he might actually hit one this time, she thought.

           Once she was pleased she stepped away, blushing. “Sorry, I have- uh, a thing against bad posture. Dad drilled it-,” She paused, realizing that she was oversharing, not only to Jason but to the random stranger watching them. “Continue.” She nearly squeaked out.

           Jason frowned, grasping now why she had been fussing. He didn’t even think about her past when he walked over to the game. He often forgot about it to be honest. She never really talked about Slade or her past anymore. She’d turned somewhat normal you could say and Jason now felt bad about making her bring it up. He decided to finish his turn quickly, doing better than last time, managing to hit one of the ducks down.

           He placed the gun on the counter when he was finished sheepishly. He looked up at Halley intending on asking her if she wanted to head to another booth but saw her eying the gun. At first he got nervous, unable to read her expression as she stared down at it. He instantly thought that maybe he triggered some sort of PTSD episode and felt himself panicking. But he quickly calmed himself, noting how she didn’t look to be in distress. She looked at the rifle longingly, as if she wanted to try.

           “You wanna turn?” He offered lamely, unsure if that was really what she wanted.

           “No, no it’s okay.” She clearly lied, waving him off again.

           He rolled his eyes at her, uncertain as to why she was being so hesitant. She was completely fine with telling him she wanted to try every other game so he had no idea why she was being like this now.  Pulling out the right amount of bills he paid the worker for another turn, handing off the rifle to her without a word. Stepping back, he gave her space to take her turn.

           She was hesitant at first, not sure that she was comfortable holding the weapon again. The last time she held a gun she was on the edge and willing to kill her father. She swore to herself secretly she’d never use a gun again or in fact never kill again. She was still haunted by her past even though she was in fact doing a lot better than she had been. The nightmares hadn’t come in a while and she hadn’t felt like she was walking on eggshells when it came to feeling guilty about her previous life.

           But this wasn’t a real gun, it was a toy, and she could feel the shiny plastic instead of cold metal as she felt herself robotically raise the rifle up. She took a deep breath, closing one eye and aiming as the rig moved back to life. Exhaling, she pulled the trigger.

           “Holy shit,” Jason gapped along with the worker as she fired all three shots one after the other, as rapidly as the toy allowed, hitting the harder to get targets.

           She let the gun lower, smiling. Even though it was just cheap plastic balls shooting out, she couldn’t help but feel the rush she used to love when firing an actual gun. She laughed out, reaching into her own pocket and pulling out more money. She slammed it on the counter, making the awestruck boy behind it scampering to grab it and restart the machine.

           Within the next couple of hours the pair had their hands full of prices after hitting stall after stall that involved any type of shooting game. Once Jason realized how satisfied she look after nailing each target, game after game, both laughing hysterically as the carnival workers grew more and more frustrated with each price they snagged,  he pressed them further into the park. Time flew by, Halley now juggling a giant teddy bear plushy she won herself at the throwing darts game and the smaller plush that Jason wished she hadn’t picked out when he won in ring toss. It had been a cutesy looking version of him as Robin and his cheeks were so red when she exclaimed how adorable it was and that he had to win it for her, or else, she had said.

           Once their hands were full enough with treats and prices, Jason led her over to the Ferris wheel, claiming his feet hurt from walking. It wasn’t a complete lie, he’d also just wanted to spend a couple of moments alone with her away from the clutter of people littering the park. Jason wouldn’t consider himself a romantic, but he was constantly finding himself wanting to do things he normally wouldn’t do for anyone else for Halley.

           He felt himself smirk when they waited in line, Halley noticing a little blonde girl staring up at the teddy bear she held in her arms. Halley gave the little girl a smile before leaning down and handing it off to the girl, giving up the plush. The mother thanked Halley, insisting that she hadn’t had to do that but Halley insisted that it was fine, smiling back at the little girl who hugged the bear tightly.     When they were next, Halley waved goodbye to the little girl who had started babbling to them while they waited in line.

           Jason hadn’t said anything about the little exchange, but felt himself smiling at the girl now sitting next to him. She leaned back into the seat, looking out into the city’s skyline, taking in how peaceful it looked from where they were. Jason followed her gaze, he too loving how their city looked from this view. He scooched closer to her, ignoring how rickety the passenger car was when he moved. Placing his arm around her shoulders, he let out a sigh when she pushed herself into his side, leaning her head onto his shoulder.

           “This is nice,” she said softly as he started playing with a loose strand of her hair. She hugged her little Robin plush to her chest, afraid she’d drop it otherwise. “Thanks for making me come out, Jay.”

           “Jay?” his eyebrows raised at her, having never heard her call him that before.

           “Sorry, it just came out, I-,”

           “Its fine,” he laughed, pulling her in tighter. “I like it.” He smiled down at her, giving her a soft kiss on the top of her head.

           Part of him wanted to smack himself for being so soft but the other part of him was stronger and he found himself growing to not care about being ‘soft’. He was thanking himself as well for making her come out, haven’t felt this carefree and relaxed in while. There was no stressing over being caught, no stressing over school and no stressing over protecting the city. It was just them and he wished he could freeze this moment for as long as he could. Just for tonight he didn’t mind not playing the hero and for once just being a kid.

[m00nslippers]

Jason Todd in Event Leviathan #3 -- He really is that badass (Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

So now that you’ve presumably read parts 1 and 2 where I go over basically every fight Jason has ever had that is useful to gauge his fighting abilities, it’s time to go over his most recent feat in Event Leviathan #3 where he single-handedly defeats The Detectives and walks away unscathed.

When this issue came out, a lot of Jason fans were very happy, as it finally acknowledged the skills that Red Hood has consistently been shown to have from his very first appearances, but which had recently been downplayed or outright denied in recent runs like Batman Eternal and Batman and Robin Eternal. But perhaps because of those portrayals, there were also many doubters, who disagreed with this showcase of skill by Jason and did not believe it was consistent with his character. In parts 1 and 2, I think I pretty well explain Jason’s abilities, strengths and feats, which should put this fight into perspective, but I’m going to specifically go into it even more here, blow by blow, combatant by combatant.

Let me preface this by saying that...this isn’t the best drawn fight ever. The panels sometimes actively make it difficult to tell what’s happening and the fight doesn’t feel organic or even interesting most of the time. This fight could definitely have been drawn better, written better, but that doesn’t discount the fact that what it portrays Jason doing is consistent with his skills and abilities that he’s shown in the past.

Jason Todd vs ‘The Detectives’

If you don’t know Jason, it’s easy to look at my boy here standing against a line-up that includes Green Arrow, Plastic Man, Manhunter, The Question, Batman and Robin (and Lois Lane, I guess) and think he’s got no chance to get out of the situation unscathed, but here’s the thing:

This shit is Jason’s specialty.

Jason is known for taking on large groups of vigilantes, using his opponents against each other, dropping the weakest link and making his escape against the likes of even Batman. He’s done this in such fights as: Red Hood vs Batman vs Captain Nazi, Hyena and Count Vertigo, and Batman (Jason Todd) vs. Nightwing, Batman (Damian Wayne), Black Canary and Huntress and even more recently in Red Hood and Starfire vs Lady Shiva, Manbats and Bronze Tiger and Red Hood and Artemis of Bana-Migdall vs Orphan, Azrael, Batwing and Clayface until he was distracted by needing to help Bizarro.

Fighting multiple enemies, especially heroes, is when Jason is at his best. He can take advantage of the non-lethal tactics employed by them to avoid injury, he can play on their compassion by taking out other targets that will distract them. He’s shown this time and again, he’s amazing at it.

Furthermore, Jason isn’t proud, he doesn’t have to beat his opponent into the ground and humiliate them before he calls it a day. He is fine with incapacitating or distracting a hero just long enough to get away or complete his business. Jason can win without having to utterly defeat his enemies, he just has to accomplish his goal and deny them from capturing him, whereas most of his opponents generally need to incapacitate and capture him to secure victory--which is significantly more difficult to do than simply get away. Jason’s win-condition is much more easily accomplished than his opponents’.

This being said it really shouldn’t be any wonder that Jason was able to defeat this group of ‘detectives’ when most of the group’s members would struggle against and likely lose to Jason 1 vs 1. You would think their odds would go up against Jason with more numbers, but in practice they go down because with more opponents Jason just has more options for distraction and escape. But don’t take my word for it, let’s examine the fight.

A Blow By Blow Account

The opening shot of the fight establishes the combatants: Red Hood vs Robin, Batman, Manhunter, Plastic Man and Green Arrow.

At this point, Jason is actively trying to escape by jumping off a building, at which point Robin, Batman, Manhunter and Plastic Man follow, while Green Arrow provides distance support.

Jason makes two shots, one is aimed at and hits Manhunter’s staff, the other is aimed at and hits Lois’s phone to destroy her documentation of him, grazing Batman on the way. These relatively small targets establish that Jason could shoot any of these heroes he wants in the face and just kill them--he just chooses not to. The shot at Manhunter’s staff seems to be to test what it’s made of, how durable it is and hopefully break it if it’s not very, though it doesn’t. Shooting Lois’s camera is likely to get rid of any evidence the group my use to try to further accuse him of being Leviathan. After Jason takes these shots, Green Arrow shoots an arrow to plug the barrel of Jason’s right pistol.

Plastic Man then reaches Jason and stops to quip before actually wrapping him up. This gives Jason enough time to pull his arm back and shoot the gun with the arrow lodged in it at Plastic Man, causing him to release Jason. The next to reach him is Damian, who attempts to fist-fight Jason in midair only for Batman to pull Damian away by the cape to separate them and handle Jason himself. Considering Jason’s vast history of shooting Damian and nearly killing him, this is probably a good call on B’s part, even if it seems unlikely to me that Jason would do that at this point.

All three smash through a glass ceiling and fall into a conveniently placed pool that is apparently deep enough to keep them all from dying on impact but shallow enough that they can stand up to fight. They trade blows and Jason wraps Bruce and Damian in Batman’s cape, which seals their movements long enough for Jason to get away.

At this point the scene skips a bit to Manhunter pursuing Jason, presumably after escaping the bats and jumping out of that building too, though it’s a bit unclear. This part is especially difficult to tell what’s happening to be honest. My interpretation is that Jason grabs onto a fire escape as he jumps to slow his fall, while Manhunter jabs at him with her staff as she falls. But she is falling at a faster rate since Jason is holding onto the pole and she misses. He grabs her on her way down and jumps off the fire escape and falls onto her, using her to break his fall into a garbage container.

Jason rolls off her, but Manhunter still isn’t down. She tries to hit Jason with her staff, but he ducks under it, sits up and gives her a punch that finally knocks her out, then leaves the garbage container carrying her staff. He is then met by Lois Lane who questions him about his possible connection to Leviathan.

While Jason is talking to Lois Lane, Green Arrow sneaks around up above. He shoots an arrow that is deflected by the staff Jason took from Manhunter. The deflected arrow opens a net on Batman and Robin who had just arrived on the scene. Jason then escapes before the two can extricate themselves from the net. Green Arrow and Lois do not pursue him.

But do everyone’s actions make sense?

To be frank, I think there are problems with this fight, but not necessarily with the outcome in general or Jason in particular. I am not super familiar with some of these heroes, so feel free to correct me if I make a wrong point, but I’m reasonably confident in my assessment. Let’s examine what happens and whether it makes sense.

Everyone jumps off the building after Red Hood.

It’s tempting to say this is stupid but actually I think this works. Jason is a master of escape and hiding. He has proven that time and again in Under the Red Hood, in Battle for the Cowl and Batman and Robin, he can slip away instantly and easily as soon as he leaves a vigilante’s sight. Basically, if Jason does not want to be found, he will not be found, not even by Batman. As soon as Jason slips away from a fight, he is in the wind, therefore he must be kept within sight or the detectives risk losing him. This necessitates the detectives follow him off the building. Batman and Robin are familiar with grappling and gliding, so they are fine, Manhunter can possibly fly with her staff (I’m unsure of this) and is highly durable, Plastic Man is mostly invulnerable to fall damage and Green Arrow doesn’t jump off but is also pretty familiar with grappling, so it checks out.

It also follows that since they jumped off in that way it makes fighting as a group very difficult since everyone is falling or flying differently because of shape, drag etc. so approaching one at a time or in groups makes sense so as not to knock into each other midair. This effectively means Jason is really only going up against one person at a time while the others are in close proximity, which just makes things even easier for Jason.

Green Arrow plugs Red Hood’s gun with an arrow.

It’s established in Green Arrow (2001) Issues #70-72 that Jason is not only familiar with this move, but it is basically useless against him. He understand trajectories of projectiles, he’s fast, knows tactics, shooting or moving a gun is faster than drawing and shooting an arrow. By all rights, Oliver shouldn’t have been able to even accomplish this. Jason outmatches Green Arrow at range, this is proven. But since it did happen, we have to assume it was part of Jason’s plan. I’m not entirely sure what usually is supposed to happen to guns that are plugged by Oliver’s arrows but shot anyway. I would imagine it damages the gun? Clearly this doesn’t happen to Jason’s weapons, so they must be modified in some way, which isn’t out of the question given Jason’s association with Roy. So if Jason shouldn’t have fallen for this trick, and Jason’s guns are not sealed by the trick as they should be, then probably Jason allowed the arrow to plug his barrel in the first place to be used against Plastic Man, I guess?

Personally if I was writing this fight, I would not have allowed Oliver’s arrows to plug the barrels at all because I think Jason’s guns not being affected by it stretches suspension of disbelief, but by no means should Green Arrow’s actions have hampered Jason in any way. Jason is capable of the strategy shown in this scene, and he’s also capable of avoiding the arrows if he wants, so really Oliver is a superfluous opponent in this fight all around. Nothing he is capable of should really slow Jason down at all, as shown in their past fight.

Red Hood incapacitates Plastic Man.

I’ll admit, this one stretches the bounds of what Jason, or any human character in the verse, seems capable of. Jason Todd is a top tier martial artist and strategist, but Plastic Man is a meta with some insane abilities. No matter how great Red Hood is, without special preparations he is unlikely to be able to stand up against Plastic Man, much less defeat him. Luckily in this situation Jason doesn't have to defeat him, just make him release Jason and slow him down long enough to get away, which is quite within his abilities--especially since one of Plastic Man’s few weaknesses is that he can be stunned by bullets and projectiles, and is particularly vulnerable to them in his elastic state when he cannot increase his density to shrug them off.

This is exactly what happens. Plastic Man swoops in to wrap Jason up with his arms, Jason shoots Green Arrow’s arrow and a bullet into Plastic Man’s chest, which stuns him and makes him let go. Simple. Generally Plastic Man seems to be quite fast with stretching, so perhaps he could have sealed Jason’s movements before this happened if he’d wanted to, but Plastic Man clearly underestimates Jason. He calls him a coward, thinks he’s running scared and not likely to retaliate, much less do so quickly, and Plas may not be used to dealing with shooters who are quite as fast and skilled as Jason anyway because there just aren’t many, so him stopping to sling quips at Jason isn’t outside his character. I wouldn't bet Jason could do this all the time, but given this particular situation, he absolutely was capable of what he did and I don’t think it should necessarily have gone differently.

Red Hood escapes Batman and Robin.

Jason escapes Batman and Robin all the time, so I feel like I shouldn't have to explain this but apparently some people don’t realize that Bruce has literally never captured Jason. Ever. Jason has been in Arkham and Blackgate before, once in Red Robin and once in Batman and Robin but he wasn’t caught by Bruce. In fact Bruce wasn’t even around at the time, and it wasn’t when Jason was physically healthy, he’d always been heavily injured by other opponents before he gave up the fight. At times he’s heavily injured from a confrontation and still manages to get away. So the idea that Bruce could have just nabbed Jason without an issue is laughable. Jason can go toe to toe with Bruce, he can fight him equally in most cases. You’d think adding Robin to his side might give Bruce an edge, but actually it makes things more difficult.

Jason is consistently shown to brush off Damian, in Battle for the Cowl and Batman and Robin and Teen Titans. Damian is not a challenge for Jason in any way, in fact he’s nearly killed him multiple times with little effort and shooting Damian is something Jason has done in the past to provide a distraction for Jason to get away. It’s no wonder throughout the confrontation in this comic that Bruce is trying to keep Damian from Jason, because he is perfectly aware that Jason could kill him at any point. Damian is just a liability in a fight with Jason. Bruce being distracted by trying to keep Damian from taking on Jason by himself is directly responsible for Jason being able to get the drop on him and wrap Bruce up in his cape--and Bruce and water actually are shown to be a bad mix in various places. Jason himself has had to rescue Bruce from the water before as Robin, in Red Hood and the Outlaws and possibly in Batman: The Cult as well. Bruce’s costume seems to be a drag in water, so Jason has even more of an advantage in this scene. Him getting away as he does, is perfectly reasonable.

