#kind of hope that only exists at all because of it. the way Bruce in BtAS immediately starts reading books on the disorder before he even

[papaiyatree]

tbh in a the batman world the only version of babs that makes sense to exist is oracle <33

[aplaceforhumancorpses]

·:¨༺ ♱ HS! AU BATBOY HCS♱ ༻¨:·

𝜗𝜚 Genre: Fluff-ish 𝜗𝜚 Warnings: Obsessive Tim Drake brainrot 𝜗𝜚 Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake 𝜗𝜚 PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REQUESTS || Highschool au, the boys are 16-17 here or u can pretend its college idk Gender Neutral reader °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

DICK GRAYSON

Dick Grayson is a frat boy in training. He's showy in your attendance, loud and boisterous with his antics. Look at him! spare a little glance his way, and watch him chug two water bottles back to back… That's impressive, right? He craves you soon enough, he wants that dumb high school sweetheart love story, that 'what if' romance, one where they get married in secret because their parents don't approve of their relationship. With Bruce being inadvertent towards his emotional needs he seems to fantasize about being in your arms for a night.

His courting starts after he watches you at lunch. Picking out a snack from the vending machine. He jots this down mentally and stores the information for the next day. He thinks he's sly, sliding your favorite calorie intake across your desk. "One of these bars was stuck between the shelves and the glass, so I figured it was a sign to do a good deed today. I ended up knocking it down with the other one. Anyway, it's all yours." He says brightly as you smile and reach forward for the bar. It's a little crushed and… oddly sweaty.

Dick won't tell you that he paced around outside of the classroom in passing time, clutching the second chocolate bar he had purchased, and not luckily acquired from the vending machine. His friends may call him "Big Dick" but he is nervous as hell. So when you finally look up and thank him with another smile, he almost collapses with relief and takes off in a light jog to his seat. He's so focused on trying to breathe normally that he can't see the smirk you're wearing. You take a bite and hum approvingly before returning to the book open on your lap.

JASON TODD

Jason is like a stray cat. You don't know how to react initially because he's so abrasive. Contrary to popular belief, he is very kind. Alright, you can borrow his jacket to make your way across campus to your next class, but that's only because it's pouring rain. And he doesn't mind helping you with your books (or even giving you a ride home once.) So he… stays close by. He likes hanging out with you, but he wants you to want him to stay. The fact that you seem to appreciate both sides of Jason makes him hopeful. At least a little bit. If he didn't know better he'd say there's something more going on here than just a budding friendship. Or maybe you just find his company amusing? Regardless he's patient though, and he'll wait until you've made your move to make his.

He's content with life if you're around. You're easy on his eyes, soft and gentle with him when you need to be, and so extremely lucky that he let you in. It started with him avoiding you at all costs, he had probably shoulder-checked you once or twice in the hallways without saying a word. Just that stare with the thinly veiled hostility of a moody teenage boy, and now it has progressed to him following you to classes, his worry for you has him waiting outside your building to make sure you’re safe, watching you walk to your car.. It would have been so much easier if he'd tried a little harder to hate you, to loathe your presence in his existence, but he hasn't done either, he lets himself admire how stunning you are and wishes he could be more like you.

He wishes you two would've met as kids when things weren't so complicated. He was soft back then, and he wasn't nearly as cynical and hard as he is now. Maybe then he wouldn't have become the guy that he is today.

Despite everything maybe you could have fixed him.

TIM DRAKE

Tim may be a bit obsessive. He writes your initial and his own in pen, surrounded by crooked little hearts. He spends most of his classes looking at you, thinking about looking at you, making up scenarios he knows will never come true. He saw you spray some type of perfume or cologne on yourself after gym once. He spared no time looking for it, online, in stores, everywhere. By the end of the month he had it. It was a nice scent. It suited you. Yes, its creepy and weird, but he swears its innocent in nature.

His pillow is soaked with the sent.

He knows he's got it bad. But, how can he just… talk to you? He has a perfectly healthy parasocial relationship!

It's drizzling early in the morning. Since Tim shares his first period with you he catches a glance of you, hair lightly dampened, a few waves falling against your cheek. You catch his attention instantly and awkwardly wave at him. It startles him, and he quickly turns away, burying his face into his textbook. He pretends to read the chapter aloud to himself to avoid any further eye contact. Tim looks up at you through his lashes again. He silently tears a piece of paper from his notebook, scribbling something down. He then pretends to get up to blow his nose, silently slipping the paper on the corner of your desk. He walks past you without a word, and sits down with an audible sigh. Your name appears on the paper, accompanied by some sort of lopsided smiley face.

'You're pretty'

[theerurishipper]

I feel like people really underestimate the importance of Dick being the first Robin. Like, reverse Robin AUs are interesting and such, but I just hope people realize that in the context of canon, they would never work. The reason Batman and Robin ever works is because the first Robin was Dick Grayson specifically. Because Bruce would never have taken in any child if Dick's tragedy hadn't specifically happened to mirror his own experience. Dick Grayson was the only one Bruce truly saw himself in first, because the fundamental event that defines them is the same. And he sees the opportunity to help someone the way he was never helped, to make sure that Dick didn't go down the dark path he did. So, my point here is that the only one Bruce actually made the choice to take in, the only one who could kickstart it all, is Dick Grayson, because he is the only one with whom Bruce could immediately empathize and connect with.

This never happened with any other Robin. He took in Jason because he missed Dick, he took in Tim because Tim forced himself into the role, he took in Steph because he was trying to make Tim come back to being Robin, and Dick made Damian Robin. Of course, he loved all of them, and they all have their unique relationships with Bruce that are very important and inform their characters, and he does need them too. But he specifically formed this connection with Dick that made Dick the only person he ever considered taking in. It took a very specific set of circumstances in Dick's backstory that made Bruce commit an impulse adoption that just isn't really present in any other Robin's story. And the reason Jason or Tim or Steph or Damian or anyone else whom Bruce has taken under his wing even got that chance is because of the work Dick Grayson put into Bruce Wayne.

Before Dick, Bruce was reckless and didn't care at all about himself, to the point of almost being borderline suicidal. He was more brutal, more violent, etc. The reason all this changed, is because of Dick Grayson specifically. He was the one with whom Bruce opened up, with whom Bruce was forced to grow up, to take responsibility and learn to take care of both Dick and himself. Dick, to Bruce was the one who brought "color to their [his and Alfred's] monochrome lives." Dick Grayson's specific brand of happiness and joy changed Bruce for the better. Dick gave Bruce hope. This is true for other Robins too, but only because they followed the precedent that Dick Grayson set, only because they slid into his role (they have their own interesting relationships with Bruce, but this specifically is from Dick that other Robins carried on. A legacy, if you will). Dick Grayson turned Bruce into the kind of man who would become a serial adopter.

Without his influence, without his precedent, there would be no Batfamily, because Bruce would never have gotten to the point where he would be able or willing to take in someone else and care for them properly (It took living through his trauma again to get him to take Dick in lmao). Hell, there would be no Batman because Bruce would have gotten himself killed a long time ago if Dick hadn't helped him learn self-care. Dick knows Bruce best, because he understands him on a fundamentally deeper level than anyone else in the world. And he's the only one who can make Bruce open up at his rawest, most downtrodden state. He is the only one who can give Bruce at his lowest that kind of hope. There is no Robin without Dick Grayson. It's literally a tribute to his parents, using their colors and the name his mother called him. He created that identity as a symbol of hope. He helped Bruce become the kind of man who could and would let other people that he had to care for into his life. Without Dick Grayson, you can simply forget about any other Robin or the Batfamily as a concept even existing.

[thevoidstaredback]

Tales of Conquest, Warnings of Fools:

Letters Between Brothers

Dear Damian Wayne, Dec. 19, 2011

There really isn’t a good way to say any of this, especially via a letter. If I’m being completely honest, which I am, I would much rather be saying this to you in person. For both our safety, though, this was the best way I found to contact you.

First off, congratulations on being brought into the Wayne household! I never would’ve considered imagining that Bruce Wayne would be our father, but, here we are. Unless you’re there undercover? I doubt that, though.

Now, I should probably cut to the chase, no matter how much I want to stall. You might not remember me, but I’m your brother. Don’t freak out! Please, just finish reading this, at least. If you don’t believe me or you don’t want to ever talk to or see me again, then that’s fine. I completely understand.

You probably hate me, and I don’t blame you, but I couldn’t stay there. When we got separated on that mission, I ended up nearly killed. Some civilians found me and took me to a hospital to get my injuries treated. I realized, after I woke up, that this was the life I wanted. Leaving you hurt me so much more than I could ever describe in any language, but going back to Grandfather and Mother was a death sentence. I hated doing that to you, but I couldn’t do that to myself.

God, I suck at this.

I love you, Dami, I really do. I’ve wanted, for years, to come back to you, but I didn’t because I’m a coward. A selfish coward who can’t even face his own brother properly.

Forgiveness is a luxury I have no right to ask you of, but I’m going to anyway. So, can you? Can you ever forgive me for leaving you alone? Can you ever forgive me for leaving you  to think I died? Can you ever forgive me for making you go back to that place alone? Can you forgive me for being so selfish?

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you then, and I don’t mean to hurt you now. I’m beyond ecstatic that you made it out. I’m so happy that you’re with father now. I hope you never have to go back to Nanda Parbat ever again.

شكراً لكونك أخي

          Danyal ‘Danny’ Fenton

              (xxx) xxx-xxxx

***

There was a time that Danny only ever referred to as Before. Before he’d come to America; Before he’d been taken in by the Fenton Family; Before he’d lost himself to the life he’d never envisioned. He could remember it well.

*

He’d grown up in Nanda Parbat , high in the Himalayan Mountains. Beautiful buildings made of golden sandstone bricks, roofs made of the redist clay shingles, untouched snow for as far as the eye could see, and mountain peaks stretching high above the little valley.

There were greenhouses, too, filled with plants of all kinds from everywhere! Food, poisons, antidotes, it was all grown in Nanda Parbat. Clean water was pulled from the wells and the snow as though nature herself was giving her best to this one place. Truly a heaven on earth. The Garden of Eden, some people called it.

The residents were known to very few, only ever coming down when they found themselves with visitors. The towns at the base of the mountain ranges had plenty of legends about the People of the Mountains, but even fewer still knew their real secrets.

The League of Assassins, founded by Ra’s al Ghul himself, had made Nanda Parbat their home base, though neither Ra’s nor his daughter, Talia, made a habit of staying for too long or visiting often. No, Nanda Parbat had been claimed to raise the heirs and guard the Lazarus Pits.

Danny had been born in those very halls, buried deep within the protective embrace of the mountains, mere minutes after his brother. He knew nothing but Nanda Parbat, half convinced that his instructors were lying about the outside world. After all, could it really exist if he’d never seen it?

Grandfather and Mother came by thrice a year. Once to check on or use the Lazarus Pits, once to check on the Demon Heirs, and once to instruct lessons of their own. It was how it had always been done, so Danyal and Damian knew nothing else.

Grandfather would tell tales of conquest, instructing them on how to mold their very surroundings to their wills. Mother shared her missions, warning against how others would try and use them to get to her and Grandfather, seeing them as the weakest link. Damian and Danyal taught each other, on the nights when they could escape prying eyes, the importance of secrets. No one to trust but yourself, both Grandfather and Mother had pushed, anyone will betray you when given the right incentive.

The day came when Mother and Grandfather came to check on the Pits. The week-long stay had been the same every year, but their instructors had announced a change. Danyal would be going with Mother while Damian would be going with Grandfather. They would return to continue their studies in Nanda Parbat by the next full moon.

Danny had been excited. He was going to the outside world! He’d never been there before! He’d only ever seen pictures of it! Such fun! The only disappointment he held was that he was not going to share the moments with Damian. Yes, they would be leaving together, but they wouldn’t be together. Mother and Grandfather stayed at separate bases, after all.

The night before they were set to depart their Himalayan Paradise, Danyal had snuck to the roof with his brother.

“I’m scared, ahki,” he whispered, the wind hiding his voice from all but his brother.

“Don’t be, ahki,” Damian had assured, “You will be with Mother. She will keep you safe.”

“But the instructors say that we will be on our own!” Danyal said, “Besides, I do not know Mother.”

Damian did not pause. “Of course you know Mother. She gave us life. She teaches us.”

“Yes, but I don’t know her. I know you, and I know the birds, but I do not know Mother nor Grandfather.”

“Perhaps,” Damian had suggested, “we do not need to know them as we know each other? Perhaps, we only need to know that Grandfather is Ra’s al Ghul and the Mother is Talia al Ghul.”

“Then that means you’re Damian al Ghul!” Danny smiled, emotion his instructors had tirelessly trained out of him bleeding into the privacy shared between him and his brother.

Damian nodded, “And you are Danyal al Ghul.” A beat. “We will be fine tomorrow and the day after and the days to follow. When we return to Nanda Parbat, we will sit in this very spot and share our adventures.”

“Tales of conquest?” Danyal asked.

“Warnings of fools.” Damian responded.

*

A tale as old as the dirt beneath his feet. Before had been five years ago. So long in the past, but only a few pages back. Sometimes, it was as though he’d never left Before behind him. His training, for all that it was minimal in his limited time within the snow valley, was carved into his very soul. Not even the wear of time could pull him away from a weapon or the scan for immediate exit points or the caution when dealing with new people and places.

Jazz had explained to him that his responses to certain situations should not be that cautious or violent. She’d tried again and again to tell him that he was safe; that he wasn’t where he had been Before.

He knew that, obviously. Nanda Parbat was free of the disgusting urbanization of the modern world. This place was free of the untouched beauty of the hidden gems. He could see the beauty in the contradictions and in what he had been taught to scorn, he was not an idiot, but he could not appreciate it the way people born there could.

*

The Doctors Fenton, only Masters in their fields at the time, had picked him up at the base of the Italian Appalachian Mountains. They’d treated his wounds, introduced him to their daughter Jazz, and given him the opportunity to escape where he had been.

The Fentons had taken his hesitation as confusion for the situation; amnesia. They told him, as gently as they could, that all signs pointed to an abusive home. They wanted to help him get out as soon as they could.

But, that wasn’t right. Danny, in all his six years, knew exactly what an abusive relationship was. It was one of the things his Mother had taught him about when he’d first left Nanda Parbat with her when he was four! He didn’t come from an abusive home or an abusive relationship! Damian would never put him through that, and the ninja all knew better than to do anything untoward to him and Damian.

“And what about your parents?” Jazz, being only eight years old, had not held her tongue as Danny had been taught to. “Or any other adults?”

Now that, that was definitely a thought. But, no. No one within the confines of Nanda Parbat or within the League of Shadows as a whole had ever hurt him outside of training. The injuries they had treated were from a mission, not from his Grandfather or Mother or brother hurting him!

*

His attempts at clearing the misunderstanding had been brushed off as his imagination trying to protect him. Repressing and changing trauma, Jazz had translated.

He had thought, at the time, that everyone was wrong. He had come from a perfectly normal place! Though, the week he spent in the hospital had him second guessing. He was the only one looking for every possible exit in case of any possible situation at any given time. He was the only one prepared to slit the throats of everyone in the room if they got in the way of his escape. He was the only one to actively check for weapons to use or be used against him.

During his stay in the hospital, because they wouldn’t let him leave before he was cleared by the doctors who worked there, the Fentons had exposed him to many things that made him question his upbringing. But, now that he knew the truth, he’d never be able to go back.

The Fentons had promised him, the night before he was cleared to go, that they would help him stay away from the people who had hurt him, so long as he allowed them to. And how could he not accept? Too many questions had invaded his mind. The only way to answer them was to do as his Mother had taught him: learn from experience. So, he relented, leaning into the ‘trauma induced amnesia’ everyone had assumed he had, and went along with the Fenton Family.

