#grove ventblr

[errorryx]

shitty batman fanfiction

So AO3 went down last night, and my friend @armyanimal156 was in the middle of a fanfiction and couldn’t finish it, so I offered to finish it for him. I used my vague understanding of comic book storytelling from my brief Marvel comics phase in 2019, plus the very minimal knowledge i picked up from some of my mutuals' posts, to assemble this nonsense. This is Damian What’s-his-face’s Journey of Self-Discovery, originally typed out stream-of-consciousness into Discord and then edited into a more digestible format.

Please for the love of god understand that this is not my usual writing style and also I'm not in this fandom and don't know shit about fuck. This is just a very long shitpost. ok enjoy

—

Damian, the newest Robin who was raised by assassins, was about to go on a journey to atone for his sins. He used Batman’s credit card to buy himself plane tickets to Eurasia and Africa, because there was a package deal he saw online or whatever. He decided to fly economy because he had self-esteem issues and thought he didn’t deserve first class.

He arrived in Eurasia, which in DC comics universe is the name of a small country in the continent of Syrup. Unfortunately, when he saw who was waiting for him at the airport, he was shocked.

“Mom?” Damian said. “Dad? Other Mom? That one guy?”

That’s right, it was the four assassins that raised him. The comics didn’t mention the other two assassins, Dad and Other Mom, because they weren’t relevant to the other stories being told. He calls his grandpa “that one guy.” This definitely isn’t someone poorly retconning comic canon into the fic after being told new information or anything like that.

“Yes, Damian, it’s us,” said Other Mom (that’s her legal government name). “We need your help. We’re going to assassinate the President of the United States.”

“No way,” Damian said. “I’ve changed. I fight for justice now.”

“Is that so?” that one guy said. “Then you should know that the President of the United States is actually evil and deserves to die.”

Damian wasn’t sure if he could believe that one guy, because he was a supervillain. But he decided to trust him just this once. He went and found the President of the United States, who was on a diplomatic mission to the small Syrupean nation of Eurasia, and shot him point blank on live television, Joker-movie-style.

Thankfully for Damian, that one guy was telling the truth: the president was evil and everyone had been secretly hoping for someone to assassinate him. People celebrated in the streets, and Batman and Tim and Drake and whoever else called and told him he did a good job. Even better, his mom patted him on the back and told Damian she was proud of him, which made him feel somewhat better about his childhood trauma.

Then, the president came back as a zombie who was impervious to bullets and wanted to eat everyone’s brains. Everyone was very upset about this, including all four of his assassin parents, and Batman, and Drake and Josh. Damian decided his best bet was to run away from his problems instead of facing them like a man, so he used his plane ticket to Africa and escaped.

—

The plane landed in Africa, which in DC comics universe is a small island nation in the Specific Ocean. Damian had never been to Africa before, but it was a popular tourist destination for its pristine beaches and overpriced coconut cocktails. However, after arriving on the island, he quickly learned that everything was owned by a mysterious billionaire known as Bruce Wane, Bruce Wayne’s twin brother who has never been mentioned in the comics before because he wasn’t relevant to any of the stories being told.

After some investigating, Damian learned that Bruce Wane was secretly a supervillain who terrorized the island, who went by the name of Badman (like Batman, but bad). Badman had a sidekick named Robbin. When Damian went up against this pair, Robbin pickpocketed him.

“Hey!” Damian complained. “I saw that! Don’t steal my stuff!”

“Damian,” Badman said in a fake deep voice, Dark Knight-movie-style. “If you want your wallet back, you have to join me. You can be Robbin 2.” Robbin looked upset about this, but didn’t say anything.

“No way, bitch,” Damian said (he gets to say swear words because of his childhood trauma). “Batman is way cooler than you.”

Badman took a few steps back and did a triple backflip. “Bet your stupid Batman can’t do that.”

Damian had to admit that Batman could not do that. “Fine, you win. I’ll join you.”

He followed Badman and Robbin to the Badcave (like the Batcave, but bad). Badman began explaining his plan to take over the world by dropping a bunch of badbombs (like batbombs, but bad) on top of the small island nation of Africa and then the rest of the world.