Red Hood gets the better of Manhunter.

Again, Jason is basically just fighting Kate Spencer, Manhunter, here one on one. Is Jason capable of defeating her? I believe the answer to that is yes, especially if she isn’t trying to kill him. She’s a character who actually kills though, so it’s kind of strange that she would fight with Red Hood anyway since their philosophies in crime fighting are similar to begin with--but in this situation where she thinks he’s Leviathan, then okay fine.

Jason has never fought Spencer before, but given his feats he is most likely a more capable martial artist than Manhunter. She does not seem to have much training that I could find in my research, whereas Jason was trained by Batman, the League of Assassins including Shiva and Bronze Tiger, and the All-Caste. She relies on the abilities of the Darkstar Exo-mantle that she wears to fight, which grants her some extra strength and durability, and she may have some genetic meta abilities which include increased durability on top of that. Some of her most skilled martial artist opponents include Cheshire and Merlyn, both of whom Jason has fought and defeated--Merlyn Jason absolutely curb stomps in Batman, Inc.

I’ve seen some sources that say her staff lets her fly, but I can’t find if that’s true or not. If that’s the case, then she perhaps should have done better in the aerial combat, given she'd have increased maneuverability, but without it Jason had the high ground in the situation by being stationary while she was falling. He had more control of their placement and was able to stop her from catching herself and instead sent her into the ground with a devastating blow. Her durability however was shown off when she was able to get up, but given she was already stunned and had heavy damage from the fall, him being able to knock her out is believable to me. Manhunter can apparently shock anyone who takes her staff, but given she was unconscious, obviously she didn’t activate that ability once he picked the staff up.

Personally I think these two probably should have had a much more interesting fight. The one we are given is lackluster and difficult to follow in my opinion and doesn’t really show off either character’s abilities. But honestly I think the outcome would be the same. Given Manhunter’s feats, Jason has the advantage in martial ability and strategy. Manhunter is strong, but Jason is used to fighting people with super strength and meta powers, he won’t be phased by her suit and if he was really in trouble, he carries melee weapons such as his sword and crowbar that could easily deal enough damage to significantly hurt her through her suit and powers. He could shoot her at any point or use explosives. Again, he doesn’t even need to defeat her, all he has to do is get away, and given the difference in skill, I would argue he would do so easily.

Red Hood deflects Green Arrow’s net-arrow at Batman and Robin.

Given that Jason has deflected bullets with a shovel in Red Hood and the Outlaws #23, Jason could totally deflect an arrow, no question. Since this is comic books physics where anything goes, then it deflecting at Batman and Robin who can’t really dodge midair is fine. Oliver was sneaking around, they didn’t necessarily have any reason to think he was even going to fire an arrow they’d have to worry about dodging, so it’s perfectly reasonable they’d get hit by it too.

The arrow backfiring on Bruce and Damian might even have been deliberate on the part of Oliver. We are going to have to see how Event Leviathan turns out, but there is evidence to suggest that Oliver Queen is working for Leviathan. He was approached by Leviathan and asked to join him and was not captured but rather ‘let go’, possibly because he is choosing to act as a mole. Oliver may have wanted Jason to get away, either for lingering grief over his son Roy, who is/was Jason best friend, or to keep the detectives busy trying to capture him instead of interfering with and investigating the real Leviathan. Either way, Jason could totally have done this, Batman and Robin weren’t in a position to avoid it.

Conclusion: Jason is written correctly in this fight.

Basically Jason getting away from the detectives was something he was perfectly capable of doing in the way he did. He performed no feats he was not shown to do before, he was doing something he is consistently shown as especially good at doing, and he did not even defeat all of his opponents, he merely escaped which is a much less difficult feat. At best, his opponents were shown to be more easily outsmarted then they should have been, but it’s just as likely to be that they were underestimating him and not bringing their full capabilities to the table, or they were thrown off by his skill in midair combat, or were emotionally compromised in the face of the person they believed to be Leviathan and not strategizing or thinking clearly in their eagerness to take him in. There is no reason to say this fight was out of character or that Jason was overpowered in it. I think the fight could have been written and drawn better to show off his opponents abilities, but the fight we got did not misrepresent Jason Todd in any way.

[undiscovered-horror-icon]

SlipKnot the Beginning

[All of this info was copied form the archive of this blog on Skyrock.com circa 2009-2010: User - maggot777 on SkyRock . com]

[I’m just sharing it and take no credit]

Des Moines is the capital of Iowa, the twenty-ninth of the fifty states of the USA. The city contains about 200,000 inhabitants for a little less than 200,000 km² and 500,000 reside in the suburbs. There is no Persian diversity in Des Moines, to speak in numbers 90% of people are white. The city is not known as a "dynamic" city, it is rather total boredom there! If we had to summarize what there is in Des Moines we would put: offices (especially insurance companies), factories, churches, a few shops and buildings ... ah I forgot the city hosts also the World Pork Expo. We understand why some say it's "the asshole of the United States"! "It's not just a big urban center, it's not a village either, it's just ... the area. There is absolutely nothing to do. The main activity for young people is 'is to find something to do. In Des Moines, everything is closed at 6 p.m. When you're not old enough, you can't go to a club; when you're old, you go. and you realize that it really sucks. And then it's a very conservative place, where people are not very inclined to encourage artists, whoever they are. " (James Root in Guitar Part, July 2001) "Des Moines is like a cemetery with buildings growing on it. It's a small place, with a majority of old people. It's the second highest concentration of old people in the country. Imagine what it is like. to be 15 years old in this puritanical and totalitarian environment. There is nothing else to do but to have rabies! " (Corey Taylor in Hit Parader, May 2000) However, it was during a concert in Des Moines that one of rock's greatest anecdotal moment happened. On that day of January 20, 1982, Ozzy Osbourne was playing in the city and tore off the head of the live bat! Indeed a spectator had thrown the animal, then unconscious, on the stage to provoke the singer who, thinking that it was one of his plastic bats, bit it deeply! Several rabies vaccines were injected into him. It was this event that traumatized young Joey Jordison, aged less than 7, for life. In high school he joined the Avanga group as a guitarist. But considering the terrible level of the drummer he had to place himself behind the drums. But quickly he is annoyed by the other members of the group, preferring to smoke weed and get drunk at various student parties. He then left the group and created Modifious. He recruits his neighbor Tim on vocals and Jay, Avanga's guitarist who has since become one of Joey's best friends. The trio that lacked a bass player found one in Ryan who had responded to the ad about the band. Modifious then makes Trash Metal, a style that fascinates Joey. Unfortunately some time after the formation of the group, Jay is killed one evening, in a car accident, after falling asleep at the wheel. Despite the drama, Modifious hires a new guitarist named Bruce. But the Bruce in question abandoned the group some time later and joined Atomic Opera. He is replaced by a certain Craig Jones, a friend of Ryan's. In 1992, Tim left the group, replaced by Josh Brainard on guitar and vocals. It is this formation which, in 1993, will record the first two demo cassettes of Modifious: Visceral and Mud Fuschia. By dint of playing intensively in Des Moines and its surroundings, the group began to have a good reputation. He even manages to get the first part of the group Type O Negative! Which will be their hour of glory. In 1994, the two demos are combined in a CD: Sprawl. Then the Trash Metal went out of fashion giving way to Death and Black. The group then changes style for a more radical music but that displeases Ryan who leaves the group. Following the departure of Ryan and the disaffection of the public Modifious split up in 1995. But Joey has already planned everything: he has two groups in parallel. He is the guitarist of Paul Gray, when he arrived in Des Moines in 1989, played in VeXX where he was bassist alongside guitarist-singer Josh Brainard and drummer Anders Colsefini. In 1991, VeXX changed its name (but not its line-up) and became Inveigh Catarsis until 1993. From this date the guitarist-singer Josh Brainard left the group to join Modifious. The group therefore split up, but Paul and Anders, who have become very friends, form a new group. They then formed Body Pit, a Death Metal combo composed of guitarist Mick Thompson, second guitarist DonnieSteele and Danny Spain on drums. Body Pit, starting to make itself known, even managed to compete with Modifious and Atomic Opera in the Des Moines Metal scene. Beside that, Paul finds his drummer friend Joey Jordison in the group Anal Of Blast that But let's take a step back. We are in 1992 and Paul is part of the Painface group. He plays alongside his friend Anders Colsefini on vocals, Patrick M. Neuwirth on guitar and drummer Shawn Crahan. The quartet plays dark and aggressive music and, rehearsing in Paul Gray's cellar, they manage to compose five pieces: "Slipknot", "Gently", "Idiot", "What's Wrong" and "Wise Up". They record his songs with the means at hand. These pieces gathered under the title of Basement Sessions, are in fact part of a rehearsal of the group. In 1993, Shawn Crahan joined another group: Heads on the Wall. This event will temporarily stop Painface's career. During its three years of existence, from 1993 to 1995, Heads on the Wall will perform four times in the first part of Modifious. The guitarist is a certain Kun Nong with whom he decides to set up another project called Meld. The group therefore brings together Shawn Crahan on drums, Kun Nong on guitar, Paul Gray on bass, Anders Colsefini as singer and Donnie Steele on guitar. Even though the band members start to compose a few songs, Shawn can't seem to get the band off the ground. But in 1995, while he was tinkering with Paul Gray in his garage, Shawn told him that he wanted to create THE band. Anders Colsefini as singer and Donnie Steele on guitar. Even though the band members start to compose a few songs, Shawn can't seem to get the band off the ground. But in 1995, while he was tinkering with Paul Gray in his garage, Shawn told him that he wanted to create THE band. Anders Colsefini as singer and Donnie Steele on guitar. Even though the band members start to compose a few songs, Shawn can't seem to get the band off the ground. But in 1995, while he was tinkering with Paul Gray in his garage, Shawn told him that he wanted to create THE band. Shawn and Paul recruit Anders on vocals, Donnie on guitar, and Kun on guitar to create The Pale Ones. The combo will repeat and compose, in the basement of Anders 'parents' house, as if their life depended on it. To perfect their technique, they go so far as to film their rehearsals on video! One day Shawn's mom looked at one of the tapes and said, "Anders, you look like a wolf ready to attack. Shawn you look like a gorilla. And the band in general makes me feel like I'm attending the party. what would overexcited cavemen give before going to slaughter a mammoth! " From that moment on, Shawn will be called Kong by his comrades as a nickname and in tribute to King Kong. But about two months after the formation of the group Kun Nong decides to leave the group and turns to more punk projects. Anders would later say: "Kun Nong is a phenomenal and exceptional guitarist, but certainly not a Metal guitarist." Meanwhile Paul tries to convince his friend Joey to join the group on one of his nightly visits to his workplace. Joey works at Sinclair's gas station. Paul suggests that she go see a rehearsal. He will miss two because of his job, but he will eventually come to Anders 'parents' basement to see the band play. It is low to the ceiling, narrow and covered with bits of carpet to absorb sound and avoid neighborhood problems. But unfortunately, the carpet from a pet store is impregnated with the smell of puppy urine that does not control their bladder! Despite the drawbacks, the little drummer was impressed by the three pieces performed: “Slipknot”, “Gently and“ Fur. ”Joey then said to himself that he absolutely must join this training. This is what he will do officially on September 15, 1995. The group, now composed of a drummer AND a percussionist, takes more power. Shawn then leaves his place of drummer to Joey and tinkers with a percussion kit thanks to his talents as a welder. During Joey's long working nights at Sincair's, Paul and Shawn visit him. They then talk about the future of the group. Shawn then declares that there should be a second percussionist to increase the aggressiveness of the combo. Anders then agrees to sing and do percussion. In the visual, like Joey, Shawn is a big fan of Kiss, it is also the first concert he saw during the Creatures Of The Night tour. Moreover one fine day, Shawn arrives at a masked rehearsal of a clown mask. A few day later, Joey did the same and arrived with a Kabuki mask, which is in traditional Japanese theater, on his face. He also has the good idea to add red and black paints to it for a more frightening aspect. Which is also in agreement with his two-tone hair of the same color. But the idea of ​​the masks at first was just a joke. Joey will say later: "We had trouble playing a song, we were so laughing!". To replace Kun Nong the group decides to recruit guitarist Josh Brainard to add a melodic touch to the sextet. The group now containing six musicians, composes in a very short time six new songs: "Killers Are Quiet", "Do Nothing / Bitchslap", "Confessions", "Some Feel", "Part of Me" and "Tattered And Torn" . After briefly changing their group name to Pyg System the sextet then adopts the name Slipknot ("flowing neud"). Joey is in charge of the group's logo. He first creates a beautiful tribal "S" then draws the logo of the typographical group SlipKnoT. The idea of ​​putting a capital "K" came from the fact that Joey, in these days, was a mega-fan of KoЯn. A few months later, Anders got the tribal "S" tattooed by a certain Greg "Cuddles" Welts who soon became the band's official tattoo artist. It must also be said that Greg, since 1995, is the drummer of Have Nots, a group of Hardcore Punk directed by David "DaVo" Wilkins, owner of the tattoo and piercing shop Axiom where Greg works, and in which Paul and Joey officiate. as ... guitarists! Des Moines being quite small, people quickly learn of the existence of the group without it being done in concert yet. In November 1995, the group decided to give a small concert in a local club named Crowbar (which would later be renamed The Love Shack) but under the name Meld, to keep the mystery on SlipKnoT (an idea of ​​Josh). This intimate concert was done under a greenish lighting, without a mask, but with make-up inspired by the group Kiss and fancy accessories, such as pipes crossing the various piercings of Paul's face and Anders' wolf skin. The group being convinced that their compositions were of quality, he decides to contact a professional recording studio to put the compositions on CD. They contacted THE Des Moines studio called SR Studio. It is directed by a certain Mike Lawyer who has produced artists such as Todd Rundgren, Tinny Tim or Michael Bolton. At the end of 1995, Anders and Paul meet the sound engineer of the studio: Sean McMahon. They manage to convince Sean to come see them rehearse. He then made the trip to the cellar of Anders' parents to see the sextet repeated. At the end of rehearsal, Sean remains speechless as he is so impressed by their music, he does not understand their approach or their lyrics. He then agrees to produce their first recording. Work then begins at SR Studio, where the band goes there as soon as possible to rehearse, play and record as much as possible for the album whose title they have already chosen: Mate. Feed. Kill. Repeat. To feel at home and make themselves comfortable, they decide to redecorate the studio in their own way: porn posters, particular lights, toys and objects testifying to the strange atmosphere that reigns there. The bizarre atmosphere moves to the parking lot where corpses drawn in chalk appear ... The tracks are recorded live with the three drummers at the same time. Shawn puts so much heart into the work that the (poor) wall next to his percussion is filled with holes made by his sticks and fists. For one track, Joey plays the drums completely naked! Throughout this recording period, Joey continues to work at Sinclair's gas station. He left rehearsals around 10 pm, picked up a CD player and a portable TV, and began his night shift. An hour or two later, Shawn usually joins him to talk about the future of the group until five in the morning. These "small working meetings" used to scare potential customers who went to seek their essence, But the finalization of the album, arrived at the mixing stage, may be longer than expected. Indeed, in February 1996, Donnie, the guitarist of the group, decided to leave the group because "the musical and spiritual orientation" did not suit him because he would in fact have had a mystical revelation and would therefore have seen God! The other members of the group, being tolerant, accepted his departure amicably. Joey then proposes to replace Donnie by Craig Jones, the last guitarist to date of Modifious. Craig then arrives in the middle of mixing the album. The atmosphere within the group is tense: the mix is ​​most chaotic! Each of the six band members give a different opinion of how one song should sound than another. Having a habit of remedying it with violence to sort out the various problems, Joey, Paul, Anders, Shawn and Josh often come to blows. In addition, in the end, the group is very disappointed with the mastering of the album and insists that Sean remake it himself. During the mixing, SlipKnoT discovers that in addition to being an excellent guitarist, Craig is a computer buff and handles samples wonderfully. However, before releasing a record, the sextet must prove itself on stage. It was finally on April 4, 1996 that SlipKnoT gave its first real concert in a Rock club in Des Moines called Safari. The rumor of the group having swelled, it is about 200 people who come to attend the concert, which is about the maximum of people that the club can contain. Taken by Joey in his own car, SlipKnoT is already dressed exceptionally. Shawn wears his Clown mask and Joey wears his kabuki mask; Paul has his piercings attached to each other again, Anders is covered in tribal paint, Josh is masked with an executioner's hood, and Craig wears a stocking on his face. While the group is piling up on the small stage, Joey starts repeating the same phrase, louder and louder and more and more mean: "I need a little Christmas in my drink!". Then the group starts with its eponymous hymn: "Slipknot". The group will then make its small effect although sharing the poster with another group endowed with a more important notoriety named Stone Sour and carried by their singer: a certain Corey Taylor. The Corey in question, being there during the band's performance, soon became a big fan of the band. The following month, SlipKnoT will be featured seven times as Safari's headliner. During their second concert at Safari; Paul chose to cover his face with a pig mask "because it was cheap", which earned him the nickname Porky. The machine being launched, at each concert the members disguised themselves in the most extravagant ways by associating the great guignolesque with the unhealthy. Indeed, at one performance, Shawn showed up wearing a Barney costume, a fat half-man, half-dinosaur figure appearing in an educational series for small children as the main hero. He would add later: "It was the hardest thing I have done in my whole life, but I managed to make Barney have it to be on crack!" The others will appear in turn dressed in the costume of a nun, a shepherdess, Santa Claus, in a worker's jumpsuit stained with paint or in a ball gown! The concerts are introduced by a sample, directed by Craig, of a mad laugh and a naive melody of an ice cream truck while Shawn uses a power saw to spark sparks above the impressed audience. Moreover, the idea of ​​samples to accentuate the creepy and unhealthy character went around the heads of all members. Thus, Craig gave up his position as second guitarist to concentrate on electronics. Paul then had the idea to call his friend Mick Thompson with whom he had already played in the group Body Pit with Anders. But after Mick's arrival on guitar, the group being now seven, Anders 'parents' cellar became too small and Craig was forced to put his equipment in the laundry room! But it would have taken a lot more to discourage SlipKnoT ... the idea of ​​samples to accentuate the creepy and unhealthy character circled all of the members. Thus, Craig gave up his position as second guitarist to concentrate on electronics. Paul then had the idea to call his friend Mick Thompson with whom he had already played in the group Body Pit with Anders. But after Mick's arrival on guitar, the group being now seven, Anders 'parents' cellar became too small and Craig was forced to put his equipment in the laundry room! But it would have taken a lot more to discourage SlipKnoT ... the idea of ​​samples to accentuate the creepy and unhealthy character circled all of the members. Thus, Craig gave up his position as second guitarist to concentrate on electronics. Paul then had the idea to call his friend Mick Thompson with whom he had already played in the group Body Pit with Anders. But after Mick's arrival on guitar, the group being now seven, Anders 'parents' cellar became too small and Craig was forced to put his equipment in the laundry room! But it would have taken a lot more to discourage SlipKnoT ... call his buddy Mick Thompson with whom he had already played in the group Body Pit with Anders. But after Mick's arrival on guitar, the group being now seven, Anders 'parents' cellar became too small and Craig was forced to put his equipment in the laundry room! But it would have taken a lot more to discourage SlipKnoT ... call his buddy Mick Thompson with whom he had already played in the group Body Pit with Anders. But after Mick's arrival on guitar, the group being now seven, Anders 'parents' cellar became too small and Craig was forced to put his equipment in the laundry room! But it would have taken a lot more to discourage SlipKnoT ... It was finally on October 31, 1996 that the group gave birth to its first record: Mate. Feed. Kill. Repeat. The album, printed in 1000 copies, will have cost a total of 15,000 dollars, between recording, mixing, mastering and pressing. A large part of the sum was paid by Shawn, which indebted him heavily. To celebrate the release of the CD, SlipKnoT organized a big party bringing together no less than 400 people obviously all masked! This Halloween party will mark, according to the group, a turning point in the history of Safari. It is indeed from this event that the Metal public began to frequent the club regularly. The picture of the album cover, with its glaucous atmosphere, in fact shows Joey masked and crouched in a metal cage bristling with spikes and including the mechanism of a large circular saw. This instrument of torture was obviously built by Mr. Crahan, like a work of art which he delicately titled Patiently Awaiting Jigsaw Flesh ("Flesh patiently waiting for the jigsaw"). The title of the album refers to the most basic cycle of life: to mate ("Mate"), to feed ("Feed"), to kill ("Kill") and to start again ("Repeat") this infinite cycle. . These nine tracks already carry the basics of today's SlipKnoT. In the notes of the libretto, the group dedicates the album to a certain Joey. He is not' This is of course not drummer Joey Jordison but Joey Plumley, Franck Plumley's brother being a close friend of the band. This Joey accidentally died while handling a gun while the band was recording the album. On the internal photo of the CD, we also see two people close to the group: Greg Welts and DaVo. Finally the booklet includes the name of Corn Wallace. It's actually the name Joey and Anders coined after the drummer drew a childish monster with huge claws and wacky hair. They then began to use this name to sign, one these drawings and the other these texts. while the band was recording the album. On the internal photo of the CD, we also see two people close to the band: Greg Welts and DaVo. Finally the booklet includes the name of Corn Wallace. This is actually the name Joey and Anders coined after the drummer drew a childish monster with huge claws and wacky hair. They then began to use this name to sign, one these drawings and the other these texts. while the band was recording the album. On the internal photo of the CD, we also see two people close to the group: Greg Welts and DaVo. Finally the booklet includes the name of Corn Wallace. It's actually the name Joey and Anders coined after the drummer drew a childish monster with huge claws and wacky hair. They then began to use this name to sign, one these drawings and the other these texts. Most copies of Mate. Feed. Kill. Repeat. are sent to fanzines and radio stations that can promote them. But it was on a local radio station in Iowa, KKDM 107.5, that a certain Sophia Jones received the CD and, although not an outstanding Metal specialist, particularly enjoyed the album. She then begins to make a rave review of the album, which then allows SlipKnoT to participate in the Battle of Bands, a competition organized every Wednesday by KKDM at the Safari, and which opposes groups of Des Moines to make themselves better known or at best get noticed by a label. In his first competition, SlipKnoT faces Stone Sour and wins which allows Corey Taylor to think he would really like to sing in this band! During his subsequent participations, SlipKnoT then begins to become a very busy occupation for each of the members of the group, including Joey and Paul who also have to perform within the Have Nots. Especially since Joey, who does not drink, does not support very well the alcoholism of his comrades including Paul! It is besides after a particularly catastrophic performance in October 1996 that Joey threatens to tackle the group to concentrate only on SlipKnoT. It is therefore from this moment that the members of the group will agree not to drink before a concert. Meanwhile, SlipKnoT is starting to gain momentum but no label wants them! It was then that the group asked Sophia Jones to become their manager. She hesitates but accepts because she feels a lot of talent in them. She even declared after a few months: "I see SlipKnoT doing Ozzfest, selling a million albums, making the cover of Rolling Stones and starting her own label."

