#not familiar enough with the wide world of dc crossovers to know if there are others but I'd be surprised if there weren't

[somestorythoughts]

The fact that Bruce Wayne has canonically adopted enough black-haired blue-eyed kids that if there's a crossover going on with a piece of media with any black-haired blue-eyed kids in it, there will be adoption jokes and/or adoptions and/or bio-kid AUs, especially if said kid is a child hero, is very funny.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Being Fake Soulmates with Dr. Chilton (Part 4)

<- Part 3 | Part 5 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader | The Good Place crossover

Warnings: Fluff, cuddling, angst

1,560 words

He held your hand loosely in his, stroking the soft of your palm with his thumb—an almost ticklish sensation that sent goosebumps rushing up your arm, making your heart skip erratically.

You sat side-by-side on a velvet loveseat whose curling arms were inlaid with patterns of baroque gold—entirely Frederick’s style, but remarkably comfortable nonetheless. One of your legs draped lazily over his, and his arm created a nest for your shoulders. It was wonderful being close to someone whose presence you were completely comfortable in. To feel his soft breathing rising and falling beside you, and the texture of his skin against yours.

The remains of your morning tea rested on the coffee table—a rustic piece of reclaimed farmhouse wood in which the raw natural materials were the focus. Your eco-aesthetic should have clashed with Frederick’s old-world aristocratic style, but somehow the combination elevated both.

Soulmates.

The more you glimpsed of the insecurity behind Dr. Frederick Chilton’s pretentious mask, the more you realized what it meant to be soulmates. It wasn’t about being the same, but different in ways that complemented each other. You kept him humble. He taught you to put yourself first. You filled his loneliness, and he brought out your confidence. But more than that, he was always there—no matter what challenges the afterlife threw at you, you came back home to each other, held each other, and everything was fine.

So long as you had your soulmate, you could face anything.

The steady stroking on your palm stuttered and paused. You lifted your head from his shoulder to see the pensive expression quietly furrowing his brow.

“If we met on earth,” he pondered softly, “do you think we would have...?” Dark notes of distress clouded his voice, as he if already knew and didn’t like the answer to the question he didn’t entirely ask.

“I don’t know.” If you hadn’t been told by an immortal, all-knowing afterlife architect that this was your soulmate, would have ever in a million years given Dr. Chilton enough of a chance to see beneath his snobby crust? You’d rather not hurt him by focusing on a probable no, so instead you said, “I only went to Baltimore once, as a kid. To go to the aquarium. I think it was a side trip from when we visited DC. Were you ever in New England?”

His jaw tensed—the only outward sign of what you expected was a fierce internal debate on whether to correct you for answering whether they would have met when his question was if. He decided to let it go.

“I spent some time there. I went to Harvard, of course, so I am familiar with the region.”

“I went to Harvard. Of course,” you repeated laughing, exaggerating the snobbish drawl of his affected accent. You swung your other leg over his lap to straddle him and peck a playful kiss to his lips.

His green eyes returned none of your mirth as he observed, “You always mock me, and then act as if it is affectionate.”

Your teasing grin fell. A hand lifted to his cheek. The other remained cozily nestled in his hand, but the fact that he didn’t melt into your touch proved how irritated he was.

“Oh, Frederick,” you cooed. “You are ridiculous sometimes”—he must know that about himself, right? The glower he returned suggested, in fact, he did not—“And I love you.”

Your last three words hung in the air and heated his face under your palm. He stared back at you unblinking, some of the hardness evaporating from his eyes at those words. It felt like hours waiting for a reaction before he swallowed thickly.

“Oh.”

He added nothing further than that oh. Though you supposed falling in love was inevitable for soulmates, it was the first time you’d said it out loud, and you itched for more.

“Well?” you nudged. “Are you… happy to hear it?”

“No.” His brow furrowed.

The blunt rejection felt less like a slap to the face and more like leaning back in a broken reclining chair and finding yourself blinking up at the ceiling from the floor. You had expected something different.

“You chose to say it now to avoid blame for insulting me; that is hardly kind. But what should I expect? You… you—” His entire face began to twitch: eyes narrowing in thought, suddenly going wide, then narrowing again. Then he looked at you almost mournfully, the softest, most tender expression clouding his eyes.

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t thinking about it like that. I just thought you were so cute—”

“No, no, no. This—this is not right. None of this is right. It is more than that.” He stood and began pacing the room. “I have been bothered by things for some time, but I chose to ignore them”—he cast a pained glance back at you—“because I wanted to believe it was true. But this makes no sense. Why would you love me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Of course I love you. We… we’re soulmates!”

He barked a dry laugh. “That is the only reason, is it not? Because we were told we were soulmates. How can we be sure we are?”

“Michael said—”

“Ah yes, Michael said. Naturally, we can trust Michael, the supernatural being we know nothing about.” His heel scuffed on the marble floor as he pivoted in his jerky movements to face you. “Think rationally. The existence of soulmates is extremely doubtful. How could every person have a perfect match? Are humans created in pairs? What happens if one’s soulmate dies in infancy? Or speaks a different language?”

“Just because they’re unlikely on Earth doesn’t mean they can’t be made for the afterlife.” You convinced yourself even less than him.

“It is not just you,” he said wistfully, eyes casting over your seated form next to the hollow impression he left on the velvet. “I do not think this is even heaven. No one likes frozen yogurt that much.”

“I like fro yo,” you muttered in a small defensive voice.

“But you like ice cream better. Why are there a dozen frozen yogurt shops and not a single ice cream parlor? It was a clue in plain sight. This place is a mockery of paradise. Every moment we have expected a reward, it has been twisted into a punishment, or a… a test!”

You stared back at him silently. Your tongue went dry, and you realized your mouth was hanging open, paused on the brink of something to say—some retort that would explain everything. But none came.

“Pairing us together,” he announced one syllable at a time, regretting his next words, “was never meant to be a reward. It was a trap.”

“But you make me happy! Not every pair makes sense at first, but I love you. We’re in paradise—”

“I would never have gotten into paradise!” The last piece of the puzzle exploded from his throat, a shouted confession. The air went still. “Perhaps you would have,” he muttered, “but I do not belong in the good place.”

At last, you stood and joined Frederick, your hands finding his again. They were warm, and big, and fit yours perfectly. You understood, then. As long as you were holding onto him, you could face anything.

Even the truth.

You shook your head. “No. I never did anything with my life. I tried. I recycled and drove a Prius, but I was too shy to call senators about environmental policy—too afraid or too lazy to lobby for infrastructure changes. I never did anything significant to fight for what I believed in. If the good place only takes the best of the best… I never came close.”

Frederick squeezed your hand. “I thought—” his breath hitched “—I thought I did. I believed everything had been worth it in the end. I finally achieved something; my work earned the recognition it deserved. Of course it didn’t! At least I am sharp enough to see through their farce.”

“But… but you’re my soulmate.” You clung to him like the wreckage of a sinking ship.

Frederick was silent, but you could hear his words in your head: There is no such thing.

“But you make me happy,” you argued.

But he also drove you crazy. But anyone reading the transcript of your lives would have expected you to make each other miserable. If you hadn’t walked in on him by chance while he was sulking and taken pity, you really would have tortured each other.

“Holy fork,” you muttered. “Is this the bad place?”

“That is the most likely possibility,” Frederick whispered.

Fear crept up your spine. If everything was a lie, then what else couldn’t you trust? Who else knew? Who was in charge? Could you even trust Frederick? You took half a step back from his grip and watched him return your glare with equal suspicion.

He wasn’t your soulmate. He was just a man you barely knew anything about.

You lurched forward and re-entered the radius of his spicy cologne, comforted by the familiar scent and the familiar texture of his tweed suit under your fingertips. “Wh-what do we do?”

“I do not know.”

His arms closed around your back, and he held you.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags:

@beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31​ / @isvvc-pvscvl  / @shroomiehomie / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemxdhouse​ / @feedthemadness-sweetie​ / @law-nerd105​ / @amelia-song-pond​ / @michael-rooker​ / @xecq / @madpanda75​ / @alwaysachorusgirl​ / @bananas-pajamas​ / @leanor-min​ / @mad-girl-without-a-box​ 

[afni-fics]

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 15: Not of This World (Part 2)

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 15: Not of This World (Part 2) by C_R_Scott Chapters: 15/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Skyrim/DCU crossover, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Not Beta Read, Alternate Universe - Skyrim Fusion, Modded Skyrim, Skyrim Spoilers, Tim Drake is Dragonborn | Dovahkiin, Batfamily-centric (DCU), Tim Drake-centric

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary:

More information is revealed between Tim and Lucien as they rest for the night after escaping Bleak Falls Barrow.

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

Tim had been feeling uneasy since he asked Lucien if he had a copy of a world map. While listening to the scholar's story and history, he became curious about this land called Cyrodiil. From what he could gather, it was somewhere beyond Skyrim, but the further Lucien went into his stories, the more frustrated he became.

Having no frame of reference for any of the locations was bothering him.

Knowing so little in general about this world he was trapped in made him feel extremely uneasy.

So... He asked, "Do you have a map of the world?"

The map Lucien spread out across that stone floor was a functional work of art. As Tim studied the map of Tamriel, a part of him was awed that someone had created such a beautiful detailed thing by hand with just pen and ink on parchment. He felt similarly about the parchment map of Skyrim he had sitting folded neatly in his own bag.

It was beautiful.

But it wasn't a map of any country on Earth. 

A part of Tim had been harboring a small hope that perhaps he was dealing with some sort of Multiverse-shenanigans. Perhaps he was on an alternate Earth where sword and sorcery were king instead of science and technology? Or maybe there was time travel high jinks in play? This world was clearly set on some sort of medieval timeline. Magic and dragons loomed large in old legends in Europe, so perhaps there was a kernel of truth to the fairy tales?

But as Tim studied the map, trying to find any familiar shape among the coastlines, lakes, and mountain ranges, he felt his heart sink.

His face must have been reflecting the encroaching despair that had been chasing him ever since Helgen as Lucien's voice disturbed the silence. "Does nothing on that map look familiar to you?" Then, a bit later, Lucien asked "Then... Where on Nirn do you come from, if not from Tamriel?"

In that moment, Tim decided to take a chance. He looked at Lucien and asked, genuinely, "Nirn? Is that another continent, or is that the name of the entire world?"

As Lucien stared at him in disbelieve, jaw working to form a response but no words escaping him, Tim felt a wave of regret wash over him. He chuckled humorlessly and shook his head. "Shit. Shouldn't have opened my big mouth. You probably think I'm crazy or stupid."

Finally Lucien found his voice. "No. Of course not!"

Tim gave him a deadpan, "don't try and bullshit me" stare.

