#either way i wanted to draw sad jason

[fakakta-art]

I screamed out, "How'd it get this bad?" And the thunder answered back; "If you know not what you lack Then you must un-turn your back Your inside is overcast You are tethered to your past And it must feel like fucking hell To be a patchwork of yourself"

The Thunder Answered Back by Gabby's World

[gothamite-rambler]

What if Cassandra Cain unintentionally sneaking up on people and their reactions personally affected her more then she let on?

Cass: Hi Tim.

Tim Drake yelped, dropping his coffee cup.

Tim: God! Can you give a heads up instead of sneaking up on people?

Cass (confused): I said hi when I was close to you. I wanted to ask if you wanted to go half on a pizza?

Tim: Sure, but next time give a warning.

Cass: Hm... Noted.

Cass walked dejected away as Tim picked up his coffee cup. He looked over where she was before to apologize, but saw she had already left, reasoning that she wasn't upset by his reaction.

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

Cass: Hi Stephanie.

Stephanie jolted turning around. Barbara laughed, shaking her head.

Barbara: She got you again. Hey Cass.

Cass (confused): Huh?

Stephanie (to Cass): Hey girl, geez you are good at that.

Cass: Good at what?

Stephanie: Popping up out of nowhere. It helps with crime fighting, but we've got to put a bell on you.

Stephanie and Barbara laughing only confused Cass further.

Cass (tilting her head): I was not aware that I... Startled people. I'm sorry.

Stephanie: Cass it's fine, we're just messing with you.

Barbara: It's how you are.

Cass: Oh, all the time?

Barbara and Stephanie nodded. Cass rung her hands together, burying how she felt but quickly forced a smile.

Cass: Hm... Noted. Let's go see the movie.

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

Cass: Hi Dick.

Dick screamed, jumping into Jason's arms.

Jason: Why is this your automatic reaction?

Jason dropped his brother.

Dick: Ow, she's really quiet and it catches me off guard!

Cass (confused and saddened): I'm sorry... I wasn't intending to do that. Again.

Jason (not upset): It's fine.

Dick: Just give a warning next time! Wear a bell- Ow!

Jason kicked Dick in the leg for that comment.

Jason: Calm down, you're acting like you saw a giant rat.

Dick (standing up): Whatever, sorry Cass, I swear it's like you're a ghost and appear out of nowhere.

Cass (surprised and upset): Oh.

Jason glared at Dick with his arms crossed.

Dick: I feel like I said the wrong thing.

Cass (hiding her true feelings): It's okay, I'm... Used to it.

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

Cass made her footsteps noticeably louder, as if she were in heavy boots while walking over to Damian.

Cass (tapping the young boy on the shoulder): Hi Damian.

Damian jolted lightly, dropping his sketch pencil.

Damian (apologetic): Sorry, my reaction wasn't overreactive. I'm trying to finish this sketch for art class I get into the zone- What's wrong, you look sad?

Cass (dejected): It's nothing, I'm the one sorry for startling you. Just wanted to tell you that Jason and Steph switched for who would be with who, me and Jason and you with Steph tonight.

Damian: Great I had to get the blabber mouth, thank you for telling me either way. Um, but are you sure you're okay? I wasn't upset about you sneaking up on me I get really into my art and-

Cass (thrown off by the comment): You too? I wasn't intending to sneak up on you, startled you or anyone. I swear.

Damian: Oh, you usually do it with everyone. My mistake.

Cass nods, hiding her true reaction and leaves silently. Damian shrugs and returns to his drawing.

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

Later that night, Cass in her Batgirl Orphan suit met up with Jason as he waited for her in his Red Hood suit.

Cass (somber as she walked over to Jason): Hi Jason.

Jason turned to face Cass and he smiled at her.

Jason: Hey, it's good to see you. You ready to patrol?

Cass: You're not... Upset I snuck up on you?

Jason: Nah, you're good at it and I like how you greet everyone. I can't be upset at you anyway, I tolerate you the most.

Jason patted Cass on the shoulder. Cass sniffled, wringing her hands together.

Jason (concerned): What's wrong?

Cass: I don't mean to scare people when I'm behind them or unnoticed. My dad always taught me to be silent when you kill your target... they'll never notice you, but I don't want to do that to any of you. It means that you think I'll hurt you. I'm not doing what I do on purpose or as a trick I-

Jason: Cass, it's fine. Come here.

Jason hugged Cass. Cass hugged him back, happy he wasn't against hugging her like he is with everyone else.

Jason (patting Cass on the back then pulling away): I know you're not an evil ninja or whatever your dipshit birth father wanted you to be. You're... Cassandra. You're sweet and awesome. Most of them are the type to fall out of a chair when someone's phone rings too loudly, especially Dick and Tim, so don't let what they say upset you.

Cass: When I scare you guys it makes me feel like a freak, like my father and mother were right.

Jason (reassuringly): They weren't, I promise you that. When you're "sneaking" up on people it's fine. I do the same thing. We're the type of people who can make an entrance and escape easily when we don't want to be with other people.

Cass laughs.

Cass: That's true.

Jason: I don't want you to ever think that you'll turn into some psychopath because you're not that Cass... You're family. And yes, I do mean that.

Cass: Um, thank you, Jason. I appreciate you being so nice to me about this. I needed that because while I can be a tough bad ass crime fighter... I don't want my family to fear me.

Jason (sympathetically): I get that, but we all love you and I could never imagine you hurting any of us.

Cass (smirking): I thought you tolerated me the most?

Jason: Eh, I love you too. Now are you ready for a night of beating the shit out of bad guys?

Cass (taking a power pose): I am!

Jason and Cass ran off together, ready to fight. Jason wasn't ready to admit it, but he shared the same concerns of harming others like Cass did, and continued to struggle with on him snapping one day, but he saw the good in Cass and he'd remind her of the good person she is. He loves his foster sister for her good heart even with all the hell she went through and he'd be there for her.

[theredcuyo]

Hmm, so today i worked with a bit of horror and this came to me

What if we make the Batman into a cryptid but the cooler kind, the leyend to scare young kids type

Before you write or send a comment, i'm mexican, born and raised, still live there. Thank You.

This came from me thinking about La llorona, a leyend (scary one) here in México and some other parts of latam it seems(?) and it's in short, about a woman whose kids die and she dies from sadness over it, with her eyes drying up from so much crying, becoming a spirit that haunts the world while calling for her children in desperate screams

The reason behind the kids' death changes depending on who you ask, either she killed them or it was an accident, but they die by drowing in all versions, and, as a result of the above, any kid she comes across gets taken away because she mistakes them for her own, they end up dying by her hands too tho (because she thinks they're hers and drowns them, or because she realizes they aren't)

She's also a single mother (the story goes back to the 1500 btw)

And I think Bruce fits this. So. Fucking. Well.

Like, Jason and Dick die, and he becomes this, and then Tim was trying to help him pass from the world but he couldn't and instead became his child too, and the rest followed along, by accident, by choice or not

Can he be a hero here? I don't think so, but, maybe he does care for the children somehow, the ones that he realizes aren't his, that they have parents to go to are the ones he protects

He cares for the people, who are not at fault for his loss, so he protects the city he also haunts

He cares for the nice old man who's never been afraid of him, who gives him a sad smile and who he feels like he knows but all the memories of his life are buried down and forgotten behind his children dying

He might not even want the children he takes to die, it's like the pit rage in canon, it takes over him and they world gets too blurry to think right

And he cares for those kids, he really does, it's not their fault, but there's one he can never remember the name of (Dick) no matter how many times he repeats it

Dick forgave his dad (whatever the reason for their deaths might be) and wanders around him in a nice way, doing his best so all of them can finally pass away

Jason hasn't. He haunts Bruce, most of the episodes where he snatches more kids away are Jason's fault, as he appears and dissapears in front of him, making him believe any kid is his boy, Jason doesn't notice and actually tries to protect other kids.

Steph's 'your not my dad!' call hits harder in this au-

Cass was wandering around town alone, she didn't stand a chance because she couldn't even scream for help. She's like a second shadow to Bruce, always near, always watching, and some who have scaped them swear her eyes never stop looking at you. She might be the only kid who's not mad at him for taking her away

Duke is similar enough, he didn't like the dark, but when there's no other choice is the worst thing that happens.

Damian's tale as a child of his that Bruce originally thought to have died gets worse when he gets taken, reunited but only by death, one that is his dad's fault.

One where Bruce got another one of his kids killed.

||||

Hoenstly, i'd like to work on this au? If that's like fine?

I'll try to make some designs and maybe like some draws, if i get to, a series of one-shots

Oh, and if you non-latam people want to know more about la llorona, well, there's a kids animated movie :D is called "La leyenda de la llorona" pretty sure you can find it with subtitles (always better than dub tbh) it's part of a saga on mexican leyends too, can watch the others if it calls your attention, they're fun

[amourisms]

lovesick.

summary : caught up in the toxicity of casual sex with your ex, you find yourself calling him up yet again.

pairing : jason todd x fem!reader

warnings : toxic relationship (?), fingering, pet names ( baby, angel ), breeding.

wc : 0.9k

a/n : sorry this is so short and not proofread its like 3am and i’m sad rn

whenever you two were in the same room, the air was dense. it never stemmed from the fact that he was your ex or some underlying hatred from it, actually the air was noticeably blue. your relationship with jason was extremely short-lived although the layers in the fleeting gazes and pursed-lipped smiles shared in passing had such a depth neither of you could understand.

you often looked back at your time spent together yet it always bought you back to one final memory; the both of you with tears in your eyes, your head on his chest, his hand in your hair and his other arm keeping you close when his words finalised the opposite. you remember his hauntingly soft tone was loud in your ears, "i know, baby, i know."

he never wanted to let you go, but he knew the darkness that consumed his riven soul would bleed into yours soon enough. he couldn't do that to you. how could he let the demons of his mind corrupt such an angel like you?

you remember his call that came a few days afterwards. you remember the tapping of your fingers on your wheel and the biting of your lip that managed to actually draw blood on the drive to his place. you remember his hand on your cheek, his finger wiping the liquid red on your lips. you remember his lips replacing his thumb and his comment on the taste of copper that elicited a smile from you. you remember the way his hands felt when he touched you.

you remember waking up to an empty bed.

that day you were certain his darkness did not corrupt you; it hollowed you.

you felt empty when he wasn't touching you, shaping you to be his and he needed you like a lifeline, even if he couldn't get you the way he wanted. even if you weren't together you both clung onto each other the only way either of you knew how, the only way you thought the other'd accept.

so you end up calling him again, and he ends up coming back, solidifying both of you as lovesick fools ignorant to the hurt.

your body felt as if it were a ravenous wildfire, starving for the touch and taste of him. needing to be his. even if it wasn't how you wanted. he wasn't sure why he kept going when he knew his poison was seeping into you more and more each time but maybe it was the sounds you made or the words you spoke that nested in the crevices of his bones that puppeteered him to kiss you and pull you closer.

you wore nothing but an old oversized t-shirt of his and underwear though he knew he was selfish for slipping his fingers underneath the bands of your panties. his fingers remain there hooked, bringing you closer and waiting for some sign of approval. forcibly you moved his hand as you impatiently stepped out of your underwear and began dragging his hand back down to your now soaked cunt.

he lazily trailed his middle and ring finger up and down your folds, before slipping a finger into your hole making you gasp into the kiss. when he added another finger and simultaneously began rubbing your clit with his thumb you were forced to break the kiss and roll your head back. as he began speeding up, more and more sounds escaped your lips finding a home in jason's ear but it was only when a soft whimper of his name, "jay…" came to light that he deemed the aftermath of love was such beautiful ruins.

he was all too familiar with your body, so it wasn't long before you came. your high washing over your entire body making you spasm around his fingers.

he let you take a moment to come back to reality, only to allow himself to undo his pants and step out of his boxers. with his level of need, one hand was rested on your hip and the other stroking his cock before you could even catch your breath. he began dragging his dick through your folds, alike earlier with his fingers, gathering your wetness on his tip before prodding at your entrance and finally pushing in and bottoming out in one fluid motion.

the hand that wasn't on your hip found its way to the nape of your neck to bring your face close to his, your moans and whimpers brushing against his lips. "you feel so good, angel" he whispers to you and you tighten at the beloved pet name he's kept for you all this time. he takes your lips into another kiss as you bring your palms to rest on his muscled chest and its moments like these where the shadows don't seem to follow him and your contaminated edges seem to fade. its moments like these where everything seems so right and perfect and blindingly light.

his thrusts get harder and faster and you become a babbling mess, breaking the kiss yet again though this time to sing praises which you know will be his breaking point. his movements become sloppier and his head begins to get woozier though he still manages to draw circles on your clit and suck at the sweet spot on your neck. your lips remain parted and can't seem to shut as he manages to overload your senses. you could only comprehend one sentence he spoke, "cum for me, baby."

your mind had already ascended due to the pleasure he bought you when your orgasm came crashing over every inch of your body. your legs were on the verge of giving out and your eyes stuck rolled to the back of your head as jason continues a few more careless thrusts before his cock twitches and he releases inside of you with a deep groan, leaving you full of him.

[yeetus-feetus]

wait i have something even angsty-er for Jason and losing dogs!!

god if only i could draw i'd make an animatic istg. Anyways, here's "i bet on losing dogs" for jason angst and a bit of jaytim:

My baby, my baby (Ooh-oh)

“You're my baby”, say it to me (Ooh-oh, ooh-oh)

Young Jason looking after his mum, pulling a blanket over her as she sleeps on the couch.

Running his hands through her hair, the camera moves to show Jason frowning.

Baby, my baby (Ooh, ooh-oh)

Tell your baby that I'm your baby (Ooh-oh, ooh-oh)

There are half-empty pill packets and needles and other rubbish littering the coffee table and Jason swipes it all off into a garbage bag. Camera angle shifts to show a portrait in a frame, showing his mother smiling and holding a much smaller Jason who’s also smiling.

I bet on losing dogs

Fade out to a small robin laying on the ground, feathers ruffled, wing very clearly broken. Small hands come into frame to gently cup the bird and lift it off the ground.

I know they're losing and I pay for my place by the ring

Jason is shown feeding it water through a measuring syringe and offering it seed from his palm for it to peck at.

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

Frame of just the small bird’s eye.

I'll be there on their side 

Frame of just Jason’s eye, sudden flash to Jason’s eye wet with tears under a broken domino mask.

I'm losing by their side

A fresh, teeny-tiny grave in a garden is in frame, a makeshift little stick cross standing in the dirt above it. Flickers to the glass tube in which Jason’s robin costume is kept, clearly labeled ‘Robin’.

Aah, aah-ah, aah-ah

Aah, aah, aah-ah, aah-ah

Montage of Jason helping people in his Red Hood gear. 

Starting with a flashbang, blood seeping into the concrete of an alleyway, a knife lying by a man's lower legs, as two small children cling to Jason; who tosses his gun and gets down on a knee to make sure they’re okay. 

2nd is Jason with only his domino mask on, bringing food to a homeless woman despite being clearly injured himself, holding his side and smiling at her. 

3rd is Jason talking with BIzzaro in that one comic, assuring him that Jason is his friend.