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Anguish - recognition au

Characters: Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd Summary: It all happened so fast. It was an enemy, a family member, and a chance. It was the collapse of his whole world. A/N: The end! Like three years after the last update I finally finish this crazy thing. I knew how it was going to end after probably the third part, but just couldn’t figure out how to bridge it, so sorry if this seems a little ‘quick’ so to speak. Damian just never got over his older brother, even through the turmoil. I still don’t say if Bruce is dead or not, oops my b. Funny - the first part of this series is only 500 words. This is nearing 3k. Talk about growth haha. (and shameless self plug. Recently started a Ko-Fi - so if you like this or anything I’ve ever created, please consider it! :) 

Other Recognition AU stories

~~

It all happened so fast.

Well, relatively, anyway.

In reality, it was months. Months of Dick dragging them from abandoned building to abandoned building. Hiding in the shadows, from Owls and Bats alike. Keeping Damian under vague threat of harm to have Tim under his command, too.

Dick showed no one mercy, and a trail of bodies were left in their wake. The media eventually picked up on it, but never got further than a few clever nicknames. That seemed to amuse Dick to no end.

And Tim hated him. Tim…wanted to hate him. He was killing. He was hurting innocent people. He was doing everything they were against, everything they fought when they were heroes.

But.

A few times he used the violence to protect them. Like when a drunk man tried to grab Damian in a convenience store one afternoon. Dick had yanked his hand off of Damian’s person, cut off his thumb, then stabbed him in the jugular.

Or when a prostitute appeared out of an alleyway and shoved a gun into Tim’s ribs and demanded all of his valuables. As gracefully as only Dick Grayson could, he pulled Tim to safety and took his place, swiftly slicing his knife across the femoral artery in her thigh and kicking her back into the alley she’d appeared from. Then he’d cheerfully taken Damian and Tim’s hands, and they continued their journey across the street.

And it was just enough. Just protective and caring and in-character enough that it made Tim hope. Made him believe that maybe their Dick Grayson was still in there, somewhere, and they could find him.

But time and again, the hope would be shattered, when Dick would nonchalantly wrap his fingers around Damian’s neck. When he’d grin at Tim after those kills, with a gleam in his eye.

It was exhausting, this rollercoaster of hope and despair. Of worrying about himself, and Damian. Surviving, and trying not to love his oldest brother as much as he always has.

And it was months of this. Almost a year. Being trained by the Talon when possible, and shacking up in any structure with four walls when Dick allowed them to stop. Ignoring the murders and the smell of death outside the windows of their temporary shelters.

They’d catch glimpses of the Court of Owls, chasing after them themselves. Some of Dick’s kills were his fellow Talons, and Tim couldn’t quite say he was sorry for their loss.

“We’ll take them all down.” Dick kept saying, every so often. “Dwindle their numbers here on the streets, then go back and take down the ones that remain.”

They’d see the members of the Bats, too, every so often. And Dick always had a knife at the ready when they appeared. Ready to kill or be killed. Or rather – kill, or ready to throw Damian or Tim into the line of fire.

But then Tim and Damian would beg. Leave them alone. If they don’t see us, there’s no reason to engage. Like the rest of their misery, Dick seemed to find enjoyment in their pleads. Would drop the subject after whatever Bat they’d seen disappeared back into the city.

But suddenly, after months, after almost a goddamn year, it wasn’t a flyby. They didn’t just see their family from far away.

Suddenly, by the harbor, they were standing face to face with the Red Hood.

It was Damian who had noticed first. They’d been walking along the boardwalk, just meandering to kill time, maybe looking for somewhere to eat. Damian, walking between them, had turned to watch a bird fly overhead, then suddenly gasped.

The sound alerted Tim and Dick, and they both looked at him and followed his gaze. Tim’s heart dropped at the sight of Jason walking quickly behind them, having clearly recognized them first.

“No…” Damian whispered as Jason stopped a few feet away, leaving space. Dick shoved him into Tim’s arms, pulling a knife out in the same movement.

“Dick? Is that you, man?” Jason asked slowly, holding his hands up in front of him in peace. He wasn’t wearing a mask, or his helmet, but the rest of his uniform screamed his moniker. “I can’t believe I finally…”

“The Red Hood, yes?” Dick asked slowly. “Ally to the Batman.”

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.” Jason murmured, eyes darting over the younger two. Tim could see the fury building behind his eyes at how thin they both were, and the bruises clearly visible. “You two okay?”

“We’re alive.” Tim countered. “So if you count that as okay, then yeah.”

Jason nodded slowly, eyes going back to Dick. “…Give me the kids.”

“No.”

“Dick, please. I know you don’t want to do this to them.” Jason tried. Tim almost laughed at the idea. Appealing to Dick’s emotions – as if he really had any left. “Just…let me take them home. Then I’ll come back to you and we can talk, okay?”

“No.” Dick repeated. “They aren’t yours anymore.”

Jason huffed, and took a step forward. Dick shifted only to grab another knife out of his stash, and hold the blade to Damian’s throat.

“Take another step and I’ll end him.” Dick warned. Jason froze like a deer in headlights, eyes going wide. His gaze darted to Tim, who nodded.

“He’s serious.” Tim returned. “Why do you think we haven’t tried to get away before?”

Damian said nothing. Just scowled, and balled his hands into fists.

“What the fuck.” Jason breathed, reaching for the gun at his side. “What the actual fu-”

Without warning, a spattering of knives fell in a straight line between them. Tim and Damian jumped, and Jason pulled the gun from its holster and pointed up. Dick merely sighed.

“About time you found us, William.” He sneered.

“You’re better at hiding than we thought.” William hummed. “And still with your little pets, I see.”

“They’re none of your concern.” Dick spat.

“No, that’s why I wish to kill them and get it over with.” William sighed. “So they’re finally out of the way, and we can move on to more important things.”

“If anyone is killing them, it will be my decision and by my hand.” Dick reminded harshly. And Tim didn’t know if it was an involuntary movement or not, but the blade still held to Damian’s throat cut into his skin, just slightly, and blood blossomed underneath it.

“Hey, how about,” Jason shouted, drawing the attention back to him. “No one’s killing anyone? Least of all two fucking kids?”

“Would you like to take their place?” William called as he jumped down onto the boardwalk. Tim involuntarily pulled Damian back and for once, Dick allowed it without thought.

“How about you, instead?” Jason asked, shooting immediately. William dodged to the side, and Dick ducked. Damian spun and shoved Tim to the ground, and Tim rolled to practically laid on top of the younger.

“Jason!” Tim shouted over the noise. “Stop!”

But as he glanced back, he instantly saw Jason’s tactic. He wasn’t shooting to kill, he was shooting as a distraction. After every bullet, he took a step forward, forcing both Dick and William to either hide or back up themselves.

Getting them away from Tim and Damian.

“Just stay down!” Jason called back, switching out magazines as the gun emptied. Tim nodded, ducking his head back down onto Damian’s.

“…We’re getting out, kid.” He whispered. “This is our opening. We’re going home.”

In retrospect, the fact that Damian didn’t say anything should have been concerning. Tim should have noted it, should have at least looked at the kid in his silence. But he didn’t, and just took it as Damian not bothering to try under the sound of gunfire.

Because if he looked, he would have seen Damian watching Dick in his retreat.

Jason’s second magazine ran out just as he came up next to them. But this time, there was no surprise in the attack, and in the seconds-long pause, Dick took his chance, rushing forward, knives at the ready.

He threw a few, but missed. So when he was close enough, he began throwing punches instead. Some Jason was able to counter, some not. Their battle moved away from Tim and Damian once more, and when Tim was able to look, he saw Jason on his back, Dick standing over him with knives in each hand.

There was that rollercoaster of hope again.

“No, no, no…” Tim scrambled, trying to get to his feet. But by the time he got on foot settled on the ground, William Cobb was appearing from his hiding spot, and already looming over the Talon and Red Hood.

“Jason!” Tim screamed, already seeing the scenario play out. Dick would stab him first. Then William. Then, if he was still alive after that, they’d just keep stabbing him, until nothing was left. Then they’d slash his throat, just because.

But…no.

Because when William reached out, it was Dick he stabbed, right in where his throat and collarbone met.

Dick shrieked when he did, the sound echoing as William pulled the blade along his shoulder.

“No one betrays the Court.” William hissed, yanking the blade out. Dick looked practically feral as he faced him. “Not even you, Grandson. Your game was fun while it lasted, but now it’s time to end it.”

“No one betrays the Court?” Dick repeated, turning to face the other Talon. Jason silently tried to shimmy away, but Dick only spared him a glance, before swinging a blade into lower thigh, lodging it there. “The Court does not own me.”

“A fact they have become aware of.” William said. “Therefore, Richard Grayson, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die. And it fills me with glee to be the one to take the contract.”

“Go ahead and try.” Dick hissed, taking one of his own knives and stabbing it into William’s neck. William jerked away before Dick could remove it, but he couldn’t dodge the punch that came after, nor the swift kick.

But he did catch the lunge that Dick tried next, and had his dagger in Dick’s side before anyone could blink.

Tim wasn’t focusing on their fight, though. He was focusing on their chance to get out. On their only chance, the only one they’ve had this whole fucking time.

On their brother who, honestly, he’s missed.

So as soon as Dick and William were a few feet away from Jason, he stood and ran over to him.

“Can you stand?” Tim breathed. Jason shrugged. “Okay, I’ll…I’ll help you.”

He glanced over to the fight between Talons. Both were bleeding now, but neither were giving up. Ripping blades out of themselves to attack the other with, keeping their punches and kicks, no matter how much their injuries may have been affecting them.

“…Should I help him?” Jason asked. “Is he…him?”

“No, to the second question.” Tim murmured. “And…I…I don’t know to the first.”

“…How many times has he threatened Damian?” Jason asked. “Or you?”

“You don’t want to know.” Tim shook his head. “But…he did protect us a few times, too.”

“Good enough for now, I guess.” Jason grunted, shifting to his side, pulling out his second gun. He held up it up, aimed for a moment, then shot, hitting William directly in the center of his throat.

It didn’t kill him, but it made him stagger, and drop his knife. Gave Dick the opening he needed.

He dug his blade into the hole Jason’s bullet created and sliced in a circle.

Sawed and sawed until William’s head detached from his body, and he’d successfully beheaded his grandfather.

“Fuck.” Jason breathed, as Dick turned, staring down at the head in his hands. But when Dick looked up, he wasn’t looking at any of them, but out into the harbor.

