#because if not i’m seriously going to snap and maybe become the joker. so. yeah.

[nellievances]

the last two times that i had tickets to see halsey the universe fucked me over so everyone shut the fuck up and manifest everything goes smoothly for tonight 🙏

[gayestnerdsinfiction]

Rivalry

requested by @micapearls (ed hearing jon full body laugh for the first time)

Ever since he first met Jonathan Crane, Edward has had an unshakable fixation on eliciting any type of emotional expression from the other man. To the untrained eye it would appear Jonathan was unable to experience any human emotions beyond displeasure and annoyance. Jonathan doesn’t cry, he doesn’t shout when they argue, he doesn’t allow any facial expression to inadvertently cross his stoic features. Over time, Edward has been able to get a better feel for the subtle cues that indicate his partner’s emotional state, but Jonathan still makes an effort to hold his feelings and opinions close to his chest. Edward wants so badly to break him of this habit. He’s lost count of the amount of meaningless arguments he’d blown out of proportion in the hopes of making Jonathan visibly angry. But perhaps that’s just trauma reenactment.

It was after one such failed attempt to goad Jonathan into an argument that Edward finally got what he was looking for. He had unsuccessfully tried to get a rise out of the other man, throwing out the cruelest, most spiteful things he could think of. Things he didn’t mean, things he doesn’t want Jonathan to think he meant. Unfortunately, this only resulted in Jonathan disappearing off into the lab, leaving Edward to sulk alone in the living room. He’s sitting on the couch, staring absently at the television when Jonathan finally reappears from the basement, his expression as austere and unreadable as ever.

“I’m having a drink,” the older man announces, breezing past Edward and into the kitchen. He removes a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and holds it up for Edward to see. “Do you want one?”

Edward doesn’t particularly care for whiskey but he can recognize a peace offering when he sees one. He nods wordlessly, sliding to one end of the sofa to make room for Jonathan to sit if he wanted to.

Jonathan pours the two drinks, bringing them into the living room and handing one to Edward. He accepts. Takes a small sip, trying to ignore the unpleasant taste.

“What are you watching?” Jonathan asks as he sits down a respectful distance away from Edward.

“News,” he says. “I’m looking at it more than I’m really watching it.”

Jonathan studies the screen for a few moments, sipping his own drink steadily. “Turn up the volume,” he says abruptly.

Edward obliges, directing his own attention to the TV as well. The reporter onscreen is standing in front of the Gotham University campus. There are cop cars and officers crowded around the building, many of them with heavy tactical gear and weapons.

“Shit, I hope whatever this is doesn’t screw up the heist I had planned for next weekend,” Edward mutters as he puts his drink down on the table.

“…As you can see the police are behind me attempting to negotiate the release of the thirteen hostages currently being held on the University grounds.” The camera cuts away from the reporter to show a closer shot of the police officers at the scene. Edward can make out commissioner Gordon speaking into a walkie-talkie at the front of the group. Bullock stands beside him, looking generally burly and gruff but otherwise not contributing much. “The location and condition of the hostages is unclear; all we know is that those thirteen students and faculty members are trapped somewhere in the Joker’s sadistic maze. More updates on the way as we continue to document the most recent criminal exploits of Gotham’s most fearsome criminal.”

“Ouch,” Jonathan says dryly. “Seems unfair that I’m not the most fearsome criminal in this city but I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.”

Edward, in the meantime, is too busy trying to navigate the mixture of anger, surprise, and jealousy that has begun burning in his chest to even register Jonathan’s comment. “He—I feel like I’m having a stroke, I mean, did that reporter say what I think she said?” he splutters, standing up from the couch to gesticulate wildly at the screen.

“What’s your problem?” Jonathan asks. “Joker does something like this every week, you can’t be surprised at this point.”

“You don’t understand,” he snaps, ignoring the heat he can feel rising into his face and ears. “I was going to do a sadistic maze at the university. Me! That fucking clown stole my idea! I mean, am I the only person with any goddamn integrity in this vile city?” He collapses back onto the couch, throwing his arms up. “I had the whole thing planned out, all the pieces built and ready to be set up and he just swoops in with his dollar store makeup and awful dye job and ruins everything like he always does. I mean, do you know how hard it is to build a maze from scratch and make it appear with fully functional traps and people in it before the cops show up? It’s not easy, I’ll say that. And it’s not cheap either!”

Jonathan watches Edward’s hysterical monologue in silence, takes a few moments to digest the entirety of the rant, and then bursts out laughing.

Edward’s jaw drops. Usually when Jonathan laughs it’s little more than a sharp exhale or the hint of a smile. But this laugh is a loud, unrestrained cackle, so raspy in places it almost sounds like a wheeze. It’s the first time he’s ever seen his partner seem genuinely tickled by something and he can’t even enjoy it because it’s at his own expense. He can’t tell if he’s more shocked to see his partner’s entire body wracked with laughter, or more indignant that he’s being laughed at in the first place. He snaps his mouth shut, his face screwing up into a scowl. “It’s not funny.”

“It absolutely is. Your whole thing with the Joker is hilarious.”

“It is not! He’s completely destroying my reputation, my career in this town. I mean, now I can never do that heist I had planned because the Joker already did it and everyone’s already accusing me of ripping off his costume and gimmick. If I even mention that I had the same idea, then people are going to try and accuse me of stealing his fucking intellectual property too.” He gets up again, pacing almost frantically around the room. “It doesn’t even make sense for him to do something with a school, I mean, I’m the one whose whole aesthetic and MO has to do with knowledge and learning. He should go terrorize a fucking comedy club or something, leave the higher education to those of us whose brain cells haven’t been fried by a vat of acid.” He glares at Jonathan who is still doubled over with laughter. “Stop laughing at me, I’m serious.”

He raises a hand to cover his mouth, though it does nothing to soothe his amusement. “I’m sorry. But you have to admit, you sound ridiculous right now.”

“I fail to see how this is ridiculous.”

“You’re demanding artistic integrity from a man who dresses like a clown and kills people for fun.” Jonathan manages to stifle his laughter a bit, but Edward knows he’s never going to let him live this down. “Besides, neither of you went to college so I don’t see how you have more of a right to a university based maze heist than him.”

He rolls his eyes. Jonathan loves to point out that Edward never went to college because it’s the only real accomplishment he has that Edward couldn’t easily replicate. Just because Jonathan suffered through nine years of higher education that would have driven Edward into a murderous rage doesn’t mean he’s better than him. “A maze is a type of puzzle is it not? Last time I checked I was the prince of puzzles which, in my eyes, makes me more entitled to use mazes in my traps. I also think it makes me sound cooler. I mean, ‘clown prince of crime’? How pathetic is that.”

“They’re both pathetic,” Jonathan says. “I don’t know why people keep trying to call us princes like we’re not all broke psychopaths.”

“I’m not broke.”

“But you don’t deny being a psychopath?”

Edward continues to glower at the other man who is still fighting against a smile. “I can’t believe you’re not on my side right now.”

Jonathan shrugs. “I mean, you have to admit your costume color schemes are remarkably similar.”

“They are not! My preferred color scheme is green and purple, his is purple and green, okay, they’re distinctly different!”

“Edward,” he says, using that tone he always takes when Edward is acting irrational, “Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit too seriously?”

“Not in the slightest,” he insists, knowing that this is arguably a stupid thing to care about. “You’ll never know what it’s like to always play second fiddle to everyone’s favorite costumed criminal. At least people are scared of you. Everyone just thinks I’m some kind of joke thief.”

“Well, maybe you need to give them something to be scared of. Show them you mean business.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you propose I do that in a way that is both on brand and not derivative of the Joker’s own crime sprees?”

Jonathan’s smile changes, becoming less humorous and more devious. Edward can see the familiar gleam in his eye that indicates the Scarecrow’s mind is hard at work. There’s the Jonathan he’s used to. “I bet I could give you a few ideas,” he says slyly, finishing the rest of his drink in a single swallow. “If you don’t have any qualms about torturing people.”

Despite the fact that he’s still annoyed with Jonathan for making fun of him, Edward can’t help but flash a smile back at the other man. There’s just something about those clever, sinister eyes that always draw him right back in. “What did you have in mind?”

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 2

Chapter 1 || Next

-----

Until a trip to Gotham came knocking on the front doors

“I can’t believe Lie-la of all people managed to somehow get us the trip to Gotham!” Mari moaned with a mixed expression on her face.

Adrien, who was walking next to them, showed absolute disgust. “Technically, It was my father and I that did the heavy lifting. She really wanted to go to the Wayne Gala and…”

“What Lie-la wants, Lie-la gets.” The three finished in unison before laughing a bit. 

“Don’t worry Mari-bear. I can promise you that this no good liar won’t get to ruin your return home.” Chloe pulled her best friend closer. Best friend. Much better than a servant. Who would’ve thought? “And we can even try to find your mom on free Saturday.”

“Yeah…” The girl with black-blue hair didn’t seem particularly cheerful at that. 

“Now I refuse to have you making sad faces throughout the whole flight. You cheer up right this moment and that’s an order!” The blonde commanded. 

“Yes, Maman-bear.” Mari giggled.

The three of them finally arrived at the rest of the class, who were already gathered around madame Bustier. Of course, Lila was bragging about a million different things, but the three paid her no mind. Adrien did his best to hide behind the girls, cherishing the last moments of freedom. Finally, Mari and Chloe had to step forward for their tickets. The blonde got hers without any problem, but for Mari there turned out to be none.

“I’m so so sorry Marinette!” Lila said with fake regret. “I must have accidentally miscounted the number of students… It must’ve been when I was helping those poor orphans. You know, at…”

“Sure…” Mari didn’t even try to act as if she believed her for a moment. When Lila scowled, realizing that it didn’t affect the girl, she smiled. “I guess Chlo, Adrien and I will have to go with the contingency plan number 1.” 

“What?!” The sausage-hair shouted.

“Of course my Daddy would not send us to travel like peasants. We have tickets for the first class.” Chloe supplied, looking smugly. “We did plan to maybe sit with the rest of the class. What a shame…”

“Yeah, My dad also didn’t want me to travel anything less, but I convinced him to let me stay with my friends. Guess he will get what he wanted in the end.” For his part, Adrien at least tried to look apologetic. He didn’t try hard at all, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“But… But…” Lila tried to come up with something, likely a lie, to counter it. She didn’t have time as the trio handed their teacher the filled forms from their parents/guardians/Nathalie and proceeded to the plane. The tickets were personal, so she couldn’t do anything. The Italian girl came up with a lie to tell to the class, but it would do no good until they landed. 

--------

“Did you see her face?” Plagg was rolling in the air while holding a giant roll of camembert. 

“You were amazing my queen.” Pollen complimented. 

“I still can’t believe your dad just… bought out the whole first class!” Marinette sighed. 

“Phi! Daddy always gives me only the best. You should know it by now, Mari-bear.”

“Okay. Mari. You are the Gotham expert here. Any advice?” Adrien asked a bit more seriously. 

“Gotham survival guide is probably unlike any other city.” She started. “The first rule is, believe it or not, run away if a person laughs too much or smiles too widely. The downside of living in the same city as the Joker is that most people don’t laugh in public. Secondly, never show that you are lost. Wherever you are, it’s exactly where you wanted to be. Finally, the third is to never flaunt your wealth.” She looked critically at Chloe before taking away her purse and lipstick in a golden case. “This,” She then pulled a mobile phone in a ridiculously sparkly case and popped it out of the cover, “this,” finally, she detached the golden chain on which the purse was supposed to be suspended and replaced it with a pre-prepared white one with copper clips, “and this must all go away.” 

“Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! Now it will totally clash with my comb!” Chloe complained.

“Oh no! How will you ever survive that?” Mari deadpanned. All three of them had another burst of laughter. After they calmed, Adrien started.

“Do you think it’s wrong that I want to bet which rule will Lila break first?”

“Ten macaroons she will say out-loud about money.” Mari threw. 

“I raise, four tea parties she will start by asking for direction.” Chloe had a grin on her face

“Are you sure?” Adrien asked. When the blonde nodded, he shrugged. “Movie night and double popcorn bowl refill that she will do both in one conversation.”

“Hi, could you be so kind to point me to my exclusive hotel? You know, I’m staying at the penthouse of this luxurious new one.” Mari gave a quite good parody of Lilia. 

“So to sum up, the pool is now ten Macaroons, Four Tea parties, and movie night with triple popcorn?” Chloe asked. When they nodded, she quickly noted it on her phone. 

“Now, who wants a movie? I think they have the newest Thomas Astruck one.” Adrien pulled a disc from the container next to his seat.

“Good for me!/Go!” The girls said. Chloe, who was in the middle loaded it and the other two leaned onto her to watch together. The three were happy. Faintly in the background, there was knocking on the doors to their part, but nobody paid attention to very angry Liela and some classmates. For some reason, the doors were stuck and the blinder rolled down. Later if someone asked, Pollen would deny everything. 

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

When the plane landed, the class was practically kicked out. The team walked calmly down the stairs, all of them having smug expressions. Lila wanted to comment, but a glare from Mme. Bustier shut her up quickly. Mari and co. would later try to guess, what got the crew so pissed at their classmates.

Once everyone was accounted for, the class made its way to the customs to retrieve their luggage. There was a small problem with Mari’s travel bag as it was apparently misplaced to the flight to Timbuktu, but luckily her true suitcase, which had her things inside, arrived safely. She giggled at the thought of custom office in Timbuktu receiving a bag full of Adrien’s old socks that smelled camembert. 

Overall, the airport went mostly unproblematic. At least until they found themselves cleared and gathered in one place while Mme Bustier left to check on their bus. One of the men, wearing a dark blue suit started to laugh almost maniacally. Everybody immediately cleared away from him, out of sheer self-preservation. Lila must’ve decided that a show of kindness was a good way to regain class’ good grace. She was confidently approaching the man before suddenly Mari grabbed her and pulled her away. The designer might’ve despised the liar, but Joker… you don’t mess with Joker. 

Of course, Lila used the chance. She faked falling on the ground and started crying crocodile tears. “Marinette?! How can you be so heartless? I wanted *sniff* to check on the man and you trip me?” Lila sniffled, eyes watering with crocodile tears.

“I might have saved your life genius!” Mari snapped. Joker was a really touchy subject with her. “Does the world Killer Clown mean something?”

“Don’t invent things, you bully!” Alya shouted. That seemed to break the dam and at once the class started to say awful things to Mari. A year ago, it would hurt her. Half a year ago, she would be sad. Now? Now she pitied them. Chloe didn’t, and she was ready to jump to protect her best friend. 

“Ridiculous! Do you like… share a single brain cell? What if that man was…” she didn’t get to finish because Mme. Bustier returned. The commotion immediately calmed. By now the man stopped laughing and returned to talking with his friends.

“The bus is waiting. Come on children. Follow me.”

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

Arriving at the hotel, the class was split into different rooms. Of course, Lila tried to lie her way into some privilege, but Mari was too dead inside to care. The Jet Lag was killing her. At least she got some sleep on the plane. From the rumors she heard from the class, they didn’t because of Lila’s drama with the staff. 

“Now I want you all to be ready here at eight a.m. sharp. A Wayne Enterprises representative will come here to explain the details of internships.” Mme. Bustier instructed them. This, for some reason, caused outrage in students.

“What do you mean internships?!”

“Wayne Enterprises?”

“Shouldn’t we be preparing to go to Gotham Academy or something?”

The terrible trio in the back had trouble holding back laugher. Adrien warned the girls about what his father planned, so they could all prepare. Gabriel Agreste, devious as he is, decided to punish Lila and teach Adrien something about running a company at the same time and using his connections to put the class up for an internship at WE. He did send the liar all the details, but she must have skimmed over the corporate jargon because the class was fed overexaggerated stories about what they would and wouldn’t do during two months trip. 

Most parents were more than happy to send their children away from Paris for two months, especially since the Internship was free and the employment rate after it was quite high. WE kept quite a lot of the interns, if only out of habit. But perhaps it was mostly because the class has become a go-to place for the Akuma. Only Mr. Pidgeon and perhaps Gigantitan were akumatized more often. Mari actually picked up to cleansing their class weekly through a ritual she learned, otherwise there would be enough residual dark energy to power a demon portal. Not something one would want in the middle of a classroom.

“I was told you’ve all read the brochure provided and Lila summarised it for you.”

“I did!” The sausage hair defended. “Marinette must have told them some imaginary story about the trip!”

Immediately, several other people started to nod and confirm this. Chloe actually started to walk toward the liar almost red, but Mari grabbed the back of her blazer and held her in place. All the while she had a completely deadpan expression like it was normal for her (it was).

Mme. Bustier sighed. “Well, In that case, I will…”

“Excuse me, but shouldn’t we be going to sleep today already? We don’t want to be late tomorrow.” Adrien asked with an innocent expression, but there was some satisfaction hidden there too.

“Well… um… I…”

“We will be going then.” Chloe grabbed the key and led Mari to their room. Calline didn’t even question it. She wanted a pay raise after this. 

-----------

The next morning, Mari was woken by a frantic Chloe

“Mari-bear! It’s already late! You don’t want to be late for your first day of Internship girl! It would be utterly Ridiculous!” 

At first, the girl mumbled something, but once she finally processed everything she leaped out of her bed and started getting ready in record time. She was brushing her teeth, packing her purse, and tossing clothes at her best friend all at once. Once she had everything, she turned to see Chloe on the ground tied with a gray blazer. Mari just burst out laughing.

“How…”

“Ridiculous!” Chloe shook her head. “I demand you untie me this instant! We don’t have time for this!”

Once they dressed and did their hair, both girls were ready. Chloe now had a black button-down shirt, deep red blazer, and a matching pencil skirt. Mari also made her wear smart black stilettos (instead of her usual that were slightly more extravagant). The look was completed by a tablet in leather flip-over cover. Mari had a similar outfit, except her shirt was white and the suit was in dark blue. She opted for flat shoes to spare the embarrassment that was Marigold on heels.

“Ready to rock Gotham City?”

“Like you have to ask.” Mari smiled. There was something about the city of crime that made her feel safe and open up more. Maybe being on home turf gave her the much-needed confidence boost. 

When Chloe tried to open the doors, she found them stuck. She was about to go on a rant about poor quality when Mari casually grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. There was a faint creaking sound as the mechanism gave.

“Um…”

“It must’ve been old,” Chloe said with a devious grin. “Nothing happened. Don’t you worry! I will deal with it.”

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

When the doors to the elevator opened and two girls strode into the lobby, their class was already pushing toward the exit. Adrien looked very much uncomfortable with Lila hanging off his arm, literally sinking her claws into him. He mouthed them a muted ‘later’. Alya stared at the girls with loathing. 

“Ah, you are here.” Mme. Bustier spoke. “Lila said…”

“Whatever.” Chloe dismissed their teacher. “Aren’t we in rush?” The blonde practically seethed the last word. 

“Yes, good to see that someone is responsible.” The teacher gave Mari a pointed look. Apparently, she still didn’t get over the fact that she resigned from the class rep position. 

“But…”

“Drop it. She is not worth it.” Chloe whispered. “Daddy will take care of that once we are done.”

Mari just nodded. She knew Chloe was preparing a lawsuit against the school, but their hands were tied until they graduated or Damocles could try and undermine it. Both girls knew that no adult would help them with the lawsuit beyond Chloe’s father signing whatever dotted line she asked him to. That man was more whipped than a fresh can of whipped cream. 

The ride to the WE was short and uneventful. Girls took up to gossiping in English, effectively limiting any eavesdropping. Mari spent most of the time tearing down the outfits of all the villains. She started with Riddler, more as a joke than actual rant, but then she somehow got onto this new guy Anarky. From there, she just kept on, smoothly sailing from one to the next. Even her mom got some shots. Mari still couldn’t stand how skimpy it was. Her rant carried over when they exited the bus and entered the WE. Security led them to a conference room, where they were told to take seats. 

Mari guessed that it wouldn’t be Lila if she didn’t immediately start sputtering lies about how well she knew the building already because of her Damiboo giving her private tours (All while clutching Adrien like a leech). She didn’t have enough ducks left to give to try to expose Lila about several facts. Such as that Damian Wayne definitely wasn’t living with Bruce when he was five. Any Gothamite could tell her that. Bored, she returned to her rant. 