Lucien sighed. "Well... Perhaps a touch of madness is on the table as a possibility, but certainly not stupidity! The expression of your intelligence in the Barrows was quite indisputable." The scholar took a measured breath and tee-peed his fingers in front of his face, tapping his lips with the apex of his joined fingertips. "Honestly, I was leaning more heavily towards some type of memory loss triggered by the trauma you experienced at Helgen." He looked at Tim over his fingertips.

Tim smiled wearily. "That might make a nice plausible cover-story later on, if anyone asks about my past," he mused. 

"But that's not it..."

"No. That's not it." Tim looked over Lucien appraisingly, trying to mentally gauge how much he should and shouldn't tell the scholar. Then he got an idea. He pulled out his own journal as well as a quill and a bottle of ink. Then he set to work carefully sketching the basic forms of all the known continents of his Earth from memory. Once the shapes of the large land masses were set, he added more details, such as borders between major countries and the locations of major cities along with their names. Lucien watched him work with great curiosity. 

Once he was done, Tim took a steadying breath before he offered Lucien the drawing. "This is a map of the continents of the place I come from," he admitted solemnly. Tim pointed to the dot on the North American continent he had labeled "Gotham City". "And this city is my home." He looked to Lucien. "In your studies, have you ever seen any land masses or maps that are similar to any of these places?"

Carefully, Lucien took the journal and held it a little closer to the light from the campfire. As he studied the rough drawing, his brow furrowed and absent-mindedly he stroked his mustache and goatee as his expression became more thoughtful and inward. After a few quiet moments, the scholar shook his head slight. "I'm sorry. I have studied a fair number of historic maps over the years, but I've never seen any that resemble the land masses displayed here." Lucien set the open journal down next to his own map of Tamriel, so he could look at both at the same time, arms crossed across his chest as he still let his eyes wander from one map to the other.

The silence between the two of them was agonizing to Tim. He could feel a coil of anxiety tightening in his chest, though he tried to keep it suppressed and his expression neutral. "What are you thinking Lucien?" He finally worked up the nerve to ask.

Lucien closed his eyes. "I... don't know yet," he admitted. "I don't have enough information." He finally looked up at Tim. "If you are comfortable with it, can I ask you a few questions?"

Tim nodded, even as he drew his cloak a little closer around himself, as if he was cold even despite the roaring fire in front of him, looking more guarded than forthcoming.

Lucien pulled out his own journal and flipped to a clean page. Then he began to voice a few questions, keeping them with a simple yes/no format. 

"I'm going to give you a list of names. Let me know if any of them are familiar to you. Yes or no answers will suffice."

Tim nodded. 

"Azura?" 

"No."

"Boethia?" 

"No."

"Clavicus Vile?" '

Tim tilted his head. "I know the word 'vile".

Lucien paused in his notes. "But as the name of a being?" 

Tim shook his head.

"Hm... " Lucien murmured thoughtfully. He went down the rest of the list of Tamriel's known Daedric Princes.

Hermaeus Mora. 

Hircine. 

Malacath.

Mehrunes Dagon. 

Mephala.

Meridia. 

Molag Bal. 

Namira. 

Nocturnal. 

Peryite. 

Sanguine. 

Sheogorath. 

Varemina.

To each name, aside from recognizing "nocturnal" and "sanguine" as common words, but not necessarily proper nouns, Tim responded in the negative. He clearly had no knowledge of the Daedra Lords of Oblivion. 

Lucien then moved on. He offered Tim another list of names. It was going to be shorter this time, just the list of the Eight Divines.

"Let's start off with Akatosh--"

"Akatosh..." Tim echoed as memory shards darted through his mind. 

                  ... an ancient temple?                                           ... "A-ka-tosh?"                                                             ..."Dude?! You can read that?"                                                ... "Detective?! What are you--"                                 "DOVAHKIIN!!!"...                                             ... "MEYZ NU YSMIR, DOVAHSEBROM!...                                                                                  ..."ROB!"...                                                                            ... "TIM!!!"                                                                                     ... FALLING!!!..

"Timothy?! Timothy can you hear me?!"

Tim felt hands on his shoulders, shaking him... Until he realized he was the one trembling, and Lucien's hands were trying to hold him steady. Lucien's eyes were wide with concern.

"Lucien?" 

The scholar breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. You went catatonic the moment I mentioned Akatosh. Are you alright?"

Tim buried his face in his hands. The shaking was settling, but not completely gone. "I... don't know," he admitted. "That name... it's familiar, but my memories." He groaned as he felt the spike of a migraine building behind his eyes the harder he tried to remember. "I can't sort them out. Like they've been ripped to pieces. Hurts..."

Lucien pressed a hand to Tim's forehead and noticed he seemed to be far warmer than normal. He frowned. "Here now. I think that's enough for tonight. You are still injured and you need to rest." He helped to lay out Tim's bedroll, despite the weak protests from the younger man. "We'll start off in the morning to Whiterun and as soon as we finish dropping off that Dragonstone with the Jarl's wizard, you're going straight to the temple for proper healing. I think your luck's run out regarding that burn not becoming infected."

Tim tried to protest, but he felt so physically, mentally, and emotionally wrung out. Gingerly, he laid himself down and drew his cloak around himself to stay warm. "Lucien?" 

"Yes?" Lucien had taken a length of linen wrap from Tim's bag and soaked it with water from the rain still falling outside their shelter. He knelt beside Tim and placed the cool compress on his forehead.

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

The scholar gave him a reassuring smile. "I think... I don't believe you're crazy, but I do think you have experienced something that neither of us can quite explain. Don't worry... Once we've completed your task and once you are healed, I will help you find your truth."

That seemed to reassure Tim enough that he finally relaxed to a point where he could let exhaustion drag him under into unconsciousness.

***

Once Lucien was assured that Timothy was fast asleep, he went back to the maps on the ground, and also to both their journals. After a quick glance to make sure his companion was still resting, Lucien picked up Tim's journal and flipped back to the start of the book and read over the few earlier entries that existed. His brow furrowed at some of the contents he read.

"January 23, 20XX... 24 hour days? Is he's on a different measure of time?"

"Gotham... That's name of his home city, but where is that from? His map of his world is so strange? Could it be a land from a plane of Oblivion? But which one, and how? Could it be there's an active Oblivion Gate somewhere in Skyrim? Terrifying thought...."

"Also... Is it possible he is from Nirn, but crossed paths with a Daedric Lord and just didn't realize it? Sheogorath's touch perhaps? But those who are touched by the mad god are usually completely manic or violently insane. Timothy, by comparison, seems quite in control of his mental faculties, if a bit confused at most."

"Medieval? What does that word mean?"

"Oy... no wonder he bristled at the mention of the Imperial Legion... Better be careful when we make our way back to Solitude. He might react poorly if we're approached by anyone that looks like a soldier."

"Clearly no understanding of potions or magic. Maybe they don't exist where he comes from? Hm... Seems the same way regarding Septims as well. Likely different monetary units in his homeland."

After reading the only four entries in the book, Lucien felt marginally guilty about reading Tim's private thoughts, but now he had a little bit more information about his travelling companion.

Too bad he ended up with more questions than answers.

"Who is this young man, and where is his homeland located?"

"How did he get to Skyrim, and for what reason was he brought?"

"Why did he react so unusually to the mention of Akatosh?"

"Is it possible a Divine or a Daedric Lord is involved somehow?"

"How can we get him home?"

Timothy Drake-Wayne was certainly an intriguing puzzle he really, really wanted to solve.

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

Warning: This is being pantsed more than plotted, and this is not beta read. We'll see where this journey takes us. Mostly I'm just doing this for my own amusement.

Note1: If you have any questions about the playthrough and Tim's feelings/experiences that aren't described in the chapters, please ask me in the comments. I'll do my best to answer your questions as best I can.

Note2: Dragon Tongue Translations: - DOVAHKIIN - Dragonborn - MEYZ NU YSMIR, DOVAHSEBROM - Come now Ysmir, Dragon of the North ***** So ends the evening of rest before making their way back to Whiterun.

#elder scrolls dc#fanfiction#tim drake#skyrim fanfiction#batfam fanfic#red robin#batfam#crossover#lucien flavius#wip#afewnovelideas

[lady-hammerlock]

Through the Looking Glass - Chapter Ten (Telltale Batjokes & DC Comics Crossover)

AN: Sorry this one's taken so long guys. Between work and my mental health not being the best at the moment I've been pretty exhausted, but its finally done! We've only got one chapter left now. I hope you're all still enjoying Through the Looking Glass. :D

Just a head’s up as well that I’ve changed my username on AO3 to LadyHammerlock as well, in case you’re having trouble finding me.

--

CHAPTER TEN

It had been over twenty-four hours. No matter how Bruce looked at it, the Looking Glass should have been activated by now.

It hadn’t though. John Doe was still stuck in Wayne Manor, and was growing more and more restless by the minute.

“What if something’s happened to Bruce and the other me?” John asked. “What if… what if the Looking Glass is broken?”

Bruce didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to tell John the truth: that he had been anticipating this, dreading it, knowing deep inside of him that the Joker would find some way to complicate or ruin this like he managed to ruin everything else. He only hoped that the casualties in John’s world weren’t too high, and that whatever happened, they would still find a way to get John and the Joker switched over once more.

He hated this though; hated having to sit on his hands and not be able to do anything except cross his fingers and wait. All they needed was for the Joker to behave himself and follow instructions, just this one time, as impossible as that might seem.

He didn’t like the idea of leaving John alone; if only because he could switch places with the Joker at any moment, but as the hours wore on and there was no sign of anything changing at any time soon, Bruce grew more and more impatient, and less and less content with just sitting around and doing nothing, especially with the desperate, heartbroken, and yes, sometimes angry looks, that John kept sending in his direction.

Eventually Bruce’s restlessness (and John’s, for that matter) got the better of him.

“I’m going to contact Martian Manhunter and the League,” he told Dick and Jason.

Luckily Bruce’s two protégés had decided to stick around, at least until the situation with John Doe and the Joker was resolved. Bruce had rarely felt so grateful for their presence; not only because they were on hand to help in case of any emergencies that might crop up, but because they were able to distract John at least a little, and give Bruce a break from the other man’s desperate stares and the questions he kept asking that Bruce didn’t know how to answer.

“What?” Dick asked, his brows furrowing in a way that Bruce knew meant Dick was about to disagree with him.

“J’onn might know why the Looking Glass hasn’t activated yet,” he explained, prompting both Dick and Jason to start glaring at him.

“You know why it hasn’t activated yet,” Jason said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I’ll give you a hint; starts with a ��J’ and makes our lives a living hell any chance he gets.”

“I just hope he hasn’t done anything too bad in the other world,” Dick said, pursing his lips and leaning back against the kitchen table.

“We can’t just sit here and wait!” Bruce snapped, his tone angrier than he had meant for it to be. Dick and Jason weren’t responsible for any of this after all.