But what about Damian? Surely, he was safe. Surely, he’d gotten back to Nanda Parbat and reported to Grandfather and Mother that Danyla had been killed! He could not go back, not yet. And maybe, a tiny, selfish part  of him that he hid in the darkest corners of his brain, was glad he wouldn’t be going back for any reason. To make himself feel better, he’d told himself that he’d go back for Damian once he was sure he wouldn’t be caught and killed for treason.

The plans laid within the floorboards under his bed with the katana and daggers the Fentons had let him keep.

Exactly four months after turning ten, Danny had turned on the TV. It was just to provide white noise while his adoptive parents were out, so he didn’t really care about the channel. Jazz hadn’t cared, either. If she had, she hadn’t said anything.

The channel had been one for national news. The covered story was in Gotham, New Jersey. Not unusual, but concerning until none of the names of the city’s rogues had been named. Bruce Wayne was holding a gala to officially introduce his youngest son to the world. That is what dragged Danny to sit and watch attentively.

Danny knew the name Bruce Wayne very well. His Mother had told him, no less than six times, that he was to go to Bruce Wayne if he ever found himself in a situation where the League of Shadows couldn’t help him. Bruce Wayne was his go-to if he ever needed because he is his father.

When Danny first met the Fentons, something had kept him from escaping. He could have, but he didn't. Something had compelled him to stay. That same something had told him to avoid Bruce Wayne when he was ten. That same something was now telling him to go to his father.

Danny didn’t listen to that something. Instead, he watched his brother stand beside their father and his other children. He followed his brother’s public persona studiously. When he pieced together Damian being Robin, meaning that Bruce Wayne was likely Batman, he followed his vigilante life, too. All the while, he was too much of a coward to actually reach out to them.

After all, what would they get out of having a relationship with him? He was a traitor to the Shadows, dead by all accounts that mattered. They already had an established family, so why would they want Danny? So, he stayed away.

It wasn’t until the week before his and Damian’s eleventh birthday that he finally managed to write a letter to his older brother. He timed it so that the letter would arrive the day of their birthday. A part of him hoped that Damian would get, read, and respond to the letter. A bigger part of him hoped that it would be lost amongst the birthday cards that were surely being sent to Damian now that he was living with their father.

Damian’s father. Danny already had a father. Well, a dad. He also had a mom and a sister. He even had an aunt! Not to mention the friend he made. He’s never had a friend before! So, yeah. Danny had a mom, a dad, a sister, and a friend. He wanted Damian, but he wasn’t going to get his hopes up. If Damian didn’t want him, then that meant that he wouldn’t have a brother or Grandfather or Mother or a father. Or three more brothers, apparently. He couldn’t really find it in himself to be upset about any potential loss that wasn’t Damian.

*

“Please respond, please respond, please respond!” Danny chanted under his breath as he opened the mailbox. There were four letters inside, three for his parents and one for his sister. “La naiba!” he swore.

“What’s wrong?” Jazz asked as she came up behind him. She’d learned early on that it was near impossible to sneak up on him.

Danny shoved the three envelopes into her hands. “There’s nothing there for me.”

“Why would there be anything in there for you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Did you order something without telling mom or dad?”

He scoffed. “No. I sent a letter and I’m waiting for a response.”

Her head tilted to the left slightly. “When’d you send it?”

“Three days ago.”

“There’s no way you’re ever gonna get a response in three days.” She scolded lightly, leading the way into the house, “Just be patient.”

He followed her. “Easy for you to say!”

“Who’d you send it to anyway?”

“None of your business.”

Jazz turned on him, her expression as unimpressed as a twelve year old could be. Slowly, and without breaking eye contact, she raised her right eyebrow and tilted her head to the left again and slightly forward. When that didn’t get her what she wanted, she crossed her arms, her feet planted firmly in place. She’d picked up several things since Danny was brought into the family. This was one of them.

Danny hated it when Jazz did this. She reminded him so much of Damian that he had nearly cried the first few times she’d taken this exact stance to get what she wanted. Was it an older sibling thing? Regardless, it wasn’t very long before he cracked. “Okay, fine! But we talk in my room, okay?”

She smiled, losing the pose and opening the front door. “I can work with that. Do you want a snack?”

“Sure,” he huffed. He’d meet her in his room. If she wanted answers, she was going to have to bribe him. It was a subtle tactic, one that didn’t work because it wasn’t really bribery if he was already going to do what she wanted, but he needed to make himself feel better about it somehow.

It took exactly five minutes and thirteen seconds for Jazz to enter Danny’s room with some chips, crackers, and bottled waters from the pantry. Not that he was counting. They set up camp in the middle of the floor, the snacks on the floor between them and their homework set out to work on. Whether either of them would use the paper distraction was yet to be determined, but it had become common practice to have a distraction when a conversation seemed like it would take more than a few minutes. And this was definitely one of those conversations.

As soon as they were both settled, Danny took a deep and obvious breath. “I didn’t ever have amnesia.”

Jazz blinked. “What?”

What a way to start, Danny. Another breath. “When you guys first found me, the doctors said I had amnesia; that my brain locked away the memories of Before because I couldn’t handle the stress of it. I went along with it because that seemed like the best course of action at the time. But, I didn’t lose my memories. I still had them. I still have them.” He didn’t look up from the floor.

Jazz leaned forward and took a chip out from the bowl and popped it in her mouth, the crunch of her chewing doing nothing to cut the tension in the room. She swallowed. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? We could’ve had the people who hurt you arrested!”

Danny shook his head. “No. I…I thought, when I was growing up with Grandfather and Mother, that everyone was raised like that. It was all I knew. But then you guys found me and took me to the hospital and suddenly, things weren’t adding up. I decided to go with you guys because I knew I couldn’t return to Grandfather and Mother with my thoughts all messed up like that.”

To her credit, Jazz was taking this all in stride. She took another chip. “Why didn’t you leave when you got your thoughts all sorted out?”

“Honestly?” he huffed, “I realized that I didn’t want to live that life anymore.”

“Then why keep the weapons?”

“Would you believe me if I said ‘sentimental value’?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

They let silence reign over them again for a bit, focusing on their homework and eating the food set out between them. Finally, after they were both finished, Jazz put her things back in her backpack and leaned against the wall behind her, taking the bowl of chips and a water bottle with her. “What was it like, your home Before?”

Danny smiled and slipped his own things away, leaning against his bed with the bowl of crackers and his own bottle of water. This was a topic he could talk about for hours. “I was born in Pakistan, in the Himalayan Mountains, specifically. Very secluded. My brother and I were the only two kids there.”

“Brother?”

“Yeah, his name’s Damian. He’s older than me by a few minutes.”

“Why wasn’t he with you when we found you?”

“Because we got separated.”

“Do we need to go find him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s with our father now.”

“Is he the one you sent the letter to?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” A beat. “Tell me more about where you were born?”

“Sure,” he smiled, “It’s a valley of snow, nestled between peaks in the Pakistanian end of the Himalayan Mountain Range. The buildings were all connected by roofed gravel walkways, yellow sandstone bricks and red clay shingles and dark wood pillars and floors and doors. The green houses were always my favorite. Any plant you could possibly think of was probably grown there! Damian always preferred the stables and pasture, though. He got along better with animals than actual people, I was the exception. When the weather was good, we’d take our lessons outside. If the weather was bad, then we’d study in the arena or the library.

“Sometimes, whenever Grandfather or Mother came to visit, they’d tell us stories about their adventures. My favorite stories, though, were of how Mother met my father and their adventures together. Grandfather doesn’t like those stories, though. He doesn’t like my father much.

“Me and Damian were the only kids there, so we had to play with each other. There weren’t any games we could play because adults are boring, so we made stuff up as we went along. Sometimes, we’d sneak into the stables and pet the horses! Other times, we’d sneak out of our rooms and climb to the roof to watch the stars.

“The stars were so pretty there! They’re the same stars that we see here, but they were so much brighter in Pakistan; more visible, y’know? The sky was so clear and it was so quiet- One of the people staying there gave me a book about the stars before he left.”

“Is that what started your fascination with space?” Jazz asked.

Danny nodded, “Yeah, it was. Damian would listen to me retell the same stories for hours whenever we climbed to the roof, but he never asked me to stop. I don’t think he ever looked at them and saw what I saw, though.”

“What did you see when you looked at the stars?”

“I saw something just barely out of my reach that I know I could grab if I was just a little bit taller, a little bit stronger, a little bit better.”

“Is that what you see now?”

“No.”

“Oh, then what do you see now?”

“I see the past, and I see a hope for the future.” He paused. “It was a competition between me and Dami, trying to be better than each other because whoever was the best was Grandfather’s and Mother’s favorite.”

She frowned. “You guys were kids! You shouldn’t’ve had to compete for attention like that!”

“I know that now,” he shot back, “But we didn’t then. We were raised to compete with everyone to hold Grandfather’s and Mother’s attention and favor. If we lost it, if we did anything that Grandfather deemed unworthy of the family name, then we were punished.”

“That’s horrible.”

“I know, but it’s what we knew.” A beat. “It was a big family, so not everyone stayed at the one compound.” The League was very far from being a family, but it’s the best way to describe it without exposing it to anyone. “Me and Damian were born and raised in the main compound in Pakistan. Grandfather, the head of the family, stayed and led from a compound in China. Mother stayed at a compound in Bangladesh. When we were four, I went and spent a month with Mother and Damian went and spent a month with Grandfather before we were sent back to Pakistan. When we turned five, I went with Grandfather and Damian went with Mother. When we turned six, we were both sent to spend time with family here in the states. I got separated from Damian and-”

“-me and mom and dad found you.” Jazz finished for him.

“Yep.”

“But, how did you get so hurt?”

Before he could answer, the front door burst open, their parents announcing their arrival carrying through the house. “A story for another time, I guess,” he shrugged.

Jazz wasn’t happy to have been interrupted, but she didn’t push. Instead, she took the empty bowls and went downstairs to greet their parents.

Danny leaned his head back against his bed, lost in the memories of his time with his brother. He wishes that Damian would send a reply already. He had remembered to put a return address, right? Maybe he should’ve just used the house’s address instead of setting up that PO box in the next town over! It’s not like anyone ever claimed to be reliable delivery persons!

Waiting was always the worst part of anything. Waiting for Grandfather to speak when he’d called an audience; waiting for Mother to tell them the end of her story; waiting for the guards to show any weak point to sneak past; waiting for a mission to start. It was always agonizing.

*

The morning was cold. Colder than it had been, but not as cold as it could be. Unfortunately, the cold meant snow. Snow meant that it was way too bright outside. And, despite it not being the morning of a school day, Jazz had elected to wake Danny up at the horrible time of six-thirty in the morning. Later than the normal five-forty-five, but still way too early to reasonably be awake. Honestly, Danny had thought he was done with getting up with the sun, but Jazz had proved him wrong time and time again for nearly five years now.

She pulled the curtains open, letting in the light from the sun that reflected off the white embodiment of cold. When that only caused him to burrow deeper into his three blankets and two pillows and his dog plush, Jazz decided to pull all three layers off of him.

“Hey!” he yelped, falling off the bed with a thud. “What the heck!”

Jaz dropped the blankets with a smile. “Rise and shine sleeping beauty! Mom and dad are in the lab again-”

“Another ‘breakthrough’?”

“-so I’m making breakfast! What do you want?”

Danny groaned and pulled himself off the floor, resetting the blankets on his bed in a mock of making it look neat. “Something warm.”

“How does hot chocolate and pancakes sound?”

“Can I have coffee instead?”

“No.”

“Dang.”

Jazz shook her head and left the room. “Don’t go back to sleep, okay? I wanna go to the library today.” She didn’t close the door behind her.

“Isn’t it closed today?” he called into the hall.

“Tomorrow!”

“Ah.” He closed the door himself, letting out a small puff of air. Turning to the room at large with his hands on his hips, Danny sighed. It was gonna be a long day. The first thing he did was straighten out his bed so it looked properly not slept in. Just as Mother had taught him. Then, he changed from his pajamas and into some jeans and a long sleeve shirt. Leaving his room, he made his way to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, only really bothering to push a hand through his hair. Not at all like Mother had taught him, but he really didn’t care right now.

Danny made his way down the stairs sluggishly. He’d never been a morning person, much preferring to stay awake until the early hours of the morning watching stars, but he’d had to hide that little quirk when he was with Grandfather and Mother. He’d realized, about half a year after the Fentons picked him up, that he didn’t need to hide his preference for night over day. Infact, his mom encouraged it! She let him sit up on the roof and stargaze until one or two in the morning before forcing him to bed. And then Jazz got into the habit of waking him at six in the morning for school. He’s definitely run on less sleep than four-ish hours, but he’d rather get as much as he can, which is what breaks are for! Unfortunately, Jazz has it in her head that he has to get up at the same time every day without fail, lest he irreparably mess up his sleeping schedule.

With a groan, he plopped down on his chair - in a bout of pettiness a year and a half after arriving, he carved his name into the wood of the backrest - at the table and laid his head down. His sister worked efficiently on the pancakes as the water for their hot chocolate boiled in the electric kettle.

The two sat and worked in a quiet peace. Jazz’s bustling around the kitchen faded into the background as white noise with the constant hum of electricity throughout the house and the occasional controlled explosion from the basement lab. It was well fortified, so the house wasn’t in danger.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes of laying on the table with his eyes closed, Jazz put a plate by Danny’s head, a mug of hot chocolate with a candy cane beside it. Then, she sat opposite him with her own food.

“Thanks,” he mumbled groggily, pulling the food and drink towards him.

“You’re welcome.” Jazz said around a bite.

Danny would be the first to admit that Jazz wasn’t the best cook, but he was also the first to praise her cooking. Jack Fenton couldn’t make anything, that wasn’t fudge, for the life of him. Any food he tries to make, somehow turns to fudge. Kind of like King Midas’ Golden Touch. Maddie Fenton was a pretty good cook, when she remembered to actually feed herself and her family. She could make cookies worthy of the gods, though. Whenever the Fenton parents weren’t in their basement lab for one reason or another, they ordered takeout to eat with their kids. Those times were, unfortunately, few and far between.

Finishing his meal, Danny was wide awake, the food doing wonders for waking him. And, while the caffeine in chocolate was nothing compared to the coffee his dad would sometimes let him drink, there was just enough to wake him up just a bit more. Don’t tell Jazz, though, or she might take away chocolate, too.

“Do you,” he hesitated, the words caught in his throat for a moment, “Do you think mom and dad will be up to celebrating this year?”

When he was seven, he learned that the Fentons didn’t celebrate any holiday, no matter what it was. They had up until Jazz was five, but then work became more important. Jack and Maddie had claimed breakthroughs in their research, pushing everything and everyone aside if it or they didn’t directly help their life’s work.

That same year, he’d been trying to acclimate himself better. One of the biggest things in American culture is holidays, so he decided to ask to celebrate Christmas. It was mainstream and was derived from one of the only holidays he was allowed to celebrate back in Nanda Parbat.

Jack and Maddie had agreed, of course, and he and Jazz had pulled out all the old decorations to dress the house. When December twenty-fourth came around, though, their parents had gotten into a huge fight about whether to tell Danny and Jazz that Santa wasn’t real. Jack had said it was a right of passage for little kids to figure it out all on their lonesome, while Maddie had argued that she wasn’t going to let her children believe in fairy tales that parents tell to get their kids to sleep faster. They were loud enough that Jazz and Danny had both heard every word.

The two tried, every holiday, to get their parents to spend time with them, at least, but it failed every time. Something or other aways came up.

“I don’t know, Danny,” she sighed, putting her fork on her now empty plate, “You can try, but I doubt it.” She’d given up last year, right around the time that she’d picked up on reading parenting books.

Danny didn’t say anything. He simply stood and gathered the dishes, taking them to the sink to be washed before putting them away. The dishwasher had been ripped apart and repurposed for parts in the lab.

“I know that you want to celebrate like the other kids in town,” Jazz said from the table, “but mom and dad are way too focused right now. Mom mentioned something about working on the portal some more.”