“That’s a really cool plan,” Damian said. “Can I have the password to your computer? I want to play Roblox.” BECAUSE AS IT TURNS OUT THIS KID IS LIKE TWELVE YEARS OLD HOLY SHIT WHY IS HE FIGHTING CRIME. WHY IS HE ASSASSINATING PEOPLE. WHAT THE FUCK MAN???

So Badman gave Damian the password to the badcomputer (like the batcomputer, but bad), which was, of course, “nanananananananabadman” and gave him unsupervised internet access.

Of course, Damian immediately hacked into the mainframe and set off every badbomb in the badwarehouse (like the batwarehouse, but bad). The Badcave exploded and everything was ruined. Then, Damian revealed that when Robbin was busy pickpocketing him, he was actually pickpocketing Robbin at the same time! He opened Robbin’s wallet and looked through his stuff.

As it turned out, Robbin’s ID picture looked the same as Damian’s, because they were secret TWINS and CLONES and TWIN CLONES. Robbin’s real name was Damien with an E. 

Robbin looked very sad, and he asked Damian if there was a way he could learn to be good instead of bad. “I could take you back to Batman,” Damian suggested. “You could be Robin 2. Actually, more like Robin 27 at this point.”

“That sounds great,” Robbin agreed, and they flew back to Gotham City together.

—

“Jesus Christ, not another one,” Alfred said when they got back.

Batman just shrugged and said, “This might as well happen.”

“It’s going to be really confusing around here if there’s two Damians,” Cass (one of them is named Cass right? or Cath? idfk) said. Everyone decided to call Damian with an e “Dame” and Damian with an a “Ian.” This detail was included despite the fact that it never came up again.

They turned on the news, which was conveniently at the beginning of a report about Badman, who had miraculously survived the explosions. He had now teamed up with the zombie president and vowed to destroy Batman and his league of child soldiers.

The zombie president staged a hostile takeover of the American troops, which was easy because the guy who replaced him was a wimpy loser. Soon the entire US Marines were outside Batman’s house, which apparently isn’t the first time this has happened, but this time they had all been turned into zombies. Which also isn’t the first time that’s happened. Writing an original plotline in DC comics is probably impossible.

So began the epic battle between Batman’s orphanage and the zombie marine corps.

Everything was going well for the good guys, but then Damian got into trouble. It looked like he was about to get seriously injured, until Damien jumped in front of him at the last second to save him, only to get bit by one of the zombies and become infected.

Soon enough all the zombies were defeated, but it didn’t feel like a victory, not when the twinclone kid they met ten minutes ago was dying in front of them.

“Listen, everyone,” Damien said, while slowly turning green (the color of zombies). “I know we just met each other, but the ten seconds of kindness I got from you were better than the entire rest of my incredibly traumatic life. So please, don’t mourn me. Put me out of my misery, and go save the world in my honor.”

Damian nodded and lifted his gun. “I was raised by assassins, in case anyone forgot,” he said. “I can do what needs to be done.” He proceeded to shoot Damien in the head.

But it didn’t do any damage at all, because as previously stated, zombies are impervious to bullets. So Damien finished turning green and stood up. “Please don’t eat our brains!” one of those other batkids said.

“Huh,” Damien said. “I don’t really want to eat anyone’s brains. I think I’m fine, actually.”

As it turned out, the zombie virus didn’t induce the desire to eat brains. The president and the entire US marines were just like that.

So the entire group hunted down Badman and the President and dropped batbombs (like badbombs, but not bad) on top of their heads, and they both exploded into one zombillion pieces.

Everyone lived happily ever after, and Damian now had a twinclone zombie brother and felt a lot better about his childhood trauma.

The end

—

bonus: more discord screenshots from last night for additional context, featuring my other friends @diligently-metastasizing (dyke lego homer) and @avloki-pal (wet ghost cat)

[tempusreyven]

Who sent the gay gay homosexual gay this is a mystery

[diligently-metastasizing]

Listening to mariah carey to reverse the psychic damage I took this month

[errorryx]

whenever i have to pick united states of america from an online form dropdown menu and it's right at the top i go booooo! cringe!!! and whenever i have to scroll allllll the fuck way down to the bottom of the alphabet, im like ahh yes. all is right with the world.