She was nearing the end of the list and was very much engaged in complimenting Harley Queen for her recent change in wardrobe. She still considered it a disaster, but at least it was somehow human. 

“Ekhm…” A voice broke her out of the rant. “Good morning. My name is Richard Grayson. You are the french class chosen for the internship program, correct?” When people nodded, he continued. Idly, Mari noted that Alya and Lila stiffened and suddenly stopped talking at all. “We reviewed the individual profiles and appointed each of you a mentor that will help you settle into your roles. As I read the names, please come forward so I can update your badges. Do carry them on your person all the time or we will have to take you to our human cloning facility.”

People stared at him. 

“Okaaay… That’s that about jokes…” He sighed. “The rules will be explained by individual departments. Now, who’s up for a tour?” 

People started to cheer at that and Dick smiled. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad?

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

It was that bad. Even worse. He knew from the background check that the class was both insanely talented… and borderline criminal. It was like someone de-aged the Rogues and put them in one class. The report called them Akuma class, which (if google is to be believed) meant demons. He questioned how they got accepted into the internship. 

They only toured two floors when Dick wanted to tear half of them to shreds. He noted immediately that they were bullying the girl with black (slightly blue? Maybe it was dyed?) hair. What surprised him was that the teacher didn’t react. If he was to be honest, the girl and her friend slightly irritated him too. They kept talking and seemed to ignore him. It was not because they kept tearing down each and every bats’ fashion choices. Definitely not that. When they brought up Discowing he had enough. 

“Ekhm. Excuse me, girls,” he stared at them. Both immediately stopped talking and looked at him. “Could you pay attention? I wouldn’t want any of you to waste your internship lost on our maze-testing floor.”

“There is no maze-testing floor in this building.” The blonde pointed out.

“And besides, we memorized all you’ve said.”

“Care to recall?” He heard several people groan at his pun.

“The first floor is most representative, where guests are welcome and low-level meetings happen. There is a separate kitchen for employers there that is always fresh on fruits. Don’t use the coffee machine there as it was only patched up and there is a high chance it will set itself on fire again. The…”

“Fine. You’re good. Still, I don’t appreciate the chatter.”

“They are always trouble!” A girl in bright pink colors shouted. 

“Yeah! Why do you have to ruin this trip for Lila!?”

“You’re just jealous of her boyfriend!”

More voices like this came from the crowd of kids. Dick started to feel bad that he singled the girls out. It definitely gave the class a reason to gang up on them. And the teacher still did nothing! He sighed. What did HR think when they accepted them. He would have to look into it later.

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

Mari decided that she didn’t like Dick. Everyone in their class kept talking, but for some reason, he singled them out. For the rest of the trip, she made sure to pay as much attention as she could. There was this silent determination on her face. Chloe wisely also kept silent. 

After the trip class was led back to the conference room where another employer handed out the identificators and folders containing their assignments. 

“Keep the IDs on you at all times. As opposed to the ones you received, this won’t expire and are synched with your jobs, so you will have access to anything you might need. They are also mandatory to receive lunch in our canteen. When you get acquainted with your tasks, you can go to the level specified at the end of sheet one. Your mentor will meet you there.” With that, he left. Dick really needed to do some in-depth research on this class. Something kept icking his detective sense.

“Well, I’m going to the law department. Apparently whoever made the assignments knew my well.” Chloe bragged to her friend after opening the folder. 

Timidly, Mari also opened her folder. She skimmed over what was inside and groaned. “Apparently, I’m interning as personal assistant to one Tim Drake.”

“They actually assigned you to the sleep-deprived coffee addict?” Chloe asked in disbelief.

“You know him?” She asked in surprise

“He and his brother ruined my daddy’s parties two years ago. They got into an argument that ended up with them wrestling over a cake. It took me weeks to get the cake out of my hair! Weeks!” The blonde summarized.

“oh…” Mari tried to hold back the giggles.

“Don’t laugh! It’s a serious matter! Do you have any idea how much work it takes to have such a perfect hair?!”

“Of course… cakehead.” The girl couldn’t stop herself.

“Ugh, you… you… plant leg.” Chloe said.

“Really?” Mari raised an eyebrow. “That’s the best you can come with?”

“Well, I usually have better things to do than thinking about good insults.” Still, Chloe hugged her best friend. “Be careful. I wouldn’t put it past The Liar to try and sabotage you somehow.”

“I’ll be careful. Wish me luck.”

-----

The elevator took Mari all the way to the highest floor. When the doors opened, she stepped int a large room with one desk. As soon as the doors closed, the woman who was standing there rushed toward her. The girl tensed for a moment but she reminded herself that there is no real threat.

“Oh finally! I was asking them to hire someone else for months!” She had a messed bun of red hair on her head and looked like she didn’t sleep in a week.

“But… I’m just an intern madame!” Mari tried to explain.

“An intern?” The woman paused her packing and stared at the girl with wide eyes.

“Um… Madame Sarah Jackson?” 

“Yes. An intern…” She said in a disappointed voice to herself. “Ah! That’s no problem at all!” She started to tap on her Waynetech Tablet and after a moment she smiled. “There! You’re hired!”

“Wha…?!” Mari shouted, but was interrupted when Sarah pushed the tablet into her hand, followed by a large box full of documents and a small mug with a coffee bean pointing a gun at the reader and words ‘Your Coffee or your life!’.

“They are your problem now! Everything you need is in the box. I left detail about ongoing stuff and whatever you might need. Don’t call. I’m outta here!” She shouted before grabbing her personal belonging and leaping into the elevator.

“But…! But…!?” Mari shouted after the closing doors. She could hear a cheerful shout as the elevator left the level. 

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

Next

[b-rainlet]

Gotham for the fandom ask thingy.

(I ran here so fuckin fast you have no clue)

Hello anon! :D I will answer this now, so you don't have to wait any longer but also....this would be very nice to answer through gifsets...(maybe when I am feeling up for it).

For now, have this:

(It's not proof read because I just sat at this for several hours and I don't wanna look at it anymore).

Favourite Male Character

You mean...besides the obvious answers?? :D

Ngl, it's S2 Jerome. I love that little twink with his parental issues and his tragic backstory and I wanna see him happy. There's a reason I have a bunch of AUs where he ends up having a family (mostly in the form of Lee as his Mother) and gets some actual help instead of being ostracized for being a mentally ill person snapping after years of abuse.

(This also ties into my very strong feelings regarding the fact that nobody actually helps the people at Arkham. And I don't mean the main villains there, I mean all the inmates who get treated like shit and are left behind on the regurlar (remember in S2 when Arkham was about to explode and nobody was talking about evacuating the inmates???? I do).

Other than that, one of my faves is also Jonathan. Which may be a little surprising because I barely talk about him but he was my favourite character throughout the show and he had way too little scenes.

(Kinda telling that the characters I latched onto are both helpless teens who were fucked over by the people who were supposed to protect them and can both trace their villain origin story back to Jim Gordon not caring enough about them lmao).

But the cast is big and varied enough that I actually like everyone? Butch, Zsazs, Penguin, S1 and 2 Ed, Jervis, Harvey, Jim......I like them all!!

(Special shoutout to 514A too, he was soft and baby and I wanted to keep him safe and sound really desperately).

(Another special shoutout to Barnes!! I didn't expect to like him when I first saw him, given he looked like he was gonna be mean and stoic and all, but I ended up really liking him and his story!)

Favourite Female Character

Let's just pretend Ecco doesn't exist for this answer ajdkaskaslj.

I fell in love immediately upon seeing Ecco but all! the women! are so!!! good!!!!

I especially have a soft spot for the side characters. I mean, upon first watching I got attached to Alice (even though she only features in two episodes lmao), and also Kristen Kringle - who isn't talked about much within Fandom, but she was pretty and her and Ed were actually quite cute but then she had to die for him to become the Riddler which was...pretty much telling us from the beginnning 'The woman here die to advance the men's plots'.

Barbara was also a big surprise to me because I figured she'd be the female love interest and nothing more but!! her and Jerome were the best thing in S2 and also the most entertaining thing about the Maniax Plot. (In several ways, I think I had the most fun watching this show during S2 , it was just. Good).

Also upon being in this Fandom and thinking about certain characters a bit longer I also really like Vicky Vale. And Montoya. And I wish they had kept both around for longer.

(I also wish they wouldn't have made Vicky a love interest for Jim. Or Sofia. No love interests for Jim except Lee and Barbara please).

Also Selina!! I love both Selina and Tabitha with all my heart - which may also be surprising because I barely ever talk about Tabby but I contain multitudes aklskddsm, and while I like sharing my horny thoughts about Ecco, I also love to think about Tabby and daydream about her being happy and exploring her (and Selina's) issues with showing weakness and affection and their strong loyalty regarding people that they trust.

I just.....women. Women good.

(Women also deserve to have more character than just being somebody's love interests and I have enough wips that completely sideline the guys to focus on the woman instead lmao).

Least Favourite Character

I don't have many characters that I hate??

I generally tend to instantly love everybody unless they are specifically made to be unlikeable. (I also spite-like characters who are hated for petty reasons, I just have a lot of love in my heart and not much energy for hate lmao).

But there were characters who annoyed me while I was watching.

For one, I think Gotham has a variety of super entertaining villains, but the main villains of each season tend to be....boring.

Safe for Strange they all kinda fell flat for me. Theo. Kathryn. Ra's Al Ghul. His Daughter. Mostly because their plotlines were less exciting than stuff like Jerome's carnival or Mother and Orphan's Hotel of Horrors.

Or their motives seemed a lot less understandable than the ones of the other Batman villains who pretty much always come from a place of suffering and abuse and break/snap under the pressure that's put on them (continuing this take of Gotham creating its own villains by leaving behind - mentally ill - people that need help, which I think is very true to most - if not all - Batman villains).

And then you have some characters that simply suffer from the fact that the show was cut short - which is pretty much any and every S5 character that had way too little screentime, but in this specific case means Jeremiah.

Because I disliked Jeremiah a lot while watching.

Without wanting to step on anybody's toes, him and Nygma are probably the two characters on this show I ended up disliking the most.

Mostly because Miah felt like a very cheap copy of Jerome and to this day I think it was a bad idea to replace Jerome with him, since Jeremiah - to me - seems like a super flat character.

Maybe if we had gotten him without meeting Jerome first, just having a Joker character introduced in S4, maybe I would've adored him, who knows.

But in comparison to Jerome...no. Just no.

(I will spare you from any longer rambles, but I think if you follow me, I talked about the ways Miah is lacking for me before).

My made up version of Miah though? I love him.

With Nygma it's even worse because I adored him. I instantly liked him. I was 100% behind him right up until the godawful Isabella plot happened and then it just all went to shit so quickly, I couldn't stand seeing him on screen anymore.

It's surprising that I didn't stop liking Oswald but to me, Oswald pretty much stayed the same while Ed became all bitter and hard and I just miss dorky S2 Ed you know?

It actually got so bad, I completely turned my back on Nygm/obblepot as a ship because I was so severly disappointed and I barely talk about Ed because I just can't stand what they did with him.

(Another victim of bad writing).

Favourite Ship

I'm just gonna stick to canon ships because I don't ever shut up about my Fanon ships so you probably know which ones I love the most :D

There isn't much romance going on within Gotham if I think about it - apart from Jim - which I definitely prefer. You wouldnt guess it from my blog, but I am not a fan of too shippy stuff because in most cases it just means sex scenes and I can live without those. I want action! Blood! Dead People! Not a two minute make-out session between two bland characters!

I gotta admit that Ed and Lee have some cute scenes and I would definitely ship them if I didn't dislike S4 Ed so much (S2 EdLee tho?? Yes).

Also I thought Jim and Lee was okay and Baby Batcat was quite cute at times but mostly I don't care about the canon ships.

I do ship Barbara and Jim though :D

I remember right before they hooked up in S5 I was like: 'I wouldn't mind if they got back together' and then went 'yay!' when they did and I wouldn't have minded a little more 'Will they?? Won't they??' between those two and them just having the mother of unhealthy relationships on this show.

(Also Jim/Barbara/Lee poly relationship but we can't have everything).

Favourite Friendship

So many good relationships on this show!

I need to rewatch the show soon because I probably already forgot about most of them but from the top of my head: Oswald/Butch and Oswald/Zsazs

Which were both then done dirty lmao. One by having Oswald be overly petty (one of the few times I was like...Pengy...wtf...) and the other by passing up the obvious opportunity to have Zsazs find out who really killed Falcone and just...letting Oswald and Victor never interact again. 

Then of course Ivy and Selina which also gloriously fell apart. Just like Ivy and Oswald. 

(Gotham isn’t the best when it comes to maintaining friendships). 

And the biggest and most grandious friendship of them all: J Squad. 

(Who have too little scenes together honestly and then also simply fell apart after Jerome died. Consistency who?)

Favourite Quote

I don’t know, I don’t have many quotes in my head from the show. Me and my niece mostly reference: “Yeah, that’s a spoon.” - “IT IS ALSO A FORK!!1!!!”

Also: “Gotta Go! Gotta Go! They’re after me and the Scarecrow!”

(There are some dialogue blurps I have written down somewhere because they are inspriration for gifsets but in order to be able to just recite some of them from Memory, I would have to watch this show way more obsessively). 

Worst Character Death

I don’t even gotta say anything do I? :D

But I think the character death that actually made me cry was Jerome’s first death. I clearly remember crying because...he just wanted recognition! And praise! And instead he was used as a pawn and betrayed by someone he idolized and he was only 18! My poor little meow-meow!

Seriously, the only things that make me cry on this show: Jerome’s first death, any and all mention of Bruce as a baby - told by an emotional Alfred, any and all Bruce/Alfred interaction at all and Solomon Grundy. 

This made me so happy you have no idea Moment

I seriously need to rewatch this show, it’s been so long :D

But I remember being pretty excited for the J Squad Team Up - because I was like ‘If I were Jerome I would definitely work with Tetch and Scarecrow since they’re also in Arkham atm’ and then he did!!

And I also distinctly remember in S3 that I was close to falling asleep right when they scene came on where Oswald realizes his feelings for Nygma and let me tell you - it caught me so off guard, I was awake instantly lmao. 

(I knew that people shipped them but I was so used to mlm ships being popular when they only have a handful of scenes and are platonic friends that I didn’t expect them to actually have a possibility of being canon). 

From then on I was super pumped for them to deliver on that ship but well....we all knew what happened asnksnndk. 

Saddest Moment

Aside from the already mentioned scenes in the character death column, the scene where Bruce leaves and Selina runs to the airport. I always liked Selina but she wasn’t a priority character of mine (much like Bruce isn’t) but then that scene happened and in an instant, I felt super protective over her. 

She is now my baby. My daughter. My beloved wife. She deserves everything and most importantly she deserves better than Bruce Wayne. 

(Coincidentally that was also the scene where I decided I don’t care much about Bruce asldjkjlj. I absolutely adore early seasons Bruce though). 

Favourite Location

There are so many different locations, I don’t think I can adequately answer this with my spotty memory :D

But I always loved the few episodes where Alice features, because I love how her scenes are shot so probably the little carnival Jervis prepares for her.

Also!! Jeremiah's church!

Or Commissioner Loeb's secret house (Especially the Attic).

There are a lot of cool locations, I gotta gif some of them soon :D

[pricetagofficial]

Ghost -Part Eleven

Warnings: Language, angst

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.9K

Tag List: @kishony-the-geek​ @idkmanicantenglish​ @unknowntoanyone​ @subtleappreciation​ @catxsnow​ @spxder-mxns​ @river-bottom-nightmare​ @screennamealreadyused​ @woahjaybird​ @bikoncon​ 

A/N: Do I start to fix things? Maybe.

Ghost ran through the street as fast as she could, Cheshire was still in town and there was a high chance she was not alone. They were out for her head, it seemed the League was finally catching onto the hint that she was not going to join them so it was decided that she was too dangerous to live. It was a dick move to leave Jason and Tim on that roof, but if she didn't leave she would have confessed everything right then and there.

She planned to return to the cave, but there were things she needed to get first. The bag she carried everywhere was still in her safe house, and it held everything she kept with her on this hunt of hers and there were items she refused to lose because Bruce had her under house arrest.

Jumping down she swung through the open window and rolled into the bedroom and took a quick look around. It seemed that nothing was missing, or out of place. Slowly, Rory rose to her feet staying as silent as she could listening for a hint that someone was there. A hand rested on the hilt of her sword as she slowly made her way to the corner where her bag rested, Rory's dark eyes narrowing in the pitch blackness of her temporary home.

Something was not right, she could feel it but Rory had no time to investigate. She had to get back to the Batcave before she was found again and almost killed again. Her other hand held the straps to her bag as she flung it over her shoulder. It was silent, almost too silent as if the birds of the night knew someone was there that she was unaware of.

Taking one more look around, Rory quickly dove out the window and ran unaware of the flash of silver that shone across the room once she turned her back.

"Hey Signal, there a tracker on your bike?" she called into the night.

"Did you forget who I work with, Batman puts a tracker in everything. But you are right around the corner from it, I'm guessing you are on your way back?" Duke asked.

"Yeah, the other two are alive at least the last I saw them they were." she chuckled, jumping off the roof and rolling into a landing. "I'll be there in a few, Bats isn't back yet?"

"No, no one is back yet. See you when you get here Ghost."

"right back at you Signal." she chuckled jumping onto the bright yellow bike and taking off towards the cave.

As she drove, Ghost could not shake the feeling that she was being watched. It was an uneasy feeling and no matter how many twists and turns she made, there was a feeling of someone watching her from the shadows. Not wanting to push her luck further, Ghost made a straight shot for the cave.

Pulling into the familiar waterfall, Rory saw that she was the last one back. Taking off her mask, she shot Duke a look who only shrugged. He wasn't lying when he said that no one was back, but then she went silent, and somehow the others managed to beat her back.

Getting off the bike, Rory held her bag close to her chest and avoided the gaze of Bruce who stood there with his arms crossed.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"I kept Jason and Tim alive, you're welcome," she said, heading straight for the cell.

"Where did you go after that?" Tim asked.

"To get my bag?" she asked, turning to look at him. "I thought it was obvious, you know considering the fact that I came back with it?"

"What's in the bag?"

Rory groaned and dropped it in front of them. "Are you really that suspicious of me? Seriously? After I kept two of you alive, I thought you were paranoid but this is a whole new level." she snapped. "Go ahead, go through my bag just try not to get a little too excited when you get to my underwear."

None of them made a move to look in the bag, Rory staring at them with an unamused expression. If they were going to be this ridiculous, so was she. They should at least trust the fact that she would never bring something dangerous into the cave to hurt them. They may all hate her, but that did not mean she hated them or wanted any of them hurt.

After a few moments of tense silence, Rory bent over and grabbed her bag, and walked back to the cell. Shutting the door, she set it on the ground and sat on the cot, and crossed her arms. Duke looked mildly amused at the situation, he knew what Rory was doing because he saw the footage from her mask. What he wanted to know was what made them all refuse to trust her, sure she was an assassin but did that mean they had to hate her?

Aurora Queen was a mystery, he had never even heard of her until she showed up in the cave a few days ago but ever since the others had been on edge like they were waiting for her to do something. Duke knew from Damian that she and Tim had a past and from the look of it, it was a long one but no one was willing to elaborate for him to understand but maybe if he got Rory to trust him she would confide in him?

Rory leaned back against the wall and looked around, they all had lived without her. It killed her to see it, Tim talking with Cass and Steph, Dick with Barbara while Damian was bugging Jason. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, that they all stopped living while she was gone? Of course, they didn't, Gotham needed to be protected and no one else was going to do it if they were not around.

Her eyes went to her bag where at the bottom, rested the wooden box she had gotten from Tim that held her prized possessions. Tim didn't even know she had kept it, and if he did would he still think different of her? The sounds of their conversations drifted through the cave, and it was then Rory had never felt more alone.

She laid back on the cot and closed her eyes, hoping that they would get the hint she wanted to be left alone. One by one, they stopped talking and everyone exited the cave. Thinking that she was alone, Rory sat up and grabbed her bag sliding it over to her. The temptation to look in the box had gotten stronger, she needed something to look back on.