And without a word, he threw it into the waters.

But from the short, yet intense, battle, he was exhausted, and injured. And the effort of throwing William Cobb’s head seemed too much, as he collapsed to his knees, falling onto his hands.

This was it.

“Let’s go.” Tim whispered. “Jay…this is our chance.”

“Don’t want to…I don’t know, bring him along? Arrest him or…” Jason offered. And Tim knew Jason still didn’t grasp the severity of this. The severity of how not Dick this Dick Grayson was. How Tim had already realized they’d never have their Dick back, ever again.

“Leave him. We can…worry about him some other day.” Tim pushed. “Now come on, I’ll help you up.”

Jason nodded, and gasped in pain as Tim helped him to his feet, got him staggering the way he’d came. As he began to move a little better, Tim turned.

“Damian, let’s go.”

But Damian, who was still lying on the boardwalk where Tim had left him, didn’t move.

“Damian!” Tim hissed. He moved towards him, just a few steps. “It’s now or never, kid. We gotta move.”

Damian still didn’t move, and wouldn’t look at Tim. Still just staring at Dick.

“Damian. Come on.”

Now, the boy looked over, and to Tim’s surprise, there were tears pouring down his face.

“I can’t.” Damian choked. “I can’t leave him.”

“W-what?”

Damian looked back to Dick. To the Talon. To what Tim was finally accepting as their former brother.

“I can’t leave Grayson.”

“He’s…Damian, he’s…” Tim’s heart was shattering. “He’s not Dick anymore.”

“He…I can…Maybe…” Damian shifted to his knees. Looked back at Tim. “You go. Get Todd home. Rest. You deserve it.”

“I’m not leaving you here, are you crazy?!” Tim asked. He took another step forward, but this time, Dick looked up at him. His strength was already returning, and they were running out of time. “No. No way. Damian, let’s go. Now.”

But Damian was shaking his head as he stood. “I’m sorry.” He wailed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Damian, no!” Tim screamed, lunging for the boy. But Damian was faster, and ducked his hand, running to Dick’s side.

Dick didn’t emote as Damian kneeled next to him, putting a hand over a bleeding wound on his side. Didn’t even smile as Damian wrapped Dick’s arm around his neck, and hoisted him up.

He gave Tim one last look. His eyes were dark, and hollow. “I hope we see each other again one day.” He whispered. “Forgive me.”

Dick’s strength wasn’t back yet. So even as he leaned towards Tim to grab him, Damian steered him away, dragging him back into the shadows.

“Damian, wait!” But as Tim moved after them himself, he felt a hand grab his elbow.

“We won’t give up on him.” Jason promised. “But there’s nothing we can do right now. He gave us a chance, before Dick’s back in his right mind and comes after you. We need to take it.”

Crying, sobbing really, Tim nodded, turned and slowly helped Jason limp to safety.

…It all just happened so fast.

~~

Tim didn’t leave the manor much these days. Too busy drowning in a mixture of depression and PTSD, and spending days at a time in front of computers, looking for any sign of Dick and Damian.

The murders continued, and reports changed to include the murderer’s new tiny shadow. The Bird Boys, some channels called them. Or the Talon Twins. Some wondered if it was the return of the Red Hood and Scarlett from years gone by, or the Anti-Batman, with his Anti-Robin.

Some conspiracy website called them Ghosts, and Tim felt that was most fitting.

The mysterious Talon and his mysterious child never bothered the Bats, though. Never attacked, or colluded to with others. Tim even noticed in his constant research that the murders were now aimed towards the worst criminals of the worst. He was proud of Damian for that. A hero even now, when he really didn’t have to be.

But despite Damian’s final words to him, Tim never saw them either. Only followed their lives in barely-accurate news stories and alerts. But for Damian’s sake, he tried. Rented shady motel rooms and left notes in alleyways about them. Bought bags of groceries and left them in the abandoned buildings they frequented.

One time, he found a note in one, most definitely in Dick’s handwriting, that merely said Thanks. Another time, he found blood in the rented motel room. Later tests said it was Damian’s.

For not the first time in his life, he hated how close Dick and Damian were. Because maybe if they weren’t, maybe if Dick didn’t once love Damian like a son, maybe if Damian didn’t love Dick more than the sun – Damian would be here. Damian would be safe.

(More than once, though, when he found blood where he believed his brothers to be, it was confirmed to be Dick’s. Tim couldn’t help but smile then – Damian was holding his own.)

Regardless, he never saw them again, and he never got over it, what happened. Never returned to Red Robin. Never really returned to Tim Drake.

Maybe he died that day, when Damian stayed with the one who was hurting them so. Or maybe he died day one of this whole ordeal, when Bruce told him to run. Told him to protect Damian and get away.

He had failed so horribly at both of those things.

So maybe, he never really left Dick either, not mentally. Emotionally. Spiritually.

Maybe he was just another ghost too.

Maybe Jason was too. And Cass. And Steph. And Barbara. And Alfred. They all grieved alongside him. Every second of every day.

And maybe, in the end the Court of Owls got exactly what they wanted.

The Wayne family destroyed.

[whetstonefires]

Hey so random ask but, I see a lot of people calling Tim drake sexist, I personally don't think he is but what are your thoughts on that.

Oof. Okay.

Technically I can’t just say he’s not, because as the product of a sexist society he, like any other dude and to a lesser extent any person, has got some passive sexist attitudes baked in there.

It tends to surface in things like, when he went on that first big solo adventure when the Robin comic launched, that started in Paris? And he wound up hunting King Snake with Lady Shiva and this one rogue federal agent, a black man, and he got very decisive. Shiva says something cutting about white men, and she has a point, in that if either of his adult companions of the moment were also white men Tim would probably have been somewhat more conscious of the fact that he was thirteen.

That unconscious prioritization that DC’s sexist narrative tends to favor? That is sexism, and also racism, and it’s valuable to draw attention to it, though not, I feel, to blame it all on Tim because quite often he hasn’t actually done anything, the universe around him has just colluded to make him look good.

(Of course this doesn’t happen much anymore, but back when he was the Main Character it did. Comics is a sexist community in a sexist culture, so of course Tim got some of that muck on him.)

But most of the accusations you see going around are about tearing him down on Steph’s behalf, and that’s...murkier.

Because honestly Tim is less sexist than most of the men in his profession. Significantly less so than Bruce or Dick. I literally cannot imagine Tim talking about a loved one the way Dick used to talk about Kori, or a new acquaintance the way Dick did a lot of the one-episode women from his ‘90s Nightwing solo series. He wasn’t bad to them exactly, he was honestly very normal and probably above average, but the incredible, controlling arrogance and casual sexualization is still hard to get through, sometimes. Almost more so for how much more it comes out when he’s talking behind their backs. And Bruce...well, Bruce and gender is an entire deal I’m not going to try to unpack here.

And I cannot see Tim ever using ‘girl’ as an insult, the way Damian does.

Tim’s interactions with the ladies on Young Justice, for example, tended to be a lot less emphatically gendered than Dick’s interactions with the ladies of the Teen Titans, or even Bruce’s in the Justice League, though there are fewer women there and less casual interaction.

And to a considerable extent this was because the passage of ten years had modernized writing norms, and to a considerable extent this was because his demographic was younger than the Titans and therefore less sexualization was expected of the writers. Young Justice built on some stuff Marvel had been doing with young teams and broke some ground that Marvel has built on even further lately. (Seriously what is with Marvel’s young team books lately they’re incredible.) But there was also that Tim as an individual cares less about gender than most of his family.

(In some ways Jason may care even less, but he also leans really hard into performative masculinity and thought flirting was a reasonable way to interact with older women as a teenager, and he’s been being written by Scott Lobdell for ten years even if I have a hard time thinking of that as canon, so his data is mixed.)

Or take the case of this young freedom fighter (/terrorist) who happens to wear Robin colors, who Tim meets at one point in Europe. Dava. The story creates situations where Tim gets a weird mind-altering stimulant transferred orally to him by Dava, and then from him to Shiva when he’s giving her CPR, and Tim rather notably doesn’t have a single narration box or speech bubble that treats these as ‘kisses’ that he has somehow benefited from obtaining.

Later he crawl-drags Dava’s knocked-out-by-Shiva body out of the middle of the bloodbath Shiva is now staging, because he’s in no state to do anything to stop it, which he hates, and while this is certainly the comic arranging things to put Dava in a damsel status relative to Tim, Tim does not at any point frame it that way.

He is really good about not disrespecting Dava, honestly. It’s an interesting storyline partly for that reason, though it’s not the only time it comes up.

Tim was constantly meeting Troubled Young Women who could kick his ass and whom he respected considerably in most senses, but whom he was able to convince that their particular approach to violence was somehow flawed and needed to be re-thought. Thereby allowing there to be Strong Female Characters but keep the balance of the world in order and not worry the readership, by placing the male lead in a subtle power position even if he had gotten his ass kicked.

It was like. An entire genre. Tied to the way Shiva kept popping in as Incredibly Terrifying Supporting Cast.

This was a major way DC was using female characters in and immediately after the 90s and tbh in some ways it was more progressive than what they tend to do now, even as certain parts of the framing set my teeth on edge.

(Compare ‘Tim on drugs manages to hit Shiva hard enough to take her down because she didn’t expect lethal force from him so he has to do CPR’ to the more recent Red Robin story where we spend a couple of pages with him laying out to her face how she came to town to fulfill a contract on him but he brilliantly out-thought her and she ate the drugged chocolates he sent her so He Wins. Bleh.)

Steph stands out for hanging around instead of being a one-off appearance, and for not really rethinking her life in response to Tim much at all, while also not being a villain.

The crux of the issue is, Tim slid into talking down to Steph on a semi-regular basis, especially when trying to get her to stop vigilante-ing, which he’s getting backlash for some twenty-odd years later, mostly by people blaming him for her narrative deprioritization because it’s more satisfying than blaming DC.

And a major form this takes is declaring him generally sexist.

And the thing is, I’m sure his unconscious view of himself as more competent to make judgment calls because Main Character Demographic did play into the way he approached those conversations! I have never met a dude with any self-confidence whatsoever for whom that wasn’t a factor. Sexism, like racism, is the air we breathe, you have to actively extricate yourself from it and even then it will crop up at odd moments.

Classism played into it, too--especially once he knew she was a C-list villain’s daughter; there was that sense that often crops up in Batman properties that not only does greater access to resources make it safer and less self-destructive for the moneyed class to go vigilante-ing, noblesse oblige means it’s also somehow more just. The old ‘the outsider has a more objective approach’ canard. This was even more subtextual than the gender stuff, but I’m sure it was there.

Intellectual elitism is sort of a subset of both that and gender issues--Tim knows he’s smart, it’s the core of his pride, and Steph is not as smart in the same ways and has not had the same educational opportunites, and there are definitely moments of high-handedness tied to this.

And then there was the territorial aspect; it was official Bat policy to discourage all other Gotham vigilantes, usually in a much more absolute and commanding way than Tim ever tried, not to take them in and train them.

That might have been an option for Bruce if he’d wanted to, but it wasn’t really on the table for Tim unless he wanted to stage an intense campaign to totally disrupt his own life in order to bring this person who introduced herself by hitting him in the face with a brick after he mistook her for a villain into private Bat training and spaces. They’d known each other for a while and been having this argument in various forms most of that time, before they ever dated.

Please also remember that the last time Tim wanted to take a troubled blond under his and Bruce’s wings and show them the ropes and make sure they could do this safely as part of a personal healing process that would help everyone, that person took less than a week after starting to show signs of instability to have a complete psychotic break, beat him into the ground, build a brick wall in the Batcave to keep him out, lock down the computers, and start killing criminals with the knife-hands he added to the Batsuit, while failing to prioritize civilian safety.

This was not that long before Steph’s debut. If I were Tim I would not trust myself to sponsor further new team members either!

All of these things besides the Azrael trauma are directly from Bruce, who is often way more emphatic and more of an ass about them. Robin was mirroring Batman (consider the way he talks to Selina sometimes egad, sometimes it only doesn’t look awful because she’s playing along) and following Bat-policy; it is totally nonsensical to hold Tim accountable for this and not Bruce.

It’s also important to note that Tim wasn’t significantly less condescending to Anarky or the General, who were white guys around his age with roughly his class background whom he was trying to talk out of villainy, and honestly Lonnie’s motives were baller. (The original Anarky was a hacktivist based on a design somebody drew up for the third Robin, but Tim got made instead.) Tim’s entire character design back to his first appearance holds that when he’s trying to talk someone into something he tends to fall into a lecturing approach.

This can be very annoying! The first time he did it to Nightwing he got grabbed and shaken and snarled at. And of course it’s worse when he’s talking down a demographic slope, rather than up one.

I am very aware of how fucking annoying it is when guys do this, even if it is their normal mode of interaction. I have come very near to punching faces over it, when it’s really bad.

Tim doesn’t usually approach that line, but the problem is his writers didn’t seem to know the line was there, so if you’re reading some of his interactions with Steph from the perspective of having that chip on your shoulder already, especially if you’re not immersed in the narrative’s assumption that he is The Main Character, especially now that language norms have shifted slightly so wording that was considered neutral in the 90s is now obnoxious, it can ironically make a deeper impression than the much more blatant and decided sexism going on all around him.

So that’s my take on the situation. Tim has some mild passive gender prejudice which he has never taken enough notice of to seriously compensate for, made more visible by being in a deeply sexist world and by being kind of an annoying person sometimes, and this has been blown wildly out of proportion by people who feel that he and Steph are in competition to be The One Who Was Not An Asshole in that relationship.

This is not a winnable competition. They were both assholes sometimes, and even if you could prove Tim was a terrible boyfriend/person it wouldn’t validate all of Steph’s behavior--she was often forced to behave very badly or stupidly, because back then one of her major narrative functions was as a stick for the writers to hit Tim with.

And the thing is. If you’re going to exculpate Steph of awful behavior because it was ‘just’ the writers being sexist, let alone let Dick off the hook on similar grounds, I think it’s really unfair and messed up to then turn around and hold Tim-the-individual accountable for sexism that mostly wasn’t even situated in him so much as baked into the narrative, though to his benefit.

Like. When sexism (or other -ism) benefits people in real life it can be useful to draw their attention to their systemic advantages if they seem not to get it, but drawing Tim’s attention to his narrative prioritization would be extraordinarily meta (lol somebody write that fic). And in neither situation is it productive or fair (though I do know it is so so tempting) to treat the very existence of someone’s privilege as an offense they have personally committed.

They literally cannot help that. That’s how systemic works.

[huilian]

what messes with Oracle and didn’t survive?

AO3 Characters: Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne

Summary: three little birds, one little bat, and a spoiler.

Dick grimaced. “Well, if the world’s going to end, I want us to be together. There’s at least a hope of safety there.”

It was a sweet thing to say, but it did not negate the fact that there were currently five vigilantes of Gotham trying to prank the two of them. Dick’s platitudes about facing them together is just that. Platitudes. Babs would abandon him in a heart beat if it meant getting out of their pranking ways.

A/N: who is the one that didn't know that this week is dickbabs week? this girl right here.so instead of seven fics, have this one that combines the prompt of day 6 (if the world's going to end, I want us to be together), and day 7 (we've come a long way).  Enjoy! 

***

“Dick!”

Babs has had it with cleaning up someone else’s messes. And she has most definitely had it with cleaning up Dick’s messes.

“What!”

He had the gal to act innocent. As if the evidence of the last mess was not still on Babs’ dining table.

“Control your little brothers!”

Dick came into the dining room with an innocent look in his face. Babs wanted to shout to him, but she also kinda wanted to kiss that stupid innocent face. She knew better than to think he’s truly innocent, though.

“What did they do, now?” Dick chuckled.

Babs did not stoop so low as to answer. She just gestured to her dining table. The sight of it should be answer enough.

“Come on, Babs. They’re just having fun.” Dick shrugged his shoulders. Easy for him to say, it’s not his dining table on the line.

“Glitters, Dick. Glitters,” Babs gritted out. “There’ll be glitters on my chair for months! Not to mention my dining table!”

“How do you know it’s one of my little brothers?” Dick asked.

“Don’t change the subject!”

“Worth a try.” Dick shrugged his shoulders. “But for real, how do you know it’s one of my little brothers? It could be Dinah.”

“Dinah will do a more subtle prank than this. Glitters, Dick. Glitters.”

Dick hummed. It’s infuriating. Why is he like this? Wait a moment…. Dick never acts innocent when he is truly innocent.

“Is this you? Are you pranking me right now?”

“What? No! I knew better than to prank you!”

“Good. Because if it’s you, you can kiss goodbye to the bed.” Dick had a sly look on his face that meant he’s going to say something about not needing the bed to have sex. “And to tech support. For a month.”