[tempusreyven]

Just had an absolutely banging idea venters check tags

[tempusreyven]

Teacups and corpses

There is a ghost living in my house,

I think I’ve mourned her a couple thousand times,

While she’s walking around, asking me to play Strauss,

And I wonder if I’m a prisoner, paying for my crimes.

I ask her if she wants a cup of tea,

While she takes over the place,

And it sounds like a plea,

For anything to fill all the empty space.

She goes to sleep, waking on a whisper,

I’ve been walking around, dead,

Hoping a don’t even manage a whimper,

To avoid morning, her corpse, another bullet in her head.

But really, if we’re being sincere,

I have forever been watching a person decay,

Yet still, I’m sitting here,

Playing Strauss for a corpse,

Worn and grey.

[tempusreyven]

Hey tumbitches I wrote a poem in the fucking feels today wanna see it?

[errorryx]

errorryx famed ao3 patron pls shout me out on your tumblr channel. sub for sub errorryx from errorryx :)

iggy i love you dearly i have no idea what this even says

[tempusreyven]

Surprised my mommy issue poems aren’t my most popular

[tempusreyven]

A lost prayer

I have a bled out eulogy,

Stretched on a side of a6,

The words are uneven, lines forgotten,

Small.

There is a eulogy,

It is sitting on a table,

Chipped, with stains and

Yesterdays dinner.

There is a woman at the table…

Was a woman on the table,

I can’t see her,

Sitting somewhere in my head,

Smaller.

I am writing out a eulogy,

It is not working,

I hang the lines along with

the washing,

Hoping the paper stays dry,

For at least another four sentences, they are punctuated. Cut—

—By a daughter - two:

6 and 11…

naive.

She puts her uniform

on the mountain by the washing

and the eulogy,

She is standing by a woman,

Smudged, scribbled.

I have a eulogy in my hand.

It goes in the breast pocket of my blazer,

Where it can’t be damaged in the washing.

There is a woman folding clothes,

She is greying and young,

And I have her eulogy in hand,

Clearing the table for the hundredth time,

waiting to say hello, mum.

[errorryx]

No gay only violence this is your hate crime

wow i wonder who sent this one. what a mystery

[cirrusinside]

@klttkatt0

Mother and newborn

[cirrusinside]

Get you a friend who will put themself on several watch lists and then say “:D hi”

Veteran, 18, sails out of the Dee estuary.

In September, a veteran plotted a course for the sea –

Carved a groove in the surf with her hand and refused to look back –

She had much that she feared and a life that she wanted to flee,

And her sister had given her blessing to halt the attack.

Her candles she lit as the sun melted into the Dee,

And around her the salt-water flickered to yellow from black.

In the distance, the glimmer of other ex-soldiers at sea,

But the veteran curled up to sleep ‘round an old haversack.

The next morning would see that young veteran down on one knee,

And the evening would watch her set fire to her teeth, to their plaque.

She would whistle the fiddle of Mozart’s concerto in C

And pretend that the waves whispered cello to lessen her lack.

When the sun rose, the veteran warmed up her skin and was free

And was glad that this time, when she left, she had had room to pack.

Then she drew, from her haversack, grapes and pink biscuits and brie,

And she learned how to captain herself; she is finding the knack.

How impossible ending a poem without finding hope.

How like me to, half conscious, scrub down my conclusions with soap.

I am tired.

I am afraid.

I am glad to be alive.

There, I have been honest, I think.

[tempusreyven]

Wooooh yeah go help error

it's literally 50/50 RIGHT NOW. this is UNACCEPTABLE. please just let him get through the first round please he doesn't fucking deserve to go down like this

GO VOTE

[diligently-metastasizing]

Oh yeah, I remember him. The prodigal mpreg son.

daresay. would you bequeth me with you 69th song on Wrapped? thanks bestie <3

you're the first to ask for 69, good job! it's Kyoto by C418

whenever i'm in a new minecraft world i always make sure to get a yellow axolotl and name him kyoto. he's my son! and this song is where he got his name. no fav lyric because it's an instrumental.

link to ask game