This last year of her life was not an easy one, each day was a struggle not to lose herself in the darkness Rory surrounded herself in. The more she killed, the more she felt herself slip away into the nothingness and become numb to it and it scared her. But being scared meant that she still had feelings, so she held onto that fear until it too slowly began to fade away and replaced it with nothing but pain.

Pain from the fact that she was alone, and she had done it to herself. But like always, Rory told herself it was for good reason. She had to do this, to keep Tim, Oliver, Roy, and Dinah safe. Rory knew that they could take care of themselves, Tim having dealt with the fact that Ra's wanted him as a successor more than Bruce or Damian. Dinah and Oliver had fought the League more times than they could count and could clearly take care of themselves, but Rory was their weakness. If she removed herself from the equations, the League wouldn't be tempted to use her against them.

"You seem pretty deep in thought there."

Rory jumped out of her skin and looked up and saw Barbara standing there with her arms crossed. She gulped and slowly set the box behind her back, hoping Barbara didn't see it. If she saw it, it was unknown because she had a neutral expression on her face.

"Just reflecting, I see you went through with that surgery," she replied.

"It seemed a risk worth taking, you know how much I missed being out there. Being Oracle, I got to keep everyone safe from a distance. But now, I can make sure they stay safe." she explained.

Rory nodded, it made sense. Multiple times, Barbara had told her how much she missed being Batgirl after it was taken away from her by the Joker. It was still unknown what he did to her after he shot her, but Rory knew that it was not good or something she was willing to talk about.

"You know, they may act like they hate you but deep down everyone missed you."

Huffing a laugh, Rory looked up at Barbara. "They sure have a funny way of showing it, I almost thought they would rather me dead."

"You know for a fact they do not want you dead, why else would Dick save you all those weeks ago?" she asked.

"Guilty conscience, I knew that between him and Jason Dick would not let me bleed out. It's what makes him, him."

Barbara chuckled and shook her head. "You might have a point there, Dick can't help but save people. It's who he has always been" she raised her head to look at Rory. "You were the same way yourself, maybe it's why the two of you got along so well."

Rory closed her eyes, "I'm not that person anymore, the Rory you knew is dead. All that's left is her shell animated by a ghost of the girl you want me to be."

"But you could be, no one is truly lost forever, Rory. We all have lost ourselves at one point, but we came back. We didn't let our failures stop us, it made each of us stronger. It's how you learn to be a better version of yourself, by struggling and not giving up no matter what."

Letting out a sigh, Rory finally lifted her head to look at her. "Babs, there is no going back for me. Not after what I did to Tim..." she muttered.

Barbara opened the cell door and sat with Rory on the cot and slowly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Rory, what aren't you telling us?" she asked softly.

She kept her head turned away, but Rory did not brush her hand off. Could she tell Barbara what she was going and why? Rory refused to tell anyone what she was doing because she wanted to keep them safe, but it was getting harder and harder. There was a pit at the bottom of her stomach that grew and grew each time she told a lie, and it never went away. How could she tell Barbara that she crushed Tim's heart to keep him safe?

Rory didn't know she was crying until the tears landed on her hands that were clasped on her lap, she took a deep breath to try and hide it but Barbara saw right through it. She didn't hesitate a second before she pulled Rory close and held her tightly to her chest as she cried.

"I'm so tired of all of this..." she sobbed, gripping her arms. "All I wanted was to keep everyone I loved from getting hurt, only to turn around and do it myself. As shitty as this city is, I miss it."

Barbara held her close and listened as she cried, rubbing her back. "You miss more than the city don't you?"

Rory kept her mouth shut as tears fell from her eyes, the thing she missed most lived in this city and was upstairs probably cursing her name at this very moment because she made his worst fear real. The love she felt for Tim was stronger than anything she had ever felt, and it killed her to say that she never loved him.

Because of her, Tim was probably never going to trust a single person when they say they love him now. She had cut him deep with her words alone, and disappearing was the icing on the cake. She broke the promise, that wherever she went he would go too and where he went she would follow. Partners, through thick and thin.

But they weren't partners anymore, they weren't even friends. Rory and Tim were strangers, passing in the night without a single word to the other. There was a high chance that they would never be the same, how could he even look at her after what she said.

"I saw the box Rory, you don't have to hide it from me. I know you miss him, how could you not?"

"He hates me, Babs... I said horrible things to him, he has every right to hate me." she whimpered, the words finally falling from her lips. "I said that I never loved him, that he was just someone to fuck while I was in town." The tears were in full force again, as she recounted the words she said that night to Tim with vivid detail.

"Everyone hates me because I hurt him so bad, and I don't know how to even forgive myself."

Barbara rubbed circles in her back as she listened, "Maybe it isn't yourself that you need forgiveness from, you need it from someone else first."

"He can't know, no one can," Rory mumbled, the words barely heard.

"How can we help you if you can't tell us the truth, Rory? This mission of yours is only going to get you hurt, or worse killed. We already lost you once, don't make us lose you a second time."

Rory sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking at Babs. "I need to go back out tomorrow night, depending on how things with Samantha goes I will tell everyone why I left."

Barbara gave her a soft smile before she nodded. "Alright, how about you get some sleep alright? Do you want to come up to the manor and sleep in a real bed and not this cot? Your room is still the same, no one has touched it."

Shaking her head, Rory declined. "I doubt they trust me enough to let me upstairs. I don't want to step on more toes than I already have."

Getting to her feet, Barbara looked at Rory. "Alright, but please try and sleep okay?" she called and walked out of the cell and waved before she walked up the stairs to the manor.

Now that she was alone in the cave, Rory changed quickly into sleep attire and curled up on the cot. Crying had taken a lot of her energy and she was exhausted, it wasn't long before she passed out and let sleep overtake her.

The next day had come and gone quickly, Rory had spent a lot of her time training with a punching bag. It was clear that she had a lot of pent up feelings and did not want to be caught up in it, afraid she would break them in half.

When the time came for patrol again, Rory gave her word that she would not kill Samantha just observe. Things were not sitting right with her about the whole situation and Rory wanted to know why. She was paired up with Dick for the night, seeing as he was the one least likely to kick her off a building.

Rory was currently off to the side and adjusting her gauntlets when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning, she saw Tim behind her. This time, he didn't look angry at her but there was a hidden emotion in his blue eyes. Rory had to keep herself from getting lost in them like she always did and cleared her throat, queuing him to speak.

He rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh and looked at the ground. "I never got to thank you for your assistance last night, I wasn't exactly the nicest person in the world and you didn't have to come after us."

It took everything in her to not brush the loose hair from his face like she used to out of habit. "Is this the start of an apology Timothy?" she teased lightly.

Tim let out a huff. "A little bit of that, along with a thank you."

Rory felt a smile grow on her face. "I guess I should say the same, I wasn't very nice either. if you hadn't have stopped Cheshire, I would not be here. So thank you, Tim."

The two of them stood there awkwardly, not meeting the gaze of the other. They weren't friends, but this was a step in the right direction.

[wonderlandleighleigh]

TimKon or anything from the Tuna Melt-verse, which is fantastic, by the way.

Thank you!!! Here’s some unfinished Tuna Melt Fic. Maybe one day it’ll get done. It’s called “His Day in Court.” The Joker origin referenced is lifted from Batman: Streets of Gotham.

“Mister President.” 

Bartlet looks up from his desk and grins, before getting to his feet slowly. “Judge Walters.” 

As they shake hands, Jed marvels, not for the first time, at just how tall, and just how green Jennifer Walters is. She’s a beautiful woman. 

She’s just…

Well, she’s She-Hulk.

Well, she used to be She-Hulk.

Now she’s a United States federal judge.

Like Mendoza, getting Jenn appointed as a federal judge had been a nightmare. She’s green, she’s huge.

She’s hardcore leftwing.

“Please, have a seat,” he offers, gesturing towards the couches and chairs. 

Jenn nods, and does, settling into one of the chairs carefully,  always hyper-aware of her own body and its impact on the world around her. 

“I assume you know why I’ve asked you here,” he says, settling onto the couch next to her, clasping his hands in his lap. 

“I have a pretty good idea,” Jenn smirks, leaning back a little. “The Joker case?” 

Bartlet nods. “The Joker case. The prosecution is putting everything together, and I’ve been informed you’ve been chosen to preside.” 

Jenn doesn’t say anything for a long moment, watching the president carefully before speaking up. “Permission to speak my mind?” 

“Of course.” 

“This whole trial is bullshit,” she says. 

“It’s the law.” 

“It’s bull. Look, I believe in our justice system when it works the way it’s supposed to, but jesus, this isn’t a case of innocent until proven guilty, this is a case of the defendant boasting in a public forum about the very fact that he is guilty. He’s killed thousands of people. He’s maimed and mentally and emotionally scarred more. Why put the survivors and the families of the dead through this? And how the hell are we supposed to choose a grand jury? An enormous percentage of people in this country, and just about everybody on the East Coast has been affected, in some way, shape or form by the Joker.” 

“So you think we throw United States law out the window and just kill him?” Jed asks, lifting his eyebrows. “You don’t think that might look bad to the rest of the country? That they’ll start pointing fingers at whoever the hell, and asking why those people haven’t been offed too?” 

“I think the Joker is different,” Jenn says. “I think he’s this country’s modern day boogieman, and I don’t think he deserves a traditional trial. And anyways, it’s not out of the question that the Joker could die...other ways.” 

“Jennifer.” 

“Don’t you have the Red Hood on speed dial?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Didn’t I hear that somewhere?” 

“Like that kid hasn’t been through enough,” Jed grumbles. “The last time somebody tried to take out the Joker because they thought it was the right thing, it ended in an office full of dead FBI agents and an attack on this White House. We do this the right way.” 

“The right way would have been lethal injection at Arkham twenty years ago,” she tells him. “Everything beyond that is just us cleaning up decades-old messes.”  

“Jennifer, are you saying we should find a different judge to preside over this case?” Jed asks, looking at her seriously. “Because what you’re telling me is that you cannot possibly be fair-” 

“I’m telling you there is no fair,” she interrupts him. “Mister President, the Joker has eschewed legal council. He’s defending himself, which means he will run around my courtroom like the damn lunatic he is before he gets bored and attempts to massacre everyone in it.” 

Bartlet closes his eyes and takes a breath before opening them again. “Jenn, all we can do is prepare for the worst. But we don’t have any other choice.” 

***** 

“It starts tomorrow, you know.” 

“Hm?” 

“The Joker trial,” Danny clarifies. 

Maggie nods as she steps past him and back into her cube. “And you’re pissed.” 

“A little.” 

“Because you’re not the one writing about it,” Maggie goes on. “Because there’s no way to be impartial when you thought he was gonna kill you.” 

“There’s not an impartial journalist in the world when it comes to this maniac,” Danny points out.

Maggie sits and looks up at him. “You can still go to the trial you know. Take a few days off. Head up to New York. You could even write an independent piece and farm it out to the Atlantic or whatever.” 

Danny shakes his head. “Not worth feeling that angry. How are you doing with all of this?” 

“I...have to be fine,” she says, blowing out a breath. “So I’m fine.” 

 “What are you working on? Anything good?” 

“Well…” 

He frowns, tilting his head. “What?” 

“I...it’s just...how does somebody like the Joker, become the Joker?” Maggie asks. “What drives a person so far over off the deep end that they become...that?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“Doesn’t it?” 

“So you’re looking into who the Joker really is,” Danny surmises. 

“I have some leads,” she admits. “The problem is that he’s killed so many people, it’s hard to figure out what was personal and what was just...his version of a good time.” 

“But you’ve got a hunch.” 

Maggie nods, looking troubled. “I have a hunch.” 

“Well?” 

She blows out a breath. “About five years ago, Joker cornered an aging Mob Boss named Guzzo.” 

“That guy was no joke,” Danny comments, pulling up a chair and taking a seat. “My mentor did a write-up about him back in the day. The stuff he did was almost as bad as the Joker. This was a few years ago, right?” 

“Right. So...Joker corners him on amusement mile and sics a pack of hungry hyenas on the guy,” Maggie says. “All that’s left are a few teeth, which is how they identified him. What’s confusing is that if you look at the interviews done of the for-hire goons back then, Joker and Guzzo didn’t know each other. And if you look at the way the city was split up before Guzzo died, Joker’s usual territory was as far away from Guzzo’s as he could get.” 

“Like he might have been avoiding the guy.” 

“Maybe…” 

“You think there’s a connection?” Danny asks. “Joker kills Guzzo for revenge?”  

“I think Guzzo hurt a lot of people over multiple decades,” Maggie tells him. “What if one of the people he hurt was Joker, before he was Joker?” 

“So you think Joker’s got a sob story.” 

“I think he was once something resembling a person,” Maggie corrects him. “And if you wanna take down a monster, you show the world its weak spots.” 

***** 

“Maybe you should come home for a few days.” 

Jason closes his eyes as he listens to his older brother over the phone. 

“All anybody is gonna be talking about down there is the trial,” Dick goes on. “Or hey! We could take a roadtrip! Load up the car with snacks and sodas and get outta town for a while.” 

“Dick.” 

“I don’t want you to be alone,” Dick admits. 

“I’m not.” 

“Fine. I don’t want you to be so far away from me that I can’t be there for you,” Dick adds. “And neither does Bruce.” 

“Is he testifying?” Jason asks. 

“Yeah,” Dicik confirms. “He’s showing up in full bat-gear and he’s testifying.” 

“That’s nuts,” Jason points out. “This whole -” 

“I know.” 

“Fucking - why can’t I just kill him?” 

“Because it won’t help you,” Dick says sadly. “Little Wing, just because the monster is gone, doesn’t mean the nightmare never happened.” 

Jason goes quiet. “I wanna go to the trial.” 

“Jay-” 

“I wanna go. At least to the first one.” 

Dick sighs sadly. “The last thing I want is for this to be the thing that breaks you. You’ve been doing so well...the job, and the girlfriend...you looked so happy at that wedding we all went to. What if going to that trial just sets you back.” 

“What if he hurts somebody?” Jason asks. “What if he takes down an entire courthouse full of people?” 

“Then it won’t be your fault,” Dick says gently. 

“One of us should be there every day of that trial,” Jason argues. 

“Maybe. But it shouldn’t be you.” 

“The hell it shouldn’t!” 

“Jay,” Dick says firmly, but worriedly. “Look, with what he did to Babs...I have a good excuse to be at the trial every day. I’ll go. I promise. But you need to stay home.” 

“You don’t get to-” 

“Jay.” 

Jason goes silent, and Dick can hear deep, heavy breaths. 

“I’ll be there every day,” he says. “I promise you, Little Wing. I’ll go every day. Whatever happens, I’ll be there to help stop it.” 

***** 

“You’ve reached the office of Jason Todd, Wayne Technologies Liaison to the White House. I will be out of the office until the end of the month. You can reach my fill-in, Luke Fox at the following number…” 

***** 

“He took the entire month off?” Leo asks, staring at Luke Fox, utterly bewildered. 

“He did,” Luke nods. 

“To do what?” Leo snaps. 

“Not go crazy,” Luke says simply. “This Joker thing has him fifty shades of fucked up, Leo.” 

“The DoD hate you more than they hate him,” Leo points out, relaxing a little. 

Luke chuckles and shrugs. “I know it freaks those old farts  out to have to deal with a black man who is younger, smarter and more attractive. That’s what makes it fun for me.” 

Leo sighs but grins wryly. “It’s gonna be a helluva month.” 

“Oh it definitely is,” Luke smirks back. “You want lunch? My treat?” 

"It’s hard to say no to that.” 

[francoiserenaldt]

the emancipation of dizzy

desirée ashton is tired of being tired and the pills don’t hit like they used to. happy @it-lives-week. 

word count: around 3k warnings: some ableist language, cruelty, destructive coping mechanisms, lots of parentheses in here, negative thoughts, references to depression, strong language, there are sweet moments but a lot happens before then

“No.”

The word leaves her in a shout, crippling her as the nicks and scratches that litter her aching body give way to immeasurable pain.

But it’s not the wounds that hurt her most.

“No, no, no, no, no…”

She vaguely hears it behind her as she holds her brother in her arms for the last time.

Or so she thinks.

None of this makes any sense, she thinks.

Nothing she sees is real. None of this is real.

(Not when she puts Devon’s arm around her neck and drags him out of the cave to a stretcher, not when Noah tells them how unbelievably sorry he is for everything, and especially not when his body is found covered in blood 3 hours later.)

That night was a mistake; a terrible, terrible dream. Devon will be in his room when she inevitably has to go wake him up and Andy’s leg is fine and N–

No.

She refuses to think of him.

He fucked off and gave himself to the Power that night, effectively ending his life. She knows she should be thankful; after all, she knows herself enough to know that he wouldn’t stand a chance if he stayed in town after what he’d done. But the thought that he’d never truly get what had been coming to him, the thought that he’d gotten away with it, infuriated her.

Maybe he wouldn’t get what was coming to him, but it’s not too late to get the revenge she’d been itching for.

Jocelyn had been reduced to a sad sack of bones after she lost vision in her right eye and function in both legs and Cody–

There was no need to rehash that; he wouldn’t be a problem.

Unfortunately, Britney is still around; even more so now that Lily gave her another chance. She’s been making her idea of an effort, forcing a Joker-esque smile on her face any time Lily drags her over to the group and gritting out a compliment when she sees Ava’s new piercing or Stacy’s new shoes for the past two weeks.

It’s not enough.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings if you just went back to ignoring or insulting us like you usually do,” Desirée smirks, shutting her locker. “It’s obvious you don’t want to be here.”

And we don’t want you here goes unsaid for Lily’s sake.

“Yeah, Britney,” Stacy chimes in. “Don’t hold back on our accounts.”

“Guys, please,” Lily pleads, glancing between the girls. “Can’t we just be civil for once?”

“Sure, I’ll go first.” Ava huffs, pursing her lips. “When’s the last time you put someone in a garbage bin?”

“I’ve never done that, you–” Britney pauses, taking a breath. “Ava.”

“Oh shit, you’re right. You had Jocelyn and Cody do it for you. How is Jocelyn, by the way?”

“You can’t even be nice for two minutes, can you?” Lily scoffs. “Unbelievable.”

Once Lily stomps out of sight, Britney rolls her eyes and whirls on the remaining girls. “The only reason I’m even letting myself be seen with you losers is for Lily’s sake, alright? So you need to get over whatever little beef you have with me.”

“Little beef?” Desirée spits, glaring venomously. “You’ve tormented Lily, Devon, and Ava for years.”

“And you blackmailed Stacy, which is a felony, by the way,” Ava adds, crossing her arms. “You’re lucky the Green’s haven’t sued your bitch ass.”

“You have no idea how extremely lucky you are that I care about Lily–”

“No, you’re lucky we care about Lily. It’s the only thing that’s keeping you from getting jumped.” Stacy snaps.

“Since you care about her so much, you should probably try showing a little restraint.”

“The fact that I’m not wearing you like a shoe right now is me showing restraint.” Desirée retorts before smiling innocently. “But if you really want me to drop the act, that can be arranged.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” Desirée quips, crossing her arms. “No, seriously. Leave.”

With yet another eye roll, she finally struts away.

“While I don’t disagree with you—like in any shape or form—saying what you said, you kinda threatened her. In public.” 

“Yeah, it would be a really bad look if you hit her, Dizzy.”

“Well, I didn’t, okay?” Desirée snaps, grabbing the last of her things. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

She stomps off without another word, just missing the concerned looks Ava and Stacy send her way as she goes.

“Desirée, wait up!”

Devon jogs up to her. Or tries to, anyway. She never stopped walking.

“Hey, do you mind chilling the fuck out?” Devon admonishes, stepping in front of her. “Lily is really upset.”

“I do, actually.” She sneers. “She’s always around, making these snide fucking remarks, and I wanted her out of my face.”

“And you think being a dick to her is the answer? ‘Cause it’s not.”

“Then what is the answer, Devon? Aren’t you tired of letting yourself get pummeled day in and day out by Britney’s goon squad for all for Lily to go running back to her in the end?” She growls. “Aren’t you tired of being everyone’s little bitch?”

His eyes harden just as hers soften. “Fuck you.”