“So you’re going to leave John with us again?” Dick asked. “What happens if they switch back while you’re gone?”

John was looking between the three of them, looking anything but happy with the situation, but that didn’t tell Bruce much. John had been alternating between pouting, scowling and fidgeting restlessly for the past few hours, and nothing had really changed.

“I’m sure the two of you are more than capable of taking care of the Joker if that should happen,” Bruce said, trying to ignore the surge of worry that gripped him at the thought of Dick and Jason having to fight the Joker on their own. He tried to tell himself that even though the Joker had been able to beat the two of them in the past, it had only been with careful planning and preparation. Dick and Jason would be more than capable of taking the criminal out on their own. They would have to be.

“He’ll be disoriented,” Bruce added, as much for his own comfort as Dick and Jason’s. “That will be your chance to take him down.”

Dick and Jason didn’t look any more comforted by Bruce’s words than Bruce himself had been.

“Contact me if the switch happens while I’m gone,” he continued, “and I’ll return as quickly as I can.”

None of them seemed particularly happy about their current situation. All four of them were restless, and Alfred had refused to show his face at all for most of the day.

Bruce could only hope that things went back to normal as soon as possible.

--

John hated waiting. It wasn’t that he couldn’t be patient when he needed to be, but that didn’t mean he had to like it, especially not when his Bruce’s life might be on the line. There was nothing that he could do though. He was stuck here; stuck in this stupid world where everything sucked and where he couldn’t do anything to help; stuck inside Wayne Manor and unable to leave, which wouldn’t have been a problem if it had been his Wayne Manor, but it wasn’t.

Alfred hated him, the Bruce of this world wanted as little to do with him as possible, and even Dick and Jason didn’t want to be left alone with him now. John knew that was less because of him and more because of how terrible the other Joker was, but that didn’t stop it from hurting; not entirely at any rate.

He just wanted to go home. He wanted to see his Bruce; to hug Bruce as tight as he could and bury his face in Bruce’s shoulder and never, ever let go again.

He couldn’t have that though. Not now. Maybe not ever. The other Joker could have killed Bruce and destroyed the Looking Glass and none of them would ever know.

John could be stuck in this world forever.

“Hey, don’t worry buddy,” Dick said, clamping a hand down companionably on John’s shoulder. “You get to hang out with the two of us again. I promise that this time I’ll even make sure that Jason here doesn’t make fun of you too much.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Jason sniggered.

Dick snapped at him, subtly, as though John wasn’t supposed to notice it, but he did. Dick really did seem like a nice guy, and he had done everything that John supposed that he could to make sure that John felt as welcome as possible while in this world, but it didn’t matter. Dick wasn’t Bruce, and this wasn’t home, and everything was just so strange and wrong here, and John just wanted to be back home in Bruce’s arms so badly that it almost hurt.

“What do you say?” Dick said. “Oh hey! Why don’t we watch a movie together? I’m kind of curious to know whether the movies in your world are the same as ours.”

“Thanks but no thanks guys,” John said, gently pushing Dick’s hand off his shoulder. “I think I just need some time to myself.”

“Oh um… I guess that’s okay too,” Dick said.

John had already started to walk off.

“Hey, where are you going?” Dick asked.

“I’ll be in the Batcave,” John said. “It’s… well… it’s familiar, you know?”

“I’m sorry John,” Dick said gently, reaching out to grab John by the shoulder once more. “But we can’t let you go down there by yourself. What if the swap happened while you were in the Batcave without us?”

John wanted to frown at Dick. He wanted to scowl and shout at him. Couldn’t Dick see how much just sitting in the Manor and doing nothing was eating away at John?

He suppressed the instinct to snap though. He knew that stress of his current situation (not to mention the fact that he hadn’t taken his meds in days now) was starting to get to him. Dick had been pretty nice so far. He shouldn’t take it out on him.

“Please?” he tried instead, forcing himself to smile at Dick. “Just for a few minutes, you know? You can come down and check on me if you need to, but I just… I just need…”

He just needed a few minutes in the Batcave by himself. That was all. Just a few minutes and then everything would be just that little bit easier to bear.

Dick didn’t look entirely convinced, but eventually he sighed and dropped his head.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “But just a few minutes all right?”

John made sure that his grin wasn’t too wide as he pounced on Dick and gave him a quick, tight hug.

“Thanks buddy!” he said, as he pulled away. “You’re the best.”

He heard Jason muttering something to Dick as he left the room; something that sounded far from happy, but as long as Jason wasn’t unhappy enough to stop John from going downstairs to the Batcave, then John didn’t care.

Besides, he had a feeling that Jason was never happy anyway, so what difference did it make if John and Dick were the ones to make him unhappy this time?

--

When the Joker and Commissioner Gordon had tumbled off the GCPD rooftop, Bruce had been terrified. How had the Joker managed to disappear? He might have worried that the Joker had activated the Looking Glass mid-fall, but there was no sign of John.

He managed to concoct about half a dozen scenarios, each one more fantastical and worrying than the last, but soon discovered the truth only minutes later in the form of an open window on the top floor of the GCPD building, right below where the Joker had jumped with Gordon.

The criminal had made a swift getaway after that. There were dozens of witnesses in the GCPD building who were able to tell Batman how the Joker had escaped with his gun still pressed to the Commissioner’s head. No-one had been willing to risk the Commissioner’s life, and so the Joker had managed to get away.

The Joker clearly had been far less worried about discretion than Bruce might have anticipated. Trying to explain all of this once John made it back home (and he was going to make it back home, no matter what the darker corners of Bruce’s psyche were trying to whisper to him) was going to be an absolute nightmare.

With so many witnesses Bruce had hoped that the Joker might have given away at least some hint as to where he was going to take the Commissioner, and what he was planning on doing with him, but the Joker had given nothing away at all, just yelled some vaguely nonsensical threats about blowing Gordon’s brains out if any of the police tried anything, and a few comments about Batman that made it very clear that he was expecting Bruce to track him down and try to stop him.

When it became clear that the scene at the GCPD would not offer him any clues, Bruce returned to the Batcave.

He was furious; with the Joker, and with himself, for allowing the Joker to do what he had done. He should have been more cautious. He should have been quicker. He should have…

God, he was exhausted. The fact that the Joker now held not only the Commissioner but the Looking Glass as well (and with it, Bruce’s only hope of getting John back) as bargaining chips certainly wasn’t helping things. He felt as though the entire situation was out of his control. It was a feeling that he hadn’t felt for a long time, and one that he absolutely hated.

For all he knew, Commissioner Gordon could already be dead and the Looking Glass destroyed, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

No. He couldn’t think like that.

There had to be something that he could do. The Joker expected Batman to find him. He hadn’t left any messages or any clues, so there had to be something else.

The Looking Glass. The radiation signal that it gave off had been unique.

Bruce’s tech could pick up radiation spikes. It wouldn’t be easy, especially not without a tech whizz like Lucius Fox to help him, but he should be able to adjust the scanners to look for a specific energy signature.

It took hours of work, and a couple of failed starts, but eventually he was able to narrow the scan down far enough that he was able to pinpoint the Joker’s location; or at least, the location of the Looking Glass.

When he saw the location the Joker had picked, he felt as though his heart had lodged in his throat.

--

“We’re sorry Bruce,” Dick said almost as soon as Bruce had returned to the Manor.

Bruce’s heart immediately lurched. He looked to Jason, who was nervously scratching at the back of his head and refusing to meet Bruce’s eyes. What the hell could Dick and Jason be sorry for? Bruce had left them with John and John was nowhere to be seen…

Surely Jason hadn’t...? He couldn’t have. Bruce was sure that Dick would have stopped any attempt Jason might make to actually hurt John. It had to be something else.

“Where’s John Doe?” Bruce asked. He had meant to ask something else; perhaps something a little more general and a little less telling as to where his suspicions and worries had immediately turned.

“That’s just it,” Dick replied. Jason was still silent. “We don’t actually know.”

“You lost him?” Bruce growled.

“We lost him,” Dick admitted. “He said that he wanted to be alone for a while, and considering everything he’s been through we thought that surely a few minutes to himself was the least that we could do but er…”

“You thought that!” Jason snapped. “Bruce, I just want it to go on record that I was against this from the start.”

“It never occurred to you that John might switch places with the Joker while out of your sight?” Bruce snapped. “Leaving the Joker to roam around the Manor completely unsupervised!”

Bruce knew that it wouldn’t be fair to take his anger out on Dick and Jason, never mind the fact that this was almost entirely their fault. He took a deep breath. What he needed to do was think. John probably couldn’t get far on foot. They just needed to find him and bring him back before anything could happen.

“Oh, he took one of your cars by the way,” Jason said. “The red Lamborghini.”

Bruce cursed beneath his breath.

--

Ace Chemicals. The Joker had retreated to Ace Chemicals.

Bruce was sure that somewhere, someone was laughing at him, and it wasn’t just the Joker.

Bruce had jumped back into the Batmobile and had driven to the old factory, although not perhaps, with the same sense of urgency with which he had returned to the Batcave.

Bruce parked the Batmobile out front and soon found a way inside. The place was eerily quiet. Nothing but the creaking of old architecture and a few strange bubbling and dripping noises coming from inside the plant to disturb the silence.

It looked the same as it had the last time Bruce had been in here. There was still the same eerie green glow; still the same acrid stench of something that had been left in one of the vats for far too long.

God, Bruce was so amazingly glad that they had managed to move past that horrible evening. It was, perhaps, a miracle that they had.

He kept as alert as he possibly could, keeping an ear out for any sounds that might give away the Joker’s position. He thought he heard a burst of laughter, but if it was the Joker’s laughter that he had heard, then it had come from far away, and had echoed through the abandoned factory to make its way to his ears. He felt like the Joker was watching him; probably perched somewhere up high and laughing as Bruce stumbled his way around the factory’s lower levels.

He found Gordon before he found the Joker. The Commissioner had been handcuffed to a pipe near the entrance to the Ace Chemicals factory floor and apparently abandoned. The Joker had used Gordon’s own handcuffs against him from the look of things.

Gordon was muttering and cursing beneath his breath as Batman approached, apparently trying to break out of the cuffs with no luck.

“Damn it,” he cursed as Batman approached. “Sorry Batman. That bastard got the better of me.”

Bruce quickly scanned Gordon as he approached, looking out for tripwires or anything that might injure either of them should he approach Commissioner Gordon too carelessly. The whole thing; the fact that Gordon had been left here and the Joker was nowhere in sight, screamed ‘trap’ to Batman, but there was nothing that he could make out.

“Are you injured?” he asked, already looking Gordon over for any evidence that the Joker had hurt him. There were a few bruises and scrapes, and the Commissioner’s arm looked to have been dislocated, but Bruce couldn’t see anything life-threatening.