That shut him up pretty quickly. Dick could and would mess with Barbara Gordon, but Nightwing did not dare mess with Oracle. She is too valuable. Once upon a time it would have made Babs preen, but now it was just cold hard fact.

“It’s not me, Babs. From the look of the prank, it’s probably Jason.” Dick frowned. “Or Tim. Or maybe Damian.”

“I don’t care which one of your little brothers it is, it’s one of them. That makes this your mess. You clean it up.” Babs maneuvered her wheelchair out of the dining room. “There better be no glitters on my table after you’re done!”

“Babs, come on!”

“I’m going to order some food for breakfast. I expect the table to be clean when the food comes!”

“Oh, come on!” Dick shouted at Babs’ retreating chair. Babs didn’t care. She just kept rolling out.

Babs was going to kill Dick’s little brothers. It’s them. It had to be them. No one else has the guts to go against the all-mighty Oracle.

“Dick! I’m going to kill your brothers!” Babs would do it, too. She would. There was nothing Dick could say to keep her from killing his little brothers.

“You’ll get no objection from me, Babs! They put glue on the glitter! Glue! How the hell can I get it off the table?”

“It’s not just the table!” Babs shrieked. What did she do lately to deserve this? She had done nothing to deserve this. She was even playing nice with all the heroes and sometime-heroes who asked for her tech support.

“What? There’s another one of the glitter bombs?”

“Not one! Three!” Babs stopped, took another look, and said, “Scratch that. It’s four!”

“Four? I only have three little brothers, Babs.” Dick got out of the dining room to look at Babs. There was glitter on his hair, and on his clothes. There was glitter everywhere on him. “Do you think?”

“No,” Babs shook her head. “They wouldn’t dare.” They wouldn’t. Having one pranking them was bad enough, but to go against five of them? All five of them?

“There’s five glitter bombs, Babs. The numbers match.” Dick took a deep breath, and let it out. “It matches.”

“No.” Not Cass, surely not Cass. Steph, Babs could understand, but not Cass. Not to mention, could Damian even understand what a prank is?

“Unfortunately, yes.” Dick winced.

“They will level Gotham to the ground.” Visions of buildings in Gotham being levelled went through Babs’ head. “They’ll level the world to the ground.”

Dick grimaced. “Well, if the world’s going to end, I want us to be together. There’s at least a hope of safety there.”

It was a sweet thing to say, but it did not negate the fact that there were currently five vigilantes of Gotham trying to prank the two of them. Dick’s platitudes about facing them together is just that. Platitudes. Babs would abandon him in a heart beat if it meant getting out of their pranking ways.

“Bruce won’t let them!” It was one last futile hope that Babs had.

“Do you think they give a shit about what Bruce will let them do? Besides, Bruce is not here.”

“Alfred won’t let them!”

“Alfred is not here too, Babs. He’s with Bruce!” Dick said.

Babs let her head roll backwards and stared at the ceiling for a few moments. God, or someone up there, give her strength. “What did we do to deserve this?”

“Um… We proved them that we are capable of handling Gotham?”

“Ugh!” Babs raised her hands. “This is all your fault!”

“Hey! Some of it was your fault! You’ve been handling Gotham for longer than I have, Oracle.” Dick bent down so that he could look at Babs in the eye. It was not appreciated, and Babs made sure to tell him that by pushing him.  

“No, no that,” Babs said. “It’s your fault that there’s so many of them running around!”

“Me? I had nothing to do with that! It’s Bruce’s fault!”

“You’re the one who started it all!”

“Started what? Bruce adopting kids? Steph isn’t even his!”

“But the rest of them is!”

“You’re the one who ‘adopts’ Cass! And Steph! That’s two!”

“What about you? And don’t you dare say that you only have one! Tim won’t even care about Batman and Robin if he didn’t see you back then! Not to mention Duke is only here because of Robin, and who’s the first Robin, huh?”

“Hey, it’s Batman and Robin! It’s Bruce you should be blaming, not me!”

“Oh yeah? And who’s Batman now, Dick? Surprise, surprise, it’s you! You’ve been both Batman and Robin! It’s all your fault!”

“Wow.” A small voice made both Dick and Babs stop arguing and turn around. “I can’t believe you two haven’t even officially dated for a year, but you’re already arguing like an old married couple.”

It was Jason speaking. He seemed to be alone, but Babs would bet her computers that he was not alone. And he had another one of those damned glitter bombs in his hand. Where did they even get that many of them?

“Jay,” Dick began, “don’t.”

“Jason Peter Todd,” Babs said in the coldest voice she can muster, which is very cold indeed, “don’t you dare.”

“Sorry, Babs.” Jason shrugged. “Even if I don’t, there’s five more over there. I might as well draw first blood.”

“I will make your life hell, Jason. I will,” Babs warned.

“Eh, it’s already hell. This, however, is a taste of heaven.” And with that, Jason threw the first glitter bomb.

There was a war cry from the other side of the room, and five more glitter bombs joined Jason’s one. Giggles and laughter can be heard echoing throughout the room. Without even seeing them, Babs knew that it was Tim, Steph, Cass, and Damian. She couldn’t see them, anyway. There were so many glitters, that Babs couldn’t see anything.

Let them laugh, Babs thought, while holding her breath to keep from inhaling the avalanche of glitters. Babs was already devising vengeance.

Through all the giggles, Babs could hear Steph saying, “I cannot believe I just glitter bombed Oracle!”

After the glitters had dissipated somewhat, and Babs could see again, she saw Cass pulling in Steph close with a smile on her face, and it was so rare that she saw Cass smile so unguardedly that she almost wanted to smile too. Almost.

“You better believe it, Stephanie Brown, because you will be the one to clean this mess. And don’t you laugh, Cassandra, you’ll be cleaning them too,” Babs said in her Oracle voice, which has been said to be very different from her Barbara voice, or even, according to Dick, her Bargirl voice. Steph winced. Cass’ smile turned into a panicked expression. Babs liked her Oracle voice.

“I only joined because of peer pressure, Grayson. I do not wish to do this.”

Ah, Damian. It’s good that he can join in on pranks now-very different from the assassin child Babs had seen Dick took under his wings-but did it have to be glitters? And against them? Why can’t he play pranks against Colin? Or basically anybody but Babs.

“I thought I have talked to you about the dangers of peer pressure, Damian. Do we need to redo that conversation?” Dick’s tone suddenly turned mischievous, “And all the conversation after that?”

Damian’s eyes widen. “No, we do not need to redo that conversation, Grayson. We do not.”

Babs made eye contact with Dick, silently asking him what that hidden threat is. Dick did that head movement that always meant, ‘later’. Alright, then. Later. Now Babs can enjoy seeing Dick pester Damian.

“Then you can spend the time I had planned for the encore of that conversation helping to clean up Barbara’s apartment, can’t you?”

“Uhh.. I..”

“Go on, you can get a head start. Start with the dining table.” Dick inclined his head towards the dining room. Barbara can actually laugh seeing Damian’s shaken expression. It’s practically the same expression Dick used to have when Dad caught the two of them together. It had been hilarious then, and it was hilarious now. Especially on Damian’s face, which was normally so serious. He had come so far from that assassin child, hadn’t he?

Tim, never the one to turn away from a chance to insult Damian, laughed. It was not the right move to do. Dick zeroed in on him right away.

“What are you laughing at, Tim? You’ll be cleaning Babs’ apartment too. With Damian. And the girls.”

Damn. Babs knew that Dick can be scary when he wants to, but this was a whole new level. Tim gulped, and bravely tried, “You can’t tell me to do anything, Dick. I’m not Robin anymore.”

Ouch. That was a low blow. Striking there, of all places? Tim was always the one not to pull his punches. Babs flinched for Dick, because he didn’t. Flinched. Just said, “Oh really? Well, it’s up to you, of course, but if you don’t, then you’ll find Bart Allen being one photo richer. And to think of it, Conner Kent and Cassie Sandsmark too.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

The two of them glared at each other for a few moments, and apparently, Dick won, because Tim said, “Fine! Come on, Demon Brat! We better get started.”

Dick smirked. Babs smiled too, because Tim being taken cared of, Babs had only one target left to roast. Jason. Who was in the middle of trying to open the window.

It was nice that Babs had internalized Bruce’s lectures about always being prepared, because she could control everything in her apartment from her wheelchair. Babs pressed the button that shut down the window, and said, “Where do you think you’re going, Jason?”

Jason’s jacket was trapped when Babs shut down the windows. Good. Babs had no wish to chase him down, or more likely, have Dick chase him down. It would only create more chaos.

“Um, out?”

“You know perfectly well that you’re not going out before this apartment is sparkling clean, Jason. I thought Alfred raised you better than that.”

Jason froze where he was. It was a satisfying sight, the fearsome Red Hood frozen to the spot with his jacket trapped in the windows.

“Don’t tell Alfred,” Jason said. “He’ll come to hunt me down.”

“And we can’t have that, can we? It’ll ruin your drug lord reputation to have a British butler come to hunt you down.” Babs smiled. “So, you better go and help Tim and Damian, then.”

Jason glared at Babs. Babs just continue smiling serenely. Jason never won against her when he was Robin, why should he start now? It does not matter that it had been years since he was Robin and Babs was the semi-retired Batgirl. He didn’t win then, and he wouldn’t win now.

True to form, Jason huffed, then started to pry his jacket from the windows. Not to get out, but so that he could go and help the others. “Leave the jacket, Jason,” Babs said. “It’ll keep.”

“Okay, okay, Babs. Jeez.”

“Tim and Damian are already at work on the dining table,” here Babs raised her voice so that Tim and Damian in the dining room could hear, “or I hope so!” They could hear muffled arguments, and _something _falling down. Oh well. There’s nothing there that’s not filled with glitter anyway. “So you’ll start here.”

Jason grumbled, but he did leave his jacket at the windows and went to find the broom. It should bother Babs that Jason knew exactly where to find the broom in Babs’ apartment, but it didn’t. They were a family that showed affection by stalking, after all.

So, Babs turned to the girls, who were trying to make themselves as small as possible. Maybe they thought that Babs would forget them if they just stood still. Unluckily for them, Babs didn’t forget anything.

“Why are you two just standing around? Go on, chop, chop.”

Steph made the best betrayed expression she could make, and Cass… Well, in anybody else but Cass, Babs would have sworn that it was a pout. But it was Cass, and so it was just… a pout that didn’t fully form. Thankfully, Babs just had to glare at them a bit before they joined Jason in getting the brooms and the vacuum cleaner. She would hate to have to bring out the big guns.

Babs could feel arms going around her, and she let it. She even leaned back a bit so that the arms could fully enclose her. “Let’s go clean up, and lock ourselves in the bedroom, shall we? It’s maybe the only place not tainted by glitter, now.” Babs could feel Dick’s laughter in her ear as he said that.

Dick’s suggestion was actually a very good one. Even though they had just woken up, Babs felt like she could sleep again for several more hours. It must be all the exertion of herding the kids. Having Dick hold her while she slept did not hurt either.

“Don’t you go and have sex while we’re still here, you two!” Jason shouted.

There was a sound from the dining room that can only be Tim’s yelp, and then, “What? You two! Damian’s only eleven!”

“I am perfectly aware of the nuances of human reproduction, Drake!”

“No, you’re not! You’ve never seen Bruce had a go with Selina, have you? You know nothing about human reproduction!”

“Oh, are we talking about Bruce’s adventures with Catwoman? ‘Cause if we do, I need therapy from that time they did it like, a few feet next to me.”

“Oh, shut up, Steph! You’re only Robin for what? A few weeks? You can’t even begin to imagine all the therapy I would need! They did it in front of me, like, all the time!”

Dick gave Babs a look that conveyed all the annoyance and affection for the five little delinquents they had in her apartment, and then he lifted her up and carried her to the bathroom. He was laughing all the way there. Babs couldn’t help but to laugh along with him.

Later, in Babs’ bedroom, after all the glitters on their body were gone and the door to the bedroom firmly shut, Dick said, “Wow. Look how far we’ve come, Babs.”

“Huh?” Babs was lying down with her head on Dick’s chest, and it felt very nice. It felt so nice that Babs could barely think of anything else.

“We used to be the one doing the gagging! And now we’re the ones being gagged about!” Dick said, with a very large smile on his face.

“And you’re proud of that?” Babs asked.

“Well, I can list a few things we can be proud about instead, but then you’ll call me sappy.” Dick’s arms sneaked to her, and then he started playing with her hair.

“You are sappy, Dick Grayson,” Babs said, closing her eyes.

“No arguments there, Babs. No arguments there.”

ps. apparently I'm the kind of person who won't write when they have a lot of time to do so, but when they don't have the time, they write. hence, two fics in a short ammount of time i'm in an unpaid internship, but not a single fic during the weeks and weeks of holiday......

[bluboothalassophile]

Getting to Know More

Fun facts about Terry McGinnis:

He was a notorious middle child in a HUGE family: Dick, Jason, Athanasia, Cassandra, Tim, Duke, Damian, Alina, himself, Helena, Thomas, Bruce Jr., and Matt. His extended family included Dick’s wife, and Dick’s kids, Thomas, Mar’i, and Jake; Jason’s adopted daughter Lian Harper; Tim’s wife, Stephanie; and Duke’s wife; Claire Clover. His extended, extended family also had Uncle Luke’s and Aunt Babs’ kids; Carrie and Nell, Bette Kane, Grampa Lucius, and, well, at this point one got the picture; huge ass colony of Bats living in Gotham here.

He shredded it where skateboard, hockey, motocross were concerned, but he had the coordination of a spaz for baseball and surfing.

His mom was awesome on epic proportions. Seriously, he didn’t know how she did it but she redefined super mom.

Another thing to know, he totally did not have a crush on the Princess of Atlantis, he was only going with her to this movie because he happened to like it, and because Mareena was the only chick he knew who didn’t like chick flicks (Mar’i, Helena, Lian, and Max could all go Suck It! He was going to see a damn action flick if it fucking killed him this year!) Mareena just also happened to like action flicks, which was why she was here with him.

Standing there in the theatre line he tried not to stare at Mareena who was hiding her identity under a hoodie she had stolen from his room when she had walk up to the Manor with a movie for them to see. Mareena did not have friends in Atlantis who appreciated the arts of action flicks. Terry didn’t care though, he was no longer being that weirdo who was going to a theatre alone. Also, she was a chick Dana could not get jealous over and drive him insane. He would think college meant that the drama would die off with the age grow up, but apparently not. And he was not getting blue balls because Dana was having imaginary jealous fits over imaginary slights.

“Why can the line not move faster,” Mareena huffed.

“Because the line is moving this pace because people are slow. Besides, we’re ahead of the line for the premiere line,” he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder to show her. Mareena frowned.

“You people are annoying,” Mareena said icily.

“How are we annoying, you wanted to go to this movie, so I’m going with you to see this movie,” he said.

“I would’ve asked someone else, but,” she started.

“There’s no one but Don and Dawn, and we both know there’s no way in hell that Barry and Iris would let them come.”

“I could’ve gone to New Krypton,” Mareena argued.

“Oh yes, because watching their movies is so entertaining,” Terry rolled his eyes.

“You land dwellers have no appreciation for the fine arts of moving with a flow,” Mareena argued.

“Pipe down, and don’t draw attention of the paparazzi,” he snapped when her hood started falling off of her head, which had him pulling it more firmly over the green hair of hers. Only disadvantage of going to the movies with Mareena was the fact her hair glowed in the dark. But other than that, trade offs, made it worth it!

“You do realize they’d be more inclined to notice you and not me, right?”

“I’m wearing a Gotham Knights cap, and I am not royalty, I’m just one of a hundred Wayne kids,” Terry point out.

“I thought you were a Prince,” Mareena said.

“No, I’m a Wayne,” he said. “Not royalty.”

“You are also…” she held up her index fingers by her head and smiled a bit.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t count,” he shrugged. Dick had been Batman, Jason had briefly been to save Dick’s wedding, Cass currently was, Damian was next. It wasn’t anything special anymore, it wasn’t special in the family he belonged in. Though B was still the control freak behind the scenes for them so technically B was still the Bat.

“Why not?”

“Cause B’s the big man in charge.”

“Your dad is in a wheelchair,” Mareena pointed out.

“Partial paralyses is not a disability, it just means his legs have to take a break sometimes and Mom has to push him around, it’s not abnormal to what normally happens with him,” he shrugged.

“You guys have issues,” Mareena stated.

Terry merely shrugged. “Dad’s fine, we’re fine, it’s all fine!” he snorted.

“Last time you said that everything was on fire,” Mareena stated.

“Let me restate we’re fine. But mostly keep your hair away so I don’t have to explain to Dana why the hell I’m seen with another woman.” Terry stated.

“Ah, the nefarious Dana, why are you still dating that woman?” Mareena asked. “She was bratty when you were a teen, she’s worse now.”