“I didn’t mean that–”

“Yes, you did. You’re just the only one who’s enough of an asshole to say it to my face.” Devon turns to walk away. “You’re acting just like her, you know.”

“Don’t pull that shit on me, Devon. I’m not doing anything that she doesn’t deserve.”

He bites back a reply before sighing. “Getting revenge isn’t going to make you happy.”

“Our lives are permanently fucked, Devon. Nothing is going to make me happy.” She forces a smile onto her lips. “At least this way I get something out of this nightmare.”

“How long do you think that’s going to last?”

“Until she’s gone.”

Doing away with Britney is the easy part; the bitch is entirely too sloppy with her misdeeds and Stacy knows her pass code like the back of her hand. A mass text from an unknown number full of screenshots does her in and the family moves to the next town over within the month.

(She could always count on Stacy to have her back, especially when it came to Britney.)

Seeing the tears in Lily’s eyes and the disappointment in Lucas and Devon’s faces as Desirée watches Britney walk out of Westchester High for the last time makes it infinitely harder to keep the smirk on her face.

Hard, but not impossible.

(The high inevitably wears off and her friends won’t stop looking at her like she’s some kind of monster, but Britney is gone and that’s all that matters.)

(Until it isn’t.)

Two weeks pass before Lily speaks to her again.

“Do you regret it?” She whispers.

“I regret hurting you,” Desirée whispers back. It’s the closest thing to an apology she can muster.

It’s not enough.

“I wish you were sorry.” Lily loses the whisper then and there, glaring.

“I wish you understood where I was coming from.”

“Why aren’t you sorry?”

“Because I hate her, Lily.” Desirée snaps. She’s had to say this too many times. “And she treats you and Devon like complete and utter shit and I’m tired of you sitting back and letting her do it.”

“So you made her leave.”

“So I made her leave.”

Lily scoffs and turns away.

“I did it for you, Lily,” Desirée whispers. “Everything that I’ve done has been for you.”

“You have no idea how much I want to believe that.”

Devon returns and the conversation is over as quickly as it began.

No.

She feels the word creep up her spine and lodge itself into her throat before she hears it fall into a loop in her head, spiraling quickly out of control.

(She’s lost control again. What a surprise.)

She shakes the empty pill bottle until it flies from her shaking hand to her bed.

Her phone is in her hand within seconds and her fingers fly across the screen. Her vision blurs with unshed frustrated tears but she taps away relentlessly—desperately—until the solution she needs pops up and she can finally stop acting like her life is falling apart.

“Hello?”

Shit.

“Hey,” she replies, trying desperately not to sound like she’s on the verge of tears and failing miserably.

(All she seems to do is fail these days.)

“What happened, Desirée? Are you okay?”

The concern in his voice breaks her resolve and she lets a few tears fall, sniffling.

“Okay. Stupid question.” He shuffles around, then curses. Even in her chaos, she finds it in her to wince. “What can I do to help?”

“I don’t know if you can. Help me. I don’t know why I called you.” She murmurs, running a hand over her face. “I don’t know about much of anything anymore.”

“There has to be something I can do,” Andy mutters quietly, probably to himself. “Hey, what if I stayed on the phone with you? Just until you can sleep.”

The painful—and frankly embarrassing—reminder that it is two in the morning is more than enough to calm her hysterics. “Oh, um…that would be great. And extremely nice of you, which I’m not sure I deserve considering–”

“Nope. None of that.”

“Okay,” she sighs, effectively ridding herself of her wobbly voice. “I gratefully and humbly accept your help, your Majesty.”

His laugh is probably—no, definitely—the best sound in the world and for the half hour it takes for her to find peace, she gets to hear it over and over again. The magic of him dissipates the anxiety that had lodged itself into her chest and for a moment—and not a second longer—she seems to float.

Then she wakes up.

Her phone is dead, naturally, so she goes up to the corner store. Common sense tells her that Devon won’t let her walk to the store without insisting on getting Lucas to drive them.

You know he means well. Why aren’t you letting him help you?

“No.” She smiles at the cashier manning the register. “Thank you, though.”

She learns that faking a smile becomes easy once you spend enough time doing it. Enough time has passed that no one questions it and those who can see through it don’t have the heart to draw attention to you.

The silence is almost peaceful.

You’re not letting him help you because you know you don’t deserve it.

(Until it isn’t.)

Her earlier turbulent and destructive thoughts were good for one thing; they distracted from the whispers and stares that followed her every move. She doesn’t bother listening to what they’re saying at this point—it can’t be anything the mayor or her parents or Cid haven’t told her—but they come from everyone; even the teachers mutter when she lingers too long on a test question or takes a little longer to answer a question.

(“It’s not like her to take so long.”)

The comments should make her angry. They should make her want to cover up her abnormal habits or threaten to have their jobs if they don’t mind their own fucking business.

But there’s nothing. Nothing they say matters. Nothing anyone says or does matters.

She eventually stops speaking to people. Anything urgent will be said to her directly and repeatedly, like a newborn puppy that’s just learning commands.

(“Please call Mom and Dad, Dizzy. They’re worried about you.”)

(“Please talk to me, Rée. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”)

(“Desirée, please pick up the phone.”)

For people who’ve known her all their lives, they’re terrible at taking hints.

Her own brother has given up on getting her to have dinner with him consistently; he just goes to Lucas’s house when he wants company.

Lucas, of all people, has become more approachable than her.

Why would Devon want to spend time with you? Why would anyone after the way you acted?

Her mind—for its many, many faults—is the only thing that hasn’t left her. It buzzes about incessantly, asking questions it has no answers to. This time, she doesn’t wait to answer them.

You told him that he was the world’s punching bag, that he was weak. At least he didn’t turn out anything like you. You have enough weaknesses to fill an encyclopedia.

Devon may be a little bitch, but he’s a little bitch with a boyfriend who hasn’t given up on him. Can you say the same?

No, the voice prattles on gleefully. Of course not. Andy’s already got pain in his legs; he doesn’t need a pain in the ass on top of that.

What’s the point?

Why bother picking up the phone? It’s not like anyone is calling her, or anyone would pick up the phone.

Why bother going downstairs for dinner? She’s just going to be eating it alone.

Why even bother leaving her room? No one wants to see her and, for once in her life, she doesn’t want to be seen.

So she’s content to stay right where she is. She can’t hurt anyone but herself here.

The universe, naturally, has other plans.

One day, Devon throws open her bedroom door. “Get dressed.”

“What the hell are you doing in my room? Get out!”

“Yeah, not happening. If you’re not done in 20 minutes, I’m dragging your ass out of bed myself.”

“As if you could pick me in the first place. Please fuck off.”

“Maybe not by myself. I’m sure Lucas and Dan would be happy to help, though.” He smirks as he turns away. As he goes, he sings, “20 minutes.”

Ughhhhhhh.

In her annoyance, she had failed to realize that all of her friends had been invited to the house.

He said that Lucas and Dan were here earlier, idiot.

“Hey, stranger,” Ava drawled when Desirée appeared at the banister. She was sprawled across a sofa by the coffee table, which she was promptly shoved off of once the words passed her lips.

“Seriously, Ava?” Stacy hisses before turning to face Desirée. “It’s good to see you again.”

It’s at this moment that she realizes that she dropped off the face of the Earth and stopped talking to her friends without an explanation.

You’re actually the worst friend ever. Why do they even bother with you?

“Hey, guys,” she says, looking at everyone. They all seem to be happy—relieved, probably—to see her, but something about the situation feels…off. “What’re you all doing here?”

“I thought we could have a game night,” Devon smiles (carefully? hesitantly?) at her as he gestures to the setup. He’s got just about every board game they’ve ever had on the table, from Candyland to Cards Against Humanity. “It’s been a long time since we’ve all done something together.”

All because you decided to be antisocial and moody.

“Right.” She swallows. “So what’s first?”

The afternoon passes easily. She’s far too wrapped up in the ecstasy of being around her best friends to think about anything other than kicking their asses in board games, let alone–

No. We’re having fun.

At least they were until Lily walked over to her after a particularly successful round of Cards Against Humanity.

(She doesn’t need to ask if they can talk in the kitchen, which just so happens to be tucked away from the living room where everyone sits.)

(Desirée doesn’t need to ask her if they’re speaking again now or if Lily plans on this being the last time they speak.)

Lily taps Desirée on the shoulder and they find the corner of the kitchen furthest from the living room.

“I forgive you,” Lily says once they’re alone.

“I’m not sorry,” Desirée warns. Lily can’t hate her any more than she already does; there’s no use being backward about how she feels.

“I don’t care.” Lily steps forward and before Desirée knows it, they’re hugging. “I’m not losing you over a girl.”

“Wait, wait…you’re not mad anymore?”

“I was being unfair,” Lily says, letting a hand come up to rub her bicep. “On a lot of fronts.”

In the spirit of not ruining her good mood by unpacking her behavior, Desirée opts for humor: “I was being a total bitch myself, so I’ll forgive you. Just this once.”

“Do I get another pass if you get first dibs on the unicorn plushie?”

“Maybe,” she smiles genuinely for once and tugs Lily back into a hug. “Now come back. I missed you.”

“Not as much as I missed you.” Lily replies, hugging her even tighter. “Now let’s go before someone tells Andy that he’s out a girlfriend.”

It’s easy to forget how good of a friend Lily is when she’s not simping over Britney.

Desirée slings an arm around Lily’s shoulders as they leave the kitchen. “You’re ridiculous, Lil.”

Devon raises an eyebrow when they walk back to the group. “Are we all good?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Lily grins.

Yeah, we are good. Until you fuck it up again.

Eventually they leave (everyone leaves) and Devon sits next to her once they finish cleaning up the games.

“This is the first time you’ve come out of your room in–”

“Three weeks, Devon. I know.” She sighs and walks over to the staircase. “I’m going to bed.”

“No, wait,” Devon rushes, grabbing her hand. “Just be still and shut up for a second. I need to say this.”

“Fine.” She walks back over to him, albeit a bit petulantly.

“Remember how I was when Noah,” he pauses carefully and continues when he doesn’t see her flinch, “first came back to school and he said all that stuff about how Jane was gone because I didn’t blow the whistle? And how I completely shut down? You told me that you’d never thought you’d see the day where I’d stop talking to you completely and I couldn’t make sense of it. I guess this is what it must’ve felt like.”

“You’ve been angry, you’ve been really fucking jumpy, and now you’ve completely shut me out for three weeks, Desiree. I haven’t been away from you for that long since, like, the womb. So I guess what I’m saying is,” he pauses again and sighs. “You’ve never given up on me, even when I was being a self-pitying asshole who would have deserved it. So you take all the time you need because I’m never, ever giving up on you.”

“Does this mean that you’re gonna drag me out of bed every day?”

“No, it means that I’m gonna to let you stay in this slump you’re in. That being said, I’m probably going to drag you to the dinner table. Eating alone sucks.”

“Eating alone has been rough,” she agrees.

“So you understand?”

“Yeah…yeah, I understand. I’ll try to be better.”

“That’s all I can ask from you.”

He steps closer and she puts a hand up. “Oh my God, do not hug me, you dork. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. And Devon,” Desiree frowns. “You wouldn’t have deserved to be given up on. No one does.”

He nods once and they head up the stairs together.

She finds herself back in her therapist’s office a month later, fielding the usual questions.

“Have you spent an entire day in your room this week?”

“No. I haven’t been back there in about a month now.”

Okay, it’s really been more like three and a half weeks, but semantics. It’s not like she’s the only one who lies to her therapist.

Dr. Chamberlain smiles gently. “That’s good.”

“It was hard, but I’ve learned not to hate him.” She clears her throat. “Noah, that is.”

“Could you forgive him one day?”

“Every day I look at the people I care about and I see how they’re still affected by the things he’s done. I don’t–” She pauses. “I don’t know if I could ever forgive him.”

“Every step in the right direction is a good step, Desirée.”

It’s far from the first time that her therapist has said those words and she knows it most certainly won’t be the last.

“Desirée?”

“Oh, sorry.” Desirée sits up. “What were you saying?”

“I was saying that it’s been a crazy few months for you, but you’ve come such a long way.”

“What if it’s not enough? I did a lot of things I can’t come back from, Dr.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Dr. Chamberlain glances at her watch and sighs. “We’re just about out of time.”

“Thank you so much. I’ll see you next week.”

“One more thing, Desirée?”

“Yes?”

“Give your friends more credit.”

Desirée nods as she closes the door.

Her phone rings.

“Desirée, thank God! Can you please tell this man that studying is a portmanteau of “student dying” for a reason?”

“I’m probably the worst person you could’ve called for this.”

Devon groans. “Ugh, I forgot how much of a nerd you were.”

She hears a throat clear itself on the other end.

“Right. Lucas wanted to know if you were down to form a study group for finals. I completely understand if you’d rather swallow nails one by one or whatever weirdly specific torture you’re into–”

“If I say yes, does that mean you’ll stop talking?”

“…for now.”

“Deal. I’ll be there in 20.”

She ends the call and sends him a text.

desirée: you don’t have to tell me that I’m the best, or that you’ll actually buy me food the next time you go out. I just know you’ll do it bc you love me so much.

devon: …i really don’t like you, you know that?

desirée: sure, and I know you’re lying your ass off <3 see you at home.

[buzzdixonwriter]

Super Duper Supermen

This will be a long one, so pour yourself a cuppa and settle down.   We may seem to meander, but we’ve got a destination.

. . .

I’m tired of superheroes.

I’m tired of a lot of genre fiction.

Part of the reason is that too much of the current material is ugly and loud, but the real reason is it isn’t fresh, it isn’t fun.

I tried watching The Boys.  I got to the end of the second scene of episode one and realize, “This ain’t for me” and turned it off and went over to YouTube and watched guys build model airplanes.

At least they look like they’re having fun.

. . .

Look, superheroes are a power fantasy and they’re okay for little kids who want to believe there’s always going to be a mommy or daddy who will protect them, but they’re an absurd genre at best and when you start taking them seriously -- and recently even the funny parodies and spoofs take themselves Too Damn Seriously -- they become horrific.

What prompted me to realize this is an article posted on The Vulcan by Abraham Riseman “The Boys Is the End of the Superhero As We Know It.”

Highly recommended, by the way.

. . .

It’s not like Riseman was the first to make this observation.

30+ years ago Gary Groth observed:

“Superman is one version of the hero with a thousand faces -- to employ the title of Joseph Cambell's excellent book on the subject -- and his appeal should therefore not surprise us.  But Superman is a crude version of the hero; if you will, an elementary one.  Unlike his more developed analogues in all the world's great religions, Superman does not offer love or goodwill, self-knowledge or contemplation as keys to man's salvation.  He offers his own physical powers.”

And he ain’t the only one.

Alan Moore recently chimed in:

“They have blighted cinema and also blighted culture to a degree. Several years ago I said I thought it was a really worrying sign, that hundreds of thousands of adults were queuing up to see characters that were created 50 years ago to entertain 12-year-old boys. That seemed to speak to some kind of longing to escape from the complexities of the modern world and go back to a nostalgic, remembered childhood. That seemed dangerous; it was infantilizing the population.

“This may be entirely coincidence, but in 2016 when the American people elected a National Socialist satsuma and the U.K. voted to leave the European Union, six of the top 12 highest-grossing films were superhero movies.  Not to say that one causes the other, but I think they’re both symptoms of the same thing — a denial of reality and an urge for simplistic and sensational solutions.”

. . .

I don’t like cruelty.

I used to enjoy old weird horror films back in the day -- movies like The Reanimator -- because I appreciated their absurdity and never took them seriously.

When the torture porn sub-genre came along, I lost interest in horror films.  

The Babadook is the only modern one I’ve seen in the last 5 years and I enjoy it because like earlier horror films (and here I include both classic Universal / RKO movies and the artistry of Mario Bava and Dario Argento) it’s essentially a very dark fairy tale, not an exercise in cruelty for the sake of cruelty.  

Violence doesn’t turn me off.

Sadism does.

And sadism is all about power and fascism is all about power, so when I remark on modern superhero and thriller and horror stories as being fascist, I know whereof I speak.

. . .

Superhero stories may not necessarily be tales told by idiots, but they are full of sound and fury, and signify nothing.

Ultimately superheroes fail because:

they can’t lose

they can’t win

There is no finality in the superhero genre.  The damn Joker keeps crawling back, Les Luthor constantly schemes, Dr. Doom and Galactus pop up whenever things lag in the sales department.

Superheroes as a genre are failures insofar as they can’t permanently deal with these existentialist threats, nor can they step out of the way to let others deal with them.

Superheroes promise salvation but deliver bupkis, slapping a band-aid on a cancer and telling us it’s all better.

They can’t permanently defeat their greatest threats, yet neither can they be truly harmed by them.

I’ll grant you the occasional Captain Mar-Vel but they are very minor exceptions to the rule.  Gwen Stacy was bumped off in The Amazing Spider-Man #121 in June 1973, first reappeared as a clone in May 1975 then several times thereafter, and most recently shows up as Spider-Gwen in Edge of Spider-Verse #2 (September 2014).  

As Roy Thomas aptly observed:  “In comics they’re only dead if you have a body and even then only maybe.” 

(In fairness, there’s no finality in most formula / genre fiction either, but we’ll get to that in a bit.)

. . . 

Before we delve deeper, let’s be clear as to what we’re discussing when we say “superheroes”.  

They don’t need to possess “powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men”.

As noted above, they just have to be:

always victorious

never in real danger

You can bash ‘em / trash ‘em / slash ‘em / smash ‘em and they still bounce back -- heroically -- to save the day.

Break both legs, riddle them with machine gun bullets, hit them with a car, cave in their skulls with sledgehammers, and yet somehow they summon up the super-human reserves needed to keep in the fight.

Mind you, in the real world there are people who display super-human endurance in horrific situations and not merely survive but go on to achieve incredible success.  They don’t do such things every year (as do heroes in movies), much less every month (comics) or every week (television). They sure as hell don’t make a career out of it.

Let’s veer away from brightly colored naked people flying & fighting to superheroes in a different genre than costumed crime fighters.

Mike Hammer is a superhero.

Sherlock Holmes is a superhero.

Philip Marlow might actually be a literary character.

Look at the criteria:  Can they lose?

Never in Hammer’s case.

Rarely for Holmes (and when he does, it’s always with bittersweet irony).

Frequently enough with Marlowe that one can’t anticipate if any of his stories will end with him victorious (yeah, he solves mysteries, but always at profound personal cost, and in more than one novel he ends up realizing he’s been a sucker all along).

Here’s another example that snaps the dichotomy into ever sharper relief:  

Samuel L. Jackson’s Shaft is a superhero.

Richard Roundtree’s Shaft is just a hero.

Roundtree’s Shaft is aware he can fail.

No “macho bullshit irony” as they say over at the Church of the Sub-Genius.

. . .

Superheroes don’t grow -- they decay.

They never truly use their power for good (because that would involve changing the world) nor do they adequately protect the innocent.

They serve no true function except to entertain and to be exploited.

Series novels and television shows can feature character growth, but the concept has to be baked in from the beginning (Jan Karon’s Mitford series and Armistead Maupin’s Tales Of The City books are two examples that spring immediately to mind).*

More typically, in series fiction the character/s show little actual growth; they are more or less the same at the end of their adventures as they were at the beginning, maybe a little greyer, maybe a little creakier, but essentially the same person.

Sometimes, particularly in military or nautical or police series, they may start out as a callow cadet but soon wise up to the stalwart hero we want to see.

As perfect an example of superhero decay can be found in the Die Hard movies.

The original’s superhero character, Detective John McClane, implausibly goes through a night of hell yet actually shows some character growth:  By the end of the film he’s able to swallow his pride and admit to his wife he was wrong.

A very farfetched movie but an emotionally satisfying one.  We’ll overlook a multitude of injuries that would have rendered him hors de combat in reality in exchange for the movie actually being about something.

All that gets chucked out in the first sequel, Die Hard 2, where the characters are thrown into a contrived situation to mirror the first film without the satisfying emotional growth but with far more ridiculous action;  Die Hard With A Vengeance jettisons McClane’s marital relationship except as an afterthought and ups the absurdity of the story (indeed, it’s best viewed as an action comedy); Live Free Or Die Hard totally trashes all the character growth before it; and A Good Day To Die Hard not only trashed previous character growth but went so badly over the top that it and the star’s aging out hopefully are the one-two punch needed to end the series once and for all.