“I’ll survive,” Gordon growled as Batman worked on removing the cuffs. “You need to be careful though, you hear me? That nutjob dragged me all the way here just to get to you. No other reason he’d take a hostage and then just leave me here. He wanted you to find me.”

Bruce had been thinking the same thing.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I know what I’m up against.”

He didn’t. Not really, and the truth was he was trying to convince himself of that as much as Commissioner Gordon.

“He’s not going to take me by surprise again.”

“I damn well hope so,” Gordon said. “I’ve only known this bastard for a matter of hours and I can already tell you that I never want to see him again.”

--

In the end John’s thievery proved to be a good thing. The Lamborghini he had taken had a tracker attached to it in case of thievery, like all of Bruce’s more expensive cars. Whatever John’s intentions might have been, Bruce didn’t think that they were nefarious, and the fact that John hadn’t thought to disable the tracker before stealing the car probably meant that whatever he was up to, it wasn’t anything too bad.

A scan for the car revealed that it had come to a stop just outside of Arkham Asylum.

Bruce cursed beneath his breath. He should have known that John would be drawn back there. He was more worried for John Doe at this stage rather than worried about anything the other man might do. After all, he wasn’t sure why John had chosen to return to the asylum, but he knew the sort of monsters that awaited him inside; monsters that John would have absolutely no idea how to deal with.

“Looks like he’s grabbed some gear too,” Jason called out. He had been wandering around the Batcave, taking stock of everything while Bruce tracked the car and Dick hovered nearby. “One of your grappling guns and a few batarangs are definitely missing.”

Bruce remembered then how distressed John had been by the conditions at Arkham Asylum. The car alone might have meant that John was simply planning to get some help or medication, or possibly investigate something, but the missing equipment almost definitely meant that he had something else in mind.

“Don’t know how you lay out all of your fancy tech shit well enough these days to tell if he’s taken anything else,” Jason offered as he approached Dick and Bruce by the Batcomputer.

The tech that they already knew he had taken was worrying enough to Bruce.

He stood up from the Batcomputer and moved over to pick up the Batsuit’s cowl and gauntlets. He had only taken them off a few minutes ago. Hell, he was still wearing most of the Batsuit after his completely fruitless visit to the Justice League.

“You’re going after him?” Jason asked.

Bruce didn’t even dignify that with an answer. Of course he was going after John. He couldn’t not go after John. Not when he knew the other man was planning something that potentially involved Arkham Asylum.

“You want us to suit up and go with you?” Dick asked.

Bruce glanced over his two protégés. Jason was already practically ready to go, but Dick didn’t appear to have any of his equipment on hand. He couldn’t wait for the younger man to traipse back to Bludhaven and, if he was being completely honest with himself, he wasn’t in a particularly good mood with either of them.

“No,” he said. “The situation is delicate enough as it is.”

He told himself that it was the truth; that he couldn’t risk either Dick or Jason destabilizing the situation with John Doe any more than they already had, and that Bruce wasn’t letting his temper get the better of him.

“I need the two of you to stay here in case John comes back,” Bruce said. “Contact me as soon as you hear anything, about him or about the Joker.”

He could only hope that the switch happened while John was at Arkham, and not before.

--

In a matter of minutes Bruce was speeding towards Arkham Asylum in the Batmobile, going as fast as he possibly could, and hoping that he wouldn’t be too late.

He patched himself into Arkham’s private security feed as he drove, hoping that there would nothing out of the ordinary, and that when he arrived at Arkham he would discover that John was either still sitting in Bruce’s car, or had taken himself to talk to one of the doctors, but as soon as the security feed crackled into life he knew that he had been hoping in vain.

“… Sharp hostage. I repeat; the offender has taken Warden Sharp hostage.”

“What the fuck?” another voice crackled into life over the radio. “Is this the Joker or not? Nobody can fucking tell me…”

“Ivy and Quinn have retreated to the northern gardens, but are still believed to be armed and dangerous. I repeat… Ivy and Quinn are still on the grounds.”

Bruce cursed beneath his breath and wished that he could be travelling even faster than he already was. This was worse than he had anticipated. John had taken the warden of Arkham Asylum hostage, and whatever he was doing, he had managed to get Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn on side.

If it wasn’t for the two women helping John, Bruce might have even been afraid that the two Jokers had switched back. This, whatever John was planning, seemed to be at a much larger and chaotic scale than Bruce would have thought John capable of. Harley and Ivy would never help the original Joker though; no matter what his plan might be.

Bruce could only hope that whatever John and the two women were planning, Bruce would be able to get to Arkham Asylum before things grew too grim, and that the staff at Arkham would be able to hold out until he got there.

--

Bruce felt his heart pounding as he opened the doors to the Ace Chemicals factory floor and stepped into the large, shadowy room. The last time he had been here he had almost lost a friend, almost lost himself as well. There was a bitter tang to the whole place; rust and whatever chemicals had been left in the vats, and what Bruce would have almost sworn was blood.

If Bruce searched there wouldn’t be any blood here though. The Agency had insured that any evidence of John Doe and their presence in the Ace Chemicals building had been cleaned up as quickly as possible; fingerprints, footprints and all traces of gunpowder polished away, and every tiny spot of blood scrubbed from the catwalks and the cemented floor below.

Of course it was possible that the Joker had spilled new blood, but Bruce knew that it was not the case. Being back here was playing tricks on his mind. He knew that, and not for the first time, he found himself wondering why the Joker would choose this place above all others.

He thought he saw a shadow dart across the wall in front of him, but when he turned there was nothing there. Had the Joker always been this fast? Was John? Bruce knew that his partner could move quickly when he wanted to, but he was hard pressed to imagine him darting between shadows as successfully as the Joker was currently doing.

He told himself he was just imagining things; that the shadows and the traumatic memories he carried of this place were playing tricks on him again.

“This way Bats…” a voice said from up above.

Bruce glanced up, but didn’t see any sign of the Joker, or of anyone else. He just found himself looking at the same catwalk on which he had faced John Doe, the man that he had loved; even in those terrifyingly violent moments, covered in blood and having just brutally murdered three agents.

“Why here?” Bruce muttered beneath his breath as he grappled up to the catwalk.

The Joker finally appeared then, strolling down the other end of the catwalk towards Bruce with a wide grin on his face. Bruce glanced over him, and sure enough, he spotted the Looking Glass, tucked beneath the Joker’s jacket and attached to his belt. At least the Joker still had it. Bruce still had a chance of getting John back.

“Well here we are,” the Joker said, spreading his arms wide as though welcoming Bruce to the factory. “The old stomping grounds.”

Bruce forced himself to put one foot in front of the other. It was harder than he would have liked. This place had the same disastrous effect on him these days as Crime Alley did. His heart pounded too heavily, and too quickly, as though at any moment he was going to be plunged back into the awful memories that both places summoned.

He tried to think back to everything he had told the Joker about his time with John. Surely he hadn’t mentioned Ace Chemicals though. He hadn’t even talked to Alfred or Avesta about what had happened here. It just hurt too much to remember what had happened. He hadn’t even really talked about it with John.

The Joker couldn’t possibly have found out what this place meant to Bruce and John, which meant that it meant something to the Joker and his version of Batman too, but what?

“Ah, such fond memories,” the Joker said as he practically waltzed up to Batman.

“Give me the Looking Glass,” Batman demanded.

“No hello? You’re not even going to ask what memories I’m talking about?” the Joker asked, twisting away from Batman and out of reach of the hands that had tried to grasp at his jacket. “Oh Bats, you disappoint me. Aren’t you the least bit curious? No? Well, frankly I find your behavior today to be quite rude.”

Batman made a grab for the Looking Glass, but the Joker twisted out of the way again.

The criminal tutted and shook his finger at Bruce as though he was dealing with an unruly child.

“Honestly Bats,” he said. “You absolutely have to learn how to observe the niceties more than you do. Surely even you know that at least an introduction is required before you go around trying to grab people.”

He unhooked the Looking Glass from his belt and held it up in front of him, obviously taunting Bruce with it.

“Why, it would serve you right if I was to simply toss this over the edge and let it fall into a pit of acid…”

The Joker moved as though he was about to throw the Looking Glass over his shoulder and into the vat below him.

“No!” Batman screamed, charging at the other man and pinning him to the railing of the catwalk.

“Easy now Bats,” the Joker said, cackling madly as he did. “Not that I mind, but you could have knocked it right out of my hand, surprising me like that.”

He leaned in close, so that his lips hovered barely inches away from Bruce’s own, and when he next spoke there was a menace in his voice that hadn’t been there before; a menace that Bruce had only heard a handful of times during the Joker’s stay.

“And wouldn’t that just be so perfectly, deliciously ironic,” he hissed. “You, watching your only chance to bring back your beloved John Doe go tumbling down into that vat down there. Oh, I almost wish it had happened.”

Bruce was already on edge. The Joker’s taunting certainly wasn’t helping. He found his hands clenching into fists, and he knew it was only the threat of the Looking Glass’s destruction that was stopping him from charging straight at the Joker and beating him into submission.

“Who knows?” the Joker cackled. “It might even be for the best. Don’t you think so Batsy? Why, the two of us could continue this lovely dance! And I’m sure you’ll agree that I’m so much more interesting than poor, sweet innocent John.”

The Joker threw his arm and the hand that was holding the Looking Glass over edge of the catwalk, the action so haphazard that Bruce wouldn’t have been surprised if the Joker dropped the Looking Glass accidentally.

“Don’t!” Bruce said, lunging for the Looking Glass only for the Joker to snatch it back away from the edge and start giggling maniacally.

“Why would you do that!?” Batman screamed. “That’s your only way home.”

“Some people just want to watch the world burn Batsy,” the Joker replied offhand. “I thought you would have understood that much about me by now.”

No. Bruce refused to believe it. There was a point to all of this, even if Bruce couldn’t see what it was. Even if the Joker refused to admit it.

He couldn’t think straight though; not while the Joker was tossing his only chance of getting John back up into the air as though it was nothing more than a plaything; not while his heart was thumping so hard in his chest.

He charged towards the Joker, who pulled a blade from somewhere within his jacket. Bruce managed to dodge the first swipe of the blade, but not the second, which caught him on the torso and managed to slice through the tough material just enough to leave a gash on the side of his stomach.

The Joker was still holding the Looking Glass, which meant that he could only use one hand. It put him at a disadvantage, but it also meant that Bruce had to be careful when attacking the Joker. One wrong move could see the Looking Glass flying off the catwalk and into the vats down below.

Bruce tried to focus on getting rid of the Joker’s knife. Eventually it fell, clattering onto the catwalk, and Bruce was able to kick it off and over the side. The Joker watched the knife fall away for only a moment, before darting away from Batman and dashing towards the other end of the catwalk.

“Joker!” Batman screamed, before running after him.

When Bruce caught up to the Joker he had placed the Looking Glass down on the ground directly behind him, and was standing in front of it, defending it as a mother animal would her child.