4th is Jason pulling a blanket around Roy, who’s fallen asleep sitting up with a bottle in his hand, Jason has a sad look on his face as he glances down at the coffee table -which flickers to his mothers table and back again- and moves to swipe the empty bottles littering it into a garbage bag.

Will you let me, baby, lose on losing dogs?

Fade out. A cigarette is pulled from a half-empty box.

I know they're losing and I pay for my place by the ring

The same cigarette is lit between freshly split lips. Zoom out to see Jason sitting on the edge of a roof as smoke floats around him. We see someone's silhouette standing on the edge of a slightly higher building across the way and a few buildings over.

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

Zooms in just enough to show Red Robin, dropping something over the edge and watching it, then moving to touch at his domino mask

I wanna feel it

Red Robin drops. Just falls over the edge like water over a waterfall.

I bet on losing dogs

Tim is smiling, a large scarred hand holding cupping one side of his face

I always want you when I'm finally fine

The camera shifts to show Jason with an even wider, truly happy smile as they draw closer and their lips meet.

How you'd be over me looking in my eyes when I cum

Hands are holding Jason’s on either side of his head as tears spill down his cheeks, one of the hands coming up to hold Jason’s face before we shift to see Tim smiling down at him softly.

Someone to watch me die 

A television screen where whatever's happening is blurred out except the headline “Jason Todd, ward of Bruce Wayne, dies at 15 in a…”

Someone to watch me die

Bloody and limp, Red Robin is being cradled in strong arms with a speech bubble exclaiming “TIM!”

Jason has thrown his helmet off and tears are spilling out of him like rain over Tim’s pale cheeks. The blood is pooling further out around them and seeping into Jason's suit. Another speech bubble, frantic “No! No, Tim!”

I bet on losing dogs

Close up of Jason’s wet, desperate face with the speech bubble “...Tim... please don’t leave me...”

Fade out to the small grave in the garden for the robin Jason buried as a kid.

Then fade to black.

[crabreadingfanfiction]

Sorry

Eleven (Jane Hopper) x Reader

(Unfinished for no specific reason other then I just never came around to continuing, been sitting on this so screw it I’ll just upload this here. My direction with this involved reader taking the place of Max with them “dying” If anyone wants to take what I’ve written and finishes it then go for it, you have my full permission and consent)

“Get off of me!” Punching the basketball player off, you run back to the Creel house.

Bursting through the door you yell out “Lucas! Jason is-“ Suddenly the floor below you breaks and you feel yourself falling. Opening your eyes your met with your old room.

“Sweetie.” Turning around you come face to face with your mother.

Falling backwards you land on your back. “M-mom?” Stuttering out your words as you slowly get up.

“How, where am I?” You ask as you walk closer to her.

She puts her arms out for a hug “What do you mean? We’re at home. *sigh* El is gonna be here soon, I invited her for dinner. I wanted to have dinner with my future daughter in law.” You feel your eyes tear up but soon realization hits you.

“Your not real.” Backing away your mother’s face shifts to confusion.

“Honey what are you talking about?” She moves closer as you slowly back away.

“Of course I’m real.” You want her words to be the truth but you know they’re lies.

“Your not real because your dead!” You yell at her as tears start to fall from your eyes.

“Your dead because of me!” Screaming this out causes her face to become blank.

“You did kill me didn’t you?” She says before walking slowly towards you, as her surrounding start to rot and her features change.

“I’m dead because of you. Because you killed me.” Her skin now pale and cold, a bite mark on her side with dried up blood.

“If it wasn’t for you, I’d be alive wouldn’t I?” Your mind races and tears fall freely from your eyes. Your back to the wall as your mother approaches.

“You should’ve died that day. Right?” She questions as she stops a foot away from you.

“Yes. I-It should have been me.” Ever since that day, you’ve blamed yourself. If you would have listened to the party, if you listened to your mother.

You should have trusted Eleven but you let your fear of her getting killed take over. If you didn’t run to her, you wouldn’t have almost been stabbed by the mind flayer. Then your mom wouldn’t have pushed you out of the way. You remember that day, you always remember.

The scream of pain from your mom as the tentacle stabbed deeper. Your inability to help as you stay frozen in shock and horror. The way the mind flayer threw your mother aside like she was nothing. You only moved again when Eleven grabbed you hand as the two of you ran to safety.

You didn’t even notice when Billy sacrificed himself. You were so gone that the only thing that brought you back to reality. Was when Eleven brought you to your mom. As she lay dying, you remember the way she smiled at you.

Her last words to you. “Don’t blame yourself my sweet y/n. Remember what you father told you before he passed.” She places her hand on your cheek as tears fall from her eyes.

“I’ll always love you y/n even when I’m gone.” She says attempting to sound like your dad.

“Even when I’m gone y/n, I’ll still love you. You’re not alone either, you have your friends and most importantly Eleven.” She covers her mouth as she coughs, blood staining her hands.

“I love you both so much, take care of each other and always love each other.” She tells you and Eleven as she holds your intertwined hands.

“I’m just sad I’ll never get to meet my grand babies. But I’m happy to have had two amazing children even if you two aren’t married yet.” Even in a time like this she still knows what to say to make both you and Eleven blush.

Seeing you both blush causes you mother to laugh, but she coughs more blood soon after. “You two are adorable, I love you two so much. Goodbye my lovelies.” With her final words said your mother’s eyes close as she draws her last breath.

Coming back to the present you stare at the thing saying it’s your mother. “I can make your pain go away.” It states as it inches closer. Pushing it to the side you run out of your room and are met with the creel house.

Running to the front door you try to open it but it’s boarded shut. You start to attempt to break the boards off but nothing works. “Y/n. Just accept it. You will die here and be the final piece of my plan.”

Turning around your met with Vecna. “How are you here! I thought you had Max under your control now!” You scream out at him as a low chuckle escapes his throat.

“You truly believed I didn’t know what was going on? I knew your plan from the very start. Your friends in the upside down are dying as we speak.” As he tells you this your face pales.

‘How did he know?’ You question but Vecna soon answers.

“That nagging feeling you’ve felt, the feeling of being watched. That was me.” His statement makes your blood run even colder.

“I-I thought you only had four victims!?” You yell out questioning him. He just stares at you as if you’ve asked the dumbest question known to man.

“How naive are you to think I would not have a backup plan? It was a good thing too because it seems your lover has come to save Max” Vecna says with disgust and anger. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice Vecna was right in front of you.

“I may have given up Max but you will be my final key. Though I must say I will savor this moment.” Without another word Vecna puts his hand on your face. Suddenly you feel as if you’re very being is being pulled apart and out of you.

Screaming out all you can feel is excruciating pain. “Your screams amuse me. Sadly Eleven won’t be able to hear them.” Vecna states with joy, unbeknownst to either of you. Eleven has come to your aid, she throws Vecna away from you and through the wall.

Running to your side Eleven holds your face in her hands as she looks at your pained face. “El? You’re here?” You cry as she holds you in her embrace.

“Yes I’m here n/n (nickname).” You hold onto her as if she’ll disappear any second.

“I’m so scared El.” She

[rosewood-multifandom-writer]

And the worst part? Antis are sometimes LGBT or have an interest that would get them made fun of or worse, labeled as something serious. Like furry antis are the most ironic antis I’ve ever come across to the point where I don’t even like furries or furry artwork anymore. Ironic how they can say things like anime fans are “pedos,” because they’re opening the floodgates to some obnoxious and toxic anti-furry troll calling them “zoophiles” or insinuating that they want to violate their own pet dogs or someone else’s pets. Or maybe because they did go through that from bullies and people starting harassment campaigns and are repeating that cycle. Either way, it’s sad and ironic.

Resident Evil antis have also ran a non-binary artist and a fanfic writer off of Tumblr because the former shipped Jason Todd with Tim Drake and the latter made dead dove Leon Kennedy fanfics. I personally do not agree with shipping any of the Robins together like that nor do I like dead dove content of Leon Kennedy where he is the perpetrator of hardcore dark fetishes that involve non-con, because it feels very much out of his character, but that does not mean that the constant harassment and bullying is okay. Then again, those people probably sleep super well at night knowing that they ran off two people who have suffered the worst circumstances in their real life before being on Tumblr.

Leon Kennedy is not gonna thank any of these people for “saving” him, he’s pixels on a screen from a video game. Jason Todd and Tim Drake cannot thank any of the people who ran the non-binary artist off the Internet because Jason and Tim are just drawings from comics and cartoons. NONE of these characters have sentience. No fictional character has sentience. A real human being has sentience, and the constant harassment and bullying can and will become too much. If one wants to dismiss this and thinks that these people are “softies” I will say this: if you can mentally handle a large group of people starting a harassment campaign against you, calling you an “incest defender,” “a rape apologist,” or “a pedo” over fanfiction or fanart you made while making callout posts designed to harass you with people sending you death threats or people dehumanizing you and discriminating against you, then congrats. But not everyone can handle it, due to multiple circumstance outside of Tumblr and Twitter.

To end this rant, being LGBT+ and an anti is THE most ironic. Because for years and years, LGBT+ people have had to fight tooth and nail to have the content they want to see without it being censored or seen as scandalous because it’s two men or two women kissing and holding hands like the heterosexual pairings do. People are calling LGBT+ representation “grooming children” or calling LGBT+ people “groomers” because what? They want to see LGBT+ representation that doesn’t involve stereotyping or the creator is forced to ONLY hint at it or censor themselves? Plus, if you can show cartoons of Mickey and Minnie Mouse hugging and kissing, then there should be no issue with showing two female sapphic characters hugging and kissing like Mickey and Minnie Mouse.

Bonus points if an LGBT anti lives in a country where being anything other than cisgender and straight is a crime, which is so many countries. I’ve also seen LGBT antis cheer on and celebrate the Chinese government for throwing a Genshin Impact artist in jail just because they do not like the “pedo” content they make. China’s age of consent is 14, by the way. Not only that, China has legalized conversion therapy camps for LGBT+ citizens.

I could provide more examples, but we’d be here all day. So… TL:DR, antis just come out of the nooks and crannies of certain fandoms and communities to the point where them being antis is ironic, further making that short comic age like a fine wine.

Some of you aren't being progressive as you think you are.

[lex-munro]

So I'm doing a combined workshop on portraiture and red carpet photography soon (combined as in I'm teaching people how to have their pictures taken while also teaching how to take those pictures), and while prepping, I realized I'd come up with the best bare-bones list of how to get better at having your picture taken.

So. Five free pro-tips for being the person getting your picture taken, from a person who professionally takes pictures of people.

1) Nothing straight-on. Straight-on is clinical and often lifeless, and deeply unforgiving in most cases. Straight-on is the least representative of what people see when they look at you, and can have an Uncanny Valley effect, which will make people vaguely uncomfortable when they look at the pic. If your body is pointed at the camera, turn or tilt your head; if your face is pointed at the camera, turn or tilt either the shoulders or hips. If it's a bust and you feel your face is best from head-on, tilt your head slightly in any direction (up emphasizes the nose and neck, and usually the lower lip; down emphasizes the forehead and brows, as well as the outline of the jaw, but can accidentally give you a double-chin unless you also lean your torso forward; tilting to either side will emphasize asymmetry, especially in jewelry, haircuts, and eye-shape). In full-body from the front, tilting your butt upward will de-emphasize your thighs; turning your shoulders to the side will de-emphasize them while head-on with a tilt will emphasize them; one leg forward and lax will lengthen your silhouette, while feet more than shoulder-width apart will shorten it.

2) Ideal camera height is lower than you think. Again, to best represent the experience of looking at you, make sure the central focus is higher than the camera--so when taking selfies, hold your phone with the camera at the bottom, aiming in the general direction of your mouth in order to avoid inflating either the brow or the chin. When someone else is holding the camera, don't try to lower yourself for fear you're not in the frame.

3) Holding still is stately and relaxed, moving is fun and energetic. Don't be afraid to twirl a little, or fluff your skirt or jacket. If you're always dancing, do a little dance. That's part of your energy, and part of what builds the memory others have of you. If you're the quiet, reserved type, don't hesitate to find a comfortable way to sit or stand still. For seated portraits especially, relaxing into the pose is very different from leaning forward or sitting ramrod-straight. Hands in your pockets can draw the eye down in a tight outfit, but it can also be a way to make space in a garment if you want your jacket to show less chest/stomach or your trousers to show less crotch. If you want to look sad, or thoughtful, or vampy, or high, or whatever, talk about that with your photographer so that they're ready to help you make the right face and pose.

4) Always ask for at least two shots. Not pose advice, I know, but still important. Try different smiles, different poses. Give yourself options. A good photographer will have been observing you carefully during the setup/consultation and will give you prompts they think will refine your pose to achieve your goals, and will usually be happy to show you the difference. "More teeth. Think about tap-dancing kittens. Chin down just a little. Pretend there's peanut butter on the back of your front teeth. And one with your mouth closed. Pretend you're showing a puppy your new ankle tattoo. Twirl. Maybe less twirl. Jason Momoa loves your manicure."

5) Be aware of how your clothes and/or makeup reflect light. Check yourself with warm and cool lights, fluorescent, daylight, etc.--if you'll be in a specific setting (taking company photos in the office, taking wedding photos in a Church, taking Easter photos in the park), try to mimic the lighting of that setting when you choose makeup and wardrobe. Intense spot lighting can wash out matte fabrics like chiffon or blow out the contrast on satins (one reason some photographers loathe other photographers at red carpet events). Translucent setting powders will typically lighten the face under flash photography, and can reveal texture irregularities. MAC is particularly nice on camera, which is a huge reason for its popularity in the film industry, but you can also get great results with photo-oriented cosmetics such as Revlon Photo-Ready.

[damn-stark]

Part 1 The Lady & The Prince

Part 1 of The Lion and The Dragon

Summary: You’ve been married off to the one eyed Prince will time tell that he’s everything you dreamt for in a man, or will he be the greatest nightmare that has been foretold.

A/N- Ahh okay I really love how this turned out! Should I continue with this series, at least until we get to episode 10? Also this readers features are ambiguous y/n comes from a first marriage not Jason Lannister’s canon one!

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!fem-reader

Warning- Angst, creeping prince Aegon, language, forced marriage.

Episode- takes place before 1x08

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Decisions aren't an option you have, not when it comes to a suitor.

You liked to pretend you did.

“A prince…every lady's dream,” you sigh and slowly walk to your balcony towards your friend. “Or perhaps this charming man?” You point to the portrait of the same man, only he doesn't have his iconic eyepatch in this one.

“He has a dragon. The largest in the world.” Your friend giggles and pulls the portraits away from her face to watch you pace back inside. “If you’re nice, maybe he’ll let you ride it.”

You sigh. “At least it’s not prince Aegon. I’ve heard he’s….well not the most loyal or sane man.”

“Or his grandsire,” your friend adds in a teasing tone. “He looks like a malicious old man.”

You stifle your laugh and spin around to gasp dramatically. “Nyra, he’s the hand you hold more respect for the lord.” You plop down on a bench by the bed and grin mischievously. “It’s a good thing my future husband didn’t get his grandfather's looks. A beard on that strapping chin would be a shame.” You throw yourself back on your bench. “I wonder what his eye socket actually looks like under the patch. Sometimes,” you say and clasp your hands over your stomach. “I like to just imagine the reality of it, scarlett flesh and veins. Keeps me in check just in case.”