. . . 

Look at non-superpowered / non-comic book superheroes and see how they fare.

D’Artagnan and the Three Musketeers are superheroes (conversely, Cyrano de Bergerac is not because the focus of his story is on who he is and not the what but the why of his actions; all the cool sword fighting is just bonus material).

Natty Bumpo is a superhero; anybody who can jump into a birchbark canoe from a tree branch 30 feet overhead without crashing through is a superhero because that character simple Can Not Lose.  

For that matter, most 1950s TV cowboys and virtually all Italian Western protagonists are superheroes.

Tarzan is a superhero. 

James Bond is a superhero (the SPECTRE / Blofeld arc in the novels and short stories actually do end up with him going through significant growth and personal change, ending with Smersh brainwashing him and sending him back to assassinate M…but then the British Secret Service intercepts him and a couple of paragraphs later he’s all better and off after The Man With The Golden Gun).

Modesty Blaise is a superhero.

Claire Starling is not a superhero, but Hannibal Lecter is (don’t give me that; even if you’re evil, when you’re the central character of a series of books / movies / TV shows you’re a damn superhero).

They’re all superheroes because they can’t lose and they can’t change their world and more importantly they can’t change themselves.

. . .

There is one exception to the above re superheroes, and that’s in the realm of sci- fi and fantasy stories.

Occasionally we find a character who becomes a king (viz Howard’s Kull) or a demi-god (viz Herbert’s Paul Atreides) and does alter their world for good or ill.

That, of course, is the ultimate power fantasy.

. . .

Fascism focuses on the Will and the Act.

It is a philosophy of movement.

It’s a philosophy that attracts the weak and the sadistic, because it promises protection from and power over others.

It’s a philosophy that actively seeks conflict, not necessarily overt violence, but the promise of same is always there.

. . . 

A brief sidebar to the other side of the comic book spinner rack.

Funny animals are essentially anti-authoritarian.

From Aesop forward to Carl Barks, their characters, filled with all too human foibles, can and do fail.

And when they win?

Ah, then it’s almost never by force or action, but by cleverness.

Funny animals are tricksters, accurately sussing out a situation and maneuvering to gain the best outcome for themselves without obtaining dominance over their opponent.

Bre’r Rabbit and Bugs Bunny.

Ducks Donald, Daffy, and Howard.

Superhero stories seems obsessed with keeping everything orderly and in continuity.

Without continuity, anything goes, and that’s fatal to the superhero trope as it annihilates authority.

Funny animal stories rarely feature continuity and when they do, it’s rarely rigorous.  If Porky Pig needs to be a businessman or a farmer or a studio executive or a traveling salesman, so be it.

He’ll be something else in the next story.

As tricksters, funny animals are bounded by one rule: They may save themselves and seek justice, but they will pay a penalty if they try to use trickery for selfish gain.

Howard the Duck -- “trapped alone and afraid / in a world he never made” -- is just trying to stay survive.

Daffy Duck -- greedy little miser that he is -- inevitably gets it in the neck when he tries to cheat someone.

Donald Duck -- floating somewhere between Howard and Daffy in his motivations -- finds no guarantee of success and reward, yet achieves success often enough to keep striving.  

He may battle mummies or a reluctant coke machine, his stories may take him around the world on an adventure or no further than his kitchen to fix dinner.

It doesn’t matter.

Who he is makes his stories compelling far more than what he does.

He’s not on a power trip.

He doesn’t feel he has to win every time.

And as a result, he has a much richer life than Bruce Wayne or Tony Stark.

. . . 

“So whaddya sayin’, Buzz?  ‘Superheroes is bad’?”

No.

I deny no one their pleasure.

But I also think there are times when we have to demand not just more of creators but of ourselves as an audience with the media we consume.

I only saw the first two scenes of the first episode of The Boys.

That was all it took to convince me not to watch it anymore.

For similar reasons, I have no desire to watch Mad Men or Breaking Bad or Better Call Saul or Game Of Thrones.  

I’ve picked up a strong enough vibe from each to know I’m not going to connect with them.

I’m certainly not saying you can’t enjoy them if you like.

Bu I am saying we’re cheating ourselves by not demanding more.

And until we start demanding more, the studios and streamers are only going to offer us less and less variety.

C’mon, people, we deserve more than that.

  © Buzz Dixon

  *  I’m sparing you a whole long analysis of The Mary Tyler Moore Show because frankly it goes too far afield of this essay’s central thesis and besides I can use it for another blog post in the future.

[maxdark158]

This is chapter two of my fic based on @ozmav ‘s Damian Wayne x Marinette Dupain-Cheng au that I LOVE, please check them out.

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

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

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

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

oooOOOooo

“Marinette, seriously?” The annoyed voice of Marinette’s once-best-friend Alya Cesaire was grating to her now. “You need to stop running away just for attention, it won’t work.”

It had been a long day for Marinette. It started off well, even after being forgotten by her class, because she got to hang out with Damian. But The Riddler kind of spoiled that. After her talk with the police, Damien waited with her for a teacher to pick her up from the station. They parted when her teacher arrived, Marinette promising to text him when she got to her hotel room.

The teacher that picked her up was Professor Mendeleiev. While the science teacher’s strictness had unnerved Marinette for years, lately she had begun wishing she was in her class instead of Ms. Bustier’s. Ms. Bustier’s tactics of being a better example for a bully were starting to wear on her. Professor Mendeleiev wasn’t perfect, but Marinette would have taken being in her class over being in Ms. Bustier’s now.

When the teacher asked why Marinette had been away from the group in the first place, Marinette told her that she had been forgotten by Ms. Bustier and her class. Professor Mendeleiev went silent after that.

The rest of the ride was silent too.

It was silent until Professor Mendeleiev dropped her off at her room where Alya was waiting to rip into her about being attention-seeking and rude.

“Hello?” she sounded angry now. “Are you even listening to me? Do you think if you ignore us we’ll believe you were ever nice again? Lila told us the truth about who you are, you-”

“Alya!” her teacher snapped. “Your classmate was caught in a villain attack today. Leave her alone.”

Alya gaped. “But”

“That was not a request,” Professor Mendeleiev growled. “Do you think you can escape my detentions because we are on vacation?”

Alya squeaked and ran off to her room.

Marinette blinked, not quite sure what just happened. Relief was the cool feeling applied to a headache, stopping the pain.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. Professor Mendeleiev nodded and stalked off, mumbling something about having a long overdue talk with ‘Caline’.

Alya must have gone back to her hotel room, as Marinette didn’t encounter her or anyone else on her way back to her room.

The relief hit again, but the hint of sadness was like mint in her mouth and wetness on her cheek, despite her not actually crying.

It was hard to remember that Alya used to be her best friend. It got harder every time Alya got after her for bullying or lying or anything else that she didn’t actually do. Marinette almost wishes they hadn’t ever become friends, the betrayal would have hurt less.

It seems some wounds take years to heal.

Marinette arrived at her room and unlocked the door with her room key. She entered and immediately flopped on her bed.

“Marinette, are you alright?” she heard Tikki ask.

“I’m just tired,” she mumbled. “I’m more used to akumatized villains, not insane people with riddle obsessions.”

She felt Tikki brush aside some of her hair. “I’m just glad you’re alright. You scared me for a moment, Marinette. I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you.”

Marinette smiled. “Thanks, Tikki.”

“It’s simply the truth! Also, didn’t you tell that boy you would text him?”

Her eyes widened. Marinette rolled over and got her phone out of her purse. “Thanks for reminding me!”

Tikki giggled out a, “no problem,” and rested on Marinette’s stomach.

Angel: I’m at the hotel now.

Damian: That’s good Damian: Did you get in trouble?

Marinette smiled to herself. It felt nice, being worried about… Even if she didn’t want him to worry. But the fact that he cared felt like a warm hug.

Angel: Professor Mendeleiev must’ve been tired or something. Angel: She didn’t leacture

She frowned. That had to be wrong.

Angel: Lecture?

Damian: *lecture

Marinette rolled her eyes. In the two days she had known Damian, she knew he was a stickler for grammar. Though he wasn’t harsh about his corrections, as he knew English wasn’t her first language, it was a tad annoying. Marinette was much better at speaking and reading in English than she was at spelling.

Angel: Quiet, English is hard

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

Angel: btw? Angel: Oh by the way

Damian: yeah

Angel: I’m good at text slang in French, okay

Damian: I don’t doubt you

She rolled her eyes and smiled. Annoying, but the banter was nice. It wasn’t like with Chat Noir when he was trying to flirt with her.

Angel: Anyway Alya tried to bother me but I’m good now Angel: Professor Mendeleiev told her off for bothering me after my ‘traumatic’ encounter with a Gotham villain

Damian: Speaking of, are you SURE you’re alright Angel

Ooh, capital letters. He must be really worried. Guilt rested on her shoulders again on that day.

Angel: I’m fine Angel: I’ve survived akuma for three years, I’m not about to let some riddle fanatic with terrible clothing choices ruin my day

Damian: His clothes are that bad?

Good, subject change. Maybe she can get him to stop worrying.

Angel: Too much green, for one Angel: Green shouldn’t be used in large portions when it’s that bright of a shade Angel: Also the cloth itself was cheap, but the kind of cheap meant to look expensive if you don’t know cloth good

Damian: *well

Marinette smiled. She hoped her little intentional mistake would make him stop worrying.

Angel: Whatever Angel: Also his hat didn’t match the type of suit he was wearing Angel: If he wants to go old fashioned he should at least match the time period Angel: Longer coat, more layers Angel: He is an atrocity

Damian: he is

Angel: If I had time to cry then my tears would had been blood

Damian: *have

“Seriously,” she grumbled to herself. The guilt had long since lifted but Damian’s need for correct grammar was going to drive her mad.

Angel: istg

Damian: It appears you’re learning

Angel: Yepp

Damian: Also the Gotham news posted an article online about you Damian: “Unnamed Teenager From France Holds off The Riddler Until Batman Arrives!”

Angel: Wait what? Angel: But we both held him off?

Damian: I was kind of useless, you did most of the work Damian: I left shortly after you solved his riddle because the Robins had arrived

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. She had been scrolling through the article Damian had mentioned, realizing that it did not have any mention of her throat punching The Riddler. It did say she took him down with physical force, but it was in self-defense and she was okay.

She just didn’t want Damian to find out she punched someone in the throat. It would make him think she was violent and he’d hate her forever and never talk to her again and she’d loose the only friend she’s made in the last three years and-

Her phone, which had fallen asleep, buzzed again.

Damian: You there?

Marinette sighed, mentally reining her anxieties in.

Angel: Yeah. I was just reading the article Angel: The Riddler was bad at hand to hand combat. It was easy to take him down with the practice I have from Paris

Damian: I bet. Damian: It’s getting late, Angel. We should go to bed. Damian: Goodnight

Angel: Goodnight Angel: Also I’ll find a chat name for you soon, promise

Damian: lol okay

Marinette smiled and put her phone away. Hopefully, she would get to spend more time with him tomorrow.

This was day three of their trip to Gotham. The entire trip lasted nine days. She wanted to make the most of her trip by spending time with her friend until she had to leave.

While the thought brought a brief sadness, she put it out of her mind and continued to get ready for bed.

oooOOOooo

Marinette managed to get up on time this morning.

Meaning, she woke up from a nightmare at around four am and couldn’t go back to sleep after that because she started fully sketching out some of her outfit ideas she had yesterday. She even made a few based off the Gotham heroes, coloring those ones in.

Despite all the designing she finished, Marinette was still the first one ready and in the lobby where the class is supposed to meet every morning.

Marinette was wearing her messier clothes today. After yesterday where she confronted The Riddler in leggings, she decided to stick to pants today too. She loved the dress she brought but it would not work if she managed to confront another villain.

Besides, the dress code was more lenient today. Marinette had on a white crop top with her signature flower pattern and dark gray overalls on. She had her hair in a French braid so it was out of her face. Her tennis shoes were the same pink as the flowers and as always, she had her purse for Tikki.

When the teachers came down to wait for the class, they saw Marinette there. Professor Mendeleiev gave her a nod, to which Marinette smiled. Ms. Bustier looked conflicted for a moment before ultimately deciding to sit down away from both her and Professor Mendeleiev.

The class began to filter in. Marinette made sure to stay out of sight from everyone but the teachers. They grouped together, talking about mindless things. Mostly about what they’d do with their afternoon. Today they were going to the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum in the morning, then after lunch the rest of the day was free until 5:30 pm.

Lila arrived last. Marinette knew that she likely did it so everyone noticed her entrance. She also realized that Lila arrived a few minutes before everyone had to get on the busses, so people had time to talk to and about her.

The designer simply tuned the liar out. She didn’t care anymore.

Well, she didn’t until she heard a certain name.

“Damian is such a sweetheart,” Marinette glanced up from her phone. “We might get back together again soon, I’m not sure though. I hope so.”

“I forgot that you’re on and off,” she heard someone else say, though who didn’t matter.

“Did you say Damian?” Marinette asked before she thought out the action. Her voice was loud enough that suddenly everyone was staring at her as if they forgot she was there in the first place.

They likely had.

“Uh, yeah,” Alya scoffed. “Lila and Damian Wayne are an on and off thing. You’d know that if you weren’t skipping the field trip for attention.”

“Alya, it’s alright,” Lila sighed. “We keep it out of the tabloids and Marinette doesn’t like me, it’s not her fault she didn’t know.”

“That sounds like it’s her fault! Marinette just needs to get over herself!”

Marinette was tuning her classmates out. She felt like an idiot. But at the same time, he never told her. He must have had a reason for telling her.

But there was no mistaking it. The Riddler called him, “Wayne.” They met when she was trying to get into Wayne Enterprises. His first name was Damian and he knew the tour guide…

She tuned back into her classmates’ conversation.

“Anyway, Damian and I went and got ice cream last afternoon. That’s why I was gone, you see. He would have walked me back, but we would have attracted a crowd. Plus he got a little chocolate ice cream on his shirt, he’s so messy.”

Marinette closed her eyes. Rage is hot and fiery, her nails dug into her palms.

Calling Lila out does nothing.

But she couldn’t help but remember Damian telling her that chocolate ice cream was among his least favorites when they went to get ice cream yesterday.

And he isn’t messy.

oooOOOooo

Marinette found the museum interesting. It gave her some anxiety, learning about everything villains did to the city was nerve-wracking.

She wondered if there would ever be a Paris Museum for Akuma.

It also gave her some ideas. Learning about the Gotham Hero’s greatest feats and how they accomplished them was eye-opening.

She was doing this whole battling-Hawkmoth-thing wrong! Instead of a case by case akuma battle, which are much less frequent nowadays, she should partner with the police! There were cameras all over Paris and, unlike Kwami, corrupted butterflies appeared on them. Hawkmoth may only be attacking around once a month now, but he still needed to own up to the terror he reigned on Paris and the world.

Marinette felt a little stupid for not realizing all of this before, she realized as she whispered her ideas to Tikki in the bathroom. She could have ended it sooner if she thought to get investigative about her enemy.

But as interesting and terrifying as the museum was, the trip only took the morning. By lunch, her classmates were waiting for the teachers to decide who to take where, as no restaurant had enough room for all of them.

She pulled out her phone and opened her text chat with Damian.

Angel: Kill me now

Damian: What’s wrong?

Angel: We have to all get lunch as a class before I’m free Angel: I’m in the group with Liar Rossi Angel: Death would be sweatier

Marinette mumbled a curse under her breath. She meant sweeter! Stupid autocorrect.

Damian: *sweeter

Angel: Rude

Damian: Anyway Damian: You can’t die yet Damian: We still technically didn’t get ice cream

She managed to smile. Damian made her do that a lot now that she thought about…

Her phone pinged again.

Damian: Also you’re at the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum right?

Angel: Yes I am

Damian: I’m nearby

Marinette’s eyes widened. What?

Damian: I can pick you up for lunch

Angel: OMG really? Please do I’d really really like that

Damian: omw

She looked up, seeing that her teachers were still discussing. She walked up to them, waiting until they saw her.

Ms. Bustier did first. “Marinette! What did you need?”

“My friend invited me to eat lunch with him,” she looked at Professor Mendeleiev as she spoke, not Ms. Bustier. “May I go?”

“After what happened yesterday? I don’t thi-” Ms. Bustier was cut off by Professor Mendeleiev.

“Is this the friend you were at the station with?” she asked, voice sharp. Marinette nodded.

Professor Mendeleiev hummed, contemplating. Ms. Bustier gaped at her. “You can’t be considering allowing her to go!” she said, “Not after how mad you got at me-”

“Caline, I got mad at you for forgetting her. Allowing her to go is not the same thing,” Professor Mendeleiev glared at her, “We’re allowing you to go on your own after lunch anyway, as long as everyone has a buddy. Finding you a buddy in this class, however, is likely going to be difficult…”

She trailed off before digging into her bag. “We got trackers for this free afternoon, though we couldn’t afford them for everyone,” she brought out a black bracelet that looked plastic. “This will only give me your general location. We will still have enough for everyone else as long as they’re in pairs. If you take one, I will allow you to go to lunch and such with your friend.”

Ms. Bustier’s brows furrowed. “You’re giving her special treatment? But-”

“Caline, you forgot her twice,” Professor Mendeleiev sounded patient, as if she were an adult talking to a toddler. “Marinette earned this and she will be with a friend from Gotham, something nobody else in this class truly has besides her.”

“This is my class,” Ms. Bustier was beginning to fume. “You accompanied because two teachers were needed, but these are my students-”

“Caline,” Professor Mendeleiev sounded more annoyed. “I am allowing her to go. Since I’ve been teaching for longer and because you told me to hand out the tracking bracelets, my decision overrules yours. Your argument is pointless.”

Marinette stared as Ms. Bustier tried to find words to retaliate with and failed. She took the bracelet from Professor Mendeleiev and thanked her.

It felt nice to have someone stand up for her again.

In the corner of her eye, Marinette noticed Alya walk toward the teachers and her. She looked angry and upset, a face she nowadays wore often around Marinette.

She remembered what she thought last night, about Alya’s betrayal. How it hurt remembering the good times they shared. Marinette took a deep breath.

It still hurt. It still hurt remembering the good times they had as friends, but she had to be fair to herself. She had to remember the bad times too.

She had to remember the times Alya demanded every detail, said friends tell each other everything. She had to remember the times Alya pressured her into things she wasn’t comfortable doing. She had to remember the times Alya took her for granted, the time Alya decided she wasn’t worth as much as a liar.

She has to remember what Alya is doing to her now.

“Where is the liar going now?” Alya scoffed. “Getting permission to run away this time?”

Marinette rolled her eyes and slipped the bracelet on. She would be okay. Alya wasn’t her friend anymore, she had better ones to look out for her.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

Alya gaped.

Luckily for Marinette, Alya didn’t have time to think of a response. A car drove up, and Marinette saw Damian wave to her from the backseat. She smiled.

The door was unlocked, so she opened it and got in. She didn’t look back at her classmates faces as the driver, an aged man in a suit, drove away.

“Where would you like to eat, Angel?” Damian asked.

Marinette shrugged. “I’m not sure, I don’t know what’s here.”

Damian frowned. “Angel, you okay?”

That’s when her previous realization hit. He was Damian Wayne, son of Bruce Wayne. He was one of the celebrities Lila liked lying about the most. And he was her friend, currently best friend.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

Damian looked like he wanted to press the issue, but decided against it. He told his butler to take them to a restaurant she didn’t recognize the name of while she took deep breaths. She felt Tikki press gently against her hip, trying to reassure her.

Alya was a bad friend. Marinette wanted to be a better friend to Damian. He already made her so happy! Warm fuzzies and smiled and giggles were rare in the last few years, but she experienced them all with Damian. He kept a secret from her, likely for his own reasons, and she found out what it was behind his back.

Damian deserved better than that.

“I know,” she blurted out. “I know you’re Damian Wayne. I just want you to know that doesn’t change anything. You’re still my friend, and I don’t care who your dad is and who you are.”

Damian gaped at her for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m sorry you had to find out on your own. I should have told you-”

Marinette interrupted, “you didn’t have to. You don’t owe me that.”