“Not all of us get fairy tale romances,” Terry shrugged. “Besides, I like sex, sex is a great relief to the stress of everything.”

“You sound like a cad.”

“You should hear my sisters talk,” he shrugged. Mar’i, Helena, Max, and Lian were way worse than him about the sex talks, girls were all about feelings, and emotions and connections, it was annoying, and they always talked about it and guys! Terry probably knew more about women than the average guy and it was a disturbing amount information his sisters had given him. And just to clarify, he thought of Mar’i, Lian and Max as his sisters because he had known them since he was in diapers! It was hard to think of them as anything remotely close to something other than sisters.

“And you shouldn’t knock down romance,” Mareena stated. “Your family has the most epic love stories according to my father. Other than maybe Diana and Steve’s.”

“You’re nuts!” he sputtered.

“Am not, the story of B and Selina, Dick and Kori, Jason and Raven, Tim and Stephanie, B and Talia,” she stated. “Epic romances.”

“That’s just gross, and disturbing to think about my family’s love lives,” he grimaced.

“You guys are secret sweethearts I bet,” Mareena decided with a cheeky smile.

“We are the Knight! We are the Terror of Nightmares! We are NOT Sweethearts! Even Alina is even an epic of epic badasses,” he argued. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out to see the text was from his mom.

“What’s up?”

“After the movie we need to go get Matt, Carrie, Tommy and Nell from school. Babs and Luke had to go to Africa,” he said.

“Oh.”

“So we’ll get them, get a slice, and then I’ll drop you off, or are you tubing?” he asked.

“Why would I be tubing?”

“Cause it’s up or down with you,” he retorted.

“Can I stay? I haven’t hung around the surface too much, and I do not want to go to the Tower,” she said.

“Yeah. Julia will help us set up a room for you,” Terry said. Julia had come to Gotham recently because Alfred was sick.

“Who is Julia?” Mareena asked.

“Julia is Alfred’s daughter,” he answered.

“Alfred is not B’s father?” she said in bizarre wonderment.

“Uh… yeah, not a secret,” he pointed out. “Alfred is awesome, and he’s totally grandpa, but he’s not blood.” Terry shrugged.

“WHAT!?” Mareena sputtered. Terry jumped a bit as he stared at her bewildered expressioned.

“What!?”

“He’s not blood!?”

“No, I mean, like ninety percent of my family isn’t blood.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “It’s not news.”

“I…” she started. “I always thought you were related,” he said.

“Really?”

“Black hair, blue eyes, ungodly pale.”

“What about Duke or Damian!?” he sputtered.

“Okay, so you don’t all look alike,” she rolled her eyes.

“Exactly, and we are all pretty much adopted. Only Athanasia, Damian, Alina, Helena, Tommy, Junior, Matt and I are actually B’s blood kids.”

“I thought you were just… you know, cause you’re a huge family and dad says B started young, really young, so I just assumed,” she shrugged.

“It’s all public record,” he shrugged. “B hasn’t been shy about it. Dick, Babs, Jason, Cass, Tim, Duke, Steph, technically and kind of, Harper, Cullen, Bette, and Renee.”

“I just thought you were related, and I thought you were also, you know,” she shrugged innocently.

“What else did you think we were!?” He sputtered.

“Vampires,” she said innocently.

“I hate dad for starting that rumor,” Terry muttered sourly.

“That one is funny though!” She persisted. “Hal told me, before I met you guys, that you were all demons.”

“Well, Rae is,” he shrugged.

“I thought your dad was big anti- anything that isn’t human marrying into my family,” Mareena said.

“Luci made valid points which had B accepting the fact marrying into a family as divine and powerful as Rae’s is a… you know, it’s kind of a divine honor,” Terry shrugged. “Besides, I didn’t know they weren’t married until they were officially married.”

“You didn’t know they weren’t married?” Mareena asked.

“They’ve been together since I was in diapers,” Terry shrugged.

“Really?”

“Yes really. I’m pretty sure they were the ones who found me,” Terry said.

“I’m learning more about you than I ever thought possible.”

“All of this is actually public record.”

“Really?” she asked skeptically.

“My biological mother was Mary McGinnis, she was married to Warren McGinnis, they died in a car crash when I was three days old and they were driving home from the hospital. I’m technically property of A.R.G.U.S. so Waller took me in, Jason found me about a year later,” Terry explained.

“That’s weird,” she decided.

“No, what’s weirder is the fact that Matt is my full brother,” Terry stated. “Mary and Warren were dead five years before Matt was even conceived, and he’s my full brother.”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you were B’s blood son,” Mareena said carefully.

“I am. Waller injected a serum into Warren McGinnis’ DNA to scramble his own DNA to match with Bruce’s. Warren was a chimera essentially thanks to Waller’s tinkering,” Terry said. “I’m a ‘clone’ of Bruce’s in a way or I was supposed to be with what Waller set up, and I’m his son, but NO, he did not get involved in the conception of me or my blood brother Matt. He’s the genetic material for us. He’s still Dad though since he’s well, Dad,” Terry shrugged.

“That’s complicated.”

“That’s my family. Also, completely public record,” he shrugged.

“You’re not normal,” she said icily.

“What!? I’m completely normal! I’m going to a movie, and with you no less, in broad daylight, and I’m not turning to ash because of the sun either!” he smiled.

“You’re sounding like a assbutt,” she muttered.

“Asshole,” he corrected. “And you started it.”

“What did you expect from my family?” she asked.

“Lots of energy,” he answered honestly. “Dad always said that you guys were energetic like no tomorrow and wild, also unpredictable, dangerous, and loud, very loud.”

“You expected that!?” she sputtered.

“Did you think I was expecting a mermaid from Little Mermaid, fishtail and all?” he asked her.

“Yes!”

“Nah,” he shrugged.

“You’re an ass,” she informed him.

“I’m aware.”

“Good.”

“Besides, I’m a you know,” he shrugged. “Being unpleasant and assholes in general are required.”

“Oh! The ticket booth! And next time we are dropping your family name to get into the movie.”

“You wanted to be a normal American teen this time instead of being a Princess of you know,” he said.

“I did not want that. You wanted that. Freaking love of invisibility. I swear if you were metas you’d all be like that.”

“Rae cast an invisibility spell once, that was awesome, terrifying and cool.”

“Why!?”

“Oh, the demons were hunting her, I was like seven, and it was a giant hide and seek game,” Terry said.

“That’s not normal.”

“You grew up under the sea,” he pointed out.

“You grew up in Gotham.”

“I don’t like you right now,” she decided.

“You adore me, I’m paying for the movie,” he pointed out.

“True,” she decided.

“Awe, you two are an adorable couple!” the ticket attendant said when they stepped up to buy the tickets for S.O.S. “First date?”

“We’re not a couple,” Terry stated as he paid for the tickets.

“But we are friends!” Mareena declared slinging her arm around his shoulders.

“Barely.”

“You adore me!” she declared.

Terry rolled his eyes as the ticket clerk chuckled but gave them their tickets. “I’ll spring for the snacks, you get the good seats,” he ordered as they had their ticket punched and walked into the crowd.

[ravensroundofrobins]

Since most of y'all Don't seem to Know her.... Let’s DO THIS BRIEF HISTORY OF ROBIN!STEPH BUCKLE TF UP BITCHES

(Note: For the most part, Steph’s time as Robin is included in the War Games TPB, especially because it serves as a catalyst for said event. Highly recommended the read, but mind, like, everything about it) ((also also tumblr only allows 10 pics, so I'm cherry picking my fav panels/most important ones. + offering a bit of meta. take this with a grain of salt and Please read War Games and draw your own conclusions blah blah))

So to start with, a little Context to Steph’s Start as Robin:

Tim’s dad found out about his Robining & made him hang up the cape+mask. As any Concerned and Reasonable parent would. Steph is still operating as Spoiler at the time, despite many attempts by many members of the batfam (but especially Batman) to dissuade her from crime-fighting.

Due to a gross misunderstanding (as these things tend go in comics *sigh*) Steph, who is dating Tim at the time, sees a girl who was interested in him make a move & thinks that Tim is cheating on her. She channels this grief/mourning/anger into making her own homemade Robin costume and convinces Batman to take her under his wing (he sets the conditions that she must follow every order, with a ‘one strike, you’re out’ kind of policy). She undergoes an unspecified training period to get in Proper Shape For Crime Fighting and Batman starts taking her on various patrols and investigations.

During this time, she also teams up with Batgirl (Cassandra Cain) on more than one occasion (one of my fav panels below, just bc its so stylized lmao. its Cute)

During this time, in true Robin Tradition, Steph builds up quite the rapport with Batman, providing a lighter/comedic side and being a general breath of fresh air and foil to the Dark Knight. (just LOOK at this banter & Bargaining for the batmobile!!! a TRUE ROBIN)

There’s a couple cases that I won't get too far into (but one i want to briefly mention involves Zsasz and Steph going almost a bit too far when trying to subdue him. its a very clear parallel to Jason & serves as foreshadowing for how War Games will play out i.e., Steph’s fate) 

Now during this time, there’s an assassin/merc who is killing off teens who were suspected to be Robin (Tim Drake), which Batman catches wind of and the Dynamic Duo moves in to put an End to. (look at this smug lil robin, catching the Bad Guy™ off guard. ADORABLE)

Another thing to note now, is how Eager Robin is to jump onto the case and into the fray. and how carefully she toes the line when following/questioning batman’s orders. this is touched on many times often either with her able to juuuuust reason with the caped crusader enough to Bend his own orders or even to change his mind on occasion.

(a thing i want to note here with this panel and with this particular time in Steph’s career as Robin is that the writer had her referring to Batman as ‘Boss’. whether this was intentional or not, it most closely resembles, to me, Carrie Kelley’s mannerisms as Robin. i.e. another Robin that the writers may have been using as inspo/to parallel. Carrie’s time as Robin is also defined by Batman’s grief from losing Jason, and is given a very similar probationary status that Steph is given during her time as Robin. coincidence? maybe. but i think not.)

While they lose track of the villain initially, Steph’s quick thinking to place trackers on her is what saves the mission. at the Moment at least. Batman makes a decision to bring Robin along when tracking their prey, but orders her to stay behind in the batplane & ‘not touch anything’ unless ordered to do so. which is where we get the Defining Moment:

When Steph, against orders, jumps into the fray. its something to be admired, and very Typical Robin Behavior (bc where would they be if they weren't impulsive and, well, KIDS, amirite?) but unfortunately, her decision costs them the chance of apprehending the villain, and Batman stays true to his word...

and she's Fired (g o d I'm not the biggest fan of damion scott’s art but this look BROKE MY HEART. i can practically HEAR those choked back tears and see that quivering lip like... G O D BRUCE NO. GIVE HER ANOTHER CHANCE. ANYTHING ELSE THAN WHATS GONNA HAPPEN)

here’s where I'm gonna TL;DR War Games for y’all bc.... holy shit its a LOT. and Steph’s involvement really only begins it, and essentially ends it. (literally lmao. she's featured a little throughout but like. its a Crossover Event™ for a reason. everyone gets a little bit of the spotlight, which means a bit of shuffling around ofc) but Anyways

tl;dr - steph takes one of Batman’s contingency plans on her way out of the cave & implements it w/out being aware of a few Key Details. all out War breaks amongst the different gangs of gotham, with Batman & company trying to regain control of the city & maintain order. Black Mask resurfaces, catches and tortures Steph to learn details about the plan and makes his own grab for power (fun fact, for those of you paying attention to the Big Picture: this essentially sets up for his position later on in Under The (Red) Hood when Jason starts wrestling that control away from him) Steph manages to escape, Batman takes her to Dr. Thompkins clinic, and Leslie reveals that her condition is critical. bruce makes it back in time to be by steph’s side for this:

and then she dies ;-;

BUT THIS IS COMICS- so its revealed initially that Leslie withheld treatment to save Steph’s life to Make A Point and try to dissuade Gotham Youth from following Steph’s path. BUT-BUT WAIT THERES MORE BC THIS IS ~*C O M I C S*~ so its ALSO revealed later on that steph DIDNT die. Leslie helped fake her death and blah blah blah, Steph comes back, gets to be spoiler again, then batgirl and the rest as they say is history

anyways. STRAIGHT FROM THE BAT’S MOUTH THANKS. Steph WAS really™ a Robin™ and as much as DC wants to pry that from my gay goblin hands they WONT be able to. and anyways... She Earned It. okay. give this girl the Respect she deserves. 

(now since I'm a Shipping Blog™, ima add some thoughts regarding her parallel to other robins and how Theoretically a relationship with raven might work out)

Again, the biggest parallel that DEFINES War Games and Steph’s time as Robin, is that to Jason Todd. (fun fact/sidenote: they’re both Leos, so like. Another Connection btwn the two lmao) They’re both impulsive and eager to prove themselves, and follow Batman with unwavering faith and loyalty (up to a Certain Breaking Point that is). They’ve got especially cheeky attitude and flair for drama, and hey. Narratively speaking, writers seem to have a penchant for drawing a few connecting lines between them (again, by starting the WG TPB off with Bruce mourning on Jason’s bday & setting a Tone for the overall event. and then again, by having a major character for UtRH be the very same villain that killed our former girl wonder) 

Now with those lines drawn, and with an understanding of how Jason has interacted with Raven in-canon (with mostly cordial interactions and for the most part respectful analysis of each other’s abilities & strengths), & no known connection between Steph & Rae as of yet, we can really only assume a few things:

-like most of the batboys, Raven is very likely to get along with Steph and to respect her abilities given that Steph respects her in turn.

-Steph’s bright, extroverted personality could again work as a good foil/compliment to Raven’s more introverted/muted one.

-theyve got what i like to call the Bad Dad™ connection (with Steph’s being a former Gotham Rogue™, and Raven’s... well.. y'all Know) Steph’s already shown great Morbid Humor regarding this part of her life (shown in her interactions with Cass) and is very willing to bond with others over Sucky Parents

-while stephanie has a canonical Love™ of Waffles, and raven (at least in regards to her Most Popular fanon from the 03 cartoon) has a fanonical love of them as well. Hence, they ARE the Waffle Queens (embrace the ridiculousness, guys. DO IT)

-Since steph is not an Adopted member of Bruce’s family (& again, more often than not they have attempted to dissuade her from vigilantism) and similarly, due to Batmans Dislike of meta-humans/outsiders messing with Affairs in His City, as well as some of his canonical Distrust™ for Raven due to her mysterious background/nature. this could be another minor/potential bonding point between the two

-likely more??? its getting late, and not much else I can think of off the top of my head, but i might add more to this later. 

as a ship StephRae has as much potential as any other, and since there’s not a lot of canon to really go off, fans can really take it.... wherever and i think thats beautiful

[lastsonlost]

What does Christopher Priest see when he looks at Vampirella?

Loneliness.

And in his new Vampirella ongoing launching July 17, the veteran writer will give Vampi the human connection she craves... before ripping it all away.

Illustrated by Ergun Gunduz, Dynamite's new Vampirella relaunch begins with the alien vampire as the last survivor of a plane crash which took away any friend or acquaintance she had. Now she's here on Earth and all alone. And this isn't a fictional world known to have vampires, witches, warlocks, or werewolves - this is the real world, and you know how real people would take to someone like Vampirella?

... but do you, really?

As Priest tells Newsarama in an email interview, Vampirella's supernatural abilities are "a metaphor for a univeral human condition, for being either rejected or idealized (or, in the case of our series, both) because you are different. Anyone who’s ever moved to a new town or a new school or taken a new job should be able to identify with Vampi’s challenges."

Priest, an ordained Baptist minister (as a reminder to readers, prefers to be addressed as 'Priest'), shared his thoughts with Newsarama on how the prospect of writing Vampirella was first received by him, how it fits within his religious life, and how he's using it to examine humanity.

Newsarama: Priest, what makes Vampirella interesting to you?

Christopher Priest: The fangs. Definitely the fangs.

When DC Comics approached me about writing Deathstroke, I’d really never thought much about the character. It wasn’t a book I’d normally read because I probably wasn’t the audience the book was targeted toward. But it presented an interesting challenge: what new things could I find to say with this character and what unexplored areas of the character were there to develop?

When Dynamite Publisher Nick Barrucci said “Vampirella,” I had nearly the identical reaction. I was, of course, familiar with the character but wasn’t a Vampirella fan, wasn’t the audience for that book, which made me an odd choice. You’ll have to ask Nick why he made it.

My immediate reaction was exactly the same: what new thing could I bring to this property? Where is the untapped potential? That, for me, is the interesting part; craft a Vampirella narrative that broadens the audience for the property while (hopefully) not putting off the hardcore Vampi fans.

Nrama: So what was the answer to that? What is the story?