Nyra lays on the foot of your bed and begins to trace circles on the silk sheets. “I hear he has a dragon's eye.”

You giggle and sit up to meet her amber eyes. “A dragon's eye?” You retort.

Nyra nods with confidence. “Just like his dragon's eye.”

You hum and watch her with a pointed look for a second before you begin laughing. “I’ll bet you half of my wardrobe that is not true.”

Nyra flips around to lay on her stomach and offers you her hand. “Half of it.”

You narrow your eyes and nod as you shake her hand. “Deal.” You pull your hand away and lay back down.

“So,” she continues to speak this time with a cocky tone. “Which strapping lad will you choose?”

As if there is a choice you think between Prince Aemond with the patch, and the portrait of him without the patch on to pretend that’s how he’d look if he didn’t lose his other eye.

“Prince Aemond with the patch, I think he looks more brooding and handsome that way.” You point to the portrait.

Nyra laughs and stays quiet after that, letting you look at the painted ceiling with sadness. “I’ll miss home. I’ll miss the peace, the silence,” you sigh. “It’s not fair that I have to leave home.”

“Nothing in this world is fair,” Nyra whispers to you. “But we either adapt to what comes our way with our heads up, or life drags us under and drowns us.”

“Hm,” you hum and let her words sink.

“Besides,” she adds with a quiet laugh. “He’s a prince.”

You shrug. “He is a prince, his family brings more power to my father, protection, but what about me? It's nothing more than a marriage for political gain. A loveless marriage.”

“I’m going to say something but don’t take it the wrong way, okay?”

You draw in a deep breath and prepare for what’s to come out of her mouth. “Okay,” you breathe out.

“So what? Many people would kill to have the life you have. A loveless marriage is nothing compared to what other people suffer,” she shares with no shame. “You’re going to live pampered in that castle, and if you are unlucky in your marriage you’ll probably just have to see the Prince every few days.”

She’s right but is it a sin to wish to be loved by the man you’re meant to marry?

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

The day had finally come, the quote on quote happiest day of your life. From now on you'll be referred to as the ‘Prince’s wife’, ‘Prince Aemond’s wife’, you’ll be his property—not like you ever belonged to yourself in the first place.

Free days in the ocean and galavanting down the green fields are gone. From now on you’ll be nothing more than a polished ornament who has to live by a schedule or else they’ll gossip—they can’t see the prince’s wife flaunting around.

Sure home wasn’t so different but at least there you were in the comfort of your own home, freer to a point, a daughter who didn’t have to worry about carrying the family name or run a noble house. It’s all over.

“All done,” Nyra lets you know and steps away to turn you around so she could take a better look at how you looked in the white dress. She grins from ear to ear as if she were the mother seeing her daughter off—“You look beautiful.”

You duck your head and catch the gleam of the golden dragons embroided along the sleeves of your dress, another reminder of what today was, of what was going to happen.

“I can’t go back, can I?” You quietly ask Nyra.

Nyra sighs and grabs your hands so you’d face her. “No,” she says bluntly. “You can’t.”

You slowly let your eyes fall and feel your eyes sting with tears.

“But it’s okay,” Nyra tries to assure you as she pulls away to go grab one last thing. “This is where your life changes!”

You smooth out the white silk long skirt and draw in a deep breath and nod softly. A knock then proceeds to sound on the door as Nyra returns to you with a red cloak decorated with a large beautiful embroidered golden lion in the middle, and darker gold stitchings along the collar.

“Come in,” you shout to the visitor.

The doors slowly open while Nyra puts the cloak on you, and a long term family guard walks in, Ser Robert.

“My Lady,” he greets and looks at you through the mirror.

You smile at him through the mirror. “Ser,” you greet. “Please tell me you’ve come to take me home.”

He shakes his head and then raises it up high to smile at you faintly before he gives the most unfortunate news. “It’s time. They’re waiting.”

You let out a deep breath. “Right,” you whisper. “Let’s go.” You turn slowly and walk towards the knight to hook your arm around his.

He then slowly walks you down to the great hall with no intention to take you away. He passes by guests who begin to gawk and whisper, servants who stop to wait for you to pass and knights who keep focused on their duties.

And slowly as you get closer to the great hall the louder the music travels out and fills the candle lit halls with peaceful music, giving a gentle reminder of what stood there for you. The guests' voices from inside mix but don’t grow as loud.

The moment you reach the hall's doors there your father stands in his red and gold suit waiting to walk you to your future, your future waiting inside that great hall with all the guests, his mother the Queen, his father the King and his siblings. Now that you stand outside the doors and know they’re waiting, your heart drops and being in your father’s presence, grabbing his arm brings no comfort.

Jason Lannister is cold, he’s always been so as far as you can remember, after all you are no son. After his son and heir was born to his second wife, you were forgotten. You are simply a reminder of your mother who no longer lives. Even when she was alive he showed you no kindness.

Still it felt better off with him than the stranger who awaits at the end of that hall.

“Off you go, sweet child,” Ser Robert says as he gives you off to your father.

You glance at the old knight and share a sweet and faint smile before drawing in a deep breath and facing the grande doors.

The guards notice and slowly begin to open the doors, instantly causing your breath to slowly unfurl from your nose, causing the tempo of the music to change to a much softer and slower tune, making the guests' voices grow quiet as they create a path towards him. The prince Aemond.

The moment the crowd departs, you see him standing at the bottom of the stairs in front of the septon like a shining knight in armor. His stance shifts and his eye focuses solely on you just as the crowd fixes their eyes on you as you slowly make your way down the aisle.

It’s not until now as you can’t look at anyone else but your betrothed that you notice how much taller he is than people say, he’s slender, and looks elegant in his black suit. He’s also much more intimidating, more menacing looking as you finally see his scar and eyepatch in person. If looks could kill his icy cold look would. It’s like he’s piercing into your soul.

Nonetheless, when you reach the bottom of the stairs your father lets you go. You try to hold onto his arm a bit longer but he yanks his arm away and walks behind you to take the cloak off your shoulders. Finally relieving himself of the responsibility of taking care of you and handing you off to be someone else’s problem.

The septon sees the interaction and then steps down and points his hand to you. “You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection,” he says to the Prince.

The Prince breaks his stance and pulls his cloak off his shoulders and walks behind you. You feel his warmth against your back, feel his stare into your neck before he carefully drapes the black cloak around your shoulders.

This cloak is lighter, softer against your skin, warmer.

Regardless, the prince then returns to his spot and the septon continues with the ceremony, making this much more real.

“Join hands,” the septon instructs.

A small breath unfurls from your nose as you slowly raise your hand and place it on top of the prince’s palm, letting him secure his hold around your hand, letting you feel how warm his hand really is, and the roughness of the callouses he had on his palm.

The septon then proceeds to tie a ribbon around your hands, and as you glance over to watch you see how much bigger the prince's hand is compared to yours. It's almost like he’s guarding your hand under his.

That’s not all, when you’re looking, from the corner of your eye you catch him looking too. His eye shifts up and for a split second you meet each other's gaze before you avert your gaze.

“In the sight of the Seven,” the septon says as he ties the ribbon. “I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity.” The septon then steps back and instructs, “Look upon one another and say these words.”

You swallow thickly and turn to finally be face to face, to finally meet his gaze from up close.

He’s still just as intimidating. His scar is longer than you thought, his jaw more defined and sharp, longer than in the portrait. His eye is icier blue, his lips just as thin and pursed together. His face is just as attractive, perhaps even more than the paper does it justice. His hair is the most impressive, white-silver and long, soft from the looks of it; it suits him. As far as arranged marriages go, his looks aren't a bad thing.

“Father, Smith…” the septon whispers so you both could recite them to each other.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger,” you repeat as you hold his gaze, and feel your heart pound and feel your stomach…flutter? Under his gaze. “I am his and he is mine from this day until the end of my days.”

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden Crone, Stranger,” he repeats at the same time in a softer elegant voice. “I am hers and she is mine from this day until the end of my days.”

The corner of your lips twitch to a smile you don’t let fully emerge.

“With this kiss,” the prince says additionally. “I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife.”

You draw in a deep breath and feel your heart beat harder. “With this kiss,” you breathe out. “I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband.”

Now it’s all sealed with a kiss, the prince cups your cheek and pulls you in for a lingering, deep and sweet kiss that you find yourself relishing in.

“One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” The septon declares and finishes the ceremony.

*LATER*

Perhaps now came the worst part of the night. The bedding ceremony. It was your duty you understood, but it’s what happens before that you don’t like the idea of. Having all those random men undressing you as you’re taken to his chambers is demeaning to say the least. Hopefully he doesn’t like the idea of it either.

“It’s almost time,” Nyra cheers as she dances around you.

You sigh. “You sound more excited than I am.”

Nyra waits to be close again to respond. “Have you seen him?”

You roll your eyes and look over at your husband and Prince still sitting around the table and catch his stare.

“Perhaps he is a good kisser.” You share with a small smirk.

Nyra grins and twirls. “He has not taken his eye off you the entire time you’ve been dancing, have you seen?”

You giggle and twirl around across the room and wait to be close to her again to respond. “How can I? If I've been busy listening to you?”

Nyra scoffs. “Well now you know.” She leans her towards you and whispers. “You tell me everything. I want to know it all.”

You shoot her a pointed look and turn to change partners, yet just as you were going to grab your partner's hand prince Aegon approaches you. “May I take this dance with her?” He looks to the side and smirks.

“Of course my prince,” the man says and moves away to let the prince take your hand.

“You honor me my prince,” you tell him.

Prince Aegon once again glances to the side before focusing on you. “I want to show you a good time,” he says simply.

You smile and stiffen under his touch.

“And I also wanted to advise you about my brother,” he snickers. “You might want to remind him where to put it.”

You clench your jaw and can’t help but glance at Aemond who seems to be actively watching now more tension.

“Of course I’ve taken him to practice, but,” Prince Aegon continues with a snicker. “He’s a prude, my brother. Says he wants to save himself for his wife. You show him—“

“Brother,” A familiar voice cuts in, making the prince turn you around to see Aemond. Thank the gods—“May I take my wife?”

The prince raises your hand and presses a kiss on your knuckles before departing and handing you to Aemond.

“I hope…” he finally speaks to you.

The ceremony passed, dinner came and passed and he hadn’t spoken to you, like you didn't speak to him. It’s startling for sure hearing him talk now.

“…My brother wasn’t too harsh, or abrupt with his words,” Aemond apologizes for his brother.

You get separated and wait to hold hands again to speak. “There’s no need for apologies, I have a handmaiden with quite the sharp tongue as well.”

Aemond hums and pulls away to spin you around and then swiftly pull you back to him. Instead of moving with the dancing crowd you stay at a standstill and hold each other's gaze for a moment, only feeling each other's breaths unfurl over each other since you stood very close. Feeling your heart pound once again and wondering if he could hear it.

“Let’s go,” he breaks the tension and begins pulling away from the crowd. “I don’t want them to—”

“It’s time for the bedding ceremony!” Someone announces when they notice Aemond pulling you away, causing everyone to stop what they’re doing to look over at the both of you failing to make an escape.

Fuck.

Aemond tightens his hold around your hand and slowly turns around to pierce his cold stare into the crowd, letting them all know with that single cold and hard glare that no one could come near you or touch you, and that this tradition of undressing the wife and husband wasn’t something he would do.

No one dared protest; it was impressive he could cause such fear in people with his look alone. Not even his brother dared to speak up, even if he was the only one who didn’t seem to be afraid of Aemond.

“Let’s go,” Aemond repeats and turns you again to continue towards his chambers.

Nyra was lying before.

This is where your life really changes.

.

.

.

.

[ketchup-monthly]

oh honey you know me im always down for a good monster au, and i have some thoughts and notes that could apply here!

i see your phoenix dick and werewolf jason but have you considered: phoenix jason. (i mean im just a sucker for phoenix imagery in relation to jason, but he keeps coming back! he keeps dying but he keeps coming back!). plus theres something to the tenacity of jason and the inability to kill a phoenix, who keeps dying in a blaze of glory and rising fro mthe ashes of the past to become something new, with new chances in life to make the right decisions.

and werewolf dick doesnt fit exactly right, but i know in a lot of media vampires and werewolves have rivalries of sorts with vampires, but i also know that classic Bram Stoker vampires (and a few others) have the ability to turn into a wolf at dawn and dusk (or at the turning of the tides), so vampire bruce, out at dusk, sees this orphaned child turn into a wolf at the exact time that vampires would be able to turn and maybe confuses little dickie for a vampire and takes him in, only to learn the next month, after many tries to get little dickie to shapeshift, trying to coach him into being able to transform, that he can only transform on the full moon or something because hes so young and doesnt have full control over when he shifts yet (plus werewolves themselves are an allegory for the human condition, and the symbolism is often times adapted and adopted by trans people so 👀)

ghost tim is a very sad concept but also yeah okay that makes sense oh why this kid is a ghost. however, within that, tim will never age. bruce will never age (most likely. depends on whether or not as a vampire he is alive, dead, or undead). alfred’s ageing is significantly slower and whoever the phoenix is cant functionally die because they would just come back.

but there are also so many little funky vampirisms that the kids would exploit the shit out of to get what they want. looking across vampire books, film, and folklore, i’ve compiled a list of traits that some vampires have that 100% either bruce or the kids would exploit:

shapeshifting- this one bruce would exploit the hell out of. as i said before, Stokers vampires can shapeshift at dawn and dusk, and into a bat, a wolf, a swarm of rats, i want to say spiders or some kind of bug, and mist. bruce would use the mist form when he wants to spy on people or things. the only downside is that he cant turn back until the following dawn or dusk

vampires cant cross running water- there is a little stream on the wayne property that bisects the backyard. any time the kids are mad at him or want to do something that bruce wouldnt want them doing or want to keep something from bruce, they go just on the other side of the stream, where he cant get to them

if a rose is placed on the top of a vampires coffin they can’t get out of it- this is self explanatory. (lovingly) trap bruce in his coffin to get back at him for making them eat their vegetables or whatever

garlic flowers- its the actual flowers, not the bulbs or the part you eat. so bruce has no issue with italian cooking for himself or his kids (if he could even eat it), but the flowers? alfred has planted garlic all around his garden to keep bruce from messing with it and accidentally killing everything

obsessive counting- vampires will obsessively count things that are thrown in front of them (like seeds, salt, or something similar). this one is less someone else does it to bruce and more he does it to himself

crosses/crucifixes- good thing bruce is jewish! (do jewish vampires get hurt by the star of david?)(either way, poor bruce when his catholic/lapsed catholic son jason moves into the manor)

vampires with no reflection in silver backed mirrors- the kids maybe dont know that its silver backed mirrors specifically and thought it was all mirrors and drew something on bruces face and lo and behold, he looked in an aluminum backed mirror and saw the drawings and chased his kids down to attack them with cuddles or something as punishment

permission to enter- a show of trust! bruce cant enter his sons rooms without their permission so it means so much more when jason finally says that hes welcome in, or when dick reaches out and asks for help with a nightmare or a particularly bad full moon, or tim needs a second pair of eyes with something, or anything else. when the kids finally allow bruce into their rooms, its such a sign of trust

Battinson Vampire Au

Bruce is a 400 old vampire, Alfred is a fae, and adopt supernatural children who need protection.