Danny put the cup down carefully, a loud click sounding through the kitchen. With a controlled breath, he closed his eyes and turned off the tap. “There were exactly two holidays that me and my brother were allowed to celebrate when we were children. Christmas is taken from one of those holidays. Forgive me for just wanting to share a piece of that with them.”

He could feel Jazz’s sad gaze on his back. “What holidays?”

“Forget it,” he shook his head, “Let’s just go to the library.”

She let it drop. “It doesn’t open for a few more hours.”

He started up the stairs. “Then come get me when it’s time to go.” Danny ignored Jazz’s responding sigh as he walked up to his room. Closing the door behind him, he grabbed some paper and a pencil.

In Nanda Parbat, one of the instructors was set to teach Danny and his brother the Fine Arts. From writing to painting to instruments to acting. All so that they could adapt to any mold for any mission. Because they were the heirs, the Demon Twins of the monster that was the organization, they were expected to be perfect. Anything less was punished.

Damian had always excelled at the Arts, especially drawing and its counterparts. He could work with any median, but charcoal had always been his favorite. Danny, too, had excelled with the Arts, but anything that happened on a stage had been his specialty.

Whenever he missed his brother, or any aspect of Before, too much, Danny would sit down and draw. He’d thought about asking his parents for an instrument of some kind, the cello always having been his favorite, but he decided against it. So, he drew. He didn’t have a dedicated sketch book, and no one but himself would ever see anything he made, but it was a nice outlet.

He wondered if Damian did something similar, now that he was with father. Did he play instruments or read plays when he thought of Danny? Did he allow his new siblings to see what he made or listen to his voice?

Three hours passed by in a blink, only one page being covered. It was a nice memory he’d drawn of the blacksmith’s hut away from the main base. In the picture, he and Damian were learning to forge their own daggers. Damian’s had turned out unbalanced and two inches too short. Danny’s had been only half an inch too long with a slightly too short grip.

Jazz knocked on the door as she cracked it open. “Hey,” she greeted quietly.

Danny covered tha paper. “Hey.”

“Are you ready to head out? We can stop by Tasty Burger for lunch?”

“Sure,” he nodded, moving to stand in a way that prevented the paper from showing to Jazz. He hid it in his nightstand to be moved to the box with the others later. “Let’s go.”

Nodding, she led the way.

It was a quick walk, only twenty minutes from their house to the library, but it was cold and bright. The snow only made the area brighter, but it was comfortable to him; familiar. What was really irritating was the cars and the people and the buildings. Danny had been raised very far from all of these things, only ever going near them when on a mission, and it was only a few hours at a time in those instances. No matter how long he lived in a city or town, whatever it was called, though, he would never get used to the noise.

The sidewalks were crowded with holiday shoppers not insane enough to go out on the twenty-fourth, but crazy enough to go out on the twenty-third. The streets were slick and traffic was slow, especially for a morning. Christmas decorations lined every window and tree and building face, holiday music carried on the wind four or five different songs mixing into one over and under the voices of the people on the sidewalks.

“C’mon,” Jazz tugged him into the public library by his hand. She had four books tucked under her arm, two on psychology, one on parenting, and one on dragons.

Danny followed after her, not quite dragging his feet, but making it apparent that he would rather not be there.

“Good morning, you two!” the librarian smiled when they made their way to her desk. She was a cheerful woman, always wearing a smile, though she had never once worn a nametag or introduced herself.

“Good morning!” Jazz matched the woman’s energy with a smile, dropping Danny’s hand and putting the four books up on the counter.

The woman took the books to scan them back into the system. “Are you looking to check out more books today?”

“Yep! Just so I have something to do over Winter Break.”

“You’re a kid, there’s lots for you to do!”

“I know, but I like reading.”

“I get it. Let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“Okay, we will!” Jazz took Danny’s hand again and pulled him off into the forest of shelves, straight to the parenting section.

Danny hid his scowl as he watched Jazz search through the parenting books. “You’re twelve, Jazz-”

“Almost thirteen.”

“-you’re not supposed to be looking at these kinds of books until eighteen at the earliest.”

She didn’t stop her search. “You’re eleven, Danny, you should be acting like a kid.”

“But I wasn’t raised as a kid.”

“Exactly why you should take the opportunity now!”

He groaned. It was an ongoing argument between the two. “I don’t need you to look after me, Jazz. We’re both kids, so we should be reading books that kids do! Leave the parenting up to our parents.”

“Our parents who don’t even celebrate holidays?”

“Jazz-”

“Look, Danny, I know you’re worried about me growing up too fast or whatever, but I like these books.” She pulled one off the shelf before turning to look at him. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll only get one parenting book.”

It didn’t. He’d rather her get none. “Okay.”

“I’m gonna get some psychology books, though, and you can’t stop me.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” he said. She ignored him.

“The human mind is really interesting. Did you know that the size of a human brain has decreased since the time when we were hunters and gatherers?”

“Has it?” He loved when she got like this, talking about things that interest her.

She nodded rapidly. “Mhmm! By a whole ten percent!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! And most artists like working at night because humans are more creative during the night rather than during the day.”

“What?” He raised his eyebrow in good humor to tell her that he was joking, “There’s no way that’s true.”

“It is!” she insisted, leading the way over to the tables in the middle of the large room with two psychology books and a parenting book under her arm. “And, look!” she grabbed a paper and pencil and wrote down ‘Yuo cna’t sotp me form radenig prnatneig bokos.’ in big letters. “Because we read words instead of individual letters, as long as the first and last letters are in the proper spots, and all the letters are there, it doesn’t matter what the rest of the word looks like, especially if you’ve been reading for a while or if you’re reading fast. You’re still able to read the word as though it were completely correct.”

“That’s actually really cool.”

“Right?” Her grin was so worth it. Her grin would always be worth it. “C’mon, let’s go get yo some books now.”

Danny grabbed Jazz’s hand and led the way this time. He took them over to the books about space and started to look through them. He’d always loved space as a whole, but stars had always held a special place for him.

He picked a book about astrology. “I heard some of the girls at school talking about magic and stuff and how people’s personalities are affected by what star sign they were born under.”

Jazz scrunched her nose a bit. “I’ve heard some people at school talk about that stuff, too. Do you think it’s true?”

“I think it’d be worth a look.” He took another book off the shelf, this one talking about both ancient and modern witchcraft. “The psychological implications are interesting, too.” That would get her to show a bit more interest.

“Really?”

“Really.”

She paused. “Mind if I take a look when you’re done?”

“I’d be happy to have a whole conversation about it when we’ve both finished reading our books.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The last stop before checking out their chosen books was in the fairy tail section of the library. Their dad loved fairy tales, but their mom refused to let them have any of the books in the house. She claimed that there was no such thing as magic and that any ‘magic’ was done by ghosts. Danny had to hide his amusement whenever that particular argument was bright up because he knew for a fact that the supernatural and magic go hand in hand more often than not. He wasn’t about to tell her that, though.

The book they chose was one they both wanted to read, not wanting to risk mom finding one fairy tale in the house, let alone two. It was a compilation of the Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales. Dark stories, they both knew, but that just made them all the more enticing.

Checking out went much the same as checking in, with the added bonus of the librarian giving them a cloth tote bag to carry their six books in. She also gave them the name of a small magic shop on the other side of town that had some tarot cards in stock if Danny was interested.

As promised, Jazz had taken some money from their mom’s purse to stop by the Tasty Burger for lunch. They both ordered the chicken nuggets and a milkshake, Jazz getting chocolate and Danny getting strawberry. Then, when they were done eating, they walked hand in hand back to their home.

Danny stopped at the mailbox, not moving to follow Jazz or to open the thing. Did he dare check? He didn’t want to get his hopes up. What if Damian hadn’t gotten the letter like he both feared and hoped? What if he had? Would there be a response? Would Damian ever want a relationship with him?

“Hey,” Jazz tugged his hand, “What’s wrong?”

He bit his lip, a show of nervousness that would’ve been punished in Nanda Parbat. He inhaled. “What if there’s no response? What if he doesn’t want to talk to me? It’s been almost five years.”

It took a moment before Jazz clocked what he was talking about. She let go of his hand to hold his shoulders. “How about this; You go inside and wait and I’ll get the mail, okay?”

Danny nodded and slowly trudged into the house. Why had he even sent that stupid letter? He flopped onto the couch. Damian probably hates him for not returning to his side.

He didn’t have time to mope any longer because Jaz threw the front door open with a shout. “Danny!” She was suddenly right beside him, shoving a letter into his hands. “There’s a letter for you!”

After a moment to process, Danny’s shaky hands ripped the envelope open and pulled out the paper inside. The single sheet was folded into three perfect rectangles, the black ink of a pen unsmudged and perfectly spaced. Just as Mother had taught.

***

Danyal ‘Danny’ Fenton,                         Dec. 21, 2011

You have a very extravagant story. Whatever made you believe that exchanging letters was the most secure way of contact? An idiotic move that my brother would, unfortunately, absolutely make. Either you are him, or you are a clone. Either way, I’m not likely to believe you, so do not mistake this as such. Your admitted honesty is welcomed, though not believed.

My welcome into the Wayne Family was quite a public affair and aired all over the country, so I guess I should thank you for the congratulations, as is socially acceptable in this situation as well as others like it. Bruce Wayne being my father is not a surprise, given his public image and his tendency to take any stray whelp he sees into his home. Though I will have you know that I am the only blood child in the household.

Announcing your stalling while writing a letter is completely unnecessary, especially as that was your first correspondence. Had you simply left that out, I would never have been the wiser. Another mistake you’ve made in accordance with my brother.

Having read over your letter several times, I have come to several conclusions. With the resources I have at my disposal, I have determined that there is a good chance you are who you say you are. Understanding who I am, and who my brother is, the rest of this response is written under the foolish  ̶h̶o̶p̶e̶ assumption that you are who you claim to be.

I could never hate you, Danyal, nor could I ever ignore this chance I have been presented with. Getting out was the best thing you could’ve done for yourself. Coming back from that mission, having failed and lost you, broke something in Mother. She was both harsher and more clingy, hovering whenever she could and pushing more than ever. Grandfather was even less pleased that you hadn’t returned, though he only ever acknowledged you as a failure and a mistake. He made it known that he would’ve killed you, had you ever miraculously returned to Nanda Parbat.

I am glad that you got help. I am glad that you are living safely and that you have found a place to be at peace.

You are a coward, but you are more deserving of praise and forgiveness than you seem to believe. I thought you had died on that mission, Danyal. For that, I can’t ever forgive you, but I could never hate you. I can forgive you for making me return on my own. I can forgive you for being selfish and leaving me alone, but I will never forgive you for making me mourn you. You hurt me in ways that I never thought I could ever be hurt, in ways that I may never be hurt again.

Grandfather and Mother never allowed a grave to be made. They didn’t let me keep anything of yours either. They erased you. It was like you had never been there. I was never allowed to properly mourn you. That alone almost ended me.

Father knows nothing of you. Mother did not tell him, nor will I. I did not wish to make him or our siblings mourn a child they would never meet. If you so choose to tell him, then you may. I, however, will not be playing the messenger.

أرجو أن تسامحني على اعتقادي بأنك ميت. أرجوك سامحني لأنني لم أحزن عليك كما ينبغي. أرجوك سامحني لأنني لم أبحث عنك، فالعودة لم تكن خياراً متاحاً. كان يجب أن أجعله خياراً                     Damian Wayne

Translation 1 - Arabic :: Thank you for being my brother.

Translation 2 - Romanian :: Damn it!

Translation 3 - Arabic :: Please forgive me for thinking you were dead. Please forgive me for not mourning you properly. Please forgive me for not looking for you, coming back was not an option. I should have made it an option

Storyboard Part 2 Artwork

[justficsiguess]

thinking about... yandere!batfam...

Imagine you're living your normal life and *boom*, one day suddenly a portal opens right in front of you, you fall through it, it closes right behind you. You can only make out a few vague shapes making their way towards you before you pass out.

When you wake up you're... in a bed. Surrounded by a bunch of people who introduce themselves as the Wayne family. You're in Gotham. There was some kind of portal accident with a villain and you fell here from a different dimension and you're stuck until they can figure out how to fix the portal machine, because it was broken during the fight.

Villain? Portals? Gotham? And what was this family doing there during a fight?? They explain that they're vigilantes, Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, etc etc. They decided to tell you this because you'll have to work with them to figure out your home dimension and they didn't trust anyone else to take you in, plus this is just more efficient [and more comfortable than living in the batcave]. I haven't decided yet if you're from a dimension where they exist in comics or don't exist at all, but either way, you're really confused bc this is just not something that happens in your universe.

Anyways. You live with them now, get closer to all of them, work with them sometimes (even though you can't do much, mostly you just watch them work but they insist it's important you're there), decorate your temporary room in the manor a bit, learn some stuff about this dimension (some people have superpowers?? cool!!). You can't go outside though, they say that would be dangerous, as you're not from this dimension and not supposed to be here at all. You want to go back home, but the repairing of the portal machine seems to be very complicated, everyone keeps telling you they just can't figure it out...

One day, during a rare (very rare) moment alone, you decide to look around the manor. You still haven't seen everything in here, it's so big! After some exploration, you stumble across an interesting room that's kind of hidden away. It looks almost exactly like your new room in the manor, but dusty, with some items you remember the Batfamily proudly showing you as you were decorating your room, and becoming unreasonably disappointed when you didn't like them. But the most concerning thing is that there are pictures of you. Not new ones they took since you've been here, but older ones, where you're younger. But, no, it doesn't seem like they're pictures of you exactly, there are photos of a pre-teen you on Bruce's shoulders, that can't be you, you just met them! There are also pictures of a vigilante you've never seen before, which you figure must be this other-you as well. What happened to them? And why would everyone hide this from you?

Turns out you didn't come here from an accident with a villain at all. The Batfamily lost the other version of you somehow and decided they wanted you back. But not a strong, smart vigilante like the version of you from this universe. No, they could get hurt again, or figure out what's going on sooner and escape. They chose you, hoping they could slowly get you accustomed to the idea of staying and then one day lie to you and say they can't fix the portal machine, they can't send you back. It still hurts them to know you're not exactly like the you they lost, you were raised in a completely different way, of course you're not the same, but they'd never let you go, either. They love you.

They were hoping you wouldn't find everything out so soon... but, well, they can fight over whose fault it is that you were able to find this room later, first they need to find a way to calm you down and stop you from leaving them.

If you find yourself drugged and/or tied to your bed, don't be mad at them! You gave them no time to explain before you started panicking and trying to get away, they couldn't just let that happen!

[radiance1]

Multiple businesses have suddenly been handed over to one man under the name of Masters. Multiple businesses who have some type of corruption one way or another.

The Wayne's wouldn't have even noticed, really, if the same wasn't happening in Gotham city.

It was alarming, really. Whoever Masters was he new how to pick his targets, businesses which are either small enough to go ignored, about to go bankrupt, or had rumors (which were true) about dabbling in crime.

All the businesses he took seemingly flourished under his hands, with not even a single corner being dipped in crime. Whoever Masters was, he was undoubtably a successful businessman, he managed to built an empire that was soon capable of rivaling both Lexcorp Wayne Foundation in a few years, and he was an incredibly elusive man himself.

No one knew what he looked like, nor his first name.

Only his last, Masters.

On a different note, there was another thing Tim was looking into. A new restaurant/ice cream parlor which opened up recently, it just opened up out of the blue, owned by a family that just appeared in Gotham one day.

From what he checked, there wasn't any records about any of them anywhere Tim could find, like literally nothing. Almost like they didn't exist prior to the day they opened.

There was only three people who owned the store. Vlad- no last name- the cook and owner, Danny- again, no last name- the cashier and Jasmine- once again, no last name- the waitress.

He had a suspicion- no he was very sure that Danny was a meta, one who had power over ice. They never ran out of ice, the space behind his counter was always cold (Well he did man the ice cream parlor and the drinks, but still), he quite literally watched the guy freeze someone's coffee when they tried to complain it was too hot and the most damming thing.