“Come on Batsy,” the Joker said. “Come and get it.”

Bruce’s blood was boiling. He didn’t even bother trying to make a grab for the Looking Glass. He knew that the Joker wouldn’t allow it, and besides, there was something inside of him that wanted the chance to fight the Joker; wanted to pummel him into the ground and make him pay for everything that he had put Bruce and now Gordon through over the past few days.

Bruce charged. The Joker dodged his first attack, as though he had known exactly what sort of move to expect from Bruce, and then the second, and then managed to land a couple of quick punches to Bruce’s torso. There was a surprising amount of force behind the blows, considering the Joker’s size, and it occurred to Bruce in that moment that he was dealing with an opponent who had a significant advantage over him.

The Joker was used to this dance. He knew exactly what was going to happen; knew the sort of moves Bruce would make before he had even made them.

He was grinning too, and there was more than just cruelty behind that smile this time. The Joker was actually enjoying this. His eyes never left Bruce as they fought, staring up at him with so much attention that Bruce felt a little uncomfortable.

Bruce stumbled, and his next blow didn’t connect, but the punch after did, slamming into the Joker’s face so hard that his nose immediately began bleeding.

The Joker took a moment to wipe his hand against his bloodied nose, but didn’t stop grinning.

“Oh, this is too easy,” he said, smiling at Batman as he dodged the next couple of Bruce’s swings. “Do you know how many people I would have had to kill to get this sort of focused attention from you back home?”

Bruce ignored the other man’s words, and felt a disturbingly strong pang of satisfaction as his next blow landed. He saw, rather than heard, the Joker’s breath catch as he successfully landed another blow, and then another.

--

By the time Batman arrived at Arkham Asylum, the guards had managed to isolate the wing in which John had taken Warden Sharp hostage. He found Aaron Cash and a handful of guards standing outside the door, ready to storm it.

“All right,” Cash was speaking into his radio as Bruce approached. “Good work. We’ll take the clown down in no time then.”

He looked up as Bruce grew close.

“Hey Batman,” he said. “That guy you brought in here the other day has a gun to Sharp’s head. Should be easy to take him down though. Guy’s clearly nervous and has absolutely no idea what he’s doing.”

“You’re sure he ain’t the Joker?” one of the other guards asked, while Bruce tapped into the asylum’s security feed, so that he could get a good view of the room beyond.

John was standing on the upper level of the large room, where he had a good view of the only clear entrance. Unfortunately for John, both Bruce and Arkham’s security forces knew the asylum far better than he did, and were only minutes away from entering the room through a small back corridor; one which looked like little more than a storage closet from inside the room and would allow them to enter directly behind John.

“That definitely isn’t the Joker,” Cash replied, sounding as though he was more than a little tired of answering that particular query. Bruce could certainly relate.

“No way that the Joker would ever make things this easy,” Cash continued. “That guy in there; he didn’t even really have a plan. Only reason he was able to get his hands on Sharp was because we weren’t ready for him. As far as we can tell he’s just making this all up as he goes along.”

“And Poison Ivy and Quinn?” Bruce asked.

“My men are rounding them up as we speak,” Cash replied. “It seems their only goal was to break out a dozen or so prisoners in one of the lower security wings. A few of them managed to get out and are still on the loose, but none of them were particularly high-profile.”

They might not be as infamous as Quinn or Ivy were, but there would be a reason why the two women had wanted to get these particular inmates out of Arkham. That would be a problem for another time though; one that Bruce would have to worry about once this whole mess with John was sorted out.

The security cameras didn’t have sound, but Bruce didn’t need them to hear when John started shouting. His voice carried well enough, as did the pain within it.

“This is all wrong!” he was screaming. “All of you are terrible people, and I’m the only one who seems to even notice it! You can’t keep sick people locked up like this! You’re all monsters!”

Bruce patched into Arkham’s intercom system, hoping that he might be able to talk John down before the situation escalated.

“John,” he began, watching the other man through the cameras as he startled at the sound of Batman’s voice. He looked up, as though he might spot Bruce in the rafters overhead.

“You need to let Warden Sharp go,” Bruce continued. John glared up at the ceiling and apparently tightened his hold on the warden.

“I know that you’re scared,” Bruce said. “You want to go home. But that isn’t Warden Sharp’s fault, or the fault of Arkham’s staff.”

“No!” John screamed, waving his gun about. He still seemed to be trying to find Bruce in the darkness overhead. It was no use. Even if Bruce had been in the room with John then he wouldn’t have let the other man spot him.

“This isn’t about that!” John continued. “This place is all wrong. You’re all so cruel! Someone needs to do something about it, and if I’m going to be stuck here then it might as well be me!”

“You’re not going to be stuck here,” Bruce continued. “We’re going to get you home. I promise you John.”

John let out a wordless cry of frustration in response to that.

“He’s not letting go of the warden,” Cash commented. “We’re gonna have to do this the hard way and you know it Batman.”

Damn it all. John was so clearly out of his depth here. The security team certainly wouldn’t need Batman’s help to take him down, but Bruce was still glad that he had arrived at the scene when he had.

“Be careful,” Bruce muttered. “He has that gun pointed right at Sharp’s head. If he’s startled then he might fire and kill Sharp whether he’s meaning to or not.”

“All right,” Cash said, nodding back at the rest of his team. “We go in on three.”

With that Cash started counting down, and then they were busting down the door and storming into the room beyond.

John immediately whirled around, thankfully letting his hold on Sharp go in favor of pointing the gun at his attackers. Several shots went off, one of which embedded itself harmlessly in the layers of Bruce’s Kevlar, but none of the guards were hit.

John seemed to flinch when he realized he had shot Batman, and that second of hesitation was all that the guards needed to pounce on John. Within seconds they had manhandled him and had him pinned to the ground, his face pressed roughly against the floor.

The whole encounter had taken less than a minute.

John struggled half-heartedly as one of the guards slapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

“Come on you,” one of them said as he hauled a now rather ruffled and slightly bruised John to his feet. “I’m sure we’ve got a cell around here somewhere with your name on it.”

“No!” Batman said, stepping in to stand beside John. “You can’t do that.”

“Come on Batman,” one of the guards said. “I’m not going to say I understand it, but everyone here knows you’ve got a protective streak for the clown that’s wider than my ass. We’re just trying to do our job, so stand aside and let us do our job!”

“Yeah, we ain’t gonna hurt him any more than you usually do,” another chimed in.

“I know what this looks like,” Batman said. “But this isn’t the Joker. You can’t arrest him and confine him here.”

“Can’t we?” Cash said, stepping up to Bruce and staring him down. Bruce had to give him some credit. Not many people had the guts to try and glare Batman down, but obviously Aaron Cash was one of them.

“He may not be the Joker, but he’s still a criminal Batman,” Cash continued. “What the hell else are we supposed to do with him, huh? Just hand him over to you? That ain’t how this is supposed to work. He almost killed Warden Sharp, and you just want us to look the other way?”

Bruce frowned.

“The situation is more complicated than you know,” Bruce said. “I’ll take full responsibility for John’s actions here today, and I’ll be taking him into my custody now. You won’t need to worry about him any more after this. I promise you that, and I promise you that I’ll have the real Joker back in Arkham soon.”

“You’re making an awful lot of promises today Batman,” Cash said, glancing over at John, who was looking as miserable as Bruce had ever seen him. “Better start keeping some of them.”

Cash clearly wasn’t happy with the situation, and Bruce was sure that he would have words for Batman if he failed to deliver on his promise, but considering how many of the assembled guards still looked like they’d happily put a bullet through John’s forehead, Bruce would consider it a victory, at least for now.

--

John was exhausted. Nothing about this day was going right. He had thought that if someone had pointed out how bad everything in Arkham was then at least someone would listen. Even if… even if he’d needed to hurt some people then it would have been worth it.

But no-one had listened. No-one had wanted to listen. They’d all just pointed their guns at him and they’d all wanted to shoot him, or at least lock him up so he wouldn’t be able to point out how horrible they were all being any more.

In fact, the guards might have killed him if Batman hadn’t been there.

God, this universe was just the worst. Everyone was so cold and mean. John just wanted to be back in his own universe, with his own Bruce, but there wasn’t even anything he could do to help make that happen. Why hadn’t the other Joker used the Looking Glass already?

Maybe he never would.

John certainly wouldn’t have blamed him. Even if he had started in this universe then John didn’t think he would want to come back here; not when he could stay in the better universe; the one where Bruce was kind and people actually cared sometimes and tried to make sick people better rather than just locking them away.

God, he wanted to go back home so badly. Or he wanted something to be better. Anything to be better.

John was vaguely aware of Bruce leading him back towards the entrance of the asylum. His hands had been cuffed though. The guards wouldn’t hear otherwise, and as much as Batman had stuck up for John he hadn’t even tried to fight them when it came to John staying handcuffed.

John was aware, too, of coming to a stop in front of the Batmobile, or what passed as the Batmobile in this stupid, awful world, when suddenly it all became too much.

He was sore and he was tired and he just wanted to go home, and…

“John?” Batman’s voice reached his ears.

John realized that he had come to a complete stop. Batman was waiting for him to enter the Batmobile, but suddenly that one simple thing seemed far too difficult for John to manage.

“Can I…” John said, floundering, his cuffed hands grasping uselessly in front of him. “I need…”

He waited for this version of Bruce to take the hint. His own would have, at the very least, held out his arms as this stage, or done something to let John know that a hug was welcome. This wasn’t his Bruce though. This Bruce didn’t even seem to know that what John was asking for was a hug.

“Whatever it is just do it,” Bruce sighed.

That was all John needed. He threw himself at the other man, his cuffed hands clutching uselessly at the stiff material of Batman’s armor as John buried his face in the other man’s shoulder. He breathed in the other man in deep, desperate gulps, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t the same. Bruce’s arms should have been around him by now but they weren’t, and he smelled like Bruce but at the same time there was something still subtly wrong about the whole thing.

John pressed against Bruce as tightly as he could, trying not to be offended by how stiff and awkward Bruce seemed to be. He told himself that Bruce had been stiff and silent that first time too, in the fun house, when John had assumed that everything was going to go wrong, and he had hugged Bruce for the first time, arms wrapping around Bruce’s whole body as tightly as they possibly could, just as he wished he could do now.

Bruce had always hugged back after that first time though, and his hugs always made John feel so much better; so safe and secure.

It wasn’t working now though. None of it was working, and this place was so, so dark and broken and lonely, and John just wanted to be home, in Bruce’s arms, where everything made sense.

He realized that he was crying, tears being drawn painfully out of his eyes along with desperate, gasping sobs that he knew sounded absolutely pathetic.

“It’s… it’s not working,” he sobbed.