What do you think?

Ooo interesting! I usually keep it light-hearted with monster AUs, but I've been thinking that maybe vampires have a strict "No interspecies children" law. It's applied to unmarried/bonded vampires, usually.

Basically, aside from puritan bullshit ideologies and classism, vampires are regularly deemed as unfit parents due to being emotionally detached prone, always at risk of attacking a child that's not completely vampire.

You could also consider the angle that vampires aren't trustworthy because they'd use adopted/foster children as blood banks instead of getting an artificial store brand like modern vampires. We have Thomas Elliot to thank for that

The only reason Bruce, a product between a human and a vampire , came to be was because Thomas used his non-creature status and agreed to hire a supervisor (Alfred) at all times

But nonetheless, foster kids Dick, a phoenix, Jay, a werewolf, and Tim, a ghost, have Bruce as their last resort. What starts off as a visceral rivalry bred from distrust, past pain, and cautiousness blossoms in something bigger and easier

[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 1

@daminette-december2019-2020 ​

~Inspiration~

*Emerges from my hole*: oh ho ho~ we have another month of inspiration on our hands!

Next

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

Marinette steps through the portal immediately collapsing; she doesn't drop the transformation until she hears Chat drop down next to her. She calls the transformation of both the Horse and Ladybug miraculous, knowing Chat will close his eyes without her asking, Marinette does the same for him as he calls off his own.

They stay like that, panting on the rooftop. It’ll be sunrise soon, Marinette knows what she has to do.

“He’s moved,” She breaks the silence. Stating the obvious, they’ve known this for months.

“At least he wont be bothering Paris anymore,” Chat laughs, without any humor.

“But Gotham is so much worse,” Marinette groans, “We can’t keep doing this, not like we are, Spots on,”

Marinette stands letting the transformation wash over her while keeping her eyes shut, this will be easier to say without looking at him anyway.

“Chat Noir, hand over your miraculous,” Marinette recoils at the wounded sound he makes, “I have to leave Paris,”

“What? No! Claws out!” Marinette opens her eyes to see Chat, furious and with tears in his eyes, “I’m coming with you!”

She thought he would say that. Probably would have hurt if he didn’t.

“I can’t just ask you to leave your life, your friends,” Marinette chokes up, “Your family,”

“And what about you?!” Chat says with such heartbreaking sincerity, “Who will you be leaving behind!?”

“... Everyone,”

But she had put it off for too long. Hawkmoth slowed his attacks in Paris months ago, they thought he was giving up… then he attacked Gotham. The attacks in Paris stopped. The ones in Gotham were so much worse. She thought… she thought she could keep it up, jumping through a portal every time Gotham needed her. It was the best of both worlds. Her family and friends were safe and she could still defeat Hawkmoth. But nothing was ever that easy. Gotham needed her, completely, with undivided attention. Paris didn’t. Gotham needed Ladybug more than Paris needed Marinette.

“Not me,” Chat breaks Marinette from her thoughts, gently holding her shoulders, “I’m coming with you,”

She should argue. She planned to argue, every detail ever rebuttal. But she was weak. Marinette so desperately wanted him to come. To have someone, anyone there for her. No not anyone she wanted Chat by her side. Her partner through thick and thin. The one who would help her take down Hawkmoth. It was so unbelievably selfish. 

She wanted him with her more than she wanted him to live his life here.

“Chat you realize we can’t tell anyone,” They could make the connection, they would try to stop them, or worse, follow them. If they went to Gotham alone at least they wouldn't have a life outside of this, they could focus wholly on taking down Hawkmoth, and maybe finally succeed, “... we have to run away,”

“Bug a boo that's the fun part,” Chat teases, Marinette couldn't see how leaving her friends and family would be at all fun, “... sorry… I know you’re leaving a lot behind,”

“If you do this-”

“When I do this,” Marinette raises a brow at him, he does it right back.

“We should reveal our identities,”

“Oh no, what a shame,” Chat dramatically ‘faints’, “Damn that makes this so much harder,”

“You know what?” Marinette ‘thoughtfully’ taps her chin, “I can probably find a new Chat Noir,”

“No, no! Sorry,” Chat immediately stands back up, “That’s obviously not why I’m doing this,”

“I know kitty,” Marinette smiles, getting him to relax, “But you need to think this over, I’m… I’m going to go pack,”

“Don’t need to think it over,” Chat smirks, “Claws off!”

“Chat! NO!” Marinette yelps, chiding, before actually processing who it was standing before her, “Adrien?!”

“Uhh, you know me?” Adrien stands there so awkwardly Marinette just burst into laughter, “Ummm,”

“S-sorry it’s it’s just,” Marinette held her sides as she kept cracking up, “Spots off!”

Her transformation fell and at that moment Marinette couldn’t even manage to feel any anxiety at him finding out, the ‘o’ face he made was too priceless. Before she could even think of being nervous Adrien also bursts out laughing, the two ending up as wheezing messes on the rooftop. It took a long while and lots of giggling to calm down.

“Well at least I’m not leaving all my friends behind,” Marinette says to the sky, “That is if you still want to come?”

“Meet you here tomorrow Marinette,” Adrien stands up, offering a hand to Marinette, “Same time,”

“See you kitty,” Marinette waves as they part ways, for now. She had a lot she needed to do today.

Marinette doesn't sleep when she gets home. She searches deep in her draws for that special fabric she put aside. Flips through her sketchbook to find that perfect design she did once. Then gets to work making a pattern. It is well past sunrise by the time she is done. She’s late for school. It doesn't matter anymore.

Not running to class for once she makes sure her parents are free later that night. She’d like to spend all day with them, but Marinette wants to see her friends one last time. She stuffs her bag with all the presents she had made her friends for future birthdays. Might as well give them now. Lila smirks at her as she walks into class, Marinette would usually worry. It doesn't matter anymore.

“Hey girl, I was wondering, Lila said some-” Marinette cuts her off, handing Alya a pile of wrapped gifts.

“Hi, sorry I’ve been busy, kind of went into a design frenzy,” Marinette laughs sheepishly, “I was going to give them at your birthday, but I just couldn't wait,”

“Awe, girl this is amazing!” Alya holds up the jacket Marinette made a few months ago, she hugs Marinette tight, “See I told you, Lila, Marinette's just been busy!”

“Too busy to make me anything, I’m sure,” Lila says, teary eyed.

“Actually no,” Marinette smiles, enjoying the utterly shocked look.

“I made this to welcome you to the class, but then you went to Achu,” Marinette places it down with open hostility, “And, well, there wasn't really an opportunity after that,”

After that Lila has a hard time trying to twist it against her. Even the complaints that the bandanna is so much smaller than everyone else's gifts is weak as it has beautiful embroidery of a fox and ladybug, everyone cooing over how sweet and personal the design is. Back when Marinette actually believed her lie that they could start over and be friends. It also was hard to turn anyone against Marinette as she handed out presents to anyone that walked through the door. Laughing and apologizing for her absence lately, claiming the whole time she was making things for them.

When Adrien came to class they both tried to stifle their laughter. Marinette only gave him one thing, so as not to be suspicious. It would help to have all new clothes when they ran away, she would give the rest to him then. It was a scarf, one she made a while ago with the new addition of a green cat paw in the corner.

Marinette, for all intents and purposes, felt wonderful for the rest of the day. She caught up with her friends, felt closer to them than she had in a while actually. They talked and laughed, Marinette for once not encouraging them to keep quiet, joking along with them, and taking a million pictures. Madame bustier didn't complain much, after all, she had an all-new makeup bag plus more.

It was fun. And the ‘see you tomorrow’ was hollow.

Marinette was dreading going back home. She asked for a special dinner that night, saying she had a special surprise to show them. And special it was, Marinette had made a new dress for her Maman, a more casual version of her wedding dress, with a special Marinette flare, plus a matching outfit for her Papa. They smiled saying it was beautiful, just as they had with her very first design and everything she made since then. They ate together and played video games together.

Marinette asked to look at old photo albums and they spent the rest of the night pouring over them. If she slipped a few out to take with her, neither noticed.

“I love you both,” Marinette hugs them tight, imagining she’ll never see them again.

Even if they do defeat Hawkmoth, Marinette's not sure she’ll make it through the fight. She could be gone for years, or maybe never return to Paris. Marinette didn’t know if she’d ever see them again, this could be it.

“We love you too,” Her Maman smiles, cupping her cheek, “Now go to bed we don't want you to be late for school tomorrow,”

Sorry I will be

Marinette just nods, hugging them one last time before heading upstairs. She packs her bag, full of newly brought or made clothes, clothes for Adrien, food, and whatever cash she had on hand. She leaves a note, saying there's something she has to do, that she loves them both and this is in no way their fault, not to look for her but Marinette doubts they’ll listen. She grabs her bag and the miracle box, saying goodbye to her home and disappearing into the night with Tikki.

By the time she meets up with Adrien Marinette is a sobbing mess. They hug each other. Adrien's not crying but she can sense the deep sadness in him. Tikki hugs her too, getting Marinette to calm down.

“So what’s the plan?”

“Go to Gotham,” Marinette shrugs, that was really the extent of it.

“We have nowhere to go,” Chat hums, trying to act nonchalant about everything, 

“I guess this means we’re homeless,” Marinette shrugs again, she had really only planned this for herself, and none of that seemed like a concern.

“We can find an abandoned warehouse, set up shop,”

“Either way we’re going to be pretty busy,” Constantly on the run, either running from someone or running after someone.

“Well, you know what they say,” Chat smirks, “We’ll sleep when this bastard is taken down,”

“You know it,” Marinette smiles, genuinely this time, “Pound it?”

“Pound it,”

 ---

 “After last week we can indeed confirm these attacks are occurring,”

“Oh sure it wasn't like I told you a month ago,” Jason scoffs, getting glared at by Bruce for interrupting.

“Well you have to admit ‘this guy came and destroyed ten blocks’ is pretty unbelievable when everything’s unscratched,” Tim continues to tap away at his computer, “And now we know the cause,”

The footage was shakily taken from the next building over, partly destroyed. With a bright light everything was fixed.

“Magic,” Dick says needlessly.

“Meta humans,” Batman growls, “Not approved and playing at being heroes,”

“Can we really complain if they fix everything after a fight?” Duke speaks up, “The police didn't even report any casualties, they don’t seem to be rookies,”

“Magic makes them reckless,” Batman shuts the argument down, “More so if they can fix everything, what happens when they can’t?”

“So basically you want them out,” Damian cuts in, there was no point arguing over it for however long, Bruce wouldn't allow them to keep roaming the city.

“Yes,” Bruce fixes them all with a hard stare, making it clear this is an order, “When you come in contact tell them they are to leave or be removed,”

They all agreed. Damian wishes he didn’t have to waste his time worrying about some second rate wannabes thinking they could challenge Batman for the protection of Gotham. They couldn't. What did they have that Batman didn’t?

 ---

 A lot was the answer. 

Or this particular new villain. It didn’t make any sense, usually, first time villains were easier to deal with, but no, here Robin was watching as Batman fought a losing battle against them. It didn’t help that they were brainwashing civilians, turning them against the rest. Robin was given very specific instructions not to harm them. Hard when they had no such orders.

Robin barely processes that Batman is thrown through a building before the main villain is turning to him. At least he could use more drastic measures with the actual villain, unsheathing his sword Robin lunges. He trades a few blows, unfortunately doing less damage than the villain can do with a singular super powered punch. With super strength, magic and Gotham citizens being steadily taken over this was looking more like a Justice league threat by the second. Everytime the villains should be down for the count they got back up, Damian couldn't find their weakness.

Robin knows he took a wrong step as the villain doesn't rush forward to take advantage but shoots out a beam, the same one Damian had just watch turn a civilian against the rest of his family. And he has no leverage to dodge. This would be so much worse than the civilians, setting his strength against the others? Without concern for killing them? Would Damian remember?

“Watch out!” A wire wraps around Robin, yanking him out of the way. He falls at someone's feet the wire slipping away, he can hear it whirling above him. 

Damian sits up, looking to who grabbed him, ready to fight if necessary, and- Loses his breath.

She's standing over him protectively, a makeshift wire shield repelling the beams that had been causing them so much trouble with ease. Like it was second nature. She looks down at him and smiles so gently, without a hint of fear or worry. Promising she has everything under control.

There's something to be said of Batman's intimidating, steady nature. It can put people at ease in its own way and be even more effective at cutting down enemies with a glare. But this? This is warmth, assurance, a steady appearance more in line with Wonder Woman yet still completely it’s own.

“You alright?” She holds out a hand for him.

Damian snaps out of it taking her hand startling at how she actually lifts him up without any effort on his part.

“Chat you ready?”

“Ready my Lady!”

My lady? Who’s Chat?

His answer comes a second later as a spotted container comes crashing down, fracturing the street. In an instant, the wire wraps around the container a hundred times over.

“Now!” My Lady commands.

“Cataclysm!” Chat yells out, the container crumbles under his touch, wire moving in to constrict around the villain.

The villain thrashes, still being able to send out beams wildly and with their minions closing in. Chat breaks off to fend them all off while Robin tries to catch his breath, Batman still in the rubble of a building. My Lady can’t hold the villain back and fight at the same time. Damian struggles to stand up and help her.

“Lucky charm replay!” 

Robin cringes at the bright light then watches as another spotted object falls into her hands. It’s a bent tube she looks around for a few seconds before holding it up. Damian rushes forward as a beam races towards her and she makes no effort to dodge. She catches it with the tube sending it back to the villain, it hits them square in the chest with no effect. Lady nods to herself before doing the same with the next beam. This time robin watches as it misses the villain, grazing their ear and sending their ear peice flying off.

“Chat!”

“On it!” Chat Noir catches the earring from midair, calling cataclysm again turning it to dust.

Damian watches not willing to let his jaw drop as the hideous villain transforms into a normal civilian. It’s such an intriguing sight that Robin startles when something flies towards Chat Noir snatching a purple butterfly from the air and pulling it back to My Lady. A few seconds later a white butterfly is flying out a… yo yo?

“Bye bye little butterfly,” She waves the glowing white butterfly away.

That was so cute

“Who are you?” Batman demands having just recovered, motioning for them to circle around them.

“Uh, your welcome,” Chat Noir scoffs, helping the previous villain up.

“I am Ladybug, this is my partner Chat Noir,” Partner? “We’re the previous heroes of Paris,”

“Paris has no heroes,” Batman glares at them, civilians around them still closing in Robin turns his defenses towards them.

“Then that makes the past what six? Seven? Years really awkward,” Chat Noir looks at Ladybug who shrugs, a civilian takes a swing at her she dodges smoothly before throwing the pipe in the air.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” Now Robin's jaw does drop as a thousand glowing ladybugs swarm around the nearby buildings, maybe all of Gotham not even leaving a scratch behind.

“Why are you in Gotham now then?” Batman recovers first, civilians nearby blinking back into reality.