Their ice cream machine was never, not even once, broken.

Vlad was most definitely a fire meta, the temperature always seemed to rise whenever he was in the room, and his kitchen was a goddamn furnace, no one who didn't have at least some kind of fire resistance would be able to go in there with an apron and stay there for hours on end.

He was also very defensive over his kitchen for some reason, Tim thought it was because of the insane heat which might be part of the reason, but even to his own workers he doesn't allow them inside. Tim managed to overhear his reason as to why though.

"No offense, and in the most respectful way I can put this. But you two just throw food in the oven and hope it doesn't gain sentience."

Tim thinks he probably didn't mean that literally.

Jasmine couldn't be flagged as a meta, but he does think there's something about her. Probably has a pretty solid foundation in martial arts, or ballet, because her balance is impeccable. He quite literally watched her dance her over to different tables with multiple plates on her body.

Tim didn't think there was any type of connection between the Masters takeover and the restaurant, and technically he should be alerting Bruce to the two new metas in Gotham but.

They have a coffee to die for.

No, he should probably be telling Bruce, or at least another one of the family...

Maybe after he stops by and grabs himself a coffee, oh and most definitely one of their ice creams too.

[rottenfyre]

random ahh question about Jaybird.

is Jason only angry at the reader,or is he still in love,somehow

Jason doesn’t forgive her. Not yet. Not ever, probably. But there's something twisted inside him, some part of him, that can’t quite let her go. He can’t forgive her, not for what she did. But, fuck, there’s still a piece of him that remembers the moments that made him feel like maybe she cared, maybe she wasn’t as broken as everyone else in his life. Maybe, just maybe, she could’ve been the one who understood him when he needed it most. But that was a lie. And it makes him sick to think about how blind he was to it all.

So yeah, he’s angry. Furious. And it’s not just at her. It’s at himself for ever believing in her. For ever letting himself think that she could be the one person who wouldn’t let him down. Bruce did it, Dick did it, the whole damn world did it—why would she be any different? But still, Jason can’t help but want to forgive her. Because deep down, there’s a part of him that still loves her. Not in the way he used to, not in some naive, romantic sense where he was sure she’d always be by his side. No, it’s different now. It’s darker, more twisted. It’s the kind of love that gnaws at you, that eats you alive, that you can’t escape. He knows she doesn’t deserve his forgiveness, but a part of him still craves it. He wants to forgive her. He wants to, but it feels like it would mean giving her something she doesn’t deserve. It would mean letting her off the hook. And that’s the last thing he can do.

But does that mean he doesn’t still love her? Does it mean he’s not holding onto the shadow of that love, even though he’s in pain from it? Fuck, no. He’s still holding onto her, even if it’s just to tear her apart like she tore him apart.

Jason wants her to feel what he felt. He wants her to suffer in the same way, to carry the weight of everything like he did. Because, deep down, if she feels that pain—if she feels the same agony he went through—then that means she still cares. Doesn’t it? If she suffers, then that proves she hasn’t completely forgotten about him, right? That she hasn’t moved on the way he thinks she has. He needs that proof. He needs her to hurt, not because it will make him feel better, but because it means there’s still something left. Something that’s still tethering her to him. If she’s sorry, if she regrets it, it means she still has a piece of him, just like he still has a piece of her.

But the fucked-up thing is, Jason isn’t sure if he wants her to feel bad for the right reasons. He’s not sure if it’s because he wants her to realize what she did or because he’s holding onto the hope that if she feels guilty enough, maybe she’ll come back. Maybe she’ll look at him the way she used to. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll regret walking away. It’s like he needs that validation from her. He needs her to acknowledge the bond they once had, the one he can’t seem to forget no matter how much he tries to move on. If she can just show him that she’s sorry, it would mean something. Anything. It would mean that there’s still some shred of her that remembers how it felt before everything turned to shit. And maybe that would make everything worth it. Maybe.

It’s twisted now, though. It’s not love, not entirely. It’s this toxic mix of anger, longing, and resentment. He hates her for what she did, but there’s still this part of him that clings to the version of her he thought was real. That “angel” he put on a pedestal? She doesn’t exist, but he can’t let her go completely.

And then there’s the trauma. What they went through together—it’s burned into him. No one else gets it, not Bruce, not anyone. She’s tied to him in a way that’s impossible to ignore, even if he wishes he could.

Jason’s so twisted up inside, he doesn’t know where the anger ends and the love begins. Or if it even matters. He doesn’t even know if it’s love at all anymore. It’s obsession, sure. It’s a need, a craving to see her feel what he feels. To see her broken the way he is. Because if she’s broken, too—if she’s hurt—then that’s the only way he can justify the way he feels. It’s the only way to make it feel like it wasn’t all in vain. If she feels bad enough, if she regrets enough, it means she’s still his. And even if he can’t have her back the way he wants, at least he can have that. At least he can have her on his terms. Because that’s all Jason really wants anymore. He doesn’t care about forgiveness. He doesn’t care about moving on. He just wants to know she hasn’t completely forgotten about him. That she hasn’t just erased him from her life like he was nothing.

He doesn’t care about how she feels—he just wants to know she does feel. He needs to know that she’s still haunted by the memory of him, by what they went through, by how he bled for her and she left him. Because if she’s sorry, if she feels bad, that means she hasn’t moved on. And if she hasn’t moved on, then she’s still his in some sick, twisted way. Even if she never admits it. Even if she never comes back.

So now he’s stuck. He doesn’t trust her, probably never will again, but he can’t stop thinking about her either. It’s not just about what she did; it’s about everything they were before. That connection, still messes with his head. And that’s what makes him dangerous—because Jason’s the kind of guy who doesn’t let go. Not really.

Jason doesn’t forgive her. But God, he wants to.

[theyluvlyss]

Can I request if you can Hcs of all the ghost boys + Finney being in love ? ( Feel free to not add Finney since you wrote something similar before )

Xoxo 💋

𝐨𝐟𝐜 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧😌...

it's what I'm here for🫡♡. I really like the idea of writing about them being in love/having a crush rather than being with reader right off the bat !! very cool and unique idea (imo), and it definitely harbors that little difference in feelings/slight nuances that I'm very happy to expand on !

although it took me a bit, I've actually gotten most of the boys done already, and that's around when I gained the bright idea to just ... instead of making you wait, I remembered there's this thing called free-will, and I can quite literally post whatever and whenever I want lol😆 ...

meaning I can just post each boy for you one at a time as I finish them instead of waiting until they're all done and then making one long post :D !

on that note, here's finney's hehe...

𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

《 ♡ 》 headcannons

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

while it's always fun to imagine (haha, get it💀) what it'd be like for him to be your best friend or your boyfriend, there's times when you yearn for that tension. that something in between that's more than a platonic relationship, but just short of being a lover. and I'm here to revive that feeling of what it'd be like for finney blake to have a crush on you...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!reader x finney blake - she/her/hers pronouns!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

70s-80s - the grabber doesn't exist

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

cursing, as usual - small mentions of anxiety/nerves - finney being super cute lol - overall super duper fluffy and pretty much everything the prompt describes lmao.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

I know you said I didn't have to do him since I already have, but *adds that mf in anyway because he deserves round two of some lovins😆🫧💙🪩*.

Finney liking somebody/finding someone attractive is usually a dead-end deal. He keeps it to himself - buried deep down within the depths of his gentle soul, never to breach the light of day, because he knows good and well that even if it did arise, all it would lead to is rejection and - if he's extra unlucky - a teasing+beat-down combo attack from some known bullies of his (should they find out or be witness to these nonexistent attempts of confession).

A little depressing, I know, but bffr ... if you were Finney, would you do anything different🤨?

Althoughhhh....

Him having a crush on you, specifically, is very,,, confusing. Think of when you have a crush in real life, but you actually have a little bit more of a chance with them than usual. It's realistic. There's a sliver of hope. A light down in the depths of that depressing darkness.

It's like that.

And dare I say, he's fairly obvious about his liking towards you, but only if you're paying close attention.

If you're in a totally different clique, especially a popular one, just kind of in your own little bubble (which might as well be a whole new world to him), then the chances of you noticing/realizing his infatuation with you is very slim. Even in Finney's own case, he'd view you way out of his league, no chance whatsoever, so don't expect him to make any moves of any kind.

And on top of that (as I mentioned first thing), he'd do his damn best to not let ANYONE find out, ESPECIALLY Robin, Gwen, or Bruce, because the last thing he wants is for them to get overconfident on his behalf and try to set y'all up. What if you reject him?

Or worse, what if you end up liking Robin or Bruce instead of him? He wouldn't be able to take it. And lord knows he keeps his crush hidden from his bullies for highly good reasons. An even worse scenario in his mind than the last one is if they publicly teased him (or the both of you) about it, made a mockery of his feelings for you to witness and either join in or pity him - neither an outcome his ego and self-esteem were built to handle.

Now, the opposite - actually knowing him and/or being his friend - the case would probably still remain the same with only slight differences. He'd still find you out of his league, probably wouldn't make any bold moves. But, being his friend, closer to you, a little more comfortable around you, there may be times where he'd make the SLIGHTEST of nods to MAYBE, POSSIBLY liking you in a romantic fashion. JUST A LITTLE BIT.

BUT, he'd also be so worried and absorbed in his own head about all the different little things - am I impressing her? am I making her uncomfy? Does she already know? Does she not know and thinks I'm weird? Did she already think I was weird before I did that thing? Did she even catch onto that thing I did? Is she ignoring it? Is she ignoring me? Oh my god, she fucking hates me - that he lowkey wouldn't even consider the fact that you've been making more obvious moves on him this whole time.

He would probably end up liking you because of something you said or did. Like, depending on the situation, you said/did something that really resonated with him, or he found himself thinking about a lot. Which would then lead to him thinking about you a lot, and it's a spiral from there. Or, if already friends, it's probably something you did/said that had him now seeing you a new/different light, which, again, spirals from there.

Should anyone that's not you uncover the feelings he harbors, he's so the type to deny it. Gwen could be studying your behavior and body language up and down, and then report back to Finney with WRITTEN, PICTURE, PHYSICAL FUCKING EVIDENCE of you liking him/reciprocating the crush, and Finney would just be like, "...Nahhhh, you're just delusional, she wouldn't even notice if I disappeared the next day." And Gwen would just be like, "This bitch here😐..."

Either way tho, what I meant way earlier by "confusing" is that his version of (just barely) letting you know he likes you romantically is him just being,,, himself/friendly but a little bit more than usual LMFAO. Like, if y'all are friends and he always walked you to and from school, what he would do to further insinuate that he 💙likes💙 you is to just,,, walk you everywhere else🥴💀. Essentially be your moral support wherever you go lmfao.

Or like, besides doing stuff he really doesn't need to do that confuses you, he'd do things that kinda give the OPPOSITE of, "I'm literally in love with you." Avoid/not talk to you, avoid eye contact, stuff that just leaves you like, "...I don't think he wants to be my friend anymore🥲💔." LIKE BOY-!😭

But it's not intentional. It's just his nerves and doubts getting the better of him, y'know? Overthinkin, which leads to overreacting, etcetc., you know how it goes/what that's like lol.

So yeah, basic point, if the feelings aren't already made VERY CLEAR from the jump, don't expect things to get any clearer😻.

BUT, if after a while should he either gain a little more confidence (prolly from Robin) or you grow a pair and make the first bold move yourself (which would confirm it for him to be more comfy getting bolder himself as well), I feel like he'd still remain a little shy and mildly confusing, but very berry cute nonetheless.

I'm telling you, he'd put those crafting skills to work, hon👏🏽!! Just any chance he gets/has to either make you something or just impress you with something he's made, he's putting 1000% percent into it. I'm talking he's going broke, losing sleep, practicing what he's gonna say and how he says it - it's all going into whatever little (or big??) craft he knows you're going to see/he's gifting to you.

He'd also compliment you a lot, along with being more himself, which HELLO, he's so silly when he wants to be. I feel like he'd have you laughing a lot without exactly meaning/trying to, but HE'D FS CHERISH THAT like,,, every time he'd make you laugh, he'd just feel like he was on cloud nine - 'I made her laugh, I did that, me, she thinks I'm funny, she likes me, she's literally in love with me like I am her, otherwise she wouldn't be laughing so hard-'

...😃...Yeah, he takes what he can get and RUNS with it (which is why I think he'd love and is in need of lots of reassuring, plz take care of my baby😭🙏🏽).

On the topic of such, actually, it's kinda funny because it doesn't really affect his envy levels.

I don't think he'd get all that jealous if he saw you with other ppl; it would just be the thing of like,,, "That's what I get for getting my hopes up."/"It could be worse ngl." lmao which is sad on one hand but kind of mature on the other, yk?

Mature that'd he'd just leave it alone, not be pushy. But sad because wdym you think you're not worthy of some love/what you want out of life :( ? Luckily for him, though, I don't think he's able to hide disappointment/sadness very well.

Not that he's going around telling people, but he's just one of those "face/tone of voice says it all" kind of guys. So, depending on your thought process and if you can put two and two together, you're quick to squash any doubts of you being interested in someone else romantically.

"I'm not really into *state another persons features lol idk*. Not my type of guy..." which may or may not be you trying to guide him into asking your type, and he may or may not take the bait🤭.

No, but seriously, he literally may or may not catch on. There's definitely been a few times where he's missed the social cue, and on the inside, you're just like "😔🙄..."

He gets SUPPPPER flattered if/when you get jealous, tho. Like, I'd imagine it's a pretty rare occurrence (surprisingly to you, don't nobody be hitting on Finney Blake, okay💀✋🏽), but when it does happen, you're very quick to make it known you're hardcore crushing and liked him first, even going as far as to make it appear as if he's already taken.

You're hanging off of his arm more than usual or playing with his hand to keep him from fidgeting, you're staring at him with such a strong look of love-sickness in your eyes that might even cause the other girl to throw up, and should she even get as far as asking him out...? Oh boy...

"Actually, Finn, we were gonna hang out today, weren't we? I wanted to help you paint that rocket you're working on, I have the perfect colors in mind already...!"

"You...You do?"

"Yes, I do😃😐."

And the other girl just has to be like, "...I'll um,,,, Nevermind, Finney, I'll see you around."

"Maybe...!" You'll call after her cheekily, smile growing wider and wider as she trails away with Finney yet to even process the entire interaction at all. And while he might not catch on right away, the second he does, he's BEET red💀😭.

He doesn't know whether to admit he's smitten by your hostility or to let you know you don't have to be😭✋🏽. And more often than not, he'll opt for saying nothing at all, smiling to himself all shy while you're back to normal, talking as if you hadn't thwarted off a foe.

Confessing... That's not fucking happening, ever at all💀. And if he did, it would be on his death bed (I'm joking). But srsly, if he can avoid it for as long as possible, he will. The type to tell you on the last day of school, I'm talking GRADUATION DAY, right as one of y'all are leaving FOREVER, on some "I've always liked you..." type shit, and you would just have to be like, "WHYDIDYOUWAITSOLONGWHATTHEFUCK😭💔💔‼️‼️" Which is why I think it'd truly be up to you to confess (hopefully) way sooner😭💀✋🏽.

And if/when you did, he'd probably forget how to,,, exist lmao. Like, one of those moments where the information has to process in his head so he's just standing there looking at you like, "🧍🏻‍♂️:0" for a second before he's like, "o-OH!...I...I like you, too! And I have for- I mean... Like, it's been long. A long time. I've liked you a long time :D."

YOU KNOW WHAT?? If he felt he, himself, absolutely had to confess, he'd write you something. He's not Shakespeare or anything, but it would be much easier and less nerve-wracking for him to just write it all down. He'd hand it to you in person, apologize for the length of the letter that YOU HAVEN'T EVEN OPENED YET😭, and then practically teleport from the scene because he doesn't even wanna stay for your reaction. The fear of rejection is genuinely too much for him.