He felt Bruce’s arms move up, his hands settled lightly on John’s shoulders. He clearly had no idea what to do with them though, and it was suddenly too wrong for John to be okay with. The other man’s touch felt as though it burned, and John pushed him away violently, taking several steps back. It was like being in the arms of an imposter.

“I miss it all so much,” John sobbed. “I just want to go home.”

“You’ll be going home soon,” Bruce said. “We know how the Looking Glass works now, and we know its charging properly again. The Joker and your Bruce will activate it at any moment now.”

“You might be wrong Batman,” John said. “You know, if I was your Joker; if I’d come from here and ended up in the world I’m from, then I wouldn’t want to come back. Not ever.”

John had expected Batman to tell John that the idea was foolish; that the Joker would have wanted to come back to this terrible world, because he was just as terrible, or something like that. Or maybe Batman would be surprised. Maybe he hadn’t even considered that possibility just yet.

When John looked at Batman however he didn’t see even a hint of surprise; just the same persistent worry John had been feeling the entire time. Looking at Batman’s expression, John couldn’t help but think that Batman had been worried about the exact same thing.

--

The Joker was only putting up a token resistance at this stage, getting in a punch or two here and there, but he was no longer dodging Batman’s blows; just staring up at him as though Bruce had hung the stars in the sky.

Bruce had pinned the Joker to the ground and was about to land another blow to his face when he realized what was happening and forced himself to stop with one fist still raised above the Joker’s head and the other caught in the Joker’s jacket, holding him in place.

What the hell was he doing? Was this really what he was going to let the Joker reduce him to?

He looked down at the other man; broken and bloodied and still smiling beneath him, and felt disgusted, both at the Joker and at himself for letting the other man goad him into all of this.

Bruce forced himself to climb off the Joker and let out a cry of rage as he realized this was what the Joker had wanted from him the whole time. And he had won now, hadn’t he? He’d gotten exactly what he had wanted.

“Why,” Bruce said as he whirled around to glare at the Joker once more. “Why would you do this?”

The Joker let out a tired laugh as he pushed himself up to lean against the nearest patch of wall.

“Have you ever had a really bad day?” the Joker asked.

“What?” Bruce murmured, unsure of where the question had come from, and equally unsure as to where it was going to lead.

“Well surely, you must have,” the Joker said. “Something must have put you on the path to becoming the Bat. That part of the narrative can’t have changed too much at least.”

There had been more than one bad day for Bruce. The first one had been when he had watched his parents die in Crime Alley. If it wasn’t for that then he probably never would have become Batman in the first place.

These days though, there were other bad days; ones that Bruce would never be able to forget, no matter how hard he tried; days that had changed him and turned him into the man he now was, in whatever way.

The worst of them had been the last time he had found himself in Ace Chemicals. He and John had almost torn each other apart. Bruce’s heart had been broken, and he suspected John’s had been as well, and it had taken them both a long time to move past it. Bruce had lost Tiffany on that day as well, discovering that the young woman he had hoped might become a protégé was more cunning and cold-hearted than he would have ever anticipated, and then, just when he was at home and hoping that he might be able to rest, Alfred had announced his retirement.

It was a bad day that had simply refused to get any better, and when Bruce had finally been able to stop, he had collapsed into bed, far too tired and numb to even cry.

“More than one,” he confessed.

The Joker looked mildly disappointed.

“Yes, but there must have been one in particular that turned you into…” he paused, and gestured vaguely and tiredly at the entirety of Bruce, “… this.”

Bruce nodded. God, he was suddenly so tired. The Joker looked as though he wasn’t going to get up and try anything anytime soon, so Bruce trudged over to the Looking Glass and picked it up.

“I had one too,” the Joker said, whispering it, as though it were a confession. “Oh, don’t look so shocked Batsy. I wasn’t born a murderous clown, you know?”

Bruce had the feeling that there was more coming, and so, making sure that he had a very tight hold on the Looking Glass, he moved over to sit beside the Joker on the floor, leaning against the same patch of wall, and trying not to look too closely at all of the wounds he had inflicted upon the other man.

“This place,” the Joker muttered. “It was where it all happened you see. I know that much. I can remember the smell of it all; the burning of the acid as it seeped into my skin. And I remember you. You were there. Beautiful and monstrous and terrifying, and so much larger than anything else in this cold, miserable world. I know this place means something to you as well. Don’t even try to deny it Batsy. I could see the fear in your face. Something happened between you and your precious John here, didn’t it?”

“It’s none of your business,” Bruce said, but he couldn’t summon up any real venom behind the words. He was too damned tired.

“So anyway, there I am,” the Joker continued, as though Bruce hadn’t said anything at all, “standing in the middle of a chemical plant, and there you are, and then, whoops, there I go, over the edge of the catwalk and into a vat of something awful down below.”

Bruce tried not to cringe as he remembered how the Joker had threatened to give the Looking Glass a similar fate just a short while earlier.

“That was my terrible day,” the Joker said. “Sometimes I think I remember my life before, and then sometimes it’s all a blur. As far as I’m concerned these days Batsy, I didn’t exist before that very bad day; before you, and before the fall.”

Bruce tried to force himself not to see the similarities between the murderous asshole sitting next to him and John, and failed miserably.

“Who knows really,” the Joker said with a shrug. “I might even be making the whole thing up.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he was just saying all of this to get at Bruce. Bruce had a hard time convincing himself of that however; had a hard time convincing himself that there wasn’t at least a little bit of truth behind the Joker’s words. Why would the other man be saying any of this otherwise?

“You know something Bruce?” the Joker said, leaning back and closing his eyes, that damn smile on his face finally fading. The criminal was starting to look just as tired as Bruce himself felt.

“I’ve been thinking about things,” the Joker continued. “I have, you know? I had a lot of time to think about things while I waited for you. Tormenting Jimmy Gordon could only entertain me for so long considering I didn’t have time to really plan anything special.”

“Get to the point,” Bruce said. He had been hoping to sound at least a little threatening, but even to his own ears he just sounded exhausted.

“So I was thinking,” the Joker continued. “And I came to the conclusion that perhaps the biggest difference between myself and your poor, dear John, is that when your John had his bad day, he had you to help him through it. It’s true, isn’t it?”

Bruce didn’t know what to say. Maybe the Joker had a point. He didn’t want to think too hard on it though. Down that way lay madness; too many ‘what ifs’, and he knew he already blamed himself for this mess more than he perhaps should have. The last thing he needed was guilt over his actions of lack thereof in another universe.

“Why would you tell me any of this?” Bruce asked. “I’m not your Batman. I can’t…”

He couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t turn back the clock and change events so that the Joker hadn’t become what he now was. Even if he could, that was a different Batman; a different Bruce. He couldn’t help the Joker to heal any more than he could go back in time and stop the mental breakdown that had seen John recommitted to Arkham.

The Joker seemed to ponder the question for a moment before responding.

“Perhaps it’s because you mean absolutely nothing to me, and because I won’t ever see you again after today?” the Joker suggested. “Or perhaps it’s just because you and your John seem to have this whole thing worked out so much more neatly than Batsy and I ever did. Perhaps I was hoping for some pointers.”

Despite everything that had happened, for just a moment Bruce found himself actually feeling somewhat sorry for the Joker.

“You could have just asked,” Bruce said. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“No, I did,” the Joker said, and he sounded so sure of it. “I had to make sure, you see? I needed to know that you and my Batsy aren’t all that different. And you’re not, you know? You’re really not. This world is a little bit kinder, but you’re still you, or close enough to it that it doesn’t make any real difference.”

They sat in silence for a short while, neither of them willing to disturb whatever fragile peace had built up. Bruce’s body chose that moment to remind him that the Joker had managed to give him at least a half dozen small wounds in the course of their fight, and he grimaced, before turning his attention to the Joker once more.

“Come on,” he said, as he started to push himself up off the floor. “It’s time for us to head home.”

Bruce picked up the Looking Glass and contemplated it for a moment before turning his attention towards the Joker once more.

“Both of us,” he added.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[an-all-write-life]

Running From Love

Requested by @carolinesbookworld​: Would you consider doing a Marvel/DC crossover? If so could you do one that's like the reader is Jason's girlfriend but then moves to New York for some reason and starts liking Peter Parker (assuming Jason and her are not together anymore) and then Jason shows up and she either has to decide or something. You're a great writer💜

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warning(s): Anxiety(ish?)

A/N: Here you go, lovely! I tweaked the request a bit, but I hope you love it nonetheless! It was a lot of fun writing a crossover. :)

Taping the last box, you stood up and brushed a piece of hair out of your face. Your apartment was filled with moving boxes, all packed to the brim and taped shut. The bare walls stared back at you.

A knock came at the door and you went to answer it, having a feeling you already knew who it was.

Opening the door, you mentally congratulated yourself. Standing there was none other than Jason Todd.

"Hey," You said.

He nodded in greeting. "You asked me to come over?"

"Yeah," You grabbed a box from the coffee table. "I uh...I just wanted to give you this. It's some of your stuff."

Jason's eyes grew wide as he took in the state of your apartment. “Wait…what’s going on? Where are you going?”

You braced yourself for the backlash and sighed deeply. “I—I’m taking the Stark Internship. I leave for New York tomorrow.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me this? I’m your boyfriend, [Y/N]!”

“Really, Jason? When was the last time we even spent time together? Or even talked?” You asked, your temper flaring.

“I’ve been busy! You know that!” Jason said, his voice rising to match your own. “What was stopping you from texting me and saying ‘Hey, I’m moving to New York’, huh?”

“I don’t know!” You yelled.

His jaw clenched. “Are we breaking up?”

“No! Maybe…I don’t know, okay?” You sighed, a pounding headache forming behind your eyes. “Look, I just wanted to give you your stuff. That’s it.”

“Fine,” He said, taking the box from your arms. You could tell he was still upset—his voice was taut and his words were clipped. “Can I see you before you leave?”

You swallowed thickly before averting your gaze and shaking your head. “I don’t think so, Jason.”

He didn’t bother to reply, instead just turning away and walking down the hall. Softly closing the door, you slid to the floor, tears stinging your eyes. You couldn’t see him before you left; everything you’d been holding in would come tumbling out, and you couldn’t do that to Jason.

You couldn’t tell him that you lay awake every night, terrified that it was the night he wouldn’t come home. You couldn’t tell him that the very thought of a world without him shook you to your core. You couldn’t tell him how scared you were of losing him.

And so you’d made a last minute decision to accept the Stark internship that had been offered to you. Maybe being in New York for a few months would help you relax—at least that’s what you were hoping.

Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you got to your feet. The movers were coming in an hour and you needed to move the last few boxes to the living room.

And, in the back of your mind, you knew a task would keep your mind off the ache of your heart.

_____

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Potts?”

Pepper turned to you with a smile. “Shouldn’t you be home, [Y/N]?”

You returned her smile with your own. “With all due respect, I could ask the same of you.”

She laughed and acknowledged your point. “I was just about to head out. Why don’t you walk with me?"