He looked confused. She chose to elaborate.

“As a stranger or even a friend, you don’t owe me any details about who you are. Ever,” Marinette told him. “You’re allowed to keep secrets and not tell me things you aren’t comfortable sharing. It isn’t fair of me to demand you tell me everything.”

She was going to be the friend she needed to Damian. It was the least he deserved.

Marinette pushed down any disappointment that came with the word friend, not knowing why it was there. Maybe it was left over from her classmates’ treatment of her.

Damian was staring at her. She wasn’t sure what his expression meant, but it looked… Awed?

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I… nobody’s ever said secrets are okay…”

Marinette shrugged. “I can’t help if I feel left out, but forcing you to tell me everything isn’t how friendship is supposed to work. If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.”

Damian’s smile was small, but it made Marinette feel warm. Was he the sun?

“Perhaps instead of a restaurant, I can take you both to the mansion for your lunch?” the driver said, his accent different from Marinette’s.

“You sure Alfred?” Damian asked.

She saw his nervousness. “You don’t have to if you aren’t comforta-”

“No, it’s not that,” he assured. “My brothers can be… rambunctious.”

Oh. Marinette smiled. “I can handle them if that’s the only reason you’re nervous.”

Damian thought for a moment before sighing. “Alfred, please talk us to the mansion.”

“My pleasure, Master Damian.”

[unordinary-analysis]

EPISODE 157

I know I said I would be right back, but I literally forgot about this the second I typed that and then i literally got so exhausted I couldn’t concentrate on anything so sorry for literally wasting a bunch of time, but here it is lol

This isn’t proofread either bc its three in the morning and im pretty tired of reading words

Honorable mentions:

I really want to see Remi with her hair down. Like, without the bow, strands of hair in her face kind of down…

Every once in a while I have to say this somewhere: I need Claire to be returned to UnOrdinary, thank you, it’s been a while since I said that, i had to again

Not really gonna metion John worrying about Seraphina because that’s to be expected plus he doesn’t really know anything about why she was acting weird to it doesn’t matter

I think I’m going to go through all four of the characters in this chapter and talk about each of their stances because that’s the only thing i can think to do

Arlo:

God, it seems like I say this anytime the other royals questions his decisions. Arlo is the best leader that I’ve seen in UnOrdinary. His ability to see the bigger picture most of the time paired with his ability to command others and have them listen: he’s unique in this sense from all of the others characters in UnOrdinary.

And that’s why it infuriates me so much when the others question him, god. I’ve said this shit too many times, that I don’t want to repeat myself, but if you search up #episode 152, and maybe one other that I can’t seem to find, on my page, I rant about this there. Arlo is just the best leader ever and I want everyone to know that.

Anyway, so Arlo comes in all sulky and stuff. Sulky is far from the right word, but I can’t think at the moment i guess so yeah. Anyway, this is understandable. All Arlo’s been saying for forever is that everyone just needs to leave John alone. At one point in time, he was the only person who really knew about John that was of consequence (Meili and Ventus don’t really count. I wonder where they are right now lmao). He knew from, when was that, around episode 80? Anyway, ever since the other royals have become involved with Tuesday, Arlo always warns them against it. You would think that one of them would have listened to him, but I don’t think anyone did. Not even when they knew that Arlo had already fought him, that he knew so much about him. Still, nobody heeded Arlo’s advice, which he was only giving because he didn’t want to see any of them hurt. But the royals, especially Remi, ignored all of his warnings and now they’re in the hospital, so, yeah, it’s understandable that Arlo is kind of grouchy when he comes in. He doesn’t lash out though, because he’s a great leader and knows that will accomplish nothing except for lowering morale (i will NOT stop saying this lol).

Everything I said here is basically pointed out by Remi. Which is great. I appreciate that she doesn't look past her mistakes in an attempt to hide from her emotions like she did when she was fighting EMBER. Remi tends to ignore her own emotions by acting and while I get it, at the same time, it’s wildly irresponsible.

Anyway, back to Arlo because this is his section: his advice for what to do about John is that should just let him be, which the advice he gives every time that Remi has asked that smh, but at least she doesn’t really argue with this. She does try to shut that idea down though… but ill talk about that in Remi’s section. There’s too much of her in this one. I don’t like it. Anyway, back to what Arlo was thinking. Arlo, as always, has the right idea. He knows that there is literally no other choice other than to sit back and watch things happen because a. John is the rightful king and can do whatever he wants and it is not against the rules because b. John publicity defeated every single royal in combat. Some at the same time. It really isn’t an option for the former royals to try to fight back against him again because for gods sake, have of them are in the hospital…

Anyway, there’s not actually that much for me to say about Arlo in this one other than the fact that his leadership goes under appreciated and they always regret not listening to him.

Blyke:

Blyke is in sad boi hours right now. He hasn’t spoken a lot when Arlo and Isen arrive, but he’s probably lost in thought. Not good thoughts, bad thoughts. Blyke… he has really just lived out one of his worst nightmares, he’s given in to one of his biggest insecurities. Blyke failed by a.) not recognizing John as Tuesday even though they share the same down and b.) losing so horrifically to Tuesday. We all know Blyke is worried if he’ll be a good enough king when the time comes and Arlo has to leave. This incident didn’t help that worry. Blyke even talks about it out loud. I’m actually really worried for Blyke. He’s been hit really hard recently and it’s like he’s falling down this pit of self-hate and anxiety. My man was even bringing up like EMBER, talking about how he ‘failed’ then too, even though he clearly was the hero in that situation. He says, “So much has happened… with all that EMBER stuff… and now John becoming Joker… We couldn’t handle any of it,” which is what I just explained, but then he continues and goes, “I was already having doubts about my capabilities… But this last fight really opened my eyes. I’m weak.” This is Blyke’s really insecurity. The root of all of his other anxiety is the feeling that he isn’t good enough, that he’s going to let everyone down.

Also, Blyke doesn’t have anywhere to really go because, yeah, he shares a dorm with John, but that’s not that big of a deal right now because he’s in the hospital and he’s got Isen to go to like he has before. Still pretty sad though. The constant reminder of his ‘failure.’ Tuesday was his roommate that he treated like trash this whole time and now anytime Blyke thinks of his home, he’ll remember that. :(. I’m sad. I really like Blyke actually.

Remi:

Okay so I’ve already talked about Remi a bit in Arlo’s section. I’ll try to elaborate on some of that (barely) because this is the proper section.

First of all, Remi apologizing. I was happy about this because, it’s been too many times that Remi or some other royal doesn’t listen to Arlo. It’ about time someone apologized. I’m mostly happy, however, because Remi is finally acknowledging that she knows how naive she generally is, which always used to get on my nerves. I’ve called her a bad queen for this, and I stand by that still, but now it’s nice to see Remi herself recognizing that, even if it’s a bit of a sad thing to see.

But then literally the next thing that comes out of her mouth is that they have to go and stop John and I literally facepalm, I’m so sorry I’m probably being really biased here by my opinions on Remi, but really. Not much more to say on this other than I agree with Arlo.

I do have something else to comments on briefly, though

After Blyke spills his problems, his worries, after he says that he is too weak to even take care of himself, Remi says nothing. She just… sits there. This is probably one of the only instances in this chapter of Remi’s growth, but maybe I’m being a bit too harsh on her, but seriously…? I was expecting her to step in soon after Blyke started talking. I was definitely expecting to see her talk after Blyke says, “-this last fight really opened up my eyes. I’m weak.” Remi has always been close to Blyke. She’s also always been so positive and reassuring to others. I’m not sure if the absence of this in this scene is distance from Blyke (lost in her own thoughts), or agreement with what he’s saying about them. I don’t know. I just,,, thought this was something I should point out. She really left Blyke like that. But honestly, with how she was acting before, though, I think she’s feeling really similar to Blyke, herself. Both of them have been pretty self-deprecating this episode.

Isen:

After saying hi, Isen literally says one thing the whole episode and it’s that Blyke can stay with him, so there’s not really anything there oof. Would’ve been pretty cool to see him interact with Remi more, but I always appreciate Isen whenever, so it’s no big deal.

———————————————————-

Gavin and Tuesday: (two completely different ideas here. First one is right below this and second one is further below)

Now we’re moving to that scene of Tuesday and Gavin and like..??? What the fuck was that

Is John just going to go after anyone who’s ever hurt him before now? I’m not going to lie, it doesn’t make sense. John literally spent such a long time without using his powers and never really came close to using them until Arlo interfered. If he is truly going after the people that hurt him in the past, that’s a very impulsive thing to do, and John’s control over his own power and the restraint he possesses makes me believe that he isn’t an impulsive person. Maybe at New Bostin, but he’s changed since then. I know know he’s being forced into a similar position to that he held at New Bostin, but after all this time, and the horrendous experience that John’s already lived through concerning his old school, I still believe that John would try to avoid the same thing happening here at all costs. Even when he snapped and went after all of the royals, he only did it to take down the hierarchy, which gave power to the powerful and took from the already weak. It just doesn’t make sense that John’s going after Gavin now, someone that’s only real connection that I believe we know of to John is that they fought in like episode two or something. Gavin is barely a mid-tier. If John really was trying to stay away from being the monster he used to be, I don’t think he would purposely hunt this one kid thats much weaker than him and literally barely interacted with him. It’s clear that John would win that fight, so what’s the point.

And obvious argument is that maybe, John is slowly turning back into the person he was at New Bostin. Maybe even after all of those readjustment classes and reflecting and repressing of his powers, John still can’t run from who he is, what he is. Maybe the monster that surfaced at New Bostin, maybe he can’t escape that.

And as much as I love that, which I admit, I would (do you know how interesting that would be?), I’m not sure if the evidence supports that..? I don’t know, it might, but the fact that all of (all of them right?) the times John has fought someone has either been as revenge for hurting Seraphina or because he was trying to take down the hierarchy, which I’ve already said doesn’t support John returning to the person he was. For all of his attacks, John has had something for each: a motive. This isn’t that special, though because John had motives even back when he was at New Bostin because literally that was the entire plot of that history lol. I don’t know. So basically, this fight with Gavin is very reminiscent of whenever Tuesday would fight those people that hurt Seraphina.The royals were the result of a feeling of injustice, but everything else stemmed from the motive of revenge. John has always used his revenge as an acceptable motive when deciding whether or not to act on something. Whether he realizes it or not, it’s the real connection between him and the old John. Their need for revenge ruined everything for them. John couldn’t handle when Claire betrayed him so he beat her up as a consequence. Hunting down Sera’s assaulters and absolutely demolishing her kidnappers show this too. And so does this scene. John is hunting down Gavin over revenge, and as long as John fuels his need for revenge, he’ll never be able to truly escape his past. So maybe the evidence does support John slowly regressing back into the person he was, despite his wishes. He’s changed so much since Now Bostin, but sadly, he hasn’t been able to shake his tendency to hold grudges until he literally cannot contain them any longer and he lashes out.

It was kind of weird how hesitant John acted at the end of this encounter, though, because he just let Gavin go, but I’ve decided to ignore this because the fact that the character this happens with is Gavin, I refuse to believe that this whole thing is insignificant (wrong word but words are hard.)

Second idea:

Okay so apparently the person appeared as Tuesday at the like middle of this episode, apparently there’s a chance that it wasn’t actually John. This has been brought to my attention in the comments of this post so this little bit has been added a day after I initially posted this.

The argument is that because the person presented as Tuesday in this week’s episode has yellower eyes than John does, it could be some person only pretending to be Tuesday, which is obviously a possibility because Tuesday has already been established as the most powerful student at Wellston, but nobody know who he is. So any random mid-tier or something could just put a mask on and use a bit of their powers to scare anyone off (anyone would be too scared to fight Tuesday) and they’ll basically control the school cus people would take the imposter for the king. Anyway, before I get more into this, here are the pictures comparing John’s Tuesday and this episode’s Tuesday:

It’s pretty clear that the eyes of these two characters are a different color, but not too different that it’s that noticeable, which is why I didn’t notice this at first until it was pointed put to me. I wonder if this was even intentional... I feel like, if uru-Chan even ever meant for people to notice that Tuesday looks different, she would’ve used a much more different color. Or maybe one of the people that help her with coloring forgot what color eyes Joker had because John when his powers aren’t being used: they’re yellow. So, I’m not even completely sure that this Tuesday in this episode isnt John.

But at the same time... there’s some things I can’t help considering that make me think it’s more and more likely that this is someone different. First of all, this is honestly something really big to miss. Uru-Chan is a professional... it’s hard to believe she could’ve let this slide when her work has always been so meticulous. Also: with the way things went down this episode... it was kind of suspicious. I already talked about it a bunch above in the first part of this section that I posted first. But I didn’t really touch on why Tuesday just let Gavin walk because... well, I’ll be honest, I didn’t really know what to make of it. I even said that I’d elected to ignore it because it confused me... But if the Tuesday from this episode really isn’t John, then it all makes sense again. Like I said earlier in this half of the section, someone impersonating Joker wouldn’t really have to fight anyone to benefit from his power because everyone knows that Joker could kick their ass anyway, so it’s pointless to pick a fight. If this episode’s joker had decided to pursue Gavin, it could’ve lead them to a fight they would’ve been unprepared for.

Obviously, there’s more to talk about for this theory, like what this could possibly mean for John, for Wellston, or who it could possibly be, but because I’ve already posted this as a separarte episode analysis, I would rather save that for either a separate post this week, or as part of the next episode’s analysis. Thanks for reading and sticking with me and thanks @sunshines-and-tatertots alerting me to this lol.

Cecile and John:

So, Cecile’s understandably pissed at John because he isn’t claiming his power and that’s literally the only reason she’s siding with him. Because she wants him to be the king. I makes sense that she’s upset that he’s literally doing nothing instead of becoming king which would be the natural thing to do.

John’s response is literally that she needs to calm down, and while I get that he doesn’t feel the need to shove himself into the spotlight especially considering how he wants to keep his secret from Sera, that’s just going to piss off Cecile more. Or at least is would if she wasn’t so terrified of John, which she obviously is. I think John is more than Cecile can handle, and she wasn’t excepting that. Hell, it probably takes a lot to get to that level...

This has me thinking though… what could this kind of turmoil cause…? I’m hoping that maybe (pretty pretty please), Cecile will try to leave John’s side and join Arlo and the other royals the money i would pay to see that ugh… that potential…

[popatochisssp]

Fur a Good Time, Call... 13/15

Series: Undertale, Horrortale Relationship(s): HT!Sans/Reader, HT!Papyrus & Reader, HT!Sans & HT!Papyrus Chapter Warnings: discussion of past suicidal ideation

You work at an animal shelter. You love all your fuzzy buddies and can’t imagine a better job for yourself than looking after cats and dogs all day, even when the work is hard and often gross. What can you say? You’ve got a lot of love to give!

You’re just not quite sure yet how you feel about the new monster who’s been helping out these days, and this riddle wrapped up in an enigma is something you just can’t resist investigating…

AO3 Link

Heart

It’s far from the last time you go to Grillby’s.

Now that Sans has broken the metaphorical ice, he seems intent on keeping his promise to Grillby to do better. The cozy little monster pub quickly becomes a regular spot for you, lunch breaks and date-nights alike.

You meet the occasional human here and there, friends or dates of the regulars or just people lucky enough to have stopped in and gotten hooked on the fire elemental’s stellar cooking…but mostly you get to know the monsters.

Audrey’s fascinated by human cuisine and takes cooking classes with Burr every Thursday night. Apparently, it’s their designated couple’s activity, and they’re such a subtle pair you never would’ve guessed they were together until they told you.

Some weird cat guy whose real name you can’t get out of anyone for the life of you—surely he can’t actually be named Burgerpants?—loves coming in and getting really high in the corner booth. You’re not about to judge, though: he’s always wearing a retail uniform when you see him and however tense and stressed out he is on his way in, BP’s always chill and smiling on his way out, so whatever works for him!

The dogs are a hoot and a half, especially when they find out that you work with dogs for a living. They only get more excited to learn that you and Sans actually have a dog at home, which leads to Buddy coming to visit Grillby’s one night and…

Well…it’s a good thing that you’re already used to loud barking from your time at the shelter. Your ears didn’t stop ringing for hours after that night.

Dino gushes about his son, Franco loudly negotiates gigs over his bluetooth, and Grillby…

Grillby doesn’t say much, actually, but his warm and glowing presence behind the bar is steady and reassuring.

You love it.

You love Grillby’s, and you love all the incredibly sweet and fascinating people you meet there, but most of all, you love what going so often is doing for Sans.

He’s…lighter these days, a little more unburdened. He smiles easier, jokes quicker, laughs louder, and it’s delightfully different.

……No.

On second thought…it’s not different at all.

He’s still Sans—your Sans, all the way down to his marrow—but just…more.

It’s Sans the way he is when it’s just you and Papyrus around, but more often, even at work where he’s usually so closed off and shy, and it feels like the coolest damn thing to get to see other people finally getting to know the sweet and funny guy you care so much about.

Your relationship with Sans takes a nice, easy slide into the comfortable; so comfortable, in fact, that you manage to give poor Papyrus another conniption about it.

“What Do You Mean, You Don’t Have Anything Planned?!”

Silently, you and Sans share a look and shrug.

You know that you, at least, feel an awful lot like a kid being scolded by the teacher for not handing in an assignment. It’s hard not to feel that way with Papyrus looming over you, hands on his hips and impatiently tapping his foot.

“I Am So Disappointed,” he tsks, completing the illusion. “You’re Just Going To Sit Around The House Like Lumps—”

That had been your plan.

“—On Your Own Six-Monthiversary???”

“i don’t think that’s a thing.”

“Of Course It’s A Thing, Sans!” Papyrus snaps. “Human, Tell Him It’s A Thing!”

“……I…guess?”

“There, You See? They Agree With Me! You’re Being A Terrible Datemate!”

Okay, you can’t let that go unchallenged.

“I don’t think that, baby,” you say to Sans, quietly but Papyrus hears you anyway.

“Don’t Tell Him That! He’ll Never Learn Without Consequences!”

You raise your eyebrows. “He would learn with consequences?” you ask incredulously.

“………Stop Making Valid Points!” Papyrus demands in return.

“i feel so attacked right now,” Sans chimes in, but he’s laughing so you doubt his feelings are really hurt.

“Well, How Do You Think They Feel?! Look At Them!”

Sans looks at you and you smile up at him.

“yeah, cute as ever.”

“No! Heartbroken! Let Down! Devastated!”

You don’t really want to make Pap a liar… You frown, just a little bit, utterly fake and disingenuous.

“Yes, Perfect, Like That!”

It’s a struggle not to ruin the expression by laughing.

“Sans, Your Poor Human Naïvely Hoped Against All Logic And Reason That You Might Do Something Special For Them On This Most Important And Momentous Of Days! That You Would Go Against Your Very Nature And Find One Tiny Romantic Bone In Your Body— ”

“ouch, ‘tiny’?”

“—And Sh………You Are Vulgar, Oh My God! For Once In Your Life Of Laziness And Terrible Puns, Be Serious—And Don’t You Dare Say You Can’t Be ‘Serious’ If You’re ‘Sans,’ I Am All Too Aware That You Are Sans!”

You give up, you’re laughing.

Your boys are just too fucking funny, watching them argue is like watching the best improv sketch you’ve ever seen.

“Look, You’ve Made Them Hysterical!”

“oh no. i’m the worst.”

“No One Is Arguing That, And You Are So Lucky That I’m Here To Help You.”

You take a moment to try and get yourself together, deep breaths and not looking directly at either of these damn jokers.

“Oh, Good,” Papyrus grins at you. “You’re Coming Around To Acceptance! I Think You Skipped Over Anger And Bargaining Somewhere In There, But I Admire Your Efficiency!”

Pfft! “Thanks,” you eke out, just barely tamping down a giggle.

“Now, Then,” he says, very seriously, settling a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Sans Is Going To Make Up For His Grievous Oversight And Take You On A Lovely Six-Monthiversary Date.”

“i am? cool.” Sans slings an arm around you, gently pulling you out of his brother’s grip. “been dyin’ for some cheesy fries—”

“No!” Papyrus tugs you back, glaring at Sans. “No Grillby’s! It’s Bad Enough That That’s Your Usual, You Don’t Go To Your Usual For A Six-Monthiversary! It’s A Special Occasion!”