He'd be better off never hearing from you again if you didn't like him back rather than have you tell him to his face. ALSO, he'd give it to you in private. Wouldn't want to put you or himself on the spot, nor would he want to risk somebody catching him or you with the paper that has him pouring his heart out to you on it.

But, of course (because why else would you be reading this if you weren't expecting The Good Ending™), you're confused while opening and reading it until those feelings gradually begin to swell into a mixture of flatter, adoration, and just flat out love because not only had he FINALLY confessed to you...

But you had found it to be written quite beautifully, and it was overall the cutest thing that had ever happened to you, so now you have to return the favor - scribbling your response in some colorful pen color on the back of his own confession note, doodled with hearts and squiggly lines and all of that nonsense, leaving it in his locker - and letting the events take off from there.

Letting the relationship blossom from there🫧🥹🪩💙✨️.

𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 !!

ik I say this literally every time I post something, but I really loved writing this, and it's because I LOVE WRITING; I love doing this shit, idcidc✋🏽😭✋🏽. if I could make a living off of this, I would, and I love seeing your guys' requests every day and reading through them over and over again.

and guys, let me tell ya', there isn't a better feeling in the world than completing and posting one, because whew...!! it's like having an endless supply of inspiration fr, I love it.

anyways, robin's will be posted soon after this one, so be on the lookout🫡😼 !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

@in3rci4

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

2,103 words

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

[dalekofchaos]

Friendly reminder. Bruce Wayne hung up the suit and retired after THREATENING someone with a gun and this was his reaction.

And then his immediate reaction is to shut down and close the Batcave and his only words were. "Never again"

A truly tragic, but fitting way for Bruce’s career to end. Powerful stuff. Batman's career ended the same way it began: with a desperate man wielding a gun

Batman choosing not to be weak like Joe Chill >>>> Batman going on a killing spree because fighting crime is hard.

And by the way, since Zack Snyder says his inspiration was Dark Knight Returns, I got news for you, TDKR Batman doesn't kill either.

Zack Snyder is a complete blithering fucking idiot.

his statement on Batman just lines up with what I’ve seen from all of his work. He likes the idea of the comics he makes movies out of but he doesn’t actually understand their themes. A Batman that kills is pointless. An edgy Superman is not only the most boring way to write him, but doesn’t make any sense without the wholesome one. That’s why injustice Superman/brightburn/Plutonian/omniman/homelander kind of make sense in their own ways because the original exists to compare them to.(mostly also boring though) His take on watchmen was pretty much devoid of any of the actual commentary from the graphic novel, but instead was just a dark justice league that were pretty bad at their jobs. Rorschach was just framed as a kind of unhinged Batman, but still a badass that does good, which is wildly generous compared to the way he’s originally written. I can understand turning your brain off and coasting through an action movie, but his fans are delusional if they think he does any of these stories justice. I wouldn’t take any of his comments seriously if they would stop letting him make these mediocre movies.

Zack Snyder is all flash and no substance. His films are visually stunning but utterly lacking in compelling storytelling.

The point of Batman is he cannot 'stoop to their level'. He HAS to be better, he HAS to believe these criminals can be rehabilitated, because if he kills them, he becomes just like them. With his wit, his intellect, he could future proof the city against crime ever happening by just killing the criminals before they commit crimes based on probable statistics and similar themes. But a Batman who refuses to kill is a murderer by inaction. Every time he chooses not to put Joker in the ground, he's allowed him to slaughter dozens, hundreds more, just for a laugh. Batman is equally guilty for every one of those deaths, because he could simply kill the Joker, and stop him from ever killing again. But he doesn't. Snyder saying Batman can kill, Batman SHOULD kill, is to say that without batman doing so, or being able to, he is just as bad as the villians. Except dipshit doesn't even have his Batman kill The Joker. "Oopsie daisy, Joker got out and bombed a hospital full of people, sowwwwyyyy, I put him back in jail again dunt worry TeeHeee :3". And then next week we do it all over again. OR. You kill the Joker, and he never hurts another person again. Which is why Jason Todd works so well as a counter to batman, and SHOULD be what Snyder is looking into. The reason why Zod works so well as a villain is because Humans are flawed apes who cant be trusted to govern themselves and should be conquered, and Superman, a literal God, could fix all that, but doesn't, because of Hope. Its foolish, childish even, to consider that a solution. And when placed in the vacuum of a comic book it works because you have to suspend disbelief, and forget that Superman let a city full of people die while he punched Zod through skyscrapers.

If you want Batman to kill people, just go and read one of his 1784956th copies that kill people. Go read Midnighter. Go read Punisher. Go read Moon Knight. Go read Peacemaker. Go read Nighthawk. What is stopping you?

I'm sure all those characters have brought about the peace and prosperity and the crime-free society that a "killer Batman" was supposed to. "Punisher would clean Gotham in under a week", right, just like he cleaned Marvel's New York, didn't he?

It has to be Batman specifically the one doing the killing? The number of superheroes that kill is nowadays much higher than the number of heroes who don't. Remember how Hawkeye spent the better part of his existence being the most anti-killing Avenger? Nowadays he is known as a super-assassin that "never had a non-kill rule". Should heroes who don't kill go extinct?

I like that Batman doesn't kill people. I feel no need to turn him into something he isn't like it was done to Hawkeye. If I wanted a Batman that kills, I would go and read one of the thousand "Batman who kills" out there.

Batman should not kill and should never kill.

"Gotham would be better off if Batman just killed The Joker"

You. Miss. The. Entire. Point.

Bruce Wayne lost his parents to crime and Bruce Wayne is a child who died alongside his parents and was reborn as a creature dedicated to insuring it never happened to any other child. He made a vow never to reduce himself to the criminal scum’s level or to Joe Chill’s level. He never kills for a reason.

Batman not killing is what makes him so compelling, if he kills criminals, there is no moral conflict, he is no better than the Punisher, Wolverine or any other dark edgy hero. Hell, if he starts to take a life, Batman is no better than Ra’s Al Ghul.

In the Daredevil Netflix show, Frank Castle told Daredevil this “That’s not how this works. You cross over to my side of the line, you don’t get to come back from that. Not ever.” That alone is why Batman should not kill, not even The Joker. Bruce Wayne is not Frank Castle, stop trying to make him Frank Castle. I mean…Stan Lee was absolutely disgusted when someone called The Punisher a hero, Frank Castle is a murderer, not a hero. How is this so hard for people to understand?

I don’t want to hear that Batman killed in the old comics and I don’t want to hear Elseworld stories. It’s an established fact that Batman does not kill and it’s a big part of his character.

Guess what? We already got a Bruce who killed The Joker, it happened in the Burtonverse/Schumacherverse and he was disgusted with himself. “So, you're willing to take a life.” “Long as it's Two-Face.” “Then it will happen this way: You make the kill, but your pain doesn't die with Harvey, it grows. So you run out into the night to find another face, and another, and another, until one terrible morning you wake up and realize that revenge has become your whole life. And you won't know why.”

A huge part of Bruce’s character is that he doesn’t kill, no matter what. Same with Clark. But edgelord writers from the New 52, DCEU and the Injustice abominations think it’s cool to make heroes kill. Heroes should not kill. You can’t be a hero and a killer. IT DOESN’T WORK THAT WAY!

Guess what would happen if Batman kills The Joker? The Joker wins. The Joker and Batman are each trying to prove a point to society - and really to us, the readers. The Joker wants Batman to kill him because he perfectly embodies chaos and anarchy and wants to prove a point to everyone that people are basically more chaotic than orderly. This is why he is so scary: we are worried he may be right. If the Joker is right, then civilization is a ruse and we are all truly monsters inside. If the Joker can prove that Batman - the most orderly and logical and self-controlled of all of us - is a monster inside, then we are all monsters inside, and that is terrifying. The Joker is terrifying because we fear that we are like him deep down - that he is us. Batman is what we (any average person) could be at our absolute best, and the Joker is what we could be at our absolute worst. The Joker’s claim is that we are all terrible deep down, and it is only the law and our misplaced sense of justice that keeps us in line. Since Batman isn’t confined by the law, he is a perfect test case to try to get him to "break.” The Joker wants Batman to kill a person, any person, but knows that the only person Batman might ever even remotely consider killing would have to be a terrible monster, so is willing to do this himself and sacrifice himself to prove this macabre point. Batman needs to prove that it is not just laws that keep us in line, but basic human decency and our natural instinct NOT to kill. If Batman can prove this, then others will be inspired by his example (the citizens of Gotham, but again, also the readers), just as we are all inspired every day to keep civilization running smoothly and not descend into violence, anarchy, and chaos. This ability to be decent in the face of the horrors and temptations present all around us is humanity’s superpower, the superpower of each of us. The struggle of Batman and the Joker is the internal struggle of each of us. But we are inspired by Batman’s example, not the Joker’s, because Batman always wins the argument, because he has not killed the Joker.

Batman not killing matters. Batman stories to me are the ultimate tale of turning pain and suffering into something positive. That is a story that everyone can relate to because let's be honest here. The world can suck. I've experienced and probably will always experience feelings of fear of depression of anger of angst. It's in my nature as a human being to experience those things. It's in all our nature it is what we choose to do with that pain that we all feel that defines us. Batman chose to turn all those negative emotions, he feels into a symbol that can bring people. Hope that Batman will save us from pain but more importantly hope that we can all be Batman. Why do we fall? And Batman Begins explains this best “Why do we fall sir? So that we can learn to pick ourselves up.”

Yes, Bruce Wayne is a flawed crazy person. He is at times mean stubborn and even abusive but he is still good. He is still someone we can aspire to be. We can try our hardest to be Superman but no human being can fly, but we can still try to be Batman We can all try to turn our pain into something good when I see Batman killing people or fans saying he killed before and he should kill The Joker, It pains me. It actually hurts my soul. Batman is not about finding a way to kill evil. But try to redeem it. His mission is an impossible task. Maybe he should kill people. Maybe he should kill The Joker, but what makes him fascinating what makes him a hero Is the fact that he has that moral code and stopped himself from crossing that line That's why I always looked up to Batman even as a kid despite all the adult subtext or mature themes superheroes are for kids. And killing is not Batman and it is not Bruce Wayne. This is why I hated the portrayal in the DCEU and the Burtonverse and why I really hated the implication that Batman killed The Joker in Batwoman. A Batman who kills is certainly not Bruce Wayne, that is an interpretation of Bruce Wayne that completely misses the point of Batman. It's easy to kill. Batman does not make the easy choice… Batman does not kill.

[mishy-mashy]

Kudo is actually such a kind, soft-hearted guy that had to toughen up because he cared too much

He looked at AFO's rule, and even though he was weak, he had that glint in his eye that has been referred to as the "will of a hero" to oppose him. A hopeful glint shared with Midoriya, Bakugo, and Hawks

He even parallels Hawks when they talk about that particular look in their eye

From a glimmer in the eye, to which eye is shown, how much of the face, a similar angle of the face, and placement of text questioning the existence of that light,

He stormed to kill Yoichi with Bruce, but couldn't, once he saw the state Yoichi was in. Even knowing he was the enemy, he still reached out his hand and never let go, even when they were running

When Yoichi died, even though they'd only been together for two months, Kudo still cried and froze up.

This is a reaction from a man who repeatedly used lives as a stepping stone for his own goal.

Kudo said himself, that victory was life, and defeat was death. He had killed and seen his friends killed over and over, but still cries when it happens again. And to someone he only knew for two months, at that.

Kudo gathered allies under his cause, and they were loyal enough to die for him. Bruce cries (still smiling tho) facing AFO, tried protecting Kudo when he froze up at Yoichi's death, and we see all Kudo's comrades dead in the end. Maybe Bruce was suicidal when he went to face AFO, knowing he'd die, but most of his comrades (and Kudo) were already gone. Their cause was snuffed out, but the will persisted.

Kudo is a bit like Aizawa.

A bit crass and blunt, doesn't like beating around the bush, but he can clearly see what kind of person you are. He's not openly kind, but you know he cares so much, but has also lost too much once. He's seen his friend(s) die, and shouldn't it have been him in that spot? Shouldn't he have died instead, but was forced to continue living for that dead person's sake?

His speech about why we call Abilities "Quirks", recognizing people's intent over raw power is the real power. (Ch 369)

He's blunt and goes straight to the results rather than beat around the bush, but it doesn't mean his heart is frozen and he doesn't care about you. (Ch 408)

He cares so much, and that's why he has to do so much. (His whole Resistance thing, figuring out how Yoichi's Factor works to make sure Yoichi and his will can live on in some way)

He recognizes that Midoriya isn't driven by duty, but that he genuinely adores Quirks too much. (Ch 414) He could look at Midoriya, read that immediately, and even though he looked through his memories, Midoriya's character was his takeaway. Not that Midoriya is an idiot for letting himself be stepped on, or that this kid was bullied, but that Midoriya could see the goodness in others.

Like how Aizawa saw that Midoriya was relying on the reason [It can't be helped] whenever OFA broke his bones and told him he can't always break himself just because he could be fixed (Midoriya's recklessness that showed itself on the first day of school). He called out something that was an underlying, innate belief to Midoriya, that was so normal to the teen, and no one else had brought up as wrong to him.

The first thing they perceive is a person's character.

When Aizawa tied up Midoriya on the first day of school, he wasn't telling him off over his Quirk destroying him being a PR thing or too gruesome for the public. It was out of the fact that his Quirk shouldn't destroy him, because it's dangerous for Midoriya.

Aizawa came off antagonistic, but he was looking out for Midoriya. He didn't want him to keep breaking his whole arm, he didn't want him to get stuck in the mindset that he had to get hurt to use his Quirk, he was looking out for his wellbeing from the start. A kid he didn't know personally until that day.

Kudo did a similar thing. He turned his back, and refused to help, because they were putting their hopes in a delusional boy who would go too far. When the vestiges realized their gathered Abilities and Quirks were letting Midoriya have the freedom to do as he wished, Kudo already knew, only saying "His path is the right one". He could relate to having to run full-sprint to see your goal realized, even if everything opposed him, but didn't want Midoriya to go through that same path alone.

If he were alone, he'd be like Nagant. He had to have comrades to be like Kudo, able to continue and stand for their beliefs, but having comrades to fall back on, or pull him back when it's too much. That's why he follows up in that moment with, "But, if there's something Midoriya does need..."

Kudo and Aizawa could see themselves or their comrades in others, and knew how to approach those character flaws that were normalized to others and said person.

Kudo could see others for who they were, and I think it's this, and his caring nature, that he gathered so many allies with him. He knew when to be blunt, when to show kindness, that the truth hurts but needs to be seen, was actually very logical and witty, and when to step aside and let people do their thing, even if it wasn't the best move (like saving All Might). Because that was what was best for that person.

It's not like people would join someone so wholeheartedly without conviction and being left unseen by that person. So many people were willing to die with and for Kudo, and Bruce believes in him so much.

When All Might's vestige was fading and becoming more solid, Kudo had to look away. They knew it meant All Might was dying in the real world.

Kudo was telling Midoriya not to intervene with Gearshift there. But once he saw All Might genuinely dying out, he couldn't look at him, and kept quiet. He stopped hanging onto battlefield logic of necessity, shut up, let Midoriya do his thing, and it saved All Might. It saved Midoriya from seeing his idol die in front of him, and Kudo didn't have to see another ally die beside him.

The chapter is literally called [We Love You All Might!!]. Even if it's just meant to focus in Bakugo and Midoriya, and only has 2 exclamation marks, it can't discount the world is watching. The vestiges care about All Might too.

When the vestiges come up with the plan to forcibly transfer themselves to deal damage, Kudo volunteers himself as the test dummy. Sure, he backs it with a lot of reason too, but he didn't want anyone else to go first as a test drive

He, with a Gearshift Ability that resembled a manual car, was the test drive. Ha ha pun- *gets shot*

En tried going first. Kudo rejected him, saying he would go first.