Stopping by your desk to grab your things, you walked with Pepper to the lobby.

“So, [Y/N], have you been enjoying yourself here?” She asked.

You nodded enthusiastically, a grin on your face. “I love it. I’m just sad I’ll have to leave soon. The internship was only for three months.”

“What if you didn’t?”

As you walked out to the street where Happy was waiting in a sleek, black SUV, you frowned in confusion. “Didn’t what?”

“Leave.” Pepper faced you, a smile playing at her lips. “I’d like to offer you a position as my full-time assistant.”

“Wait, seriously?”

She nodded, a sparkle in her eyes.

“That’s—wow! I’d love—“ The words caught in your throat as an image of Jason flashed in your mind. “Um…”

Pepper picked up on your sudden change in attitude and smiled warmly. “Look, why don’t you take a couple days to think about it? I know you’ve got a life in Gotham.”

Relief flooded through you. “Thank you, Miss Potts. I really appreciate it. You’ll be the first to know when I’ve made a decision.”

Smiling once more, Pepper climbed into the SUV and said goodbye. You watched the SUV drive away, its tail lights soon lost among the dozens of others sparkling in the night, your mind and heart at war.

_____

Your apartment was completely silent when you walked in, the sound of your keys jingling as you hung them up echoing throughout the room. You kicked off your shoes and turned on the lights, exhausted from the day and the news Pepper had given you.

Grabbing the first container of leftovers you saw from the fridge, you put it in the microwave while you poured yourself a glass of water. You’d just lifted it to your lips when the doorbell rang.

Sighing, you set the glass down and went to answer the door, wondering who would be visiting this late at night. A chill of fear seized you as the unwelcome thought of it being a burglar or murderer crossed your mind. You quickly discarded the notion; the apartment building you were in was big on security and safety. There was no way it could be someone dangerous.

Still…

Just to be safe, you grabbed a frying pan from the stove. You looked through the peephole on the door, but the hallway was too dark for you to make anything out. Taking a deep breath, you counted to three and flung the door open, the frying pan poised and ready to strike.

You froze as your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the hall and you recognized the familiar white streak in Jason’s hair.

“Jason?” You hissed, your body still flooded with adrenaline. “What are you doing here?”

He gestured towards your apartment. “Can I come in?”

You considered him for a long moment before nodding and stepping to the side.

Closing the door behind you, you watched with careful eyes as Jason gazed around your apartment. Finally, he turned to you.

“Before we talk, do you think you could put down the frying pan?” He asked, a joking undertone to his voice.

You calmly raised an eyebrow and set the pan on the counter, still easily within reach. “What do you want, Jason?”

“You.”

“What?” You could feel the color drain from your face.

“[Y/N], I’ve been miserable since the day you left. I’m so sorry for losing my temper with you that day. I just…I didn’t know what to think. I was hurt that you’d made such a big decision without talking to me about it. And I know that you don’t need my approval to make decisions, I just…I thought you would have told me sooner.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, [Y/N]. I wanted to reach out sooner, but—it seemed like you wanted your space, so…I stayed away. But I can’t take it anymore! I can’t, [Y/N]. Please, please come back.”

You were speechless, your mouth hanging open. You snapped it shut and hugged your arms around yourself.

“Jason…” The words died in your throat. How could you tell him?

“Please, [Y/N].”

“I…I don’t know, Jay.” You whispered.

“Is it the internship?” He asked, taking a step towards you.

You shook your head, your body tense. The situation was eerily similar to the one three months ago and it put you on edge. “No.”

Jason’s face fell. “It’s me, isn’t it? You don’t…you don’t love me anymore.”

“No!” You cried, appalled at how Jason could even think that. “Of course I love you! Why do you think I came to New York? I couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. So I…I ran away.”

Tears stung your eyes as you went on.

“I know that wasn’t the right thing to do, I just…I didn’t know how to face my fears. I’m sorry for that. You deserved better. So much better than I give you.”

Confusion flickered in Jason’s eyes. “If it’s not the internship, and it’s not me, then…what?”

You dropped your gaze and struggled to form words. “Pepper—my boss—she um…she offered me…she offered me a full-time job. As her assistant.”

“She did? [Y/N], that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!” Jason said, grinning.

A smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah…it’s pretty cool.”

“So that’s why you’re not sure about coming back to Gotham.”

You nodded. “These last few months have been so amazing. I love going to the office; every day is something new and different. And…I don’t want to be the girl that gives up on her dreams for a boy, ya know? I want to see where this goes—I want to follow through on it.”

Jason bit his lip and nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. And I never wanted to put you in a position where you had to choose between your dreams and love. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head and tentatively stepped close enough to Jason to place your hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Jay.”

He smiled softly at you. “I want you to follow your dreams, [Y/N]. And if that means staying here, then…I’ll be supporting you all the way.”

“That means so much to me,” You said, cupping his cheek. “We’ll find a way to make this work. You can visit me, and I’ll visit you. And we’ll text all the time.”

Jason closed the distance between you, pressing a warm, gentle kiss to your lips. You kissed him back, smiling. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, pure joy sparkling in his eyes.

“I love you so much, [Y/N]. We’ll make this work. I’m not giving up on us.”

“Neither am I, Jay. I love you.”

Grinning, Jason kissed you again, slow and sweet, and you felt hopeful for what the future held.

1,300+ Milestone Fics-Closed!

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[aion-rsa]

Man of Steel: Warner Wanted This Hilarious Change

https://ift.tt/3BCU46W

Man of Steel may remain widely divisive nearly a decade after its 2013 release, but the pedigree of its storytellers, The Dark Knight Trilogy’s David S. Goyer and Christopher Nolan, is often obscured by the sizable shadow cast by director Zack Snyder. However, for studio Warner Bros., the Henry Cavill-headlined Superman reboot’s primary purpose was to launch the Marvel-like continuity we now know as the DC Extended Universe. Consequently, with such high stakes, work on the film regularly came with suggestions via studio notes. Yet, Goyer’s recollection of one particular note is not only funny, but will make you wonder if anyone’s paying attention.

Goyer, having come through for Warner as the writer of director Nolan’s supremely successful, Oscar-winning Batman efforts, had the material knowledge and gravitas for the job, and was thusly tapped to write the Man of Steel screenplay, with Nolan’s name touted as a story developer. However, that didn’t stop Warner personnel from offering suggestions for the sake of suggestions. Yet, one would think that providing feedback for this crucial Superman endeavor would, in the very least, necessitate knowing that Krypton was destroyed, especially since that galactic calamity played out in elaborately-explosive form in the very footage the studios suits were shown. Oddly enough, as the screenwriter recounts in a broad-topic THR interview, such a prerequisite was apparently not implemented.

“One note I got was on Man of Steel, where the ending involves Superman utilizing the pod that he arrived in as a child in order to bring down General Zod’s ship,” recalls Goyer. “The note we got from the studio said, ‘You have to change that.’ We asked why. They said, ‘Because if Superman uses that pod and it’s destroyed while saving the city, how is he ever going to get back home to Krypton?’ There was just this long pause and we said, ‘Krypton blew up. You saw 30 minutes of it!’

Perhaps putting the franchise cart before the immediate plot horse, someone—maybe a group of people—at Warner thought that the destruction of the ship used by Phantom Zone-escaped villain General Zod (Michael Shannon) and his Kryptonian criminal cohorts wasted a potential opportunity for future film exploits in which Superman buckles in and discovers his roots on the planet from which he was jettisoned as an infant. However, the aftermath of Man of Steel’s flashback first act—having followed Superman’s father, Jor-El (Russell Crowe), in his resistance to Zod’s militant rebellion, and the bureaucracy’s failed effort to save the powder keg planet—left Krypton as broken clumps of dirt destined to drift in space for eons. Zod, of course, was using said ship in his attempt to terraform Earth into a new version of Krypton (a reboot of Krypton, if you will,) thereby killing everyone on the planet in the process. However, while Superman’s climactic choice—under extreme duress—to kill Zod became widely controversial, early watchers at Warner, by contrast, lamented the killing of his ship, which could have facilitated a trip (via the sacrificed pod or the ship,) to the aforementioned clumps of dirt in space for an unspecified sequel.

Warner Bros.

Fun aside, the clear fail moment depicted in Goyer’s anecdote could simply be chalked up as an understandable example of someone at the studio having an off moment—a brain fart, if you will. Moreover, it’s not even the dumbest note the writer ever received, since he previously recalled one for his never-realized pre-MCU Doctor Strange script for Columbia Pictures, in which a clearly-clueless studio suit told him to “take a lot of the magic out.” Indeed, the pressure to perform from the top-down at Warner’s corporate hierarchy was likely enormous, creating a far-seeing mindset focused on the broader franchise; a mindset that ironically hides glaring concepts already in front of one’s face, like, say, Snyder’s lengthy destruction of Krypton sequence. This is especially the case as they were starting to see the fortunes of direct competitors Marvel Studios exponentially increase year after year.

Read more

Movies

Man of Steel 2: Zack Snyder Teases Superman vs. Brainiac

By Mike Cecchini

Movies

From Man of Steel to Zack Snyder’s Justice League: A Complete DCEU Timeline

By Aaron Sagers

Thusly, Man of Steel was never going to be anything less than an ambitiously redefining effort. After all, the reboot was released just seven short years after director Bryan Singer’s Brandon Routh-starring big screen reboot, 2006’s Superman Returns, and, not for nothing, arrived a mere two years after the last small screen Superman, Tom Welling, wrapped up a decade-long run with the 2011 end of Smallville. Indeed, along with the enduring iconic specter of the Christopher Reeve quartet, there was already no shortage of live-action Superman material in the ether at the time, which meant that this new movie had to be something extraordinarily special in order to convince understandably-cynical audiences, yet again, that a man can fly. Of course, arguments about whether or not Man of Steel was an artistic success remain ongoing, especially after the film’s $668 million global box office numbers—while impressive by normal standards—didn’t quite create an uprising powerful enough to match Mighty Marvel’s reliably lucrative world-building.

Tellingly, Snyder’s subsequent DCEU effort wouldn’t be a direct sequel, but instead became a crossover, 2016’s Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, which ended up introducing the name stardom of Ben Affleck as the Caped Crusader for a bleak battle of heroes over vigilante philosophy and apocalyptic dreams. While grosses improved to $873 million for that film, its return on investment didn’t measure up, cementing Warner’s behind-the-scenes loss of confidence in Snyder’s vision, which, coupled with a personal tragedy, led to his exit from ultimately-under-performing 2017 mega-movie Justice League; an exit somewhat rectified by his lengthy redux, Zack Snyder’s Justice League, released earlier this year. However, the DCEU remains in a continuity flux, with more imminent sequels for familiar characters like Aquaman, Wonder Woman, Shazam and a solo debut for The Flash, along with cold-intro spinoff Black Adam and, notably, continuity-disconnected Earth-2-set reboot The Batman—and that’s not even addressing the nebulousness of its television side on HBO Max and The CW.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

…Come to think of it, maybe Superman could have gotten away with that trip to a non-existent Krypton.