Sans frowns, but seems to take the proclamation in stride. “alright, so…what do ‘i’ have in mind?”

“That’s! ……” Papyrus squints down at you. “That Obviously Has To Be A Surprise.”

Without further ado, you’re nudged carefully yet forcefully to the stairs—shooed away like a too-curious cat from a museum.

“Wait, Pap, what—”

“Don’t Argue!” he chides, unmoved by your confusion. “Go Wait Upstairs For Awhile! Sans Will Get You When His Surprise Is Ready!”

You spare a last look at Sans, who seems only mildly amused by whatever is happening here. He gives you a little wave that makes you smile, and you willingly disappear up the steps.

Down below you, you can still hear a faint exchange, hissed whispers and murmuring, but you can’t make any of the words out, so you don’t bother to keep eavesdropping.

Besides, a romantic surprise sounds…kind of nice.

Whether it was actually Sans’ idea or not, a date with your funnybones was always something to look forward to.

-

You decide to go hang out in Sans’ room while you wait.

You suppose Papyrus’ room is also an option—you don’t think he’d necessarily mind you waiting there—but you feel a little more comfortable encroaching on your boyfriend’s space than on Papyrus’.

You hang out with him in there a lot, for naps and indoor tornado-watching and majorly nerdy (but interesting), casual geology lessons with his rock collection, so it seems like the best option for now.

The piney scent of air freshener tickles your nose when you walk in and you figure Sans must’ve cleaned sort of recently. He’s been pretty good about that lately, maybe especially because you’re in here more often, and it makes you happy that he has a mostly tidy area for himself.

You still remember how cluttered it used to be, and even with a stray sock or discarded t-shirt on the floor here and there, it’s a major improvement.

(You are…a big enough person to admit to some envy over it. Your own room could certainly do with some attention and you make a mental note to take care of that soon.)

Sans’ desk is, naturally, the most organized: it’s where all his rocks are, meticulously sorted and catalogued by means that are…probably very scientific and make perfect sense.

To you, it seems totally random, but you still like to look at all of Sans’ cool specimens and see how many of them you can remember.

Tiger’s eye is easy and so is jade. You remember that the purpley-green one carved into an obelisk is fluorite because Sans made a hilariously terrible pun about it one time that apparently burned it into your brain.

The smooth whitish one in the middle of the desk is harder. It’s iridescent, which you’d think would make it easy to identify, but apparently you were really bad at telling the difference between moonstone and opal.

Sans, being your oh-so-hilarious funnybones, loved to swap them out on you and snicker when you got it wrong, so you pretty much give up on that one entirely.

The polished purple ball is definitely amethyst…ooh, or is it charoite? It looks kind of squiggly and you can’t remember if amethyst is ever that squiggly…

You need more light.

You flick on the desk lamp and the rocks illuminate, sheens and glitter galore that make you feel like some sort of goblin with a primal urge to hoard the shiny, sparkly things before you.

The purple is charoite for sure, and you’re…roughly eighty percent certain that the other one is an opal today, too many colors in it to be moonstone.

But you’re also a little distracted by the weird glint the extra light is causing down by the floor, behind the desk.

You bend down to investigate and find a stray rock, wedged between the desk-leg and the wall. It’s the work of seconds to get it free and when you’ve got it…

Huh.

It’s a decently-sized black rock, dusty where it had been face-up and shiny where it wasn’t. It must have been stuck down there a good long while.

You take your shirt to it, carefully wiping it off and making sure to be mindful the places where it sharply curves into peaked edges, and soon it’s shiny all over, gleaming almost mirror-like from your hand.

You’d never been quizzed on this one before, but obsidian was one of the more recognizable types of rocks out there.

Volcanic glass, your brain helpfully adds and you feel a burst of excitement at knowing a rock fact Sans didn’t have to tell you.

You wonder if he’d be proud of you for that and shake your head, feeling silly for the thought.

Of course he’d be proud of you, and then he’d probably immediately find a way to make a pun out of it. You weren’t sure how, ‘obsidian’ didn’t seem like a very punnable word, but if anyone could find a way, it would be Sans.

You smile and go to set the rock back on his desk where it belonged, but pretty quickly realize there’s a roadblock.

You don’t actually know where on the desk it belongs. There’s clearly some sort of system but you have no clue what it is.

Messing up one of the few things Sans has bothered to organize, even in a tiny way, feels…kinda rude…

You elect to hold onto it until Sans comes to get you.

Since you have no idea what the surprise is and what the wait time on it is, you also plop yourself onto the bed and get comfy.

No sense standing around forever for no reason, right?

You intend to take out your phone and start playing games to pass the time, but you end up playing with the little obsidian chunk in your hands instead. It’s enticingly smooth beneath your fingers, cool but rapidly warming to the heat of your body as you keep stroking your thumb over its surface without rhyme or reason.

Its edges are a little sharp and kind of jagged, but they’re pretty easy to avoid once you properly map them out and besides that, you like the way they look. It…it’s got character, like a lot of your favorite things in this life.

A lot of your favorite people.

You start to wonder if Sans would miss this particular little rock if you just went ahead and kept it, like that shiny-hoarding goblin you felt like a few minutes ago.

…Nah, that would be pretty uncool of you.

You’ll give it back when—

“hey, babe, y’ready for, heheheh, ‘my’ surprise?”

You sit up, grinning and chuckling a little yourself to see Sans holding a blanket and a picnic basket, of all things. “Oh boy, am I ever! Papyrus…does know it’s nighttime, right?”

“………”

You follow Sans’ gaze when he doesn’t answer you right away. He’s looking at the obsidian in your hands and you scoff.

“Oh, right, I, uh…I found this! I wasn’t sure where it was supposed to go, so I—”

“where?”

“What?”

“where…was that?” The tightness in Sans’ voice makes you frown. You’re suddenly extra glad you didn’t just steal it because it seems…important, somehow?

You can’t read it all, but there’s a lot of emotion on his skull right now, more than there should be for just some average, run of the mill rock.

You wonder what the story is, but ultimately, you don’t need to know.

“It was behind your desk. It must’ve fallen off or something,” you say. You hold it out to him, smiling gently. “Here, you can put it…wherever it’s supposed to be!”

Sans reaches for it. He’s unusually slow in taking it from you, his bony fingers just…hovering over your open palm for a long moment.

You look up at him in surprise when instead, he closes his hand around yours, the obsidian still inside.

“keep it,” he says.

“What…seriously?” Your eyebrows knit in something approaching concern. “But…”

“but nothin’. ya’ like it, don’tcha?”

Damn him and his ability to read you like a book sometimes. “Well…yeah, but…”

You weren’t sure how, but…it was an important rock to him, right? It had to be! Some…some sort of memento or…stars, maybe a family heirloom or something!

“i want you to have it,” Sans says simply.

His tone is surprisingly firm. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him speak so matter-of-factly, so you know he means it, but still…

“It’s…it’s not important…?”

“nah.” That feels like a lie, but he immediately follows it with, “it was supposed to be away, i must’ve missed it in the great rock purge of 20XX. doesn’t belong on the desk, anyway, you’d be doin’ me a favor if ya’ just took it. really.”

“……You just don’t want to dig out the shoeboxes for it,” you accuse.

Sans laughs, deeply amused…and maybe just a little bit relieved.

“ya’ got me,” he admits. “s’a lotta work for one little stone and, uh, between you an’ me…i didn’t really get’cha anything for our six-monthiversary.”

You give him an exaggerated gasp of shock. “No!”

“i know, i know” he sighs, just as dramatically. “m’a cad. a scoundrel. a ne’er-do-well…whatever that is.”

“Harsh, but fair.” Sans releases your hand and you look at the…your obsidian. “Well…I’m honored by your thoughtless, last minute gift of rock.” You grin at him a little slyly. “Great minds think alike?”

Sans grins back. “you know it,” he says, and out comes the convenience store paperweight from his pocket, the one you’d bought him all those months ago back before you’d even been dating. “take it with me everywhere.”

You know he does and that makes you feel stupidly warm and gooey.

“I guess I can return the favor, now,” you say, slipping the obsidian into a pocket of your own. “Couples’ pocket-rocks: we’re gonna start a new trend.”

“heheheheheheh, trendsetters, that’s us.” Sans leans down to nuzzle the top of your head, gentle and sweet as always. “just be careful with it, yeah? s’a little sharp—you’re squishy.”

“I choose to take that as a compliment.”

“good, ‘cause it is one.” You get another gentle bump of teeth against your forehead and Sans pulls you to your feet. “c’mon, let’s go, i’ll tell ya’ all about your present on the way.”

Sans surprises you by actually walking all the way downstairs with you instead of just shortcutting you wherever it was you were going.

True to his word, he gives you a whole miniature lecture in the course of the trip about the care and keeping of your new obsidian—you learn that you can wash it with warm water and gentle soap, but not to use anything abrasive on it because that could damage the polished sheen.

You cut in when he starts to say it’s formed from molten rock to tell him that you know it’s volcanic glass, and just as you thought, he looks both surprised and proud of you for already knowing a rock thing.

He also says your observation was ‘ingenious’ but his inflection makes it sound an awful lot like the word ‘igneous,’ so you were right on both counts.

You sure know your big dork of a skeleton.

You notice the conspicuous lack of Papyrus and Buddy as you walk to your destination and figure Pap probably made the both of them scarce to give you and Sans a little privacy for your apparently very important milestone date and the consideration is appreciated.

So is the big, fluffy blanket that Sans slings around your shoulders as soon as you step out into the moderately chilly backyard.

Winter is on its slow way out still, but by now all the snow is melted and the air is what you’d describe as brisk instead of outright cold. With the blanket, it’s more than bearable, which is probably a good thing.

With the picnic basket and the telescope set up in the middle of the yard, you think you’re probably going to be out here awhile.

“Stargazing?” you ask, unable to disguise the excitement in your voice.

“heheheh, stargazing,” Sans agrees. He waggles the picnic basket enticingly. “plus snacks. Pap snuck a couple thermoses in there, could be soup, could be tea…”

“Could be cocoa.”

“endless possibilities.” The red of Sans’ eye-light looks pleasantly soft and warm beneath the cold, white moonlight and you find yourself instinctively leaning in. “happy six-monthiversary, babe.”

You kiss him. You don’t think there’s anything else you can do.

-

It takes…longer than you’re willing to admit to get to the actual date part of your date.

It’s hardly your fault that Sans’ nuzzling is addictive, or that his big hands stroking your back and shoulders through the blanket is something you never want to pull away from.

Eventually, though, you pick at the snacks while Sans fusses with the telescope a little, telling you how to use it while he picks a good spot in the mostly cloudless night to settle it on.

You’re surprised that Papyrus just had something like this lying around, and Sans surprises you even further by admitting it’s his—the same one he once told you he rented out Underground.

“could only look at a ceiling back then,” he says, distractedly. “view’s way better up here. c’mon, take a look.”

You get up and wander over to the telescope, hesitating a second because the last thing you want to do is damage one of Sans’ older possessions.

“don’t worry, i wiped the paint off the eye-piece,” Sans promises. “Pap made me, you’re safe.”

You laugh. “God, of course you pranked people with it, I should’ve known…”

Still, you trustingly look through the telescope, hoping Papyrus really did have your back on this one.

You forget all about it when you see the stars, closer and brighter than you’ve seen them in a long time—maybe ever.

“Wow…”

Sans comes up behind you, helping you adjust and move the telescope around here and there to different corners of the heavens. It really is a view that’s just…

“beautiful…”

You pull away, tilting your head back to find Sans observing the sky with just his own eye-sockets.

The dreamy awe on his skull makes you feel even cozier than your blanket and you gently nudge him in the ribs. “You want a turn on your own telescope, or…?”

Sans doesn’t even look at you as he says, “nah, m’good. this is plenty for now.”

You huff out a little laugh, leaning back against Sans and just looking up with him. “You really love the sky, huh?”

“understatement,” he murmurs. “it’s wild that ya’ just…have this, all the time.”

You can’t imagine what living your entire life in a cave must’ve been like. You don’t care to, it can’t have been good, even before it got a million times worse with the famine and everything attached to it.

“What’s your favorite kind of sky?” you ask him, curious.

“what, ever?” You make a noise of agreement and Sans pauses to consider it. “sunrise, probably. all the colors…an’ the sun, that was a hell of a thing, that first time…”

Sounds right. You’d seen some truly incredible sunrises in your time on this planet and even when you took them for granted, you still always thought they were pretty.

“even…even this, though,” Sans says. “even when it’s night an’ the sun is gone, ya’ still get this. the moon, an’ clouds, an’…an’ stars, damn…there’s so many, i never…i never thought…”

He trails off and you let him. You can guess the ways he may have finished it and you don’t need him to say any of them.

Instead, you say, “There’s a million constellations, too. You know any? I can pretty much just point out the dippers, and that’s on a good day. Well, night.”

“heheheheh…funny you ask, i, uh…” he sounds a little shy as he admits, “i used to wanna learn about that stuff…constellations, y’know. …never got around to it.”

“How come?”

“……”

You can’t look up anymore when Sans settles his chin atop your head, hugging you closer to him.

“…never had much hope,” he says eventually. “lot of us did, i guess. even after the…the human.” He chuckles a little and it sounds tired. “Pap always believed…that we’d get up here one day, see the stars for real. but i…i dunno, it was harder for me to…to think that way. it didn’t seem like a thing that’d ever happen.”

“It did though,” you’re quick to remind him. “You’re here. You’re out.”

You get a grateful little squeeze for that. “yeah, i know. just…wasn’t always that way. didn’t see much point learnin’ stuff i was never gonna get to use.”

You reach up, idly petting at one of the arms Sans had wrapped around your midsection. The worn, blue fabric of his hoodie is much softer than the sturdy bones beneath it, but you find you love them both in equal measure.

“i, uh…actually, for awhile there…” Sans speaks haltingly, carefully weighing each of his words, and you keep quiet and let him. “when we…started collecting souls again…and seeing the surface seemed like it was actually gonna happen…i…i kinda hoped i…wouldn’t see it?”

“…What do you mean, baby?”

Sans takes a breath from behind you, holding it before letting it out in a whoosh.

“i…i used to hope i’d dust before we ever got up here.”

A bolt of fearful grief strikes through you, robbing you of speech.

Sans keeps talking, though.

“thought it’d be hunger,” he says, too casually for the subject matter. “always…i always felt it the most in between humans…hoped i would……an’ then i wouldn’t have to…to do it again. or maybe karma’d get me, one of ‘em would…would see me comin’ an’ fight back, dust me then.”

This wasn’t…entirely new to you. Sans had talked about this once before, briefly, telling you in passing about feelings like these.

It had come on the heels of so much other shocking information and it had been painful to hear then, but it feels so much worse now to hear Sans talk about dying.

You think you hadn’t loved him then, not the way you do now, and stars above, you do love him now.

The very thought of Sans not being around wouldn’t feel so much like losing a limb if you didn’t.

You’re not sure if you make a sound or if he can just feel that you’re upset, but Sans nuzzles at you, making hushing noises of comfort.

“s’okay, baby, s’okay, i’m not…you don’t gotta worry about me, i never… made an attempt or anything, i don’t…i don’t got that in me. s’just how i felt sometimes, on the bad days. i wanted…to punish myself, i think. for doin’ the stuff i did.”

His arms uncurl from your body and his hands are held out just in front of you. By the moonlight, you see the pale bones of his metacarpals, scraped and rough, and you don’t hesitate a second to fill them with your own hands.

“You don’t…” You bite your lip. “Do you…still think that way…?”

You’re a little afraid of the answer, but you need to hear it.

Sans spins you around to face him, your arms briefly tangling in your urge to not let go of Sans, but when you get it all sorted out…

He’s smiling at you, warm and real.

“no,” he says. “i don’t. not really.”

Your relief is so strong that for a moment, you feel weightless.

“got my bad days. happens, but…not bein’ around doesn’t really appeal the way it used to, y’know? got more stuff i wanna stick around for.”

There aren’t words for how happy you are to hear that.

“i got Pap, the guys at grillby’s, all those fluffy idiots at the shelter…” He chuckles a little and adds, “the fluffy idiot back in the house.”

“Hey,” you manage to say sternly, “that’s no way to talk about our son.”

One of his hands leaves yours, coming up to cradle your cheek.

“i got you, too,” he says softly, looking down at you with lidded eye-sockets.

For a second, you’re sure your heart is about to beat out of your chest, but he breaks your gaze to look up again.

“an’ i got the sky. there’s a whole lot of stuff for me to hope about these days, and...” Sans smiles just a little bit wider. “hell, i think i’d even say i’m…happy.”

Stars, you’re happy, too.

Here, in the arms of the strongest, most wonderful man you know, you don’t think you could be any happier.

You really do love him.

You press your face into his hand, turning just enough to be able to kiss it.

“Hey,” you say against his palm, “let’s learn constellation stuff.”

Sans snorts, building into a not-entirely-dismissive laugh.

“what, for real?” he says, like he can’t quite believe you said it. “you don’t think it’s, uh…heheheh, a little late for me to be learnin’ new stuff?”

He raps his knuckles against his skull with a hollow ‘tok-tok,’ but you don’t let it deter you.

“That’s why I wanna do it together!” you explain. “We can help each other out, it could be fun. Couples’ astrology!”

You see him trying and failing to hold back another laugh. “astronomy,” he corrects you. “unless you’re askin’ me what my sign is. real roundabout way of doin’ this, you’re supposed to ask my sign an’ then date me, what if we’re not compatible?”

“Pffff, shut up, we’re compatible,” you insist. “You know the right kind of star-charts to google, and me…” You smirk at him, a crafty glint behind your eyes. “I make some killer flashcards.”

Sans stares at you for a few seconds, processing.

You go on high-alert when his eye-light starts doing that shivering thing again, but this time… This time, it doesn’t stabilize into its normal, perfectly round shape.

Your mouth drops open when you see it.

“Sans,” you breathe, your eyes going wide. “That’s adorable, I didn’t know you could do that!”

“………do what?”

“…Oh my god.” Your hand comes up to cover your mouth. “You don’t even know you’re doing it…?”

Sans frowns a little, starting to look concerned. “doing what?”

It’s so, so hard not to squeal, but… “Your eye is a heart, baby.”

The big, red heart-shape taking up Sans’ eye-socket is the cutest, sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. You love it, almost as much as you love Sanswhich, as you’re starting to realize, is a hell of a lot.

Sans is maybe not quite as thrilled about his eye-light’s new trick as you are.

As soon as he realizes what you’ve told him, he’s practically blushing his skull off, hurriedly covering his face and whirling away from you like you hadn’t seen what you’d just seen.

Unfortunately for his pride or his ego or whatever was bruised right now, you aren’t exactly prepared to let it go.

You chase after him, trying to tug his arm away. “Come ooooon,” you whine playfully, “that was cute, I wanna see it!”

“no, nuh-uh,” Sans grumbles, trying to be gruff to scare you off, but he can’t fool you after that affectionate display.

He’s a softie, through and through, and you can’t get enough of it.

“Saaaaaans…!”

“no! quit it! it’s not, don’t!”

There’s a bit of a scuffle that’s about as one-sided as you could imagine: you’re a wily little human and he’s a gentle giant of a skeleton who’d never lay a hand on you.

Even when your blanket falls off and you both hit the ground on top of it, Sans manages to roll so that he takes most of the impact and you end up…well, exactly where you want to be—on top of him, bracing yourself against his rib-cage while he lies on his back beneath the moon and the stars.

You take a moment to catch your breath, winded from the little play-fight and your laughter. It’s a little disappointing to see that his eye-light is back to its normal shape, but you try not to get too down about it.

If you got him to do it once, you could get him to do it again. You’d just have to try harder from now on.

Sans is…very handsome from this angle, in this lighting. You think he’s handsome pretty much all the time, but right now especially…

You wonder if now would be a good time to tell him that thing you just realized, with that four-letter word that so many people were scared to say.

You open your mouth, ready to tell him.

“I—”

“y’shouldn’t play rough like that, that’s grounds for a break-up.”

“…snrk!”