"Part ways with Gearshift [me], and you'll be free of the crippling recoil too."

Too. TOO.

KUDO JUST WANTED TO GO AND BE DESTROYED FIRST. HE PUT THE FREEDOM OF RECOIL DOWN AS AN EXTRA BONUS SO THEY'D AGREE WITH HIS CHOICE.

I'd cut the image so it looks better, and I can use Bruce's words elsewhere, but this is an image limit, so,

- Kudo refused to let anyone else go first. This was before giving reasons to convince them he should leave first

- En gives reason to why it can't be Kudo. Kudo just says, "Listen." and reminds them of now.

- Look at Kudo's face when he says that. The guy knows what he's doing when he cuts off En, and would probably be a horrible liar. He might as well be pulling this out of his ass.

He's said "The world will end" "You have to or else" "Five minutes" "You're going to die" a few times in this fight already. DUDE STOPPP

(Terrible liar and a guy who purposely eggs you to torment? What a great friend he would be [yknow, when u make ur friends freak out by being ominous or reminding them of stuff. Like Toast to Lilypichu in a game of Observation Duty])

- "Too."

- Bruce's trust in him, but knowing when to pull Kudo back from going too far

Also, when he's transferred, he smiles to Midoriya. He knows he's about to die again, but the last thing he does for Midoriya is

1) Take away the recoil of his existence as a Factor on the boy

2) Reassure him that it's okay, so it doesn't weigh on his conscience

Even if only in thought, STILL!

KUDO LOOKED SO PROUD OF MIDORIYA!

I bet Kudo is suuuch a sentimental fool

> [Be me and watch your new friend die]

> [I have Yoichi's Factor]

> [It's like I carry his will now]

> [Have a glint of opposition in my eye that drives the Demon Lord and my comrades (Bruce) crazy]

> [Hey Bruce, let's figure out how it transfers]

> [Bruce's common sense VS my rabid ideas]

> [I win]

> [Bruce was unwilling the whole time and still ends up with the Factor]

> [The Factor is named One For All, after something in Yoichi's favorite comic book series]

> [We pass it on to the future to carry forward]

> [Even as everyone else and me dies, I make sure Yoichi and his will are safe from his Demon Lord brother that locked him up]

> [Decades later, my sweet vaulted friend reminds me of when we met]

> [I turn around and give my whole-hearted support to believe in some 15-year old boy because Yoichi believes in him too]

SEN - TIM - ENT - AL!

When Shinomori was stolen by AFO, Shinomori pushed everyone away before they could really notice the invader. Kudo called out for him.

Everyone is in shock, but I don't think it's a mistake that the text bubble calling out for Shinomori is pointing from Kudo.

All For One made it through and is ready to steal them, but the first thing Kudo did was call out for the one at the very front.

[On the post I made that mentions Shinomori pushing everyone away] What if Kudo wasn't pushed away? What if this was him at the front, realizing the danger and turning around, but being unable to do anything for Shinomori when he saw?

Like Bruce, Kudo communicates. He doesn't expect you to just follow or understand him. He actually lays it out and makes sure you keep up.

He explains

- the transfer of vestiges, and why he should go first

- his Quirk

- why Quirks are Quirks

- reports to Midoriya what's happening and what's next

- to Yoichi why they couldn't trust in a delusional boy. In a way that wasn't Bruce's roundabout "we lived in a terrible era and a leader gathered us"

When En panics, he barks at En to keep up. By barking at him, rather than any other way he could've used his tone, it shuts up En in his frantic babbling. Kudo also lets Vestige Might put in his thoughts to understand better, and uses it.

Eye reflection. Kudo can really see people for who they are, and understands others, and himself.

I can't repeat the pics cuz image limit, but look at previous panels here. For example, Kudo saying Yoichi's will lives in him, and when AFO reflected in his eyes

It's something I learned from Re:Zero. When a person in reflected in one's eye, something something that person can see the true core of you, of what you really are underneath everything. The eyes are the window and mirror [glass] of the soul. I finally see the true you.

AFO never reflected anyone.

But Kudo reflected AFO when the man accidentally killed Yoichi. He saw that AFO wasn't seeing anything, so later, Kudo smiled and mocked AFO at his own death.

"Yoichi?"

"He's gone."

"You killed him, Demon Lord."

And AFO hated that reminder.

Kudo was reminding him of what the truth was. Kudo saw it himself, and AFO blocked it out from the get-go. Kudo already knew what AFO was, what he was seeing, what he was doing to himself by blaming Kudo instead of himself.

And then, Kudo's eyes reflected his own hand when he realized Yoichi's Factor was in him.

Kudo clearly saw himself, and in himself, Yoichi. Nothing distorted it. It really was a clear mirror.

He really perceived Yoichi's will was living on, and was right. Otherwise, his eyes wouldn't have shown it.

Kudo was right about AFO. It's even implied back when he and Bruce had their backs turned; Kudo knew what AFO's real goal was. That was back when AFO preached unity and division under him.

Kudo could always see right through AFO. He really understood people from the start. And he never tried making up truths to justify what he was seeing, facing it head-on.

Kudo's lying about the world being black and white.

Kudo and Bruce saw the world as black and white. This was mentioned in the void.

Kudo also says, "Victory meant life. Defeat meant death."

But it's the Resistance. It's when Japan and the world was at their lowest. The world wasn't black and white; there's lots of gray.

Kudo and Bruce would've seen this. Kudo even admits that there's gray, just not directly.

Kudo says Yoichi knows, how he killed and trampled so many lives, to get back at AFO. He knows it wasn't right, or an amazing choice. Later, he says that when your back is against the wall, you have to make callous judgements. These hint at gray moments.

Kudo and Bruce have faced and been in the gray. But it's too hard to make the right choices, and there are times there is no right answer.

Historically, soldiers would convince themselves the enemy were monsters. They wouldn't be able to fight and kill them otherwise. They wouldn't be able to live with themselves without believing in this so badly.

Kudo and Bruce had to have been the same way. They were Meta Humans [Monsters] in a time they were viewed as diseased humans. The monsters were real. And they had a Demon Lord. Kudo and Bruce literally dressed up as soldiers.

Even if they were monsters to society, being Meta, Kudo and Bruce were still human. They knew this. The ones who tried believing in only black and white were inhabitants of the gray itself.

But they have to protect themselves. Kudo is so adamant that the world is only black and white, because he can't stand the gray. What it makes him do, what it means, that he's too weak to do anything.

Yoichi is an example of that gray area. The mortal enemy's younger brother, was actually locked up and sickly. He's just a comic book nerd. And it humanized the other side Kudo opposed so vehemently.

Kudo says victory is life and defeat is death. And Yoichi asked why he reached out to him then. He reminded Kudo of that gray area, and Kudo opened up.

Kudo might avoid the gray area because it's a matter of the heart and a moral dilemma, but it's what makes him human. When there's no right answer in the battlefield, he decides on his feelings instead.

He wishes the world was black and white, because it'd be so easy. But it's not.

Yoichi reminded him of how entering that gray area led to OFA ("when you reached out your hand to me"), and it had been the best choice in the end. The gray area is real, and Kudo's left a bare man with only his emotions when he's there.

Kudo is actually really kind and understanding. He's too soft for his own good. Thanks if you made it this far, I hope it makes sense (tag and image limit)

[inkedberries]

Hey! Prefacing this by saying that this isn't meant to be an attack (which generally isn't a great way to start a message but I'd rather be clear about intentions) and more so genuine curiosity. Apologizing in advance for this being long; I have a tendency to overthink and overexplain.

I don't typically interact with fandom outside of like... carefully curated little microbiomes. As such I haven't really encountered the whole proship/anti shit with any amount of seriousness since probably around 2018. I personally don't put much stock into either of the terms because there's far too much grey area and for the fact that (as per my understanding) exist as ethical frameworks, and I don't care much for subscribing purely to a single framework to the exclusion of anything else in terms of personal ethics and morality. At most with friends we tend to colloquially refer to incest + pedophile ships as proships, because that's just sort-of what the term has evolved to mean most strongly (again, at least in the circles I run in). I don't consider myself anti or proship or whatever the fuck else, because I generally don't care to involve myself with that kind of fandom drama. I'll involve myself over like, matters of being anti-bigotry but the rest is just something I haven't wanted to deal with for 5-6 years. Tagging + filtering + block functions exist for a reason, and I don't need to do anything more than prevent my feed from showing me those things. I generally just hit block and move on with that kind of stuff, especially because I'm anti-censorship for a variety of reasons.

Tl;dr on that: proship/anti aren't terms I really use or subscribe to, because I feel like they oversimplify everything and conflate "drama". From my understanding, I agree with proship ideology (????) in the sense that I believe censorship only fucks over everyone, and that you can just block + filter and move on. But at the same time I see this overall conception that 'proship' means you support/condone/etc incest and pedophilia and so on, which I really truly don't. But there is this really heavy perception that proship = this person ships (usually) pedophilic or incestuous relationships. A bit reinforced for me typically because when something like that comes across my feed and I go to block the person, they generally have 'proship' in their bio. That to acknowledge that I do have some bias in that, even if I know it's a correlation/not cause thing. That all being (over)said (and I'm SO sorry again about how fucking long this is, my twitter TL is having a meltdown and I've avoided all this stuff for so long I don't know if I'm missing something? Because ethically on my end there's no reason for me to block or whatever outside of just the word proship...? Two minutes for a quick search as as far as I can tell you don't participate in anything against my own comfort/moral beliefs. so) I guess I'm asking what your definition of proship is for yourself and why people are jumping to this conclusion of dislike so instantaneously? Obviously you're under no obligation to educate me on what I presume is fucking YEARS of fandom history, nor respond publicly or even at all. I'm only asking you specifically because this is the first time I've encountered 'being proship' ≠ shipping pedophilia etc etc. I think maybe I came across it way back when as a middle schooler, but I'm not about to trust any of my opinions/recollections from when I was that age lmao. But anyways. Just genuinely curious and wanting to understand because I'm wary of reacting too-quickly just because other people are, and especially so if it's actually a total non-issue for me. Sorry again for the insane rambling in this lol

hello!! i hope you don't mind me prefacing this response too by saying to please read this out fully, if you don't agree with the starting points i've provided, i hope you still continue on reading until the end💙 i think @/frownyalfred best words the defense i would most likely stumble on if i give it a go at answering your question with my own words

and this was a post made in 2016 (where a lot of ppl say is the year anti-shippers started sprouting up) and this is honestly what i mean when i say i hate antis

if anything, antis just started the propaganda that all proshippers are incest lovers and pedophiles and people ate it up like cats who haven't had wet food in three weeks. as proven by your friend group using the term as such? that's wild to me that ppl use the term proship like that, i hope the case i'm making will change that for you and your friend group.

no, proship literally is anti-censorship. ship and let ship. antis gatekeep, police shippers and harass anyone who doesn't ship their ship the RIGHT way. and it's not just the ships you say are 'harmful' or 'immoral'. i've shipped a rarepair before and the fandom at large did not like me shipping a rarepair so they started calling me a pedophile bc i aged up said characters???????? they'll find anything and i mean ANYTHING to twist everything i say and do to make it seem like it's "okay" for me to be harassed and bullied. "oh it's okay that i'm telling this person to die because they're gross," yeah no that behavior is So Much More Normal than a person shipping two fictional characters the "wrong" way. AND YOU KNOW WHAT'S FUCKED UP? ppl BELIEVED THEM LMAOOOO

and hey no sweat, i was like you once. i didn't define myself as proship or anti bc the real world exists but then in the one space i thought i'd be free from real life speculation and surveillance i get these anti policing assholes so yeah im a proshipper now lol just to get away from that bs. i honestly just want to have fun on here without judgement but i can't even have that lol that's why im all about blocking/muting.

you say your tl is having a meltdown? well shit, they're probably calling me names on there too. probably throwing out baseless accusations without fact checking bc i'm lowlife enough not be respected or given the decency of a fact check? or saying my art wasn't good anyway? bc gatekeeping their precious kudoichi is so much more righteous, top priority that they start slandering a real life person, right? no no no one disgusting should be touching or shipping our precious kudoichi lmao i hope you see how Not Right this is. kinda makes me feel sick for real lol

and i hope you understand how harmful this is not just to my mental state but my livelihood as an artist as these people would just start policing their fellow fans and just tell them not to support or view my art because im a 'proshipper' not even that, they'd probably just straight up say i support incest and pedophilia which are?????? such STRONG accusations to make????????? now they're just buzzwords. BUZZWORDS for antis to use to defame and cancel an artist! a real life person. over their precious fictional characters. over their precious kudoichi. oh man it makes it so much more stupid if i specify the ship, what is wrong with people sometimes😭

but hey im all about blocking and muting and unfollowing if you don't like my stuff i'm 100% for that but i hope they do it on their own terms. their own thinking. not because someone told them to.

and i dunno man that behavior of not even letting their 'friends' think for themselves, that they'd bash them too if they support me, my art, kinda seems like grooming don't it? or nah no im just looking into it. it might not be that deep. but i really yeah that's why i hate antis and why im more proship.

but hey i appreciate you even taking the time to come to me in the first place and uhhh idk i hope you found what you were looking for and that i answered your bit of curiousity there!

[comicarc]

𝐈 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐕𝐈𝐈)

previous • next

"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

wc: 2182

Night dawned on Gotham, blanketing the city with a moonless sky. y/n made her way to the hole which she had descended into all those nights ago, now completely covered. There was a barricade with two large men standing guard, checking people into a tent by verifying them on a list. y/n was apprehensive, not only because if anything went wrong she could die, but also because it was apparent there were no other girls there. Gulping down her hesitation, y/n attempted to exude an air of confidence to make herself seem unapproachable, as she took confident steps to the front of the line. Maybe she was being too cocky, but that was better than being seen as prey. 

Ignoring the groans and whistles of the men lined behind her, she looked the guards in the eye and mustered all her energy to her voice as she announced her name. She prayed they couldn’t hear the waver in her voice or the tremble of her hands. She was scared witless, but the wire pressed against her chest lay a constant reminder that her actions weren’t in vain. 

As soon as she was let in by the guards, y/n hid in a corner to catch her breath. Bruce had given her earrings to work as comms, so upon hearing her very loud pants, he reassured, “Hey, everything’s fine. The plan’s working and no one suspects a thing.”

His words had eased her rapidly racing heart a little, allowing her to emerge from her corner into the lion’s den. Before her lay rows and rows of tables resembling an assembly line. Red mushrooms on one end turned into some liquid solution at the other, being crushed, mixed and packaged throughout the sequence. Why did anyone want her here?

Someone appeared behind her as she took another stepping, introducing, “Ah here’s the lady of the hour.” He took her by the waist and spun her to face him as he continued, “I’m Jared Steve, head of the operation.”

He wasn’t like a typical creep, Jared was tall, muscular, and looked like he could get any girl he wanted. But his voice and his mannerisms gave away the ugly truth. “And what exactly is this operation?”

“Already interrogating, are we? He said you were feisty, but I never expected you to have this much fire.” He smirked, his curling lips sending a shiver down y/n’s spine. 

y/n remained quiet, as he brushed off his own question, “Well, it’s a new kind of drug. Something that the market’s never seen. Our main target is the children, for obvious reasons. They’re scared, stupid, or lusting to escape life.”

“So, what do you need me for?”

“You’ve got a reputation for being inconspicuous. Nothing intense, I just need you to plant this package in someone’s house. I’ve got the address right here, all you need to do is sneak in, leave it there, and text this number. With all the money you’ve smuggled for Philip Wilcox, I’d say this will be pretty easy for you.” He handed y/n a piece of paper with the details, before intensifying his tone, “Don’t fuck this up, or it’ll be your head being slaughtered.”

y/n took a moment to digest all the information she was given. There was no clear motive behind the operation other than it being a cash grab, but from what she heard, there was enough evidence to prove the existence and maliciousness of the operation. In thought for far longer than she was supposed to be, Bruce chimed through the earring urging her to come back to reality.