Priest: I read this Bruce Springsteen Rolling Stone interview a couple decades back (yah... decades...) around "Born In The USA," where Springsteen said something remarkable that’s stuck with me all this time, about how each of us needs community. He said something like, “Without community (by which I presume he meant human attachment and interaction) we’d likely go crazy and kill ourselves.”

Over many interpretations Vampirella has developed many versions of a supporting cast, but she is fundamentally alone, one of few of her race living on Earth. Considering the Boss’s statement, I wasn’t eager to create yet another supporting cast and then echo adventures she’s had before. For better or worse, I wanted my at-bat with the character to be unique and in some ways challenging.

So the thought occurred to give Vampirella that community, that human connection... and then have it all ripped away. Our story arc revolves around a plane crash which effectively terminates many connections Vampi has built while forging new ones.

Nrama: You're setting this in the real world. A real fish out of water scenario, but one you're playing at for deeper cultural issues. What's a woman like Vampirella likely to face here on Earth?

Priest: With all due respect for the legion of much better writers who’ve handled the character, as I mentioned, I probably was not the audience for this book. Vampirella was created with a satirical flair and Vampi herself was in on the joke; not quite breaking the fourth wall but offering up a knowing come-hither smile. She’s existed in a reality that routinely and, for me, far too benignly, accepts the supernatural as fact.

Here in the real world, vampires are merely a thing of myth and the reality of hyperfactual supernatural events are subject to the interpretation of the particular tribe one belongs to. It bothers me that, in 2019, DC and Marvel universes are still mostly portrayed in an idealized hyper-reality where the average man on the street simply accepts superheroes as fact and, in fact, refers to them literally as “heroes” or “villains,” which is absurd. There’s no news anchor in the world who would start a broadcast piece with, “Arch-villain Saddam Hussein...” even though that description would be apt.

The world our Vampirella series takes place in doesn’t believe in vampires. Or witches or warlocks or werewolves. This world seeks rational scientific explanation for paranormal phenomena which it greets with enormous skepticism.

Which isn’t to suggest no one will believe Vampirella exists but that that acceptance is not as matter of fact as it seems to be in most of this genre.

In terms of what she’s facing, her number one enemy is loneliness. I am, hopefully, writing a woman first, a story about a woman who loves and wants to be loved but whose circumstances are complicated by the fact she has fangs and drinks blood. The supernatural attributes are a metaphor for a universal human condition, for being either rejected or idealized (or, in the case of our series, both) because you are different. Anyone who’s ever moved to a new town or a new school or taken a new job should be able to identify with Vampi’s challenges.

Anyone who wears their hair a different way, listens to a different kind of music, embraces a different religion, anyone who steps outside of or gets shoved outside of the so-called “mainstream” can identify with our take on Vampirella. I hope it is precisely this universality of theme that helps broaden her audience; the Vampi tent is large enough for everyone.

Nrama: Someone walking around in that Trina Robbins-designed costume is bound to get some headturns. If I know you as much as I think I do, you're going to tackle that head on, right? How are you getting into the subject of the costume?

Priest: Well, yes, we will have a go at it. The basic argument is simple: where do you draw the line between women’s liberation and women’s exploitation, and who gets to draw it? Who gets to define femininity and why should an extraterrestrial have to submit to that definition?

It’s like the world woke up in the last few years and realized we actually have two genders and both of them matter.

So we now have heightened scrutiny of themes and behaviors and that poor bastard Joe Biden gets caught up in the switches. I’ll confess, I’m terrified of women because I’m a Joe Biden. I was taught to pay a lady a compliment and open doors and I want to be friendly and accessible but I’m absolutely terrified of having my good intentions taken in a bizarrely paranoid light.

It is comical to me that I am far too often seen as creepy by women - especially black women - because they have been conditioned by their personal experience and their media consumption to misinterpret a simple "Hello." These days I cannot pay a woman a complement without a legal preamble and assurances that, no, I am not hitting on you and even then I get the skunk eye of suspicion.

Which is a little insulting because this “guilty until proven innocent” defensive posture presumes I am other people or that the bar is set so low for me that I’ll jump into bed with just anybody I happen to meet. It’s like we’ve just gone too far now to the point where women are not just being protected but being alienated to some extent because I have no earthly clue how to deal with them and I’m frankly scared to shake their hand.

So, is Vampirella’s wardrobe choice sexist? I don’t know. Vampirella obviously doesn’t think so. As I see her, she comes from a culture much like Star Trek’s Betazed, where people wear little or nothing at all. If anything, Vampi wonders why we humans choose to smother ourselves in so much fabric and why we’re all so bound by self-loathing.

There are hundreds of women who enjoy cosplaying as Vampirella, and maybe hundreds of thousands offended by the character. How do we reconcile all of that for the 21st century?

The one thing I won’t do is cover her up. I accepted the gig: write Vampirella. If you change the outfit, she’s no longer Vampirella. Frankly, her costume is the only thing about her (well, okay, that and her pansexuality) that makes her at all shocking or controversial.

My goal, and the readers will have to let us know if we’re passing or failing, is to make this a book as much about femininity as about bloodsucking. The storyline is driven by women, mostly populated by women, of all shapes and sizes and ethnicities, and most of them dress as sexy as they dare. The singer/rapper Lizzo is a terrific example of this. Is her blatant sexuality liberating or is she being exploited? How about Beyoncé? Do we put Vampi in a raincoat but cheer Bey on?

See what I mean? I’m screwed either way.

Nrama: So Priest - Vampirella's here on Earth. What would you do if you found yourself, I don't know, sharing a cab with Vampi?

Priest: I’d ask the driver to pull over and let me out. I’m a Christian, so I have these issues with all of that “fornicating in your mind” stuff. I don’t live a perfect life but I try to avoid cluttering up my conscience. Among the things the printed page cannot convey is the amazing, intoxicating glow and, yes, smell of a woman.

All women are beautiful, from 8 to 80, regardless of weight, height, or nationality. I wouldn’t share a cab with a woman as under-dressed as Vampi, which sounds hypocritical because I’m writing her. But I write Deathstroke, too, and wouldn’t share a cab with him, either.

Nrama: On the flip side of this, Vampirella's stranded on Earth. What's going through her mind in all of this?

Priest: How stupid and primitive we are. It’s not arrogance. I believe any visitor from another world would surf the net for a few hours and come away shaking their heads. I watched an episode of Little Miss Atlanta yesterday. Jesus. We’re just idiots. The moms fighting and bickering and cursing - cursing - in front of these little girls, berating the little girls. This sickening child abuse... That's entertainment?

I have Christian friends who will criticize me for writing Vampi but they watch that crap.

Nrama: This comes over a decade after your previous stint with Vampirella - Harris Publishing's Vampirella Revelations with artist Eric Battle. That run had some issues, but you're back here again. What makes is something you want to return to?

Priest: *scratches head* Really? I did a run...? I remember doing a silent issue... and vaguely remember doing something with Eric, a good bud. But that was way back. I really hadn’t considered this a “return.” I just pivoted and stared into Barrucci’s hypnotic vampire eyes and ran dozens of scenarios through my feeble brain, coming to one conclusion: this would be an interesting experiment, a writer’s challenge. Writers love challenges.

Nrama: Big picture, what are your goals with this ongoing?

Priest: To not have the women of America torch my house. This run will be as different a take on Vampi as any that have come before.

Which is not to say “better;” “better” is subjective. I’m sure a great many Vampi fans will hate what we’re up to. Maybe they’ll come along, maybe I’ll get fired. If I wasn’t nervous about it, it wouldn’t be worth doing.

Editor's Note: The above interview was conducted via email eariler this week, and we received all of Mr. Priest's responses along with all our original questions. Newsarama asked Priest if he would respond to follow-up questions Friday by email. He agreed and those questions and answers follow.

Nrama: Priest, our original questions to you were about the Vampirella comic book and our role is to talk about that and not audit your personal life, but your responses appear to be hyper aware of a social climate you seem to lament in terms of relationships between genders and conduct towards one another.

Priest: I lament the social climate in general, on all levels. I lament our lack of civility and lack of empathy, lack of patience and understanding. I hate the way we assassinate one another with our thumbs, all this hostility in social and other media. It's not just gender issues.

Nrama: Yet empathizing with Joe Biden without citing the actual specific behavior he’s under scrutiny for, stating things like "the amazing, intoxicating glow and, yes, smell of a woman" and by offering you’re “often seen as creepy by women,” it seems like intentionally inviting the sort of reaction/assumptions you state you’re “afraid” of and inviting the same scrutiny Biden is under.

Was this was your intent and are you prepared for pushback to your words and questions to be asked?

Priest: Wow, there's a lot to unpack, there. But let's start by saying I seriously doubt anyone reading this is NOT aware of the Biden issue to which I am referring. 

I come neither to defend Biden nor to bury him, so I think you're probably taking my "poor" Joe reference a bit too seriously. I wasn't trying to litigate Biden, only to make a point about how hyper-sensitive and overly politicized our nation is and how this will impact Vampirella in her series.

Assembling disparate quotes to paint me as some kind of deviant makes that point for me. I stand by my statements. "...the amazing, intoxicating glow and, yes, smell of a woman..."

 is something difficult if not impossible to convey in literature (which was my point), but your question was about me sitting in a taxi with a near-naked woman and I answered that honestly. 

And my point was relevant to understanding the challenges and conflicts Vampirella will face in this series.

This is the environment Vampirella finds herself in, people misinterpreting her actions, words, and motives. This is why I mentioned it, to place the work we are doing with Vampirella into context.

Were a person like Vampi walking around in our world (or riding in a taxi with me), she would be misinterpreted, and every word she says would be drilled into looking for the worst possible interpretation of it. I can't help but wonder why anyone anywhere speaks publicly because no words spoken by anyone can withstand this level of ridiculous scrutiny.

Nrama: In another response you state “It’s like the world woke up in the last few years and realized we actually have two genders and both of them matter”. While not assuming your intent one way or another, it seems it to overlook genders outside the male/female paradigm. Can you speak to that?

Priest: Gender: noun

1. either of the two sexes (male and female), especially when considered with reference to social and cultural differences rather than biological ones. The term is also used more broadly to denote a range of identities that do not correspond to established ideas of male and female. "a condition that affects people of both genders"

I wrote an ecumenical commentary in support of gender and and LGBTQ issues, Chris. I invite everyone to read it.

It was a simple interview. I was promoting a comic book and, as a really busy writer, I was typing really fast and speaking honestly while engaging with you. What I won’t do, not even for my own safety, is censor myself or try and anticipate every horrible way someone might choose to misinterpret something I've written or said.

 If anything, that just makes my point for me about how free speech is being compromised. It's a tough environment to publish comic books in because every publisher is terrified by the spectrum of extreme possible reactions from an increasingly intolerant environment where everybody's playing "gotcha" and looking for the worst possible and most extremely negative interpretations of everything.

The whole point of free speech is my duty to defend others' rights to have it, not to shout them down or demonize them.

[12freddofrogs]

An episode of my ideal Batfamily TV Show

Over the past few weeks I’ve been writing about how I’d make a Batfamily show. It got somewhat longer than I expected. I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about the dotpoint writing style, but at this point I’ve invested far too much effort not to start posting.

This is an extract from Chapter/Season One, aka the ‘Dick is Robin’ era. Specifically the ‘Dick is seventeen and starting to chafe under Bruce’s leadership, beginning to plan a move to Bludhaven’ era. The formatting doesn’t quite translate to tumblr, but the full chapter is available on AO3. Please check it out - other episodes include the time Batgirl accidentally told the internet Batman’s breath smells like pepperoni, has to frantically make sure he never finds out; a full-length flashback episode that draws paralles between how Dick met Bruce and how growing up changed their dynamics; Dick trying to work out the best way to invite Babs to prom; and a glimpse into what the general perspective of Bats are when Gotham City puts on a play about them. Lots of Batfamily fluff, and in the coming weeks another five seasons/chapters will be added to play around with character dynamics for everyone.

Season One, Episode Thirteen - Birdcage

One episode revolves around Dick Grayson, the billionaire ward of Bruce Wayne, getting kidnapped.

 Bruce is going frantic.

 He can’t even leave because he has a dozen police with him at all times. It’s clearly killing him that Batman can’t go.

Batgirl on the case, though.

Bruce is trying to whisper tips about the detective work into his phone without letting Detective Montoya see him. Batgirl grumbles that she knows what she’s doing.

Dick, meanwhile, is very bored.

He’s tied up on a chair, trying to entertain himself by untangling the knots. Whenever the kidnappers glance at him, he goes still again, not letting them realise his hands are free.

He makes it into a game, waving and pulling faces whenever they look away.

They don’t catch him at this, but when moving him to a new location, they put a blindfold on.

Naturally, Dick takes this off as part of his game. Just slightly, only barely enough that he can peek.

 It has the added bonus of letting him see the kidnapper’s faces once they remove their ski-masks.

Less of a bonus when one of them comes over and sees the hint of Dick’s iris peeking through a gap.

The one that finds it curses violently, and tries to pull it back to where it should be.

“Just take the whole thing off; it’s not worth it if he’s already seen our faces.”

The kidnappers call Bruce.

He’s sitting in the police precinct, waiting impatiently and frustrated that he can’t do anything.

 When he realises who it is he waves over Gordon, putting it on speaker phone.

 “I’m here. Where’s Dick — is he okay?” Bruce asks, an odd mix of frantic and controlled.

 “He’s fine. Have you got our money?”

  Gordon cuts in. “We want proof of life, first.”

  “Alright, fine.”

 Back in the warehouse, the phone is jammed to Dick’s ear. “Hi, Bruce.”

 “Dick! Are you okay? Have they hurt you?”

 “I’m fine.” Dick glares at the kidnappers.

“For the time being,” the lead kidnapper corrects, taking the phone back. “Have you got our money, Mr Wayne?”

  “Yes, yes,” Bruce’s voice comes over the phone. “I’ll send it through now, just don’t hurt Dick.”

 The kidnappers wait until their laptop announces that money has been paid into the account. The one sitting on the laptop nods at the one with the phone, while the third waits in the corner.

  “Well, it looks like that’s all come through,” the lead kidnapper says. “Which means I’m actually really sorry about this, Mr. Wayne.”

  Dick immediately stiffens. The boredom vanishes from his face.

 “See, if all had gone according to the plan, we would have handed him over now. But unfortunately, someone put the blindfold on him wrong, and he saw our faces.”

 Dick’s eyes widen as the man takes out a gun and hefts it at him. “Wait—”

 “Please understand, this is just protocol.”

The scene switches back to the precinct as a gunshot echoes.

 BANG!

“No!” Bruce jumps to his feet, so hard that he nearly overturns the table. 

Gordon goes white, and the rest of the police listening in look alarmed.

The phone keeps playing, sound of something crashing, a fight going on off-screen.

Shot changes back to the warehouse.

A bullet is embedded in the wall.

Dick is standing in the middle of three unconscious men, breathing heavily. “Please understand, this was just protocol,” he mutters venomously.

 He picks up the gun, unloading it before placing it safely on the table. Then he turns around to focus on the squawking phone.

  “Richard, are you there?”

  “Dick, Dick, talk to me!”

  “What is happening?”

 He almost takes it, before he pulls back, glances at the unconscious men around him.

Bruce at the precinct is still looking sick before a new voice hits the speakerphone.

 “Batman, the phone’s still going.” The voice sounds muffled, as if whoever’s speaking is halfway across the room. “Could you maybe get it… nope, heaven forbid you ever talk to anyone. Fine, I’ll do it.” The voice clears up as the phone is picked up. “Heya, this is Robin. Yes, that Robin. Don’t worry, Grayson’s safe.”

  Bruce lets out a long slow breath, and needs to clutch at the desk to remain standing. Colour begins to return to his face.

 Gordon takes the phone. “Hi, Robin. Gordon here. Can we talk to Richard?”

  Camera changes back to Dick, holding the phone.

 “Heya, Commish!” ‘Robin’ says it cheerier than would be natural, his voice slightly higher than usual. “Sure thing, just give me a second. The kid’s, um, throwing up. But you know the first attempted murder’s always the hardest.”

  “No rush,” Gordon says in the precinct, checking with his eyes to see if Bruce is okay with that. Bruce nods. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Nothing special, really,” Robin says, grimacing despite his cheery tone. “Batman and I tracked down these guys, and right on time. Stepped in before it could get ugly. We’ll leave them tied up for you at the scene.”

  He reaches for his belt, realises he’s not wearing it, and goes for the rope that had attached him to the chair.

  “Okay. Where are you?” Gordon’s voice is mildly scratchy — the signal isn’t great.

 The question makes Dick freeze. He glances at the window, and can only see that they’re several storeys above the ground.