“Hawkmoth has moved his operations to Gotham to feed off the negative emotions here,” well there’s plenty of that here “It makes his Akuma more powerful and we can no longer continue to operate from Paris,”

“Then he’s in Gotham now and is my problem,” our problem “I can handle this,”

“Well you did a great job of that,” Chat Noir rolls his eyes, leaning on his staff, “How's your back by the way?”

“Chat Noir,”  Ladybug scowls, then turns to Batman, “You can’t and it’s my responsibility as Ladybug and as guardian of the miraculous,”

“What's that-”

Nightwing is interrupted by a beeping from Chat Noir's ring.

“It would be that, we have to go now,” Chat Noir salutes moving to leave, they tighten their circle surrounding them.

“You will leave Gotham,” Batman demands, this time its Ladybugs turn to glare she tsks and rounds on him, not managing to seem that threatening in her brightly colored costume.

“You don’t know who Hawkmoth is, you don’t know what Akuma are, you don't know about the miraculous, you have no clue about the guardians, you hadn't heard of whats been happening in Paris for years and you don’t know who we are or what we’ve done,” Batman is shocked under the forces of the heroine's righteous fury, “There are things going on here that you don't understand, we are here to stay until hawkmoth is defeated,”

Robin watches as she leaves a shell shocked Batman behind dissapering into Gotham’s night with her partner.

Inspiring

 —-

 “And why can’t they be in Gotham?” Damian demands from him yet again.

“No metahumans,” Bruce sighs, Damian had been unreasonably stubborn on this front, “They only cause more damage,”

“Actually they repaired a lot,” Damian leans over the desk to glare over that him, “And saved you,”

“Go to bed,” Bruce demands, Alfred busy patching up his wounds. Damian scoffs before storming out of the cave, still half in his robin uniform, “Whats wrong with him?”

“I couldn’t say, master Bruce,” Usually for Alfred that meant he knew exactly what was going on. He tied the final bandage before holding the phone out, “There's a call for you,”

Bruce shrugs on his shirt before answering. It wasn't the phone reserved for business so at least it wouldn't be that big a pain in the neck.

“Bruce,”

Never mind

“Talia,” Bruce growls, going to glare at Alfred who had already made himself scarce, “What do you want?”

“Oh please I’m not up to anything sinister,” Bruce can just imagine her waving him off with a smirk, “This time,”

“But you still want something,” Bruce acknowledged, sinister or not she can cause a lot more trouble without being out too.

“A missing person case, a friend of mine got in touch, her daughter ran away yesterday, l thought it would be right up your alley,”

“Why would you tell me this,” There was obviously more to this, there always was with Talia, “And more importantly why do you care,”

“Oh because she’s Sabine's daughter,” Bruce freezes, a million case files and reports flashing through his mind, none of which outlined a daughter let alone a family, “Surely you’ve heard of Sabine?”

“... We’re on the case,”

“Great, good luck~”

Now he has to worry about potentially one of the most dangerous assassins in the world on the loose. A shift in the shadows catches his eye before disappearing. Great. And now the whole family knew, or would soon.

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

Taglist? nope don’t have one, horrible at keeping track of them sorry~

[danny-chase]

Cass stans hating Jason stans because of fanfic is ridiculous. As is Cass stans aren't equally bad of writing classists, ableist, mockeries of Jason in turn. Honestly each group is playing themselves the issue is never the characters its unimaginative writers and people being unwilling to allow characters to have arcs or change.

Look, I don't think you understand how much popular of a character Jason is at this point in time.

Now if you cross search for how many fics these two are in together, you get

Going based off the sheer numbers, I don't think these Cass fans are writing mockeries in return. And even if they were, Jason fans can go read the 36,440 stories about Jason that don't include Cass. Cass fans have 2,370 stories that exclude Jason - which is still big but also less than half of her stories.

Now another metric - if you filter by how many stories are solo stories (excluding all other batfam members you get the following results):

There are only 338 stories where Cass isn't attached to the batfamily. Of course her fans are going to be resentful. Especially if they see fics where Cass and Jason getting along as ooc for Cass. Why would they be busy writing mockeries of Jason when we already have so little Cass content 💀 that would be a waste of time and I've literally never seen it while reading fic. I have seen Cass show up in stories to go - "guys look how sad jason is" and then do nothing else the entire time multiple times - it's not just jason either and they literally did this in canon with Tim. I don't go out of my way looking for it.

Because there's not a ton of Cass fic (of the actually cool badass Batgirl 2000 Cass), yeah people are going to be resentful if they keep clicking into fics where their fave shows up as a human mood ring, despite that never being their canon characterization. And yeah, I'm sure good writers don't do that, but like 90% of the batfam fandom hasn't read her comic, so like what are they drawing off of to write her?

In happy land where Jason gave up killing and didn't commit any serial murders after coming back, sure they can get along. There's my imagination. Cass stans are just resentful that Cass's character is changed for her and Jason to get along in most of the fan works about the two - and that's completely reasonable imo (like wouldn't you be mad/resentful if Jason was a fluffy stuffed bunny hug monster in all fics about Cass), and is funny because it reminds me of a popular anti-Bruce rant where Jason stans were hating on Bruce because Jason always has to change for him. So like. Shouldn't be hard to see why Cass stans are upset.

Which is why I look at the discourse and I just laugh because hardcore Cass stans are probably never going to like Jason stans, or want to hear them out, so long as the version of Cass that's currently prevalent is the one showing up in fics/canon

[ellana-ravenwood]

The day he understood what Death means - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : The youngest Wayne makes a shocking discovery...And will need his parents, siblings, and the one and only Alfred, to recover from it. /Drabble.

I don’t know. I was thinking about this. How when you’re a kid, realizing that one day you’ll die, but worst, that the people you love will die, is sort of traumatic...And wanted to write about it. So. Here we are, with little Thomas eh. I hope you will like it :) :

My masterlists blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives​

__________________________________________________

If you have no idea who Thomas is, he appears in those stories (long story short he’s the youngest kiddo, biological of Batmom and Bruce) : The Great Mall adventure, Master of Diaper Shaky steps and bad teaching, Polichinelle, “Go away, you’re confusing my baby”, Wild Child 2, “We want them back”, How do you make babies ?“ and Mom got lost again”

                                                   ******

Realizing your loved ones are not immortal for the first time can be traumatic. 

Especially if they’re amazing, if they’re your heroes, if you admire them beyond all measure, if they love you unconditionally just like you love them so damn much, and if you can’t even imagine your life without seeing them every day.

If you can’t even fathom the fact that maybe, one day, they won’t be there when you wake up and go look for them. And that they will never be there again. 

And so it was particularly quite the shocking discovery for little Thomas Clark Wayne, 5 and a half years old, to find out about that certain thing called...”Death”. 

It happened on a moody, rainy Summer day. The weather outside was awful, even for Gotham City. And it meant that Thomas was calmly playing inside, rather than getting up to some shenanigans in the garden. 

His parents were home, it was one of those rare day they both had off. 

Which always filled little Tommy with joy. It wasn’t often he could get them both with him !! In the end, the fact it was rainy outside was good. It meant they’d probably all snuggle up later in the day, and watch a film, a mug of hot cocoa in their hands. 

You would probably throw a blanket over him, and keep him close, sandwiched between you and his dad. His father would fall asleep half-way through the film, which would annoy you and Damian. 

Damian would join for sure. Sitting next to you. Yes. He would. Maybe Tim too, if he wasn’t too busy with college ? Oh he would surely make the time to come. And Cass ? Yes. Yes Cass would be there, sitting in her usual spot, on the floor right in front of you (or maybe Tommy). Because she knew you’d gently run your hand through her hair, and your youngest son slowly took the habit to do the same. Which was so soothing to Cass...Duke would certainly be there, he never said no to a good movie. 

Maybe, because it was a rainy day, Dick and Jason would come too ? Unlikely, but Thomas could hope. He loved having his entire family in one spot. 

They’d ask him to do his “puppy eyes” and convince Alfred to join them too, and not work. 

Alfred had an armchair reserved just for him. Right next to the couch where Bruce would sit, leaving enough space for Ace to lay down (Damian’s dog, Titus, always preferred to be near his master, who would more often than not be sitting next to you, laying his head on your shoulder, even as he was not a child anymore...Yes, Titus sat next to Cass, at Damian’s feet, letting his head fall down in Cass’ laps). 

Ace...Ace didn’t feel well yesterday, and this morning, the “dog doctor” came. 

Thomas heard him say they needed to give him a...an “indection” or something ? (An injection, really) So he’d probably get better. Shots were supposed to get you better or to avoid you getting sick, that’s what you told him. 

His dad looked upset, but it didn’t alarm Thomas much. Because his dad was always upset when him or his siblings would get a shot, he hated going, so it was probably the same thing. 

Come to think of it, Thomas hadn’t seen Ace since the “vekerinarianan” (or whatever it was pronounced) came earlier in the day. 

He suddenly wanted some “doggle” (dog cuddles), and so he put down the toys he was playing with, and went to look for him. 

Maybe, he could also round up the rest of his family so they’d start movie time earlier ? 

Hyped to have some family time, as he considered his dogs family for sure, he went on the hunt to find Ace, and gather everyone else. 

If only. If only he had known...

************

“Aaaace !! Aaace ? Ace boy, where are you ?” 

This was odd. Usually, Ace would come running if he heard the little one’s voice. That dog loved children, and he made it his mission to protect all of them (bonus point if he had some snuggle, and a few treats, while doing it). 

Bruce told him long ago to protect his kids...So Ace was always there. 

Maybe he wanted to play hide and seek ? Thomas would play that game with Titus and Damian, Ace never seemed very interested, but maybe he changed his mind ? 

“Ace ? Aaaacceeee ?” 

The boy roamed the manor, but every room Ace would usually hang in were empty. 

Finally, he decided he’d ask his parents, who would usually hang out in...oh, they weren’t in their usual spot either. In their bedroom, maybe ? 

Thomas ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, sure that he would find Ace, and his parents, asleep in the master’s bedroom. When they had their day off, his mama and daddy would often take long naps together.  

Thomas immediately knew something was wrong when the door to the room was wide open. Slowly, he approached the place and...surely his parents were there. 

But something was off. 

His dad was laying in the bed, back to the door, his head laid in your lap. One of your hand was caressing his head soothingly, while the other was drawing calming circles on his back. 

Definitely something was not normal. You’d do that to your kids when they were sad, or sick...Was daddy sick ?! This gave Thomas a little fright. 

You whisper something into Bruce’s ears, and he doesn’t answer, just shaking his head to say “yes”. And so you stand up, after giving him a kiss on the cheek, and...You spot your youngest son. 

You smiled at him reassuringly, and go to him. 

“Hey little buddy. You should give a big hug to Daddy, he’s very sad today.” 

You say, walking past him and ruffling his hair. 

From the direction you were taking, you were going to the kitchen, and Thomas just instantly assumed you were going to brew some tea for his dad. When Bruce was sad, you’d always brew some tea for him, from his mother’s garden (which was kept up nice and clean by you and Alfred, now). 

Worried about his dad, Thomas slowly walked to him and climbed on the big bed. Bruce turned around to see what this new weight was, as he knew you had just left and...He smiled. 

Of this wide pure genuine smile he gave his family only. 

But there was a hint of sadness behind his eyes, and Thomas didn’t like that one bit. So the little boy crawled to his dad, and nestled next to him, wrapping his little arms around his dad’s neck and holding tightly. 

Bruce engulfed his son in his own arms, holding onto the little one, burrying his face in his hair. There was always something comforting, in the smell his kiddo had. It was a mix of your smell, which was always soothing to him, but also something more...Something soft and sweet. 

Just like his son. 

Little Thomas was the epitome of a sweet child. It was a miracle, a man like him made a child this cute and happy. Ah, but he wasn’t raising him alone of course. There was you, and his siblings, and Alfred... 

After a pause of the little boy holding his dad, he whispered slowly : 

“Daddy, why are you sad Daddy ? Please don’t be sad, it makes me sad too.”

Thomas unwrapped his arms from around his dad’s neck, and squished his little hands on Bruce’s cheeks. Which made Bruce sigh fondly, chuckling a little as he said, honestly (he shouldn’t hide this sort of things) : 

“Because Ace is gone.”  

There’s another silence, during which Thomas tries to understand why is the fact Ace went somewhere so sad. He cannot figure it out, so he asks : 

“But, he’ll come back daddy. Like always. Yes ? Ace is a good boy.” 

“Was.”

Bruce is clumsy in his grief. He always been. He’s not sure how to broach the subject to his son, how to explain to him their dog was just too old and sick to make it...He doesn’t know how to explain death to him. 

“Was ?” 

“Ace is gone for good.” 

“What do you mean Daddy ? Where did he go ? Why couldn’t we see him again ? Did he move out, like Dick ?” 

Oh. Oh the sweet innocence of a child that is maybe a little too sheltered by his family (he’s the youngest, the one they’re trying to keep away from the horror they see every day as much as they can...Although he’s still trained, all of them hope he will never become a Robin, or worst, a Batman). 

“Did he move out, like Dick ?” 

Sweet, sweet Thomas. Not able to even fathom that Ace is never coming back...and why would he ? How could he know what his father meant ? 

“No, no he didn't move out. He left us, to a place we can’t follow him to.” 

Another short pause. And you could see the gears in little Thomas’ head turning. After a little bit, he asks :

“...The toilets ?”

This makes his father chuckle, even in this sad times. But he continues : 

“No. Not the toilets. He...He went really far away, where we can’t ever see him again.” 

This idea is so foreign to your son, that he raises himself on one of his elbow and exclaims : 

“Why would he do that ? Does he not love us anymore ?” 

Obviously, the thought is distressing to the little bird. So Bruce says : 

“No no no, of course he still loves us...loved, us. But he had to go.”

“But why ?” 

“Because he was getting very old, and sick.”

“But we don't mind daddy, right ? We don’t mind ? He doesn't have to go away for that, I don’t care if he doesn’t play like he used to, I want him to stay ! Tell him daddy, call him on the phone to tell him to come back.” 

Bruce is lost. How ? How can he explains what death means ? He thought about this moment coming many times, but never told him anything as he thought that he had time to know what it meant. He had time...

How do you tell a child that one of his favorite “person” in the world is dead ?

“Unfortunately buddy, we have some sad news.”

His savior. You, as usual. With two cups of tea, and a cup of hot cocoa on a tray. As you went downstairs to get some “pick me up” for Bruce, you knew your son was gonna need it too. 

“What news mama ?” 

“Ace. He died today.” 

You actually thought about it as you were preparing everything for them. How to talk about this ? You decided to go with “honesty”. Not brutal honesty though. You weren’t about to traumatize your son. 

But you thought it was important he knew what happened to Ace. As a child, you hated how your brothers tried to make you think your ferret ran away to Las Vegas or something of the like. 

You understood this sentiment, of course. But you also remembered how betrayed you felt when you finally understood “death” and realized your beloved Mister Will Ferret was NOT in Sin City having fun, but just died...

The truth was important. 

Especially about such subjects. 

Children weren’t dumb. And they had every right to know certain truth.

Did you wish your son could stay innocent for longer ? Of course. But he still had a right to know what happened to his dog. To be treated like a person and be explained things. 