“You’ve gotta do this tonight. I’ve got high hopes for you, that is of course, if you’re anything like your mother.”

The offhanded comment caught y/n off guard like a deer in headlights. But ignoring it, y/n turned away from Jared and walked out of the tent, ready to end things for good. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The address led to the apartment next to hers on Crime Alley. It’s proximity to her own ‘home’ had raised her suspicions but she had no time to doubt. All she had to do was get in & get out and then all her worries would dissipate. No more ties to the Falcones. 

The box she held seemed to get heavier with each step, threatening to slip from her hands. Though confined in cardboard, y/n could tell there was something metallic inside with the light clink she heard every few minutes. 

Standing outside the door to the apartment she was meant to enter, y/n paused and let the silence surround her. Carefully, she leaned an ear against the door and listened. There was no shuffling of footsteps, no voices, absolutely nothing indicating that there was a soul inside. Taking it as a green light, y/n set down the box, fished out a bobby pin from her pockets, and fiddled with the lock until it was unlocked.

Taking the box again, this time adjusting it between her left arm and hip, y/n tip-toed inside, making sure she didn’t make a sound. Seeing that the coast was clear, she set down the box on a wooden dining table right in front of the entrance. Standing upright, she took a deep breath as if physically relinquishing the anxiety and stress that had been plaguing her. It was finally over, she was free. 

But, of course, nothing good ever lasts, and just as y/n was about to leave, sickeningly thin fingers grasped her wrist. “You’re here to kill me aren’t you?” The voice sounded defeated as it spoke. “I deserve it, I know that, but I’d hoped that it would be on my own terms.” 

Curious as always, y/n wanted to know more. So, she did exactly what she shouldn’t have as she inquired, “What…did you do?”

“You don’t know?” He lightly chuckled before resuming, “I killed some very important people.”

“A Falcone?” 

“Two Waynes.” y/n heard Bruce gasp through the earring. The target was Joe Chill, and if he knew he was going to be killed then the package had to be a bomb.

“Why?”

“I was dumb and desperate. I thought I could hide, get away from it all with one final job, but Gotham stays with you, even if you leave it. Trust me kid, this isn’t the end, its just the beginning.”

“Why warn me about an inevitability then?”

“So that you don’t make the same mistake I did.” Unhanding y/n, he placed in her palm a stack of files and pushed her outside of the apartment. As soon as she fell onto the carpeted hallway, the cardboard exploded and took Joe with it. 

The apartment burst into flames, the fire rapidly spreading to other parts of the building. Instinct kicked in and y/n ran to her own apartment, gathering her stuff in a backpack before the flames could reach her. After a few minutes of packing, she raced out of the apartment and stood a few feet from the entrance, watching the flames engulf the building in a matter of moments. 

The bomb couldn’t have gone off without the sender knowing it had arrived. Either there was timer or someone tracking her, the latter of which seemed a more reasonable option. Thinking back to her interaction with Jared, y/n remembered he had touched her waist. Feeling her midsection, y/n felt a bump on the back of her jacket. A tracker.

The bomb had left her ears ringing, so she hadn’t registered Bruce’s voice until after she crushed the tracker. “y/n, what the hell happened? Are you alright? Was it Chill, did he do something?”

“I’m fine, let’s meet back at your mansion in the morning.” Bruce continued talking, but y/n had enough for the day. Taking off the earring, removing the wire, and stuffing the files that Joe gave her into her backpack, y/n began walking.

She couldn’t sleep on the street or any bench, so she’d have to settle for a rooftop. Lucky for her, she knew exactly where to go. Arriving at her destination, y/n climbed up a pipe, settled in a corner, curled into herself, and fell asleep clutching her backpack and watching the sky. 

What is to give light must endure burning, so she had decided that the darkness of this night would cool her. Under the blanket of stars, she’d relinquish the buzzing in her mind, allowing it to fly with the fireflies. By morning her thoughts would be silent enough for the joy of freedom to echo through the hollowness of her skull. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Left hanging by y/n, Bruce’s anger blinded him from his sense of compassion. What did Joe Chill have to do with the Falcones? If they were involved in his parent’s death, he had to have a surefire way of getting Carmine convicted. 

He’d been investigating for months and had finally found a cop worthy of his badge. A certain detective Jim Gordon had both influence and honesty in his blood, just the perfect combination to put one of Gotham’s most malicious cronies behind bars. He’d be able to convince Dent Sr. to help with getting a lawyer and the case in general. y/n would get him his evidence. Everything was in place for his plan to work. 

But y/n, she needed to be safe from it all. After all a promise is a promise, and Bruce Wayne always keeps his word. She hadn’t left his thoughts for days, and even now she occupied his mind as he worried for her life.

Sense finally kicked in, and Bruce rushed out the doors of his home, heading to Crime Alley to find y/n. The explosion must’ve surely hurt her, and he couldn’t leave her there to fend for herself in such a bad area. 

An hour or so later, he found y/n on a rooftop freezing in her sleep. In the place where his parents were murdered, the place that haunted him every night, left him tossing and turning until bags formed under his eyes, Bruce knew he’d die here too. It was only a matter of time, for here he was helpless, and no amount of money would save him from death he had cheated. But at that moment, watching y/n smile in such a decrepit state, he couldn’t help but let the thought of her dying overshadow his own fears. 

Slinging her backpack onto his shoulder and picking her up in both his arms, he held her even tighter than he had at the bar, allowing her face to sink into his chest as he walked to his car. Setting her gently in the backseat, he drove out of Park Row back to his mansion. 

Upon arriving back home, he didn’t take her to the same bedroom as the previous night. Rather he sat in the backseat, letting her head lean in his lap as he brushed her hair and watched the color return to her skin. 

In the comfort of silence, he felt as though he needed to get something off of his chest. Thus, he confessed, “Wayne means many things to many people, and to each I am a different person. I’m a rich asshole, a pitiful orphan, an influential figurehead, a reckless idiot, or a gold digger’s dream, but really, I’m a curse. And you, you’re the only one who makes me feel human.

“I know it sounds stupid, but it started in our first year at the Academy, when you got a 100% on our chemistry test. You beat me, and no one beat me. It felt refreshing to have someone see past my ‘power’ and treat me like I wasn’t a god amongst humans that shouldn’t be crossed. And so I started to retaliate, hoping that I’d get your attention. 

“Honestly, I’d never studied for a test in my life as hard as I’d done for you. Just so you’d look my way and think I’m not like the other guys, that I used my wealth and endless resources to further myself instead of blowing it off on pointless stuff. And when that didn’t work, I wanted to get you jealous, using other girls. And when that didn’t work I used the race, to try and impress you.

“Now in hindsight, all that may have come across as a completely different message, but what more can you expect from a boy who has never known true affection? 

“I’ve hurt everyone I’ve been with, from flings to my parents. I can’t seem to give people happiness. I thought I could help you, save you from the real Gotham, beyond the Academy, but look what I’ve done…”

He hesitated, before placing a kiss on y/n’s forehead and admiring her sleeping figure. A part of him hoped she had heard him, that his feelings could be understood. But another part prayed she hadn’t, for he feared she’d only be hurt even more knowing the truth.

˖ ࣪🦇𓆰♡𓆪🦇ִ ࣪⋆

taglist: @earth-to-name

[regretsofaghost]

Let Me Break Your Heart

Prev- Survival May Be the Hardest Part

AO3 link- here

Prev-

                  They didn’t know where he went.

                  They searched the area after Scarecrow was secured, but like every other time they thought they had him, he vanished.

                  The only thing they still had was the mask he put on Bruce.

                  It was a decent gas mask, adjustable for multiple people with a good seal on it. It had an odd smell, that of ozone and petrichor. Other than that, no DNA, no fingerprints, nothing to tie the mask anywhere, not even a manufacturer.

                  Bruce really didn’t like this, especially because a kid was involved.

                  The only lead they had was Amity Park.

                  Danny crashed in a random alley.

                  He hadn’t meant to, he just, ran out of energy to keep going.

                  That sounded bad, maybe it was bad.

                  Danny let his transformation happen, gasping as the nerve endings in his side sent a painful reminder of their existence.

                  He wasn’t dead yet.

                  Danny let out a little laugh, feeling his burnt side, fingers sinking into the burnt flesh as he gasped, using the pain to ground him.

                  It didn’t matter if it was real or not, if it was the fear gas or if the Guys in White actually showed up, Danny needed to focus.

                  He stood up, eyes darting around the alley he fell into, shadows licking at him, the lightning seemingly in the distance now. Danny was taking too many chances, there was no way the Guys in White weren’t on his tail now, especially after that little confrontation with Scarecrow.

                  But, if it meant saving people, he would continue to take those chances.

                  The best lead they had was Amity Park.

                  It wasn’t the most fruitful of searches, at first.

                  There were multiple articles detailing the rise in paranormal activity that plagued the town, starting only a year ago despite the town’s slogan being “most haunted town in America.” The “ghost” of the week often making it into the paper after Phantom resolved the issue.

                  Concerts, circuses, the local high school, nothing was safe from the ghosts, and yet, a familiar figure in a HAZMAT suit was able to stop them all.

                  Bruce could only hope that the small town had neglected to contact the Justice League with such threats, rather than the very real chance that they were being blocked from them.

                  Very little was publicly known about Phantom, even less privately. That would have been a dead end to their search, if Barbara hadn’t noticed a strange article about an endangered species, a purple back gorilla.

                  Daniel Fenton wasn’t a complete match to Bruce’s memory, Daniel’s cheeks softer, Phantom’s eyes were wider, if you ignored those small differences, those small things that made it seem like he was a good match if moved slightly to the left, it could be their ghost boy. They had no photos to compare Daniel to Phantom, all video corrupted beyond repair, so Barbara dug deeper, searching for Daniel’s whereabouts.

                  They found the accident report soon after.

                  Then, everything made a lot more sense.

          

                  Danny decided to take a page out of the Bats’ books and sit on top of a roof, eyes not on the city below but on the sky above. Lady Gotham had been so kind as to let him have a peek of stars every night. Maybe it was just her way of knowing he wouldn’t be brooding all the time.

                  Danny didn’t mind though; he missed the stars.

                  He was back in his HATMAT suit, back as Phantom.

                  His mask was back, firmly on his face.

                  Danny was just happy that he tended to fry digital cameras, there were already many articles about the Scarecrow developing phasmophobia after their last encounter.

                  Something seemed to be keeping the Guys in White out of Gotham.

                  Lady Gotham insisted it wasn’t her.

                  Danny just hoped it wouldn’t fail anytime soon.

                  He pressed his fingers against the ecto burn, safely hidden under his suit. Something had managed to hit him during the attack.

                  Nothing was guaranteed after all.

                  Scrodinger’s cat, dead and alive.

                  But living? Having a life?

                  Not till the box was opened.

                  Amity was the closest he got to looking at his face, since he left, he hadn’t even thought of it.

                  Until Batman needed his mask.

                  Maybe the Bats were due for a haunting.

                  Daniel Fenton was the son of Jack and Madeline Fenton, two of the world’s top ecto-biology and paranormal experts. They both had a number of papers published under their doctorates, most of which it seemed they now denounced. It was not often that you find a scientist willing to denounce all their prior research, so of course Bruce had to look deeper.

                  Madeline seemed to focus on the fact that they had found solid proof of sentience in the ghosts around their town, and Jack on the unethical nature of most, if not all, the weapons they had created prior. They were unanimous about the bias in their prior work, and their desire to do better.

                  In none of the papers did they say what experience, or experiment, had prompted such a change. It a spit in the face of all their prior experiments and research, a change that made little sense with what was given.

                  It just got worse from there.

                  Bruce put GIW aside, intent on figuring out more about these ghost hunters, after he found the mysterious child.

                  Jack and Madeline had begun to denounce their prior research three months ago, first updating their business website to announce their bias as well as their inability to see what was right in front of them.

                  Something had to have happened three months ago to prompt such a change.

                  Phantom was first sighted in Gotham about two and a half months ago.

                  Phantom had to have something to do with their change, it was no secret that they were hyperfocused on the hazmat suit ghost, often ignoring other ghosts in favour of their white whale.

                  The first mention of Phantom was on a social media post from a high schooler named Star, with a blurred picture of Phantom fighting, what looked like, a giant mound of ground beef.

                  The pictures never improved in quality, always grainy and barely clear enough to make out, more often than not with Phantom fighting some strange creature. His mask was on for every fight, nothing to prove or disprove Bruce’s memory.

                  Daniel had been absent from school for three months, for two weeks no one seemed to know where he was. After those two weeks the Fentons began to excuse his absences before pulling him from school with the reasoning being a severe injury. One look at the doctor’s note indicated it was from the accident a year prior, curiously more detailed than before.

                  Notes of bradycardia, his resting heart rate was 45-55 bpm, asthma, he couldn’t breathe sometimes, burns, and an impressive Lichenberg scar that started from his palm and went up towards his heart.

                  It was painting a picture Bruce hated.

                  Daniel’s accident a year prior was not considered severe, the only abnormality documented was the bradycardia that he developed, averaging 55 bpm. This new report indicated either his injuries got worse with time, or the first report downplayed the severity.

                  Somehow, if they were right, Daniel had become Phantom, and the Fentons had an involvement that Bruce couldn’t decipher.

                  Danny breathed slowly, in and out. He didn’t have to follow them back to their base, maybe if he revealed himself they would take him to a safe house to talk. He had to hope.

                  He nearly killed Robin,

                  The Bats weren’t the most forgiving bunch.

                  They wouldn’t (couldn’t?) kill him, but there were fates worse than death.

                  Danny scratched his palm.

                  It had to work.

                  It had to.

                  The Bats tended to favour certain building to brood from, ones that were high and had good vantage points, ones where you could see everything, and most can’t see you. He just had to wait and see if they approached.

                  Bingo.

                  “B, Phantom has been spotted near Crime Alley.’

                  Bruce paused after he landed, grappling hook in hand as he took a look around. He was about 5 minutes from Crime Alley.

                  “Is he moving?’

                  “No, it looks like he’s just, waiting. He’s on Park Row Theatre.” Oracle’s typing could be heard in the background, “You’re closest tonight, and maybe he won’t run from you like he has everyone else.”

                  Bruce’s thoughts were racing as he grappled towards Park Row Theatre, hoping against hope that Phantom would still be there when he arrived.

                  How do you help a ghost?

                  The Fentons denounced their research, Phantom appeared shortly after Daniel’s initial accident, Daniel and Phantom were missing for two weeks before Phantom was spotted in Gotham, and Daniel stayed missing.

                  The Fentons denounced their research.

                  Why?

                  Phantom stood near the roof’s edge, facing away from both Bruce and the ground, instead, appearing to look up at the sky above.

                  It’ll be the second time Bruce would notice this behaviour.

                  “Phantom?” His gravelly voice rang out over the city noise below, “You are a hard one to catch. Did you want to talk?”

                  The ghost turned around, a muffled voice coming from in front of Bruce, while he barely suppressed a flinch at the static filled one coming from his com link.

                  “Batman,” the boy said, “I think you want answers than I want to talk,” the figure in front of him was not so different from the one all those weeks ago, but at the same time, so similar. Black HAZMAT suit, gas mask, a feeling of fear slowly crawling up Bruce’s spine. It was hard to remember there was a boy in that oversized suit.

                  There were two paths Bruce could see, one of questions that were hard, ones that revolved around a trauma Bruce couldn’t see and one that the questions were painful, one that were likely to get the boy to run again.

                  “But,” Phantom stepped closer to Bruce, static getting worse, “I gave you my mask. Were you scared of what was underneath?”

                  Maybe there was a third path. One less traveled by, and that made all the difference.

                  “No,” Bruce didn’t hesitate, keeping his hands within view. He was about to continue before Phantom interrupted.