So like Sans to break the tension with a shitty joke.

It’s part of the many, many reasons you love him.

You laugh and he grins proudly, his embarrassment easily forgotten and you’re happy to help it along by leaning down for a kiss.

“Stop trying to distract me,” you say against his teeth. “Let’s talk about those flashcards. Four-by-six?”

“ya’ gotta be kiddin’, with the size of my hands?” They land on your hips, holding your much smaller self steady with ease. “five-by-eight is barely good enough. lined or unlined?”

“Lined,” you say forcefully. “Don’t you ever suggest unlined to me again, I’m offended.”

Sans laughs. “offended over note-cards, an’ you call me a nerd?”

You hit him with the flattest look you can manage.

“Sans, you gave me a lecture on the care and keeping and properties of obsidian on the fly. No prior notice. Yeah, you’re a nerd!”

“that’s in these days, though, right? nerds are hot?”

Yours sure was.

“Eh, you’ll do,” is what you say.

It seems to be the right thing because Sans happily pulls you down for another nuzzle that you enthusiastically return.

All things considered, it’s probably the best six-monthiversary date you’ve ever had.

Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

[batfam-imagines]

Name

Prompt: The other day I was thinking and I came up with this thought that I couldn't shake off so I hope you could write it out for me: Imagine the reader is dating one of the batboys (whoever), they've been for a while, and somehow the subject came up and the reader says that their favorite boy name is the batboys name (for ex the readers fav. name is Jason) that it's always been their fav name. The batboy is just so proud because wow my s/o loves my name. Lame but I thought I think it would be cute.

----------

You quickly scale the side of the Clock tower, using your whip to swing higher. Glancing around the roof you realize that somehow you managed to beat Robin to your meeting spot. When you hear the sound of the grappling hook go off you duck behind one of the gargoyles.

“Come out, come out where ever you are, Kitten!! I know you’re here!”

You giggle and step out of the shadow, “Of course you did”

Robin smirk, stepping toward you and wrapping you in his arms. He leaned down and rubbed his nose against yours, “I missed you”

Pressing a kiss against the underside of his jaw and wrap your arms around him, “I missed you too, Bird Brain. Your dad has been trying to keep us apart”

Robin sighed, “I know. He’s worried about you finding out my secret identity. He already hates the fact that Catwoman knows who he is. He doesn’t want you to use my identity against me”

“I would never do that” you whisper, “Now, I believe you promised me a picnic date”

Robin pulled back, “I had Nightwing help me set everything up, so I hope it’s alright”

You grin and saunter over to the picnic blanket, “It looks perfect, sweetheart, now come over here and eat with me!”

--

When you finish eating the two of you sprawl out on the blanket, “Kitten?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think that we’ll ever be able to tell each other our secret identities?”

You roll onto your side, “I’d really like to, yeah. But we would have to swear not to reveal anything about our civilian lives”

Robin nodded quietly, “Makes sense. I’d really like to go on an actual date with you, not just sneak around at night”

You reach over, running your fingers through his dark hair, “Someday, Bird Brain. Let’s just get to know each other a little better for now, okay?”

He smiled, “Sure. We know most things about each other, so what do you want to know?”

You tap your bottom lip with your finger, “Umm, If you could go back, would you choose to be a vigilante again?”

“Yeah, I would. Being a Cape got me out of a really bad situation, and plus I met you” he leans forward and presses a kiss to your lips.

“Now you ask me a question, Tweety”

“Alright … let me think … What’s your favorite name?”

You cock your head to the side, “Like superhero name, girls name, or boys name?”

“Boys name”

“Well I always liked the name Jason, Alexander’s a pretty good name too. I always said that if I had a son I would name him Jason Alexander”

When you glance over at Robin, he has a huge smile on his face and he pulls you into another kiss. He pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, “I really like that name too”

--

You never find out Robin’s secret identity before the Joker kills him. Selina won’t even tell you where his grave is because his gravestone has his real name on it. So you decide to make your own grave for your fallen bird on top of the clock tower where you would meet.

This is where Nightwing finds you on the anniversary of his death.

“Hey, Kitten”

“Hey” you whisper, gently setting down the single black calla lily that you brought with you.

Nightwing kneels down next to you, “How are you doing?”

“’m fine” Nightwing leans back and you know that he’s taking in your blood soaked costume, and torn gloves. “The blood’s not mine, at least not all of it”

“The Joker ended up in ICU today, they say he might not make it”

You smirk, “I know. I left him alive, so Batman will be happy”

“If he dies, you will be responsible for his death”

“I won’t be. I might have beat him, but then he fell. Maybe he tripped, maybe he was pushed, no one will ever know but the two of us. Everyone thinks he tripped, so his death would be labeled an accident, ergo, I would not be responsible for his death.”

Nightwing sighs, “You’ve thought this out. I know you’re grieving over Robin, but …”

You whip around, your lips twisting in a snarl, “I got the revenge that your father refused to get!! An eye for an eye, ’Wing! He’s lucky I didn’t blow him up! Batman doesn’t even care about Robin anymore! He’s already got a new Robin out on the streets, damnit!!”

Nightwing sighed, “You know that Robin isn’t trying to replace your Robin, but Batman needs a Robin” You sign, waving your hand at ‘Wing

“Come on, Kitten. You can’t hate the kid for wanting to help. You know that he hates himself for making you upset. He knows how much you loved J-Robin.”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone your identities you know. The only reason I’m up here is because Batman and Selina won’t tell me where his grave is.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for that.”

“I’d like to be alone now, ‘Wing.”

He nodded standing up slowly, “If you need me, call me. I don’t really like the thought of you being alone tonight”

“I will”

“It looks like it’s going to rain. You should probably head in soon”

You smirk, glancing up at the older man, “When isn’t it raining in Gotham? But if it makes you feel better I’ll head in soon”

Nightwing nodded and then left to finish his patrol. You reach down, rearranging the flower, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there in time, I’m so sorry that you died, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t die with you”

--

When everything finally settles down with the Red Hood, you decide that you want to meet him. Selina had tried to convince you to stay in, and you know that she knows who’s under the hood. It only makes you more determined to go out. The first place you head to is the clock tower. It’s become a ritual, before you go out you go to the clock tower roof. But tonight is different, this time when you swing onto the roof, you aren’t alone.

“Well, I was hoping to run into you tonight”

The man smirked, his hood resting on the ledge beside him, “I’m glad I could make things convenient for you”

You reach over and pluck the cigarette from between his lips, “You’ve caused quit the stir in Gotham, Hoodie” You flick the cigarette to the ground and step on it.

“Hey!”

“Smoking is bad for you. I had a boyfriend who liked to smoke once, could never get him to stop”

“What happened to him?”

“I’d rather not talk about it. It’s kinda personal, and we just met” You plop down next to him, and cross your legs, “So! Why do you have such a vendetta against the Bats?”

“That’s a little personal”

“Is it? I mean you all have been fighting around the entire city, and I’d like to know why”

Hood sighed, “Curiosity killed the cat, you know”

“But satisfaction brought it back”

He smirked, “You’re still exactly the same”

Both of you freeze, “What do you mean?” you whisper

“Nothing” He snaps

You narrow your eyes, leaning closer to him, scrutinizing his face.” I know you” you mumble. You reach out, your fingers brushing over a small scar on his top lip, “Robin? Robin, is that you?”

Robin sighed, “Yeah, it’s me”

You fling your arms around his neck, letting out a sob, “I missed you so much!! How are you alive?!?”

“I’m not really sure. I woke up in my coffin, dug my way out of my grave, and ended up with Talia al Ghul. She put me in the Lazarus Pit, and then I went out and trained. I’m not sure how long I’ve been gone”

“Years, Bird Brain. You’ve been gone for years!! They wouldn’t tell me where you were buried, so I would come up here.”

“Why wouldn’t they tell you?”

“Your name is on your grave, silly. We never did get around to telling each other our names.”

He chuckled, “Well, now’s a good a time as any. My name’s Jason”

“Seriously?! So when I said I liked the name Jason…”

He smirked, “It’s why I liked your choice so much. You said that your favorite name was my name”

You roll your eyes, “My name’s Y/N”

“It’s nice to officially meet you, Y/N”

“The honor’s all mine, Jason”

You pull back from the hug to smack Jason. “What was that for?!”

“Don’t act like that hurt! That was for dying” you smack him again, “And that was for leaving me alone!”

“I missed you too, Kitten”

You roll your eyes. “You’re an asshole, Jason, but at least that hasn’t changed about you. I hope that we can get to know each other, again?”

Jason grinned, “I’d really like that. Maybe we can finally have that date we talked about”

“I think the least you owe me is a damn date, Jason.”

“Meet me here tomorrow? We can discuss times and places”

“Promise me you’ll kill less, before I agree to this”

“For you I’ll tone down the killing, I won’t do it for any of them, but for you I’ll try”

You reach out brushing your fingers through his hair, “I tried to kill him you know. The Joker. I pushed him off a building and everything, did it on the anniversary of your death”

“You’re the only one who did anything to avenge me” Jason whispered

“I almost followed him off that building, Jay. I wanted so badly to be with you. For a long time, I gave up the suit, I couldn’t be out here without you”

“What made you change your mind?”

“The new Robin did. He got hurt. That was when I realized that he’s just a kid, he’s doing the best he can, but if Batman wasn’t going to protect him that I had to. I wouldn’t let another bird die”

Jason sighs, “I’ve been really hard on the kid, maybe I should let up”

“You really should. He’s a good kid if you get to know him.”

“I’ll do my best for you, Y/N”

“Good. Now let’s go patrol together, we have a lot of time to catch up on”

Jason chuckles, “Yeah, let’s head out. How ‘bout we torment the old man? I heard that he was down in the warehouse district tonight”

You grin, “I’m always up for causing a little trouble”

Jason shoots off his grapple gun and jumps off the roof, “Race you there, Kitty Cat!!!”

“You’re on, Tweety Bird!!!”

[bigstepsforasmallperson]

Young Peregrin (my OC) meets Matt, Shiro and Keith at the garrison!

'How did HE become a pilot?' The question floated around in the garrison dorms. Before Peregrin had been repairing old training ships and before that he was merely a stowaway, fleeing a life from being exiled with his family to one of the first human space colonies. No one had taken kindly to an upstart, the scrawny midget with black curly hair and eyes too blue for his tanned complexion. During his free time he barricaded himself in his dorm studying and memorising and during training he threw himself into proving himself worthy. If the teachers saw potential when they picked him out, he didn't want to disappoint. The only problem was the crew he commanded, both navigator and engineer refused to cooperate with him, like the other students, they hated him for being dropped into a place rather than earn the position. They hated how he had gained one of the highest positions. How could a scrapyard dog be a pilot? He'd been here for two weeks and found his dreams were bitter. He wished he was back repairing ships with the others, until he met Keith, Shiro and Matt.

While his crew waited to enter the simulation, they watched one of the elite (highest-graded team) complete their mission. Peregrin marvelled at the skill- Shiro the pilot kept his cool when the engines broke down, Matt was able to keep track of coordinates and keep in contact with crashed ship and Keith was quick and efficient in fixing the problems, educated in ship parts Peregrin approved of Keith's knowledge. However when an unknown fault occured leaving the ship floundering and Shiro powerless at the controls, the team seem to fracture. The students around him gasped as Keith began yelling at Shiro and Shiro refused "It's too dangerous for the mission" "We have to land near the S.O.S beacon!" "We could jeopardise their lives" "They're dead whether we get there or not. If we land near them I can fix the ship and we can take them back!" "Keith, no" "Shiro!" "Shiro's right Keith" Matt swivelled around on his chair. Keith unbuckled his seatbelt and leapt across the small confines of the ship and grabbed the controls from Shiro "Keith?" Shiro shouted "Trust me" Keith throttled forward towards land. He did some magnificent maneuvers, but ultimately he crashed right into the beacon like Shiro had feared and resulted in both the distressed ship and the crews death. Keith stormed out of the simulation "I HAD IT!" Keith punched the wall "That was a terrible mistake cadet, in an elite team I expected better!" Iverson barked "Like I said, I had it" Keith seethed "No you did not. You're behaviour jeopardised the whole crew, you undermined Shiro" Iverson scolded "Perhaps if I had made the results more clear-" Shiro tried to pull the blame away from Keith but Iverson refused "We didn't work as a team, we panicked" Matt pointed out "it's not Keith's fault alone" "That's the third time you've done something like this Keith, keep it up and you won't have a place at the Galaxy Garrison anymore". Keith stared angrily at Iverson, not breaking contact, Shiro and Matt stood beside him, Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder to hold him back if he lost his temper, like he had before "Well, in a real ship, that could have worked" a small voice piped up. Keith narrowed his eyes as Peregrin stepped out "a simulation only lets you do it the way you've been trained, anything else fails you". Iverson stared at Peregrin, he looked like his was going to blow his top "We use these training methods for a reason, Mr Lenox, so no, it couldn't have worked. Not without colossal damage to the ship and crew" "But-" "Your crew have been dismissed from the simulation today" the engineer and navigator sneered at Peregrin before the stormed off, leaving him stranded with the students staring at him "Well at least someone makes sense here" Keith growled as he stormed off. Matt and Shiro exchanged looks before walking away, Matt turned to Peregrin "Aren't you coming?" "Coming?" "To the canteen?" Peregrin stared at Matt and Shiro puzzled "Why?" "Uh well, you've been relieved for the day? What else could you possibly do but eat the first pickings?" Matt smiled "Oh right" Peregrin scratched the back of his neck before joining Shiro and Matt as the stalked off after a hangry Keith.

Even sitting next to Matt, Peregrin still felt incredibly small. He tried not to goggle at his older elite companions as he picked at his food. Keith still had a death stare sharpening his features while Shiro and Matt smiled jovially trying to cheer him up "You guys can be so annoying" Keith grumbled "...and embarrassing" "You haven't said much" Shiro looked at Peregrin who sat opposite him "There isn't much to say" Peregrin shrugged, he must have been mirroring Keith because Shiro nudged him "Looks like you have a doppleganger" "Shut up, Shiro" "Well you both have blue eyes and black hair...Gasp! Maybe you're long lost brothers" Matt laughed "Ha if he was related he wouldn't be here" Peregrin said rather sharply to be funny "What do you mean?" Matt asked. Peregrin looked up from his plate to find Shiro, Matt and even Keith staring at him "Huh? Oh...I thought everyone knew..." "Knew what?" "Seriously?" Peregrin asked "Well, everyone's jealous of you for being a pilot..." Shiro frowned at Peregrin "Have you guys heard about the poor districts being sent onto the first set of space colonies to test if it's equipt for Earth's population? Yeah well my whole family got put aboard that, I'm the only one that got away" Peregrin said bitterly. The three elites stared at the cadet before them, his outlandish appearance suddenly made sense "How did you get here?" Shiro asked "I fixed a small craft. I thought if I came hear I'd be able to bring my family back,but I ended up stuck as a repair assistant until a placement at the garrison opened up and I was picked for my knowledge" "So you're a jump start" Keith pointed out "No, he's not, he did earn that place" Shiro interjected. Matt stared at Peregrin sadly "What?" Peregrin caught his gaze "Huh? Oh nothing" Matt smiled, Peregrin scowled and Matt faltered "You better come to my dorm, I guess".

Discarding their plates Matt took Peregrin, Keith and Shiro to his dorm and logged onto his computer, he smiled at the small icon of him and his sister in the corner before loading up information of the colonies "I've been studying them since they were first built all the way to the point of people living withint them" "But?" "The colonies you spoke of, they failed years ago. The ones up there now are new and improved". Peregrin sat on the floor as the statement waved over him "Years ago?" Was all he could muster "I'm really sorry Peregrin, after hearing what you said I though you deserved to know". Peregrin rubbed his eyes, they were moist but refused to cry. His whole purpose crumbled away. A steady hand was placed on his shoulder "You okay, buddy?" Shiro asked, he had knelt beside him "He's just realised he's lost his family and he's enrolled in a place he hates because he thought they were still up there, what do you think Shiro?" Keith snapped "Cut it out now Keith" Shiro sighed "I can't stay" Peregrin stated plainly "these people murdered my family". It felt like a switch had flipped, shy paranoid Peregrin had died with his family and all that was left was a sad angry shell "Calm down Peregrin, now is not the time to lose your head. This is the best place for you right now" Shiro soothed "we'll help you through it" "How? How can you possibly help?" "Keith's an orphan, Matt hasn't heard from his family in a while so he's a bit of a wreck-" "Am not!" "-and I'm a star student. Yes we graduate soon but we've got your back" "Wow. We really know how to make friends" Keith rolled his eyes and with that Peregrin laughed "That's better" Shiro smiled, sobering up Peregrin shook his head "I'll stay, but no promises".

Bonded by the declaration of secrets they all shared as a weird way of cheering up one another, Peregrin, Shiro, Keith and Matt left the dorm and headed to the common room of the dorm. Everyone seemed to gape seeing Peregrin with the elites, Peregrin could just feel the jealousy building  but for once he wasn't alone in the crossfire. Matt and Shiro laughed it off but Keith wore his signature scowl. They sat down on the spare sofa and spoke about different training tactics and the like, finally the staring stopped and conversations returned to it's usual noise rather than hushed. Peregrin seemed to fit into the group perfectly- Shiro the responsible leader (a true pilot), Matt the witty joker and nerd (definitely the right for the navigator job) and silent but deadly Keith hiding all his knowledge and angst (engineer? Debatable...) and then Peregrin himself, the follower (beginner pilot, how cute).

Time went on, Shiro graduated and Matt and Keith requested Peregrin to be their pilot. Peregrin still had an itch to escape the garrison and find all the answers to his piling questions, he could feel it with Keith too. Matt was leaving the garrison early, Shiro had contacted saying Matt's dad requested his son to help him out on a mission to Kerberos which Matt had jumped at the chance for. During a new simulation, he talked so much about the mission Peregrin and Keith got distracted and they ended up failing leading to Iverson to argue with Keith and Peregrin again, Matt twiddling his thumbs, he didn't have Shiro's skill at placating arguments.

During the nights he'd be back out by the repair ships fixing up a small vehicle, half of his body stuck inside the bulk, he didn't hear anyone approach "That'd look good with a red and white colour scheme y'know" Keith stood with his arms crossed, a smirk on his face as Peregrin yelled in pain as he hit his head jumping from his work "Keith you dick!" "What?" "How'd you know?" "You're not exactly great a sneaking" "Huh" "Need a hand? I'm not an engineer for nothing" Peregrin looked at Keith and then back to the vehicle "Okay but don't tell Matt". And so the two worked on setting up the motorcycle, adding extra here and there for their own uses "So you're going when Matt leaves?" Keith asked after a while "Are you going to stop me?" "Me?" Keith actually laughed at this "True. Then yes" "Well good luck, I'm sure we'll cross paths" "Definitely". They retired to their dorms a few hours before sunrise to have a few hours sleep. The motorcycle lay in the back of their minds, completely. Peregrin just hoped it functioned.

When dawn came Keith and Peregrin said their goodbyes to Matt and Shiro who had come to pick him up. They saw a quick glance of Matt's dad and just like that, they were gone. Then the gossip began. "Thank god the elites are gone, stuck up snobs" "Did you see how Shiro carried himself? It was like he was superior" "And the little tech nerd". Peregrin blocked them out, it was something he had mastered perfectly over the years, but Keith was at the end of his tether, visibly shaking with anger an during a class he blew his top and launched himself at a group of students, taking them down single handedly. He bolted out of the room, hastily packed his bags and head down to the motorcycle "Sorry Peregrin" He muttered as he swung the door open and the red and white vehicle sat waiting for him. Suddenly Peregrin barged past him and them fell down the few steps onto the floor "Keith?!" "Peregrin?" "You were going to steal my bike?" "What? Nooooo" "You were!" "Okay okay but I need to go" "So do I". With that they hastily forgot their anger at each other, dumped their bags in a little compartment and miraculously, Keith decided to drive, after an agonising moment of nothing, the bike started up "Perfect!" Peregrin  exclaimed before Keith smashed through the thin metal shutters and wooped as he put his foot down on the accelerator. Just like that they left the garrison, not quite fully fledged, but experienced crew members ready to start something that would most definitely piss Matt and Shiro off.