People, too often, treats children as some kind of idiots who wouldn’t comprehend complex things anyway, and who have to be protected at all cost from anything...

Kids were clever. You had a bunch of them to prove it so. But above that, although you agreed kids had to be protected...You weren't one of those person who thought you should lie to your children in order to do so. 

 Because one day, he’ll know what death is. He’ll know what happened to Ace. And what if the fact you lied that day, settles a slight distrust in him towards anything you’ll ever tell him ? Just like it did with you and your brothers ? 

No. You thought at first it was a good idea to delay such a conversation. But why ? Because it would make you more comfortable ? That didn’t sound very fair in regard of your boy.

Everyone always talked about “the birds and the bees” talk, but never about something that was even more inescapable than that...

Death. 

You give him a few seconds to take in your words. “Ace died today.” You wait for his reaction. He seems to think about it, having vaguely heard of “death” before...finally he asks : 

“What does it mean ?” 

He’s sitting up in the bed now. Bruce did the same, encircling his arms around his boy protectively (old habits die hard). But he’s determined to explain things to him too. You and Bruce were always rather in sync, about how you should raise your children. 

“It means he will no longer be with us. He passed away to something else.” 

“To what ?” 

“No one really knows.” 

“Will we see him again ?” 

“No.” 

“Why ?”

“Because he’s dead.” 

“And being dead means you can’t see anyone anymore ?”

“Being dead means you are not living on this Earth anymore, so yes, you cannot see them anymore.” 

“It means we can’t see him ? And what do you mean not on Earth ? Is he in Space ? Can we see him if we go to the watchtower ?” 

“I mean in our life, we will not see Ace again. He won’t be with us ever again. He’s not in space, he’s just gone.” 

“Because he’s dead ?” 

“Because he’s dead.” 

“So, being dead means we don’t get to see someone ever again ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ever ever ?” 

You decide to leave any conversations about a possible after-life aside, as it’s clear this, he’s not quite old enough to comprehend. So you keep on talking about the truth, with the support of Bruce. 

“Yes. Ever ever.” 

It takes Thomas a few minutes to take in all those new informations. Bruce is sitting on the bed, legs crossed, behind the boy. And your son is clearly lost in deep thoughts...Up until finally, finally tears are starting to well up in his eyes. 

“But I didn’t even say goodbye !”

“Unfortunately, we don’t always get to say goodbye...” 

“But mama, how will he know I loved him so much if I didn’t even say goodbye before he left ? How could you let him go before I did ?”

“I’m sorry, if I could chose I would’ve-...He knew you loved him and-”

“Are you going to die too ?!”

The dreaded question. Dreadest of them all, really. But you can’t lie to him. Not now that you started to explain things. 

“Yes. Everyone dies one day.” 

“But but but...but I don’t want you to die ! And Daddy ?” 

Bruce nods, and...and that’s when it finally happens. 

The awful moments your sweet innocent boy realizes what death sort-of means. That one day, none of his parents will be in his life anymore. Than one day, he’ll lose his siblings, and Alfred. 

Just like he lost Ace. Because he was “old and sick”. But...Thomas knew a lot of sick people ! And a lot of old people ! Were they going to die too, without him being able to say goodbye ?!

And so the tears started to fall. And oh, oh did they fall. 

Bruce held his son against his heart, drawing soothing circles on his back, just like you usually do. And you came to sit next to them, encircling them in your arms as well. 

Thomas was trying to talk, but nothing came out very clearly as he cried, cried, cried and cried some more. 

When he finally calmed down, he was slowly falling asleep, crying drained him of all his energy. That night, there was no “movie time”, but comforting snuggles with his parents... 

Thomas had finally discover what “Death” meant.

************

“Oh my God Thomas !”

Bruce’s heart drops.

The entire scene goes in slow motion, and the fearless Batman can see his entire life flash in front of his eyes, as his tiny son is running towards him, while a few thugs were about to shoot automatic weapons at him...

“There’s a kid ! There’s a kid !”

“Who cares, we have the bat right at our mercy, just shoot !”

“I can’t shoot a kid...”

“Should we shoot ?”

The few seconds of surprise after Thomas bursted in allow Damian to swoop down, and to get rid of everyone. Slowly, a serious face on, your son walks to his dad and, solemnly, he says :

“This was too close, father. And...Thomas...”

“I know Damian, I know.”

Your little boy was inconsolable, clinging to his dad.

They didn’t even have to ask him how he got there. It was obvious he somehow snuck into the Batmobile (which wasn’t that much of a surprise, although it was already quite a feat...Thomas was small, but also very stealthy, as he was taught to be).

He was only five, and it wasn’t really clear to him yet his dad was that “Batman” everyone talked about, that his siblings were also vigilantes...But he knew that when they went out at night, they were often in danger.

And that night. That night right after the one Thomas learned what Death was...He snuck in the car, so he would make sure “she” would not take her dad away ! Or her brothers and sister !

Only Damian and Bruce were in the car, on patrol together. The rest of the kids were scattered across the city, and you were taking care of the bat computer (nowadays you were the one doing so to give some relief to Alfred).

Thomas took the habit to fall asleep in the cave, in a bed there just for him...and he must’ve snuck into the car. 

It was nobody’s fault. It was very unlike the boy, to do such a thing.

He got into the car. When Damian and his father got out of it to apprehend a few of Two-Face’s thug, he stayed behind, looking at what they did...but when he saw those men about to shoot his dad (a proper ambush), he jumped out, punching every buttons (which was quite dangerous itself) to find which one opened the door, and then he ran to his dad...

The surprised probably saved Bruce. But it also almost killed him with a heart attack. 

What if those men didn’t hesitate long enough for Damian to take care of them ? What if they shot anyway, ignoring the surprising appearance of a small child ? What if they had recognize who that kid was, too ? (Unlikely, this was a time where Thomas was still quite sheltered from media, as you tried to give him a childhood as normal as you all possibly could). 

What if they shot anyway...

Bruce doesn’t think he would’ve survived the death of his youngest son. He was sure, actually, that he would’ve killed those men. 

That is, if Damian didn’t do it first. 

But it didn’t happen. It didn’t happen, but it was so close. So close. 

Later, when everything calmed down, Thomas would explain he jumped in the car to “keep death away”, to protect his daddy and brother. To make sure Death wouldn’t take them. 

And that's when you all understood Ace’s death, and the discovery that everyone dies one day, one way or another, truly was “traumatic” for your baby. 

From that point on, you made sure that Thomas would be in the cave...but this event. This event really unfolded a problem you knew you’d have to tackle truly one day. 

You just had no idea yet how to help your son. 

************

Damian had told Jason the debacle that was yesterday. About his parents explaining to their little brother what it meant to be dead. And about how it lead to Thomas sneaking into the Batmobile and running in front of danger to “protect” his dad. 

Because of where he grew up, Damian always knew what death meant. And he never cared much (or convinced himself he never cared much). He understood from a very young age what all this shenanigans was...

Jason did too. He found his mother, dead, when he was three years old. He grew up surrounded by death, in the gutter of Gotham. He knew. He did. 

But Thomas. 

Thomas was a “normal” 5 years old boy, as normal you can be in such a family. He trained a little, and sort of knew about his dad being “Batman” (but it seemed he didn’t understand he was ACTUALLY the Batman people talked about in the city). 

He spend most of his nights in a little area made just for him, with a bed and such, in the batcave (he hated sleeping upstairs alone, so he would sleep in the batcave and you’d pick him up to bring him in  his bed once you’d go to bed, and/or once the rest of your family would get home). 

So for a little one like Thomas, who was pure and sweet and nice...It was a shock, to know one day he’d lose the people he loved. 

He was inconsolable, at Ace’s funerals (thrown at the back of the Manor).  

He couldn’t get over the fact he didn’t get to say goodbye, and that he would never play with his dog anymore. 

It made it worst, that Ace’s death made everyone else sad. That dog truly was a member of the family... 

“I know you're feeling very sad. I'm sad, too. We all loved Ace so much, and he oved us, too.”

You told him a few times, tryin to put words on his emotions and helping him understand...God, to Damian, you truly were the most amazing mother. Always knew what to say, how to say it, when to say it.  

But Thomas was still blue, and it was so unlike his usual bubbly personality. 

And so, both Damian and Jason made it their mission to distract their little brother, and...it worked. For the most part. It really worked. 

Amongst all his siblings, Damian and Jason were the ones that loved having a little brother the most. Not that the others didn’t, of course ! They just were a little less willing to play for hours on end with a little kid. 

They were rather busy. Jason and Damian always found ways...They were an unlikely pairs at first glance. Most people would think Damian was the closest to Dick, and Jason too. But no. They were equally as close to all their siblings, in different ways. 

But Damian and Jason, they had an extra connection. Jason was there, when Damian was a baby. He didn’t remember his own name, and was used by the Al’Ghuls after they resurrected him...But he was still one of the only person in Damian’s life that truly valued him. 

Fate, right ? A funny thing. After all, how small did the world have to be for two of Bruce’s sons to meet in such a way ? A hidden son, and one he thought dead, at that ?! 

In any case. They were closer than most would think. And they also were linked not only by the Al’Ghuls, but by how they were both ripped off of an actual childhood, and therefor wanted to make sure their little brother had one too (Cass was the same, but more subtle, and discreet). 

And so...

They played, made art pieces, jigsaw puzzles, watched his favorite movies, cooked...Anything to take his mind off of “Death”. 

That little boy would overthink too much, for such a young age. 

But overall, Damian and Jason did a good job distracting him from the pain. 

They did an amazing job. 

You were so proud of how they took care of their baby brother (and it would give yourself more time to go cheer up the “Oldest Wayne”, your dear husband, who definitely had a hard time getting over his dog’s death...). 

Only, there was one problem...And that problem was that neither Damian nor Jason, just like everyone else, were immortal. 

And this, this, Thomas would realize very soon. 

************

“More compresses, Master Tim !” 

“On it Al !” 

The loud noises woke Thomas up. You knew. You knew you should’ve gone up to bed earlier. Tuck him in, and wait for your family to come back. 

Ah. But when they all arrived in the cave, ALL of them, including Dick who did not live at the manor anymore...You knew there was a problem. 

And indeed. Jason had been badly hurt. Not something that couldn’t be fixed, but ah, once again, too damn close. 

Everyone was on the tail of a high profile serial killer, the newcomer called “Dr Pyg”, and...Collateral damage. It happened, in this line of work. 

It wasn’t easy. Especially when it was one of your baby. But you had to keep a leveled head, as you helped Alfred fix your boy. 

You had taken medical trainings early in in your relationship with Bruce. For obvious reasons. And there was rarely a day it didn’t come in handy. 

In any case, all the noises around woke Thomas up. 

Before. Before he knew what death truly meant, he would’ve been worried. He would've cried. He would’ve been distressed. Of course. 

And one of his siblings would’ve taken care of him, reassure him, soothe and console him, and little Thomas would be ok again. 

Before he knew what death truly meant. 

He was so small anyway, most of the time he’d forget things, or just not understand them...but he was five now. Close to the age of reason. And definitely aware of his surroundings enough now to pay attention, and remember things. 

And he knew what death truly meant. 

He clung to Jason for dear life, even as everyone reassured him he was actually ok. Jason himself was conscious, he had been badly hurt but nothing he hadn’t seen before. 

He needed some rest for sure, but it was fine, really. 

It wasn’t fine for Thomas. He yelled, threw the biggest tantrum he ever threw, yelled some more that they should stop. That he didn’t want them to die. That whatever they were doing...He begged them to stop. 

Never before in your life, had any of you witness Thomas being in such a state. He was inconsolable. You couldn’t calm him down, no matter what...

And once more, it’s only because of exhaustion that he finally relaxed. But yet, still in his sleep, he clung to Jason’s sleeve, as if afraid his brother would be gone when he’d wake up. 

It tore yours and Bruce’s heart apart, to see your baby like this. But to be honest...neither of you knew what to do...

************

“Where’s Damian mama ? Where is he ?” 

Thomas was truly panicked. 

The first day, he thought maybe his brother was busy with school and such. The second day, he started to worry. But now ? Three days in a row with Damian not at the dinner table ? Or in his room ? Or in the batcave ?! 

It made Thomas anxious. What happened to his brother ? Was he...was he...DID DEATH TAKE HIM AWAY ? 

“Where’s Dami mama ? Where is he ?!”  Thomas kept asking, crying. And it took you moment to finally realize what your son must’ve thought. When you did, you picked him up and calmed him down, explaining Damian was simply over at Jon’s for a few days... 

And from that day on, you’d make sure to tell him why anyone would be gone for any amount of time. 

That night, Bruce and you talked about what you could do to help Thomas get over his consuming fear of losing one of you. 

But nothing really came to your minds. 

And it was awful, to feel like a failure like that. 

Later on, your Damian would tell you you were NOT failing at parents because you were a little lost about this. After all, none of your other kids got into quite a crisis like this one. He said maybe considering a therapist could do ? But oh, oh Thomas was so little. 

And if words were out that Thomas Wayne, barely five years old, was seeing a therapist ? The scandals would be unending, and would it really help your son ? 

Damian joined in in the search for a way to soothe his baby brother. He never said “no” to cuddles from him, but lately...Lately, Thomas almost became overbearing, as he made sure he’d always sort of have his eyes on everyone. 

And it wasn’t healthy, for such a little boy to worry so much. 

Damian missed his carefree baby brother. He knew he had to eventually grow up, of course, and that he’d have some hardships but...he was just five and a half ! He wasn’t suppose to be so scared of death ! 

And so he thought, nights and days, of a way to soothe him. But just like you and Bruce, this matter was quite delicate...

************

It seemed like Cass was the only one able to truly console him, and make him relax. She would sing him songs, just like you did to her when she felt sad. 

She would tell him tales of Death as a good thing, inspiring herself from many legends from around the world. 

She would try to put perspective on everything, in a way you truly admired. 

She never spoke too much, your Cass...But when she did, every words were carefully chosen and crafted into truly beautiful things. 

And it would soothe your boy. 

But only as long as he was with Cass. And he couldn’t always be with her. 

You didn’t have her talent to tell those tales, and your singing was working only for a few moments to put him to sleep but...you couldn’t always have him sleep. You had to think of more viable options. 

Nonetheless, when Thomas was really too anxious, Cass would be there. 

Relieving everyone of their worry, as she could calm her baby brother in matter of seconds. In those  moments, you wished time could stop. You truly did...

************

Thomas would cling to you and his dad the most. His siblings were often out and about, but you two ? Well you took some time off to be with your youngest son, to be there for him in this odd times...

And you weren’t sure it was such a good idea, in the end. 

He would often just snuggle up to you or Bruce, listening to your heartbeats, which would calm him...You’d normally never say no to hugs from your children. But this was all starting to become so unhealthy for the little one. 

What could you do ? What could you do ?!

************

Duke was panicking. 

Thomas was doing fine today, and Duke felt like he royally fucked up. 

Thomas was worried about Duke, telling him to be careful and that his heart would break if Duke ever died...Which melted Duke’s heart. 

It made him feel so loved and accepted. And he wanted to help little Thomas so much...

That’s when he made a rookie mistake. 