                  “I’ve never checked what’s underneath,” he said it almost conversationally, voice barely wavering, but the shake was there, “Schrodinger’s cat-“

                  “Both dead and alive until you open the box.” Bruce finished, “Do you know the answer, to that paradox, Phantom?”

                  Phantom stood in front of him, and suddenly, once again, Bruce wondered how he could believe this figure frightening, how he could believe him to be older than 18, he was definitely younger.

                  “I’m scared to,” the static got worse, “I haven’t checked myself. Both dead and alive, but it has to be one, right? Either or. Dead or alive. Not both. Not neither. Answers can be a lot,” his breathing was getting louder, quicker, “scarier.”

                  Bruce reached out, placing a hand on Phantom’s arm, and the boy’s gas mask tilted up to look at him.

                  “I haven’t lived in a long time. Survived, yes. I’m really good at that.”

                  Phantom was shaking, coldness seeping through Bruce’s gloved hand.

                  “Dead and alive. The question isn’t about living.”

                  Bruce brought one hand up, slow and careful, noting when Phantom noticed the destination.

                  “I want to though. Live, again. It’s-“

                  Bruce lifted the gas mask off Phantom’s face.

                  Phantom looked back at him.

                 

                  Danny was frozen, he couldn’t move.

                  Or maybe he wouldn’t.

                  He looked up at Batman.

                  And made an instinctive decision.

                  There was a bright flash of light, one that had Bruce closing his eyes. Once the impression on his eyes faded, he opened them.

                  Daniel Fenton stood in front of him. He was short, his hair was a dark shaggy mess, dark bruises were painted under his bright, blue eyes. At a glance, Daniel matched his boys.

                  Why did the Fentons to denounce their research?

[kawaiikenna]

Wrote this in an hour maybe? It’s time for bed. -_-;;; So enjoy this ficlet/long prompt/fic idea. Also this will probably be super triggering to some individuals. Please read with caution. I’m not going to tag all the tw’s though cause I’m faaaaar too tired. I’ll edit this tomorrow. Maybe. Eh, we’ll see.

Danny thought that life had been going just great. He had ended up being fostered by Wayne’s after a falling out with his parents over something that wasn’t even ghost related. The only reason why he was where he was, was because Bruce owed Vlad a favor. Danny didn’t know what kind of favor was owed, and he didn’t want to know. In the end he actually did get along with the gaggle of Wayne kids. It ended up being one of the most peaceful times in his life up until then.

Until it wasn’t.

The day had started off as normally as any other day he had been in the Wayne Manor. Danny woke up, got dressed, had breakfast with Bruce and the remaining siblings, then headed off to school. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except, Danny never made it to school.

There was no note, no call, nothing. It was as if Danny had suddenly stopped existing. No one saw anything. The cameras were spotty at best. They had no leads. Nothing to go off of. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Day after day, week after week. There was nothing until suddenly there was something.

An unaddressed envelope with several embossed tickets inside. Each ticket had a vigilante’s name scrawled in Danny’s very distinctive half cursive writing. That week on Friday night, there was to be a kind of traveling entertainer’s troupe in town. The main attraction was apparently a white haired boy that would end up doing all sorts of extremely dangerous tricks and dares. The batfam geared up and hoped that somewhere, somehow, they would be able to find Danny here at this almost circus themed attraction.

What they found instead was a completely empty building. The inside was set up in a way that made it seem like it was the inside of a Hollywood circus tent. Sheets of fabric hung from the ceiling, there was a ring set up in the center with a platform in the middle of that. A tightrope set up far above their heads, a metal hoop dangled down from the ceiling, thick ropes of fabric strung up on either side.

Suddenly, a bright spotlight lit up the center platform. There, two figures were illuminated. Both clowns but extremely different from each other. One the batfam knew almost intimately, Joker. The other, a stranger but he seemed to fit in with the aesthetic of their city.

All batfam members are incapacitated and forced to watch against their will. For some reason they’ve been wrapped up in 2D, neon green animals.

The two present the fantabulous Phantom. The white haired boy from the poster appeared from nowhere. As Joker and the newly introduced Freak Show narrated, Phantom did everything they said. He interacted with various props, did a few tricks, he juggled at one point. Sharp daggers whirling through the air in a professional practiced manner until Freak Show said that somehow Phantom had fumbled. True to his word, the boy did fumble. Sharp daggers falling haphazardly around him. The teen did not move a single inch, even as a dagger nearly pierced through the flesh of his cheek leaving a long bleeding cut down his face. Instead it buried itself into the unmoving teen’s shoulder. He pulls the dagger out of his shoulder nonchalantly and lets it clatter to the floor.

Without getting any kind of treatment the teen starts up one of the pillars to get to the tightrope platform. There’s no safety gear in sight as the teen starts to walk the tightrope. Joker and Freak Show commiserate him on almost getting to the other side. At the last moment, Phantom ‘slips’ and is now hanging comically by one hand on the rope.

Two Joker lackeys come out with an old fireman’s trampoline. They run back and forth as they try to predict where Phantom would fall. In the end though, they miss completely and Phantom ends up landing in a broken heap on the ground.

At this point the batfam are in a nearly crazed state. Even if they don’t know exactly who Phantom is, this was wrong. It was all WRONG.

Under Joker and Freak Show’s prodding and goading, Phantom gets back up. Multiple traumatic wounds can be seen. But in the next instant flesh stitches itself back together and bones mend themselves back under his skin and back into place.

~~~

So basically our two clown dimwits are physically bullying and hurting Danny. Freak Show has the teen under mind control again and makes him extremely docile. There’s no outward expression of any kind, his eyes are dead and unseeing. This goes on for a while until Freak Show tries to get Danny to hurt one of the batfam.

This does not go as planned at all and now they have an extremely angry and eldritch Danny on their hands. He goes on a rampage and ends up destroying nearly everything. But he still protects his newfound family, getting them out of harm’s way.

The batfam on the other hand have no clue how to process that their shy, sweet, quiet Danny is also the massive monster rampaging around.

After Danny had finally calmed down; he went straight to Bruce and promptly passed out. There was no waking the kid up until he decided to get up.

- - -

Will I expand on this idea? Meh. I’m not sure, maybe. I’d love to hear your guys’ thoughts on this though. -w-

[artsartblog]

I caved and finally made a Trolls oc. I don’t have a lot on her, but she’s a precious bean.

Briar is a pop troll, but she loves all kinds of music. She briefly lost her cool after feeling like she didn’t fit in amongst her fellow pop trolls when she just no longer felt happy singing or dancing to the pop music, but once she heard other music her color came back. She definitely enjoys rock more than pop, but purely because she’s gotten tired of hearing only pop for her whole life. Variety is key in keeping her happy. She got the skull belt after the events of World Tour because she just loved it so much. The flower in her hair is a clip on jewelry type thing, the flower is fake because she would have to constantly get a new flower every time the original one died. As stated above she lowkey a fan of BroZone. She liked them a lot when she was younger, but now that she’s older she feels silly for being so into the group. Though that does stop her from occasionally listening to their record every once in awhile as a way to just let her be herself.

I really only caved and made a Trolls oc because of @tea0w0stache and @0ketlyn-s Brotherhood AU. It’s so good and I love all the designs and love Bruce (Spruce is just my favorite character in the Trolls canon anyways). That love has been channeled into my oc (for the fun of it) because I have her having a crush on Bruce but she really just keeps it to herself. However, as an outcast (because she’s not that big of a fan of how the pop trolls worship JD, Bruce and Floyd like they’re a godsend) she does occasionally talk to Poppy about things because she really doesn’t know who else to talk to that just will listen. Plus, Briar really isn’t good with socializing. She tends to stick to herself and just makes things that could possibly make their hidden existence better. She would love to be more sociable, but prefers to view things from a distance. The flower skirt she wears is actually something she’s made. She’s pretty good at making outfits, but she makes other things. Especially if she’s in a really creative mood.

Don’t take what I said for the Brotherhood AU seriously since it’s not my AU and I purely made that version of her for fun. BH!Poppy and BH!Bruce do not belong to me, they belong to Dex and Ket. As far as I know the AU is still underdevelopment and whatnot. If you’re interested go check out both of their blogs and ask them about it. I’m purely an outsider just looking in and creating a bit of fun (and small bit of fanart). Go support the two of them, they’re really cool people!!!

Anyways, idk if I’ll actually do much with Briar since I just couldn’t resist making a Trolls oc any longer. With that being said hope you all enjoyed the art! If you want to see more Briar art let me know, any questions on her you are free to ask. Likes are nice, but reblogs help others see the art so if you want your mutuals and followers to see it reblog it ^w^ As always, hope you’re having a wonderful day and stay creative!

[nevesmose]

I did some stories for the 40K Secret Sanguinala and Berserk Clangmas exchanges last year! Been occupied with my usual new year depressive breakdown so I'm only just now getting around to going into more detail about them here...

So the prompt I chose for this one was Konrad Curze/Shang including the requestor's various additional likes of smut, consensual relationship, female Konrad & pegging, fixed power dynamics between dominant primarch and submissive Astartes. And I think I met the brief pretty well, tbh.

Kassandra seemed like a good choice of name for a female Konrad. I've seen it done sometimes with Constance or Konnie or various other ways but this is Warhammer, the "Iron Hand, Primarch of the Iron Hands, who has metal hands and a spaceship called the Fist of Iron" setting. Nothing is too on the nose, and honestly for me that's a big part of the charm. So it felt entirely appropriate to name female Konrad after a seer of the future that nobody believes.

But we know what her real name is, don't we? Night Haunter. It probably sounds better in Nostraman but I always enjoy emphasing how that's his true name in his own perception. Sometimes people view him as having dual personalities of the """"good"""" Konrad versus the evil Night Haunter or something, but since he's Space Batman I tend to think of it more in the same way as some portrayals of the Dark Knight where Batman is who he is internally, all the time, and "Bruce Wayne" is just the palatable disguise worn for the benefit of others when it's necessary to do so.

I wasn't vastly familiar with Shang before writing this, but catching up on his appearances I found his dynamic pretty compelling, especially how he's shown to have genuine loyalty and love for Konrad, and it's mentioned that in return Shang is the only one of his legion that Konrad doesn't hate. Not that he loves Shang back or even likes him all that much, just that he doesn't actively loathe him.

That felt kind of interesting to me because of the wider dynamic that the Night Lords all seem to have of trying in various different ways to finally, finally win the affection and approval of a dysfunctional abusive father figure who hates them and himself and the entirety of existence, and the kind of futile hopes that this time for sure everything will be OK and Konrad will recover from his devastating untreated mental health issues and he'll finally like his army of space serial killers and violent criminals.

There's pegging too. Honestly it was fun to air out some of my favourite femdom elements since it's a good proportion of my fairly sizeable collection of romance novels, but you wouldn't know it from my very yaoi-centric fic output.

This was a treat for @chemos-factories who is a wonderful person and deserves good things, based on his request for Perturabo/Clonegrim with Perturabo wanting to acquire a perfect clone of Fulgrim for reasons that he may not be able to admit to himself. The suggested bodice ripper vibes somehow turned into fairy tale vibes as we explore Perty building a palace full of Saw traps to imprison and torture Fulgrim in, and then getting Clonegrim for entirely rational research purposes that have no twisted romantic elements whatsoever...

In the end Perty does not actually get the precious Clonussy but he does perhaps come close to actually learning something about the pain of bearing grudges and hatreds for millennia. Will he listen or actually change? Nah, of course not, this is Perturabo we're talking about. That's the tragedy of his character. But the opportunity was there at least.

And I wanted to give Clonegrim what felt like a proper happy ending for him as his own person. Like sometimes people say he should go and fight for the Imperium and lead the Sons of the Phoenix or redeem the Emperor's Children or something, and I just feel like even if that were possible that isn't, or wouldn't be, his personal goal or dream. So instead he gets to be his own person, living about as freely as anyone can, and have lots of fun Rogue Trader adventures as he explores the galaxy.

Genuinely one of the darker and more messed-up things I've written! The part of the request I focused on was King of Midland/The Torturer, Alternate Universe - The Torturer Is a Slightly Deformed Twink Erotically Obsessed with the King. That sounded interestingly grotesque to me, especially with the "nasty older men" aspect also mentioned in the prompt.

For all that I'm an alexithymic faceblind autist, I like to think I have a reasonable command of the kind of writing tricks that can be used to manipulate people into feeling things about a character and so I really pulled out all the stops for this one to get people to care about Twinkturer aka Frantz.

His name is taken from the main subject of The Faithful Executioner by Joel F Harrington which is a very, very good history book based on the diary of Frantz Schmidt, the city of Nuremberg's municipal torturer and executioner in the late 1500s/early 1600s.

The element of him being one of Gennon's victims felt like an effective starting point to achieve that, and also led to a fairly reasonable explanation for how his obsession with the King could occur in the first place.

The important aspect (as well as making him reasonably pretty as requested in the prompt) was to have it from his POV since everyone is the main character of their own story and (mostly) perceives their experiences and actions in ways that support or explain themselves and their worldview.

Of course, he's also deeply fucked up so his perceptions of things are not at all reliable, and that only gets worse as the distant effects of Griffith and the Hawks start to impact his life. I deliberately didn't have him ever meet any of the main characters in person because why would he? Everywhere except in his own head, he's an utter non-entity at the very bottom of the social hierarchy who spends his time doing horrible things in a dungeon.

He really could have had something with Alek though. They could have been happy despite everything. Sadly it's irrelevant of course, because of the King being jealous and vindictive. My original idea for the character was a bizarro funhouse mirror version of Griffith who has never had anything go right for him, but he ended up being a bizarro Charlotte instead which just added an entirely new layer of disturbing nasty old man exploitation to the story.

I had a lot of fun with this one, which started out as a quick little treat and ended up being almost 10k words of alternate universe Griffguts where Berserk is a TV show and they’re just actors. It's definitely one of those stories that took on a life of its own as it went on and overall I think it turned out well. I'm feeling particularly positive about the humour and the smut scenes here which, to me anyway, felt a lot more comfortable and natural than some of my other attempts at it. Actual improvement from practicing at doing something? Big if true.

I've always really enjoyed reading books/articles and watching videos about troubled and chaotic productions of movies and TV shows. It's fascinating and entertaining in a way I just can't describe to see these vast projects being changed and warped by all kinds of external and internal factors, and the ways in which this impacts the people who actually have to make the show or movie happen.

So in the AU, Guts has recently quit being a professional wrestler to start an acting career instead. He isn't based on any particular people as I don't actually know anything much about wrestling beyond that Rhea Ripley exists but he's aiming to have a kind of John Cena or Dwayne Johnson sort of trajectory.

AU Griffith is just That British Actor, you know the one, he's been in a few different movies and shows but you might struggle to remember exactly which ones. Sort of a blend of Tom Felton, Tom Hiddleston and a very small amount of Michael Sheen, and maybe Jacob McCarthy looks-wise? In any case he likes Berserk and he will achieve his dream of being Griffith no matter what it takes.

The Coriolanus bits, especially Guts finding the videos of it, were mainly inspired by the 2014 version starring Tom Hiddleston at the peak of his Loki popularity, during which he did in fact kiss Aufidius to the delight of the audience, as well as the 2011 movie version with Ralph Fiennes and Gerard Butler which also did a good job of portraying a more gruff middle-aged version of their enemies to lovers toxic yaoi.

I included a lot of fun little details in this one just to amuse myself with the AU / show within a show concept, but as it went on I was actually pretty entertained by working out how to adapt the Golden Age events into the story's low-budget cyberpunk version. Reassembled Cyberdemon Femto was pretty cool to imagine, and since I mentioned SOMA and Virus (1999) as inspirations for the production team in-story here's some pictures for vibes purposes.

It was really nice to take part and to get so much positive feedback from readers who took the time to comment! I have an inbox full of comments to reply to but just in general I really appreciated hearing people's thoughts on the stories. Thank you all! 🥰