 The shot changes back to the station as ‘Robin’ stumbles for an answer. “We are… hold on, one second I’m talking … just a minute… okay, fine, here.” There’s a stumble of movement as if the phone was being passed from hand to hand, and then a new voice comes on.

  “Bruce?” The ‘Dick Grayson’ voice is quieter than ‘Robin’, soft and very shaken and not as high pitched. “Are you there?”

 “I’m here, Dickie,” Bruce says immediately. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m — I’m fine. Robin and Batman got here just in time.” Dick’s voice hesitates. In the warehouse, he’s struggling to tie up one of the men who’s semi-conscious. “Robin was so cool when he broke in, he just took the guy out like that!”

In the precinct, Bruce can’t help but roll his eyes. But he’s smiling nonetheless.

Dick moves onto tying up next kidnapper, holding the phone at arm’s length. “You weren’t too bad yourself with that flip out of the way, kid,” he says as Robin. “Where did you learn to do that?”

 Switches back to ‘Dick’. “The circus.’

 ‘Robin’: “Well, nothing beats Bat training, but that was pretty cool.”

Batgirl bursts in through the window.

 She lands on the ground in a perfect spring, and then pauses to notice the unconscious men.

“Di—”

  Dick shakes his head frantically, striking one hand across his throat. “Hey, Batgirl!” he says gleefully, his voice contrasting with his expression. “Sorry, I can’t talk right now. I’m on the phone with the Commish, talking about how me and Batman saved Grayson.”

“Right.” Batgirl nods once, relaxing against the wall. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No sweat. Batman and Robin are capable of doing this ourselves.” He winces when Batgirl raises an eyebrow. “Sorry Commish, gotta go, we’ll drop the Grayson kid off for you on the ground.”

He hangs up.

“ ‘Batman and Robin are capable of doing this ourselves’?”

“I know, I know, don’t mock me.” Dick rubs his hand over his forehead. “It was the first thing I thought of.”

They decide Batgirl should deliver Dick back to safety.

Batgirl takes the phone back, texts an address to the precinct, and hangs up.

They finish locking up the criminals, and then wait at the window until they see a patrol car approaching.

“Alright. Let’s go.” Batgirl opens the window and holds out her arms to Dick.

“What – what are you doing?”

 “Well, you can’t exactly swing down yourself, Boy Wonder.”

“Oh. Right.”

Dick is awkward about pressing himself so close into Batgirl, wrapping his arms around her neck securely. “Is this okay? Am I hurting you?”

Batgirl doesn’t even answer, just wraps one arm around his back and then other to her grappling hook.

 They swing out the window. Dick gasps and clutches tighter without entirely meaning to.

They land behind the police car.

“Wow, that is terrifying when it’s not your line,” Dick whispers in her ear.

“Go on.” Batgirl pushes him forward to the police rushing towards them.

Dick obligingly untangles himself from her and sprints towards them, collapsing theatrically to whimper when he reaches the patrol.

Bruce arrives later in Gordon’s car.

Dick is sitting in the patrol vehicle, a shock blanket draped around his shoulders when he sees his guardian.

He jumps up and runs forward, hugging Bruce.

Bruce hugs him back.

Later, they’re driving back home.

It’s the first time the two have been alone since Dick got kidnapped.

“In all honesty. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m fine,” Dick says dismissively. There’s no sign of the fact he’d been crying moments before he got into the seat.

“Good. I’m glad.” Bruce hesitates. “I was… worried, when I heard that gun go off.”

“Didn’t think I could handle it?” Dick challenges.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Dick’s jaw tenses, but he relaxes into the chair, finally safe. “Yeah. I know.”

Full Fic Available on AO3.

[holyhikari]

The Wayne-Todd Literary and Tea Society

In which Damian and Jason bond over books and complicated feelings.

Batman (Comics) one-shot. Characters: Damian Wayne & Jason Todd.

Word count:  2695. For General Audiences. No pairings. 

Read on Ao3:  The Wayne-Todd Literary and Tea Society by Beatriz Caelum

When Damian sees Jason Todd, he is always tempted to ask a few questions.

You see, differently from most, what he wishes to say usually isn’t about the killing that happens when Jason puts on the infamous red helmet. That he is capable of understanding. Damian didn’t use to kill for anything related to ethics  — a natural aspect of his birthright more than anything else —, as grey as morality can get in both sides of his family, but he has blood on his hands nonetheless.

There isn’t much to say about dying, either. They’ve both been there, at different times, in almost different worlds, clinging to what Bruce Wayne once meant, but Death is timeless and the same to everyone it touches. (It is life that is different. Damian woke up to love and Jason to absence.) 

Sure, there were some scattered talks about it over a rooftop or two, mostly questions, “What do you remember of it?” and  “Do you feel wrong when you breathe?”, that were met with, “I’m not sure,” and “Being alive to me has always felt somewhat unsettling,” but it wasn’t long before they realized that it was the last thing they wished to talk about, even with someone who could understand.

Good thing they can work just fine with silence.

Even though almost a full year has gone by after Damian was bought back to the unfortunate land of the living, he still catches the Red Hood looking out for him more than what is necessary whenever they happen to meet under Gotham’s night sky. It’s something he does even when they are in different sides of a fight, “not opposite sides,” Hood would say, “you know what I want for this hell of a city is the same that you want, too.”

(Damian supposes it is the same in more ways than it is not, but Father has a more abrasive opinion on the matter.)

Regardless of how many times Damian has snarled for him to stay out of his way — like a little brother would be upset rather than an acquaintance or an ally —, that he does not need the extra protection, especially not from him, the Red Hood is insistent. Merciless even about this.

Father’s face twitched when he mentioned the gesture. Drake teased, “you complain when we don’t like you, you complain when we try to help.”  Richard gave him a sad smile that Damian couldn’t shake off for days; Nightwing is also prone to reckless protection around Robin, closer to endangering himself than he would be otherwise.

It makes it harder to work. It makes it more painful to love and be loved by Richard. It makes him more sensitive to what persisted of Father’s grief. But, right now, Damian can only think of how it makes him more curious about Jason Todd  — he could write a list. How can you be so ruthless, yet so caring? How much of your idiocy is staged? How was Father before he lost you? Do you truly not realize the hole you left inside his heart?

But, most of the time, he wishes to ask him about Mother.

Damian knows they spent some time together. What of her that he knows that her own son doesn’t? He wonders, sometimes, what would have been of their weird brotherhood — if you could call it that — if Mother was to tell him about the ex-Robin’s leap into the Lazarus Pit. They could’ve met. He was very young then, but his tender age had never been an issue to the League. Perhaps, after probably trying to murder Jason for planning to hurt the Batman of all people, he would grow to admire that… unique determination.  Like he does now, although reluctantly.

However, what actually pulls the trigger and has Damian swallowing his pride has nothing to do with blood — in any sense of the word.

“What do I own the visit?”

The way Damian stiffs, full on Robin gear and with only one foot into the apartment’s window, could only be caught by someone trained under his Father. The Red Hood snorts, a sound distorted by the helmet’s voice modulator.

“I assume you let me in,” he chooses to say. “Otherwise your security methods could be compared to the skillset of a babbling infant. And that is me being polite.”

“It sure is,” Hood sits down, couch worn out and small like most of his safehouses, reaching for a mug resting on a table. The room smells like cheap coffee — the kind that offends Drake to a personal level —, but Damian suspects that this is tea. “Alfred called. Like, a few minutes ago. Said that if I let my window open I might catch a bird.”

Damian clicks his tongue, “I didn’t tell Pennyworth to inform you of my arrival.”

“Are you embarrassed?”

He presses the bag he is holding a little too forcefully to his chest. “No.”

The Red Hood hums and takes off the helmet. Then, Jason Todd blows on his drink.  “You must have noticed by now, but Alfie kinda does what he wants.”

(Damian has very much noticed.)

“Were you about to go out to do any of your nonsense?” He asks. Then, more shyly:  “I could come back another time.”

For a moment, Todd looks like he’s about to ask what Damian wants from him, but instead, he raises an eyebrow. “You don’t get to boss me. Weren’t you supposed to be getting ready to patrol now, baby bat?”

Damian frowns at the nickname. “We’re going in later tonight for a specific mission, but, for once, I am not here to discuss any crime-related activity. It is more… personal.”

“Oh, no.” He groans louder than Damian wants to hear. “Is this any kind of family meeting? I know I have been on kinda-friendly terms with most of you for a while now, but I’m not in the mood for anything personal. ”

“It is not a family meeting.”

“Whatever it is, go to Dick.”

He clears his throat. “I think it will be of your interest.”

“Surprise me, then.” Todd sighs, stretching his arms. The mug is now empty and there’s probably more where it came from, but he doesn’t offer any beverage to Damian. Rude. “Do your worst, but you know I’m badder.”

He refuses the urge to roll his eyes at the insulting use of the English language — Todd is above this! — and drops his bag’s content onto the living room table with little to no ceremony, almost pushing the mug off. Jason curses at him.

Then, nine bangs. One from each Sherlock Holmes book colliding with the wood.

Todd's expression shifts in a way that Damian knows he wishes he still had the helmet on.

“These are mine,” he draws out, slow.

“Indeed.”

“You —,” Todd narrows his eyes, the greenish blue glowing accusingly. “You stole my books?”

Damian bristles, “I am above stealing.”

“I don’t remember giving them to you,” he points out. “Or letting you borrow them.”

“They were in the Manor’s library,” he says. “With some other books that also belonged — belong to you, I believe. They had a special place just for them.”

“Wh—”

“Pennyworth.”

Todd’s shoulders are still tense, but the lines around his eyes soften at Alfred’s name. Damian can see that there’s some sort of internal struggle by the way Jason’s body carries itself in what he recognizes as the most unforgiving self-discipline; as if his fingers itch to run through the books’ covers, open them, press gently to the pages’ margins to see — to feel — if the notes he took so fervently all those years ago are still intact, but he doesn’t want to have this moment in front of Damian.

“You came here to tell me you found out Alfie is a good person,” Todd deadpans, but Damian catches the constipated emotion nonetheless. “Amazing job, Detective.”

“I came here,” he hesitates, “because I saw your notes.”

Todd wrote on all the nine volumes, a  rushed, clumsy but determined calligraphy squeezed between the edges and Arthur Conan Doyle’s words, mostly untouched with the exception of a few phrases carefully circled by Alfred where Todd had made a grammar or spelling mistake. By the end of each and every book, there’s Father’s handwriting complementing Todd’s observations and theories about the plot, the mysteries and the characters throughout the pages.

It made Damian heart’s ache when he saw it all. Younger Todd’s excited rambling about what he was reading was very, very bright. More often than not, he grasped even the more obscure clues and foreshadowings Doyle left within the narrative — a detective in making. A natural.

Damian had imagined Jason Todd as this dense, unruly kid that would only pick up a book if someone made him. Someone who worshipped senseless violence. It’s what almost everyone says. It’s what Todd himself tells people.

I was Robin. The bad one.

“And you’re here to tell me how stupid they were? How much better you were at my age?” Todd scowls, getting up a little too fast, already walking towards him. “Because I don’t want to hear any of it. Get out.”

“Thank you,” Damian blurts out before the most Al Ghul part of him shuts his mouth and before Jason pushes him out of the window. “It was a privilege to read them.”

Surprise bursts into Todd’s face and he almost loses his balance when his steps come to an abrupt stop. “What?”

“You were — I saw your other books,” he says. “You have excellent taste in Literature and your notes were filled with very pertinent insights.”  

“You’re complimenting me.”

“Yes,” Damian rolls his eyes. “It would be foolish of me not to admit it.”

Todd opens his mouth, then closes it. He repeats the action a few more times.

“You’re welcome, I guess?” He says, exasperation coloring his tone. “I wish I had a camera.”

“Only the Sherlock Holmes collection had notes on them,” Damian decides to push his look. “I checked it twice.”

Todd’s lips twitch, forming a thin line. A sort of bitterness clings to him and Damian is suddenly too aware of the fact that the boy who wrote what he read is lost to more than time itself.

“B gave me them so the deductive skills part of training wouldn’t be so boring,” he sits down again, not looking at anything specific. “He — we decided to make it a sort of game. The notes were for him. So he could see my progress.”

“We don’t do this sort of activity,” Damian finds himself saying. He swallows, hand to his throat. The words hurt to pass through.

"I'd offer you tea, but I just ran out of it."

"Next time."

Todd’s smile is tired, “You can just ask Bruce to do stuff like this with you, gremlin.”

“I suppose I could,” he mumbles. Then, louder: “There are many clean books.”

“Don’t touch my stuff,”  he snaps, but there’s no venom to it. “You hadn’t read Sherlock Holmes before?”

Damian’s back straightens. He puffs his cheeks involuntarily, “Of course I had. I wanted to re-read it. Who do you take me for? I’ve read the most celebrated literary works to date from authors all across the world!”

“To Kill a Mockingbird?” He challenges. “One Hundred Years of Solitude? Beloved? Fahrenheit 451? The Color Purple? The Left Hand of Darkness?”

“Please,” Damian scoffs. “I could’ve written an award-winning analysis on all of these when I was four.”

“What’s the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything?”

“42.”

“Impressive.”

He shoots back at Todd a list of his own and isn’t all that surprised that Jason only stops him once, “Dom Casmurro? Never heard of it.”

“It’s from Machado de Assis,” Damian for once in his life tries not to sound arrogant when explaining something. “Brilliant writer from Brazil.”

“They’ve got Clarice Lispector too,” Todd’s eyes widen in recognition. “I’ll look it up.”

“No need,” Damian waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’ll have a copy delivered to you in no time. We can discuss it later if Capitu did or did not cheat on Bentinho and why it is unclear to this day.”

“I don’t know who these people are, but I bet she didn’t and, if she did, he deserved it.”

Damian almost smiles, “Good guess.”

“Uh,” he blinks. “Are you okay, Damian?”

“Do I not seem in a good condition to you?”

“You want to spend time with me,” Todd says, pointing to himself. “With me. ”

Damian tries to mask the disappointment that creeps up on him with his usual scowl. “If you find it unpleasant and does not wish to—”

“I’m just surprised,” he interrupts. “God. Did I wake up looking like Dick Grayson and no one told me?”

“You’re not entirely impossible to be around, I’ll give you that, but you aren’t Richard either.” He smirks wolfishly. “But you do have a chance to prove to me that you can discuss art better than anyone else in our family.”

The last two words envelop the room in a heavy sort of silence. No one dares to move for far too long, and, despite the stillness of it all, despite how little effort one has to make in order to unveil the exact pace of their heartbeats and what they hide, no noise from the outside is brave enough to interrupt whatever flows between Damian and Jason in this instant.

Damian doesn’t know if Pennyworth keeping the books made him sentimental, or if the Bat Signal is shining behind him for Father, or if the way he said our family was just like Richard says it, or if something about his careful way of approaching reminds Todd of how he and Drake started sorting out their own issues, or if the act of sharing words and finding meaning in it makes Todd’s mind wander off to Cain. Damian has no idea.

But, somehow, they’re all here. With them.

And Todd could run away. He could — and he doesn’t.

His hand finally finds its way to one of the books, with such care and devotion that, if it wasn’t for the bat plastered on Todd’s chest and the gun attached to his waist, no one would believe he’s the Red Hood.

“These stories,” Todd’s voice is not above a whisper, “made me feel like I had a home when you guys couldn’t.”

Damian’s eyes burn behind Robin’s mask. “You can have more than stories now. If you wish.”

The look in Todd’s eyes carries the kind of intensity that makes people afraid to live another day. Damian waits, without as much as breathing, for something to shatter; for having to turn his back and walk out with Todd’s rejection at his trail.

Instead, “Damian Wayne wants me to join his book club.”

Stunned, he almost falters. “If you want to put it that way.”

Todd turns away to put on his helmet before Damian can get a better look at his expression, but, if there’s anything feigned about Todd’s agreement, he isn't able to see. He seems to be getting ready for the night, back turned to Damian and a serenity to his movements that wasn’t there before.

“The things I do for art,” the voice modulator makes his dramatic sigh sound like static.

“I only expect the best,” Damian warns. “I choose the books.”

“Always?” Todd protests. “But then we’ll never know in which Hogwarts house you’re in, or who is your godly parent and if you’re in Camp Half-Blood or Camp Jupiter, if you’re Team Edward or Team Jacob, and I won’t get to see your face when Prim goes boom, or —”

Damian is almost regretting this already.  “What even is this nonsense?”

“Oh, I’ll let you know.” Todd has one foot out of the window. “This is going to be priceless.”

“I won’t read any garba—”

“See ya in the Slytherin common room!”

“Where?”

Damian still has many questions to ask, but he is already gone, of course, and Robin is completely alone in the apartment.

But nowhere near as lonely as the other times Jason walked out on a conversation.