After all, he was still quite new at this “big brother” thing. 

“There are things worst than death.” 

Is what he told him. What was he thinking ? Reflecting on things, Duke realized he didn't think it through. To him, it was a soothing way to say death wasn’t that bad. But...Ah, ah it made Thomas cry. 

“What ? What is worst than not seeing you guys ever again ?!”  

At that moment, Duke hadn’t realized quite yet how much he fucked up. So he said : “Well, my parents can't remember me, can’t remember who they are...They’re not dead, but they’re not here anymore. They’re physically here, but they don’t know me, they don’t know how to hug me, they can’t be my parents anymore...Yet they’re still alive.” 

The horrified look on Thomas’ face is what gave him a hint that this really wasn’t a good thing to say...

“No no no wait Thomas, don’t cry please, I was trying to tell you...Wait Thomas, please, no. Oooh buddy, buddy I’m so sorry.” 

It almost made Duke cry too, to witness the one he considered his little brother in such distress. He wasn’t trained for this ! He wasn’t trained for this !!!

This was the first time Duke truly felt like an older brother, truly felt like he understood this important role. He had to think before saying something. He had to protect his baby brother. He had to find ways to soothe him...

“Ok here we are, here we are everything is a-okay, you’re ok, things will be ok...” 

Duke picked Thomas up, and started to rock him back and forth slowly, just like his own mom did to him...He mixed the way his mom used to put him to sleep, with your soothing singing. With words he borrowed from you. 

“I’m here, I’m here. Don’t worry I’m here, I won’t go anywhere. Things will be ok baby boy, things will be ok. You’re gonna be ok. I’m not going anywhere. I didn’t mean any of it...” 

Duke had been living with you for a while now. He came to see all of you as his second family, even as his parents were still alive, and a constant chain holding him back at times...a chain that broke right at this moment. 

Thomas was his little brother. He truly was. 

And Duke was determined to be there for him. Especially after he made him cry. 

“It’s ok Tommy, cry all you want. It’s ok to cry. It’s ok to cry.” 

You always told him that. It was ok to cry. To be angry. To want to break everything. To want his mom...

But you were his mom too now. You were. And you had such a way with words. Such a soothing touch. Even as he was grown up now, you always knew what to say. You always did. 

“You’re ok, right ? Yeaaaah you’re ok. See, things are fine, we chill, we chill.” 

Duke was slowly swaying from left to right, Thomas in his arm, slowly lulling him to sleep, calming him down. His voice seemed to have the same effect than yours...Because he was calm. And because he meant it.

The love. 

The love he had for this little boy. 

It poured out of him, easily, naturally. 

He loved that kid so much. And he wanted him to be ok. And it seemed like Thomas ? Thomas felt it. He felt the love. Just like Duke felt the love of all of you...

That little bean put himself in such a state at the mere thought of Duke dying, of one of his brother leaving...And Duke. Duke realized he felt the same. 

Couldn’t imagine any of them dying. 

And so he poured love in his every word, and swayed from side to side, calming Thomas, and making sure he knew...He knew that, he was right there. 

Right there. 

************

“You’re getting old, Alfred.” 

You said jokingly, as you beat him at chess. And oh. Oh what a mistake you just did. 

“Old ? I don’t want you to die Alfred, I don’t !” 

Thomas was playing next to you. You hadn’t thought about his “trauma” for a little while as he seemed to feel a little better lately...But oh, he plunged right back into it there. 

Because of you. You felt absolutely awful...

“I’ll fight Death for you Alfred ! I will ! I won’t let her take you !!” 

It took a while, as it became usual now, to calm him down. He was ready to throw hands with Death. Fierce that no one would take his “grandpa”. But he was still very scared and sad...

“I’m a terrible mother...”

You told Bruce that night. And he held you against him, consoling you, saying it wasn’t your fault and that it was just friendly banter with Alfred as usual...

“You are the literal opposite of a terrible mother, my love.”

“But Broosh, I made him- I-” 

You sniff, unable to control your sobs as you remember your poor little boy holding Alfred and yelling at Death she can’t take him. The poor butler himself didn’t even know how he could do anything to calm him down...

“We’ll find a solution my love, we’ll find a solution...” 

This entire night, Bruce stayed up although he was exhausted, so he could soothe you and take care of you. Skipping patrol (knowing though the city was safe with his children out). 

At some point during the night, Thomas came to your room. 

It was often, lately, that after a nightmare he’d come running to you. His nightmares would often be about losing you...

You had finally fallen asleep, in your husband’s arms, and Bruce gestured to your boy to not make too much noice. 

Sweet little Thomas acquiesced, and slowly came to the bed, taking the hand his father gave him. 

Bruce was about to fall asleep too, knowing you had finally found sleep...But now, he wasn’t going to. Not until he made sure his son was asleep as well. 

All he could do for now, was being there for you two. Try to soothe you as best her could. As best he could...

Sleep was restless and full of nightmares. 

************

Dick would try to often visit his parents and siblings. As much as he could, which wasn’t always easy, with his work in Bludhäven. But nothing is more sacred than family...He realized that over the years.

During those moments, it would be rather normal for Thomas to go settle in his oldest brother’s laps. He would make the most of seeing him.

So today, as Dick was in the kitchen trying to make himself a cup of coffee, it was no surprise when little Tommy came to see him.

You had bought a new espresso machine, and Dick had no idea how it worked...Slowly, his littlest brother came in, dragged a chair next to him, and used it to climb on the counter.

He then started to make Dick’s cup of coffee, without much of a word being exchanged. Dick smiled widely, his little bro was so cute and clever. In no time, he had make a great cup of coffee for him.

But...Something seemed to bother him. Tommy was an exuberant child when around his family, but he had been quiet right there. He didn’t jump in his brother’s arms like he usually does, and he wasn’t telling him all about what he missed since last time he came in !

Was it still this all thing about being worried about death ? 

“Are you ok little wing ?”

Ever since Jason, “Little Wing” or “Bird” became the common denomination for his younger siblings. A term of endearment that they all (secretly or not) loved.

Tommy seemed to think a little, while raising his arms, signifying he wanted Dick to pick him up.

Dick did, of course, and they went to sit at the kitchen counter, and as usual, Tommy settled down on Dick’s laps. He turned around and, after another short pause (Dick always knew when to stay silent, and wait for the other person to speak first) said :

“Dickie, are mom and dad not your mom and dad ?” 

“Mm ?” 

“Your real mom and dad, they died ? You can’t see them no more now ?”

There was a lump in Dick’s throat. Not because he thought about his parents no. He actually came to peace with their death long ago now. And though he missed them every day, it didn’t hurt as much as it used to. 

He was lucky to find another loving family...From which that little worried kiddo in front of him was an important part of. 

“Yes, I can’t see them anymore.”

“It hurts ?” 

“It used to. Now less. I miss them, but I wasn’t alone.”

“Because you have our mom and dad ?”

“Yes.” 

Dick ruffles his hair fondly. 

“Do you wish you’d still have your real mom and dad ?”

“Mom and dad ARE my real parents too. I was lucky enough to find new ones. Not everyone is as lucky, like dad. He was alone for a long time” 

“What about Alfred ?” 

“It took dad a while to realize that Alfred was a second father to him” 

“So...Will you be my second dad if dad goes ?” 

Dick feels another lump in his throat. Bigger this time. 

He couldn’t even imagine the day he’ll lose this “second dad”, this one he had now called “dad” for longer even than his own biological father...Dick was 8, when he came into yours and Bruce’s life. 

He spend more  years with you two than with his “real” parents. You never replaced them, no. You just..became his parents too. 

He would never forget his biological parents. But he would never diminish the impact his adoptive one had. The love you and Bruce gave him. 

Would he be good enough to be Thomas “second dad” ? After all, he currently had about the age Bruce had when he adopted him...

But Dick couldn’t imagine losing Bruce too. Losing another father. No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. 

Thomas was already moving on, asking more questions : 

“Will I find another mom and dad too if mom and dad die ? Or will I be alone like dad ? Will I have Alfred forever ?”

“I-I don’t know buddy.”

“What if I lose all of you at the same time ? I will be all alone then.” 

“You won’t.”

“But what if I do ?” 

“I’ll always be there.” 

“You can’t know that, can you ?” 

“Maybe, but this will never happen. You will never be alone.” 

“You really think so ?”

“I Do. And I promise little wing, I promise...You won’t lose all of us. You won’t.” 

Dick held his brother even tighter against him, and missed the unconvinced expression on Thomas’ face. 

************

Your youngest son was still utterly terrified of losing any of you. But his terrible fit would pass now, he would calm down more easily, and wouldn’t cry until exhaustion...But it didn’t mean he wasn't afraid anymore. 

Unfortunately. 

“Death” was still a constant on his mind. One of the biggest question. Without much answers. 

His mother and father said no one knew what happened after “death”, but Thomas wasn’t convinced. So he went to the only one he knew would tell him the truth, and was most likely to know...Tim.

His older brother was currently in the garden, studying for his finals. But oh he’d take a break for his little brother, of course. 

Especially lately, as said little brother was overly worried and needed constant reassurance. 

“Hi Timmy.” 

“Hey little one.” 

“Bothering you ?”

“You are not bothering me, never.” 

“Can I ask you a question then ?”

“Of course.” 

“What happens when we die ?” 

Oof. 

OOOOF. 

Not something Tim could say he expected to be asked. Even as he knew Thomas was sort of obsessed with this lately. And ah...Ah he started to get lost into physiological effects of death, into science, into things Thomas could definitely not understand...

And into things he didn’t care about. 

Thomas had no interest in knowing what happens to the corporeal side of things. To our bodies. He wanted to know where “we” went. Where the being went. The conscience. 

Of course he wouldn’t word it that way, but it was easy to understand that it was what he meant when he said : “where do we go when we die ?”. 

After a long time of Tim getting lost in many complex explanations about decomposition (what the Hell Tim ?), he finally stopped as he saw that Thomas was most definitely lost.  

“Where do we go after we die ?” 

“Yes. What happens ? You must know, you know everything !” 

The faith his littlest brother put in him made him feel warm inside but...unfortunately on this subject he had to disappoint him. 

“I..I don’t know about this, actually.” 

Thomas looked crestfallen. Was nothing sacred anymore ?? Death existed, and the one he thought would always have a solution to everything didn’t know something that important !! 

“There’s many theories.” 

“What’s a theories ?”

“One theory, multiple theories. A theory is...an idea of how things might work.” 

“What are the theory ?” 

“Theories, plural.” 

“What are the theories ?” 

“Well. Some people think that you go into some kind of afterlife. It depends the culture, and the religion, and...many other factors. But there’s usually a few places we can end up.” 

“And we’ll see the people who died there ? We’ll see them again ?” 

“Supposedly so.” 

“Is it sure ?”

“No, it’s just a theory.” 

“You said a theory is an idea of how things might work.” 

“An idea that might not be proven.” 

“What’s the point then ?” 

“Theorizing.” 

“I don’t understand...”

Of course he didn’t, he was a smart little boy...But still just five. Tim sat down to his level, and looked at him in the eyes : 

“Well. You have to understand that um...No one knows what happens after death. So we have to make theories, things that might or might not be. You understand ?” 

“No.” 

“Well, since we don’t know, we make things up. But maybe those things are right. Maybe they aren’t.” 

“So the answer is we don't know ?” 

“Yes. But there are theories ?” 

“Ok. So aside from the place we see others again, what are the theories ?” 

“Well (...)” 

Tim was a patient boy. For hours and hours, he tried to explain every single “theory” people might’ve had about what happens after Death. And Thomas listened carefully. 

Finally, Tim was done, and his brother said : 

“So...No one really knows, and there’s a lot of theory...ies. Theories.” 

“Basically.” 

Thomas looked so discouraged. Tim was very well aware that none of what he told him really helped his brother, or reassured him...But ah. Tim was known to not lie. Which was a good thing. And he couldn’t possibly have a free conscience if he had told his brother just one theory of the after life, the nicest one, just to reassure him. 

Of course, he wanted to reassure him. To distract him. But he would do so another way. Lying to him was not it. 

Still, it was so disheartening to see this sweet little boy so crestfallen. 

“Um, Well...I guess some people know.”

Thomas looked up at his brother, hopeful, waiting for him to continue. 

“Like Constantine. But um, he’s sort of crazy. And dad doesn't want him around the house for...reasons you’ll understand when you’ll grow up. And-”

Ah but Thomas wasn’t listening to Tim anymore, and his monologue as to why maybe John Constantine wasn’t such a reliable source.   

“Constantine” huh ? Interesting. Ah. Sometimes, Tim forgot how smart his little brother truly was...for a five years old. And how he took after his father, when it came to memory and attention to details. 

************

This constant worry went on for quite just a few days. A few very eventful days, that were so...exhausting. Thomas was constantly scared for your lives, and would cry if anyone got hurt too much. 

He would follow you around, and be way too stressed for such a little bean. 

Everyone came to hide their injuries from him, tried to distract him from what they were doing when out as the Bats...But it was becoming a real problem. 

How ? How could they make a little five years old understand that he couldn’t forever be afraid of death ? It was impossible. None of you, not even you, had the right words. There were no right words anyway. 

You could tell him whatever you wanted, it’d never make him stop thinking about Death taking one of you with her, taking one of you far away from him. 

“A place he cannot follow you to.” 

How ? How could you help ?!

But the change had to come from within him, you would soon realize. 

About a week after Ace’s death, and a truly painful few days of everyone being lost and unable to help the baby of the family... he suddenly spoke up, at dinner time : 

“Mama, mama, if one day you die, I will bring you back. I promise. Same for daddy, and Dick, and Jason, and Cass, and Tim, and Duke, and Damian, and Alfred. I don’t know if we can bring dogs back, but humans yes ? And worst case scenario, I’ll conjure your spirit so I can say goodbye, and then I’ll know we’ll see each others again !”

“Wh-What ?” 

“Stunned” doesn’t quite cover how you felt at your son’s sudden tirade, at dinner that night. Everyone was here, a rare occasion. Your one dinner a months that was mandatory for all your kids ! To make sure you’d all have moments together. 

And boom. Came this monologue out of nowhere, from your small little five and a half years old son. 

Stunned. Not a strong word enough to describe you, or your other children. 

But Bruce. Oh Bruce. Bruce was frowning. Narrowing his eyes in a way you knew perfectly well...It meant he was angry at someone. 

“Who told you all this, son ?” 

“Mister Constantine.”

A growl. A scary growl. From deep within your husband’s throat. You would NOT want to be John next time he’d see 

“How did you talk to him ?” 

“I used your phone.” 

“I don’t have his number on my...Wait, the bat phone ?!” 

“Yes. The one you call uncle Clark on !”

“What the-...how did you-ugh ?!” 

There were so many questions. So many. 

“I copied what you do, on the phone. And I asked it if it could call the Constantine.” 

“The Constantine”, this better not be a stupid way he called himself in front of his son, Bruce thought. Ah, and curse the fact he kept having kids that were too damn smart for their own good ! 

Kids this days. Growing up with technology. Able to work a batphobe at age 5 and a half !! 

“Hope I helped little man - John Constantine”, said the note that came to the manor a few days later. Which made Bruce fume with rage, but Thomas beam happily. 

Bruce was already planning to go after John, and force him to say what he told his son. But...But...

To be honest. Whatever he said. You didn’t care. You knew, more than anyone else, that “Death” wasn’t as definitive as it sounded at times. And you knew for certain there was something after you died. What ? You couldn’t be sure. But something. Another place. Or maybe reincarnation ? Who knew. 

Deep in your heart though, you knew that no matter what, if you ever were to die...You’d see your family again. You weren’t sure how or where. It was just a certainty in your heart. A gut feeling. 

Yes. You didn’t care what John told your son. If it could help him accept that everyone will die one day. Didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of losing you anymore. Oh no. But at least...At least he knew worrying about it lead nowhere. And to truly enjoy the moments of the present. 

Whatever John said, it helped your son. That’s all that mattered. And as Thomas would grow up, you knew he’d understand things more and more. 

He already knew he was luckier than many people. He had a loving family. They were all there with him for now (minus Ace, whom he missed every day). A lot of people couldn’t say the same thing. 

Death was an odd thing. Especially in the World you lived in. 

It wasn’t as definitive as some would say.

Your family knew that more than anyone else.  

Death was an odd thing, that wasn’t always the ultimate end...

This, one day, Thomas would truly understand. 

The end 

__________________________________________________

And here we are :). Just a quick thing again, my bigger story (fake boyfriend trope with Bruce hehe) is coming soon. But in the mean time, felt compelled to write about this. I hope you enjoyed reading it, and liked it ? Not my best work :/, another quick drabble written very late at night eh. But nonetheless, fun to write ? Hope it’s not a disappointment, it’s just a thing to make ya wait for a more elaborate thing that I took a lot of care writing. Anyway it’s 4 am, time for bed :).

If you did, don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback or/and to reblog :). If you didn’t as well really, it’s always good to know what’s not good so I can improve (just stay civil please). 

PS : Bonus point if you get where I’m trying to arrive at with those last few words about how definitive death is :p. 

[that-thing-that-feeling]

it definitely feels like the writers don't enjoy/understand writing certain characters and relationships (definitely jonathan/jancy but a few other examples come to mind) but instead of taking the effort to approach them in new interesting ways the writers just either change everything or sideline them. and the worst part is it feels like this works for broad audiences who just see this as the "steve/dustin/hopper/el show". dont get me wrong i love those characters, it's just the best part of the show to me was the ensemble, and it sucks to see s1 characters get treated like this and that only a fraction of the audience seems actually upset about it

I completely agree—write for all of your characters! No original characters should be sidelined like this. Not writing for Joyce, Will, Mike, Jonathan, but giving CW Jason all that time? Just smh.

(I would maybe argue that the El focus is a bit different bc it’s core to the mythology of the show and the UD and it’s also really sad that she’s used by everyone in a way—like those throwaway lines of having this girl with superpowers that would fix everything, without underscoring how much she’s been through for all of them. It’s also though impt that Hawkins gang has to figure out things without her and it makes a lot of sense to me that Nancy assumes a leadership role—wasn’t that scene with her, max, and the drawings great, btw? They needed to have Cali gang be more active/shown more in the plot after El was taken. But back to Hawkins, I’m also so curious why vecna is showing Nancy his backstory—it’s interesting we both get the reasons he went after her are for Barb and also for getting too close to the story, but then why reveal the story to her? Was he bragging in a way? Wanted to torment her? Presumably he wouldn’t want her to have the answers, yet he’s giving them. It was also just interesting to me how ep 7 paralleled El and Nancy—not that Nancy has supernatural powers—but just the way the story was unfolded to both of them was so interesting, as is the question of how on Earth they will get Nancy out of there)

[blackkatmagic]

In labyrinths of reflections?! So excited!

I would love to see a drabble of Harley and Ivy reunion after Marc helps Ivy out of prison. ^^

There's ice cream melting over her fingers, a buzz of green in her veins, and a darkened shack in the middle of the park that’s filled with the sound of hitched breaths.

Ivy tightens her grip on the Arkham-standard prison clothes, takes a breath. The trees around her bend inwards, shivering, and she has to close her eyes against the surge of hope and relief and vicious glee that’s beating like a tattoo in her chest.

The Joker is dead. The Joker is dead. He’s dead and gone and an old god ate his heart, so it’s safe to say that he’s never coming back.

Just for that, she would walk barefoot over broken glass and take a swim in weed killer, the moment Moon Knight asked her to.

Harley is crying, and Ivy should likely feel worse, should mourn the pain if not the man. But she doesn’t, she can't. Harley is free of him, Gotham is free of him, and it’s a fierce, bloody, vicious joy in Ivy’s chest, the knowledge that he died and suffered. Not just for what he did to Harley, but—

That doesn’t matter. He’s dead, because Moon Knight killed him. Moon Knight is like her, like them, mentally ill but forged into a weapon, functionality and purpose and intent, and he killed the Joker. Harley is free because of Moon Knight.

A muffled, trembling sound, and Ivy pushes forward, through the darkened doorway hung with wilted vines and into the moon-striped interior.

There's no movement, no sign she’s been seen. Harley is curled in the corner where Ivy’s bed is half-collapsed and covered in the wild tangle of her citrus trees run rampant, face tucked into her drawn-up knees, her hair down. She’s in loose clothes, Ivy’s baggiest sleeping clothes huge on her small frame, and she’s not audibly crying, but she might as well be.

Silently, Ivy sets both cartons of half-melted ice cream down on the floor, then crosses the small shack and pulls herself up onto the listing mattress. Without pause, she leans in, wraps her arms around Harley as tightly as she can and just—breathes. Lets her hair hide them from the world, just for a moment.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she whispers, and Harley’s breath catches on a sob. She grabs, hauls Ivy in and wraps her arms around her, and Ivy kisses her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her eye as Harley buries her face in her shoulder.

“Red,” she gets out, and the word cracks. “Red, Mr. J is dead. Someone killed him. I'm—I'm so relieved but I'm so sad, an’ I can't stop crying.”

Ivy never attacked the Joker, never confronted him. It would have made Harley angry, would have upset her, and Ivy could never risk losing her. Could never risk pushing her back to the Joker permanently, shutting down her one avenue of escape. She’d wanted to a thousand times, had thought about arranging accidents, or slipping him some poison, but—Harley is clever, and Ivy isn't a good enough actor to fool her. Harley would have realized what she’d done, and maybe the Joker would have been dead, but Ivy would have lost the one person she gives a damn about in the whole world. The trade-off was never worth it.

“I'm not sorry,” she whispers, not about to hide the truth. Harley already knows how she feels, anyway. “I'm glad. Him being dead makes me happy.”

Harley chokes on a sob, fingers bruising against Ivy’s skin, but she doesn’t pull away. Ivy doesn’t try to move, either, just leans in with a sigh, stroking Harley’s limp hair. “Moon Knight broke me out of Arkham,” she says quietly, and Harley stills, frozen, conflicted. There's a long pause, and then a watery breath, and Harley lifts her head.

“’S good,” she says, wiping at her eyes with the heel of one hand. “I know—I know how much you hate bein’ away from the sun, Red. I was gonna try to break you out, but the Bats were keepin’ an eye on me, an’ then Mr. J—”

“I know,” Ivy says, and shifts sideways, pulling Harley down onto the sagging mattress with her. The broken frame creaks dangerously, but Harley snuggles closer, tucks Ivy’s head under her chin and hangs on the with desperation of someone drowning. Gently, Ivy strokes her back, closing her eyes and thinking of a flare of white in the darkness, glowing eyes under the dark shadows of a hood.

When she’d first seen Moon Knight in the hallway, she’d expected a henchman come to break out their master, or maybe a new mercenary hired for a hit. Had only thought about charming him, tempting him in and then using him to escape. And maybe some part of her, impossible to turn off, is still thinking about the benefits of knowing him and the advantages he can provide, but—

He’s like them. He was in an institute at thirteen, and Ivy remembers all too well the long hours sitting in a psychologist’s office when she was a child, head bowed as she listed to the man and her mother talk. Remembers six months in the hospital, alone, desperate, after Jason Woodrue experimented on her.

The incident drove her insane, the files say. Ivy knows; she’s looked them up, torn through them to see what the Bats whisper about her in the darkness, and she’s seen those words printed starkly in black enough times to be burned into her brain. The incident drove her insane, like everyone in the world is one tragedy away from becoming mentally ill. Like Ivy was just sad and angry and that alone was enough to make her unstable. Like being in Arkham will fix her, or do anything but make her angrier. None of the doctors there give a damn about the patients, about anyone, and the ones who try turn out like Harley.

Moon Knight breaking her out and talking to her like a person, looking at her like she’s real and reasonable and not either a crazed villain or a mindless sex object did more to help steady her than her whole stint in Arkham. A little bit of understanding, a touch of his strange, brusque respect, and Ivy felt like she could breathe.

He’s like them, and he does what he thinks is right, not what the laws tell him to do. He’s like them, a little broken and a little crazy and a little good.

With her eyes closed, Ivy can feel the whole of Gotham breathing, the roots beneath the city and the branches spread through it, the weeds creeping up through the cracks in the sidewalk and hundreds of thousands of stately old trees, young and verdant trees, ivy and roses and flowers carefully trimmed and confined. She can feel each step that crushes the grass, the careless cruelty of a tree cut down, the gasping breaths of plants trying to breathe through the pollution. And, if she focuses, she can find a heavy pair of boots, moving more lightly than most across the park. The brush of a white cloak, the way he feels like moonlight on the grass, how the trees bend towards his presence. Like he’s carrying fresh air with him, as clean and cool as a wind across the desert, completely untouched by the smog and rot of Gotham around him.

Moon Knight, she thinks, and smiles, thin and wicked against Harley’s skin. Tightens her arms around Harley, then shoves, rolling them over and straddling Harley, knees locked against her ribs. Harley gasps, but she reaches for Ivy, tangles her fingers in Ivy’s hair and pulls, and Ivy kisses her, kisses her, kisses her, and never wants to let her up for air.

Moon Knight gave her this. Gave them this, even if Harley will never see it as the gift it is. He killed the Joker, set her and Harley both free, and Ivy’s laugh vibrates low in her throat as she cups Harley’s face between her hands.

Like them, she thinks. Moon Knight is one of theirs, one of hers. Ivy’s never been good at limits; everything she’s ever let go of has claw marks in it, and she’s willful, wicked, doesn’t have or want a code of honor of any sort. But—

“I think,” she whispers against Harley’s lips, still smiling, “that I just found my very own knight in shining armor.”

Harley laughs, too, even if hers is a little watery. “Don’cha mean your own Knight Light?” she jokes, and Ivy snorts and kisses her again.

She’ll keep one eye on Moon Knight, whenever he appears. Batman doesn’t like their kind, and he’ll like that Moon Knight broke her out of Arkham even less. Ivy doesn’t accept anyone easily, doesn’t take to strangers, but watching Moon Knight in the park, she felt…different. Wanted something other than to walk away and leave him behind. He’s an ally and an unknown and a god on earth, and Ivy knows a little bit more about that than she should.

He’ll need them eventually. That favor Ivy owes him will be called in. And—it’s not an entirely selfless thing. A steppingstone, maybe, to draw him closer, to pull him in.

Moon Knight doesn’t realize it yet, but if he tries to leave them—leave her—behind, he’s going to have claw marks in him, too.

[On AO3]

[stay-outta-my-blood-circle]

Final set of art details for the VN!

First of all, here is our wonderful team of artists and what they're working on! Give them a follow if you like cool art on your dash :)

@strangeomens-sketch - Jason

@of-devils-and-drawings - Bo & Vincent

@our-sinister-night - Bubba (& family)

@gooreyguts - the Ghostface boys (slightly AU; older, never got caught)

@labellecorbellesansmerci - Thomas (& family) & Secret Guest #2

@icyhazardx - Freddy

@gelicide - Asa

@snaxk - Jesse (& Spann?)

@ghost-thot69 - Brahms

@buttered-ghost-toast - Michael & Secret Guest #1

Parameters

I'm sure we're all familiar with visual novels & dating sims.

As stated before, I'm looking for 3/4 body portraits with transparent backgrounds; size doesn't matter too much because I can resize them in the program (canvas 600x800), but something on the bigger side is better (due to image quality loss if I need to enlarge them).

Poses can remain the same or mostly the same (I'll leave that to your discretion) with varying expressions, which include: neutral, happy/pleased, angry/scary, nervous/embarrassed, sad/disappointed, surprised, and annoyed, in a combination of masked/unmasked depending on the character. (Also, I know we didn't talk in-depth about family members/associated secondary characters, so just let me know if that doesn't work for you.)

Jason - Masked: all (he'll be wearing it most of the time). Unmasked: neutral, nervous, happy, surprised, and sad.

Bo - No mask for him. Add a devilish/sly expression.

Vincent - Masked: all (he'll be wearing it much of the time). Unmasked: neutral, nervous, surprised, happy, and sad.

Bubba - Masked: all. Unmasked: none(? I think he wears his mask all the time? I'll leave it up to you whether you think he'd take it off and whether that's something you want to tackle). For his family, I think I'd just need neutral, happy, and annoyed, depending on the person - again, I'm not super familiar, so I'll leave it to you.

Ghostface - Masked: neutral, angry, surprised, annoyed, happy. Unmasked: all. Add devilish to both categories. (This goes for both boys.)

Thomas - Masked: all. Unmasked: neutral, nervous, surprised, happy. Luda Mae: neutral, happy, annoyed. Hoyt: neutral, annoyed, angry, happy (fake). Monty: just a neutral one should do.

Fred - No mask here either :) add devilish.

Asa - Masked: neutral, scary, annoyed. Unmasked: all. (I usually prefer to use his second actor, conceptually, but I'll leave it up to you.)

Jesse - Masked: neutral, scary, surprised, annoyed. Unmasked: neutral, happy, disappointed, surprised, annoyed. Add devilish to both categories. Spann: neutral, happy, nervous, disappointed, surprised, annoyed.

Brahms - Masked: neutral, scary, happy, shy, sad (fake; dramatic), surprised, annoyed. Unmasked: neutral, happy, sad (fake; dramatic), nervous, surprised, annoyed, devilish.

Michael - Practically always masked and doesn't know what emotions are. Masked: neutral, scary, curious/surprised. Unmasked: same, plus annoyed.

Secret Guests - I'll be in touch privately.

I'll leave expression of those emotions up to your creative direction, but if you've got questions or want to run something by me, just let me know. (If I end up needing something additional as the story progresses, I'll let you know.)

I'm not sure of the timeline - you've got at least a couple months while I get the story written - but I do know I'll need Michael, Thomas, the twins, Freddy, and Secret Guest #1 sooner than the rest, and Brahms, Jason, Secret Guest #2, Bubba, and Ghostface later than the rest.

I will also need Harry Warden at some point in that latter grouping, but since he's not currently assigned we'll cross that bridge later (this way if someone wants to jump in later, I've got something for them). Same for Secret Guest #3, who I just decided to include while writing this post.

If anyone has questions, or if I missed something, or whatever - you know several places to find me. Thanks again for joining the team, I'm honored to be working with you! :)