The post Man of Steel: Warner Wanted This Hilarious Change appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2W9dTCF

[xavierfiles-blog]

Classic Jean Grey vs The X-Men

This Editorial comes to us from Everett Christensen

People make sacrifices based on how important things are to them, the most common component of that sacrifice is time. The true lifeblood of any hobby are hours and hours spent focused on either consuming or producing the work. Similarly, time is something that connects us all. No one can retry yesterday and once we die, well for most of us that’s it. We grow older and if we’re lucky, wiser. Continuity is the raw happenstuffs of time in comic book form and we as an audience ask for different things from continuity from different companies. But from the X-Men in specific there has always been a focus on legacy, passing on the torch to a new generation, and continuing the work of activism for the marginalized and oppressed. Instead of telling stories about the current generation of mutant leadership, Marvel Legacy is rolling back the status quo with a pair of resurrections. Bringing back both Logan and Jean Grey undermines the strength of every story built on their sacrifice, everything since Charles died.

Let’s recap, in 2010 after the destruction of the Xavier School, Scott Summers moved all of the mutants to an island off the coast of the Northern California. The narrative surrounding Professor X and Magneto changed, both acknowledging the time had come to pass on the mantle of mutant leadership. Wolverine decided to take as many kids as he could out of what he viewed as harms way, becoming the rival to Charles’ legacy. He would be justified in this suspicion as mutants squared off against The Avengers in a costly event that saw a Phoenix Force possessed Cyclops kill Professor X. At this point Jean Grey had already been dead for 7 years.

It was the moment that left only one heir to the dream, Logan. In the years before The Death of Wolverine Logan had the remit of mutant leadership, he was the Headmaster and Scott was the activist, a status quo at once new and very familiar to readers. Logan’s death left the question of leadership wide open and Storm stepped in as interim leader, as is her wont. Fast forward to now and what do we have? It’s the house that Wolverine built. Kitty Pryde is the Headmistress, Jubilee is the homeroom teacher of the ‘new class’, Laura is the Wolverine. These are the women mentored and raised by Logan and they are now the heirs of the dream. Cyclops is dead. Jean Grey has been dead for nearly 15 years.

In a franchise that began in the early 1960s with a mostly, sorta, unbroken line of continuity it is now the generation after the generation that assumed mutant leadership from Professor X. It’s 2017, the fact that we are only on the third generation of mutant leader is wild, but comics have that sliding timeline. Aside from the revolving door criticisms, editorial has given these characters no chance to grow into their positions or examine Logan’s legacy before derailing them with line-wide crossovers multiple times before bringing him back. Bringing Logan back calls into question Kitty Pryde’s position as headmistress and strips Laura’s primacy. This is a regression to the status quo and that wouldn’t be so bad, except for Jean.

Classic Jean Grey is the franchise leading lady, let’s not get it twisted. Originally by way of being the only girl on the team for the 60’s and later by leaving the biggest mark on the X-Men, perhaps of all time, in the Dark Phoenix Saga. She has led the team more than once and was the centerpiece of romantic plotlines time and time again. Bringing classic Jean back sets back the priority for stories centered on the current cast. This was largely inevitable. It was going to happen to some cast someday, it’s the Phoenix. But the cost today must be paid by a diverse and largely female-led line of comics. As a founding member classic Jean steals spotlight that might have been given to actually advancing the state of the line.

The timing is devastating to any momentum behind the stories that we have right now. It’s another one-two punch to a line of books that have been hurting since their launch. The fear is that by rolling back the status quo on the line as a whole it will damage the foundation of the entire line once again, damage that was already done in spades by the Secret Empire and Death of X crossovers. Consider that in the last year we’ve had stories about a large number of the once-again emerging mutant population being devastated by Terrigen Mists and those that survived have been rendered sterile. Though it has not been brought up since the involuntary sterilization of minority populations and reproductive autonomy in general are devastating civil and human rights issues being fought today and must be addressed. Hydra controlled America then concentrated all of the mutants not trapped in a giant Darkforce bubble in California, the opposite coast of the Jean Grey School. Then the newly reformed American government, now without being able to use Hydra’s fascism as an excuse for this behavior, used Sentinels, actual genocide machines, to burn New Tian to ashes. Traumatic is the only word that comes to mind! By once again bringing a renumbering and renaming of the books it is as if this past year of X-Franchise comics have simply been a placeholder, a gimmick to bridge between IvX, a shaky ResurrXion, and Marvel Legacy.

Placing the entire line of X-Men into an airliner like holding pattern for a year is madness. The sidelining of the mutants from the focus of the comics alone is bad enough, but this particular tactic has cost the franchise dearly both in readers and in the narrative itself. Marvel’s merry band of mutants doesn’t need its status quo reset, it needs time to rebuild and craft a narrative that will rejuvenate an exhausted fan base. Endless events and genocidal threats have left the comics anemic, let’s get back to basics and we’re not talking about baseball. Let’s have new mutants, new enemies, new ideological challenges to overcome. Let’s start talking about bigotry and how it gets expressed today.

Generation X by Christina Strain is better than just a good book, it’s great X-Men. It is the exact kind of book we need if we are going to evolve the franchise message about discrimination. It is laying the slow-burn groundwork that hasn’t been done for years, actually giving us space and time to grow to know a familiar cast in an unfamiliar lineup. It’s the natural progression of Jubilee’s story, from a ward of Wolverine to one of the caretakers of his legacy and his school, from student to teacher. What will become of this delightfully diverse book now that Legacy begins to unspool? It and Iceman have been under-promoted in favor of Secret Empire tie-ins and Marvel Legacy hype. This book used to be in the top 10 most sold of all comics 20 years ago, the whole X-Men line used to top the charts honestly, how far the line has fallen. It would be unfair to lose the most promising book in the line because of holding pattern mismanagement!

The X-Men line of comics would be rewarded for centering books like Generation X instead of bringing back classic Logan and classic Jean Grey because we don’t need the same things out of the franchise than we do out of, for example, DC properties. In our lives as comic book readers our grandparents will retire or pass, our parents will get older or pass, we will get older or die. This franchise is 54 years old, this year saw the celebration of Jack Kirby’s centennial and the passing of Len Wein. Buried in the X-Men story is a generational tale of the disenfranchised, each group of leaders passing the torch of activism to the young heroes that will change, threaten, and save the world. It is our responsibility to safeguard the message of tolerance, equality, understanding, and love, to ensure the legacy of our beloved franchise. If either one of these characters had returned individually it wouldn’t be as damaging. It must be demanded that the comic line continues to evolve and grow, not revert to old status quos that do nothing to further The Dream.

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Comic Con II

Previously on Comic Con

The halls were full. The crowds were alive and the excitement was absolutely addicting, coursing through the convention center like its own entity, sweeping through hallways and meeting rooms, infecting everyone it came in contact with, and the stars themselves were not immune.

“Do you know why I love this?” Clarke sighed and smiled dreamily.

“Because you’re a dork?” Raven supplied.

“Because--”

“Because my girlfriend is geographically locked in the same place as I am. Contractually, even,” Lexa answered, leaning against the doorway to the tiny green room behind the main stage.

“Lexa!” Clarke smiled so big she was convinced her face was stuck that way.

Before she could fully brace for it, Lexa felt arms around her neck and her girlfriend tackling her with affection. It was one of the greatest feelings in the world, and she would gladly give up all sleep and even take an early flight just to have a second of that.

Two weeks wasn’t anywhere close to the longest they’d been apart, but any kind of time and distance just felt long. Clarke squeezed her girlfriend tight, inhaling all of her as gluttonously as she could, not caring at all what else was happening.

All around them, the green room ebbed and flowed with people coming and going, with handlers rushing along guests and panels and taking pictures. But neither Thor nor Harley cared at all.

Both of their assistants quickly went about adjusting schedules for the inevitable begging and pleading that came when they got together.

“I missed you so much,” Lexa smiled into Clarke’s shoulder.

“Dinner tonight, right?”

“Definitely.”

“Maybe after the Heroes and Villains panel we can do some looking around?” It was said with that kind of pout that Lexa knew she’d give into in a minute. And then the eyes.

“Costumes?” she groaned.

All Clarke could do was grin.

“She’s incredible. One of the most amazing directors I’ve ever worked with,” Clarke gushed on the panel, earning a squeeze on her arm. “We had so much fun making it.”

“There were many days spent on wires though, where you were not as excited,” the director teased. “The fight scenes, though. Clarke actually scared two trained stunt doubles.”

“I get a little close, sometime,” the actress shrugged, earning a smile.

Deep in the crowd, Lexa smiled, familiar with the descriptions of Clarke having to apologize profusely to a few guys she got  slightly too eager to pummel with her magic hammer.

My girl is lethal. Check out her panel for Thor 2’s trailer unveil. You won’t be disappointed!- @-Woods

A picture appeared attached to her words, that depicted Clarke at the panel. The second appeared of her with blood streaming down her face, over her chin, her nose broken, a smile wide and bloody with thumbs put up to signify she was alright.

“Is there any truth to the rumors of a DC/Marvel crossover?” a fan asked from the line of questions as soon as the panel started to wrap up.

“I’ve never actually thought it a possibility,” Clarke shook her head, adjusting in her seat. “I’m honestly a little nervous to work with Harley Quinn, or Lexa Woods. But I know we have a lot of things in store for Thor.”

“So no comment?”

“I don’t make the deals, I just wield the hammer.”

The crowd chuckled at her answer, though didn’t accept it much.

“Would you want that though?”

Nervously, Clarke adjusted again and thought about the question while one of her costars hopped in and said something about constantly expanding.

“Lexa is amazing. What’s she’s done with the character is amazing. I’m in awe of her, and truly, I’d be daunted to work with her.”

“Next question is a bit broader on the themes--” the moderator interrupted the train of thought, clearly stearing them back toward the task at hand.

Lexa watched her girlfriend on the stage and she smiled and blushed to herself because it was important and she never actually heard those kind of words of support. Clarke was viciously protective, but to hear her describe her craft in those kind of ways, was just mesmerizing, and it made Lexa a little confused.

I’m just madly in love with her #ThorlyQ- @-Woods

It was a rarity that she got a minute. And she couldn’t say agents and studious didn’t constantly give her warnings and tell hr to keep down the love for the competition, but Clarke long since ignored it, instead constantly being her girlfriend's biggest fan, being the fan of every female hero or star or crew member.

It didn’t help that she cut out a meet and greet to go to Lexa’s panel. It didn’t help that she was so damn excited about it that she took to wearing a Daddy’s Little Monster shirt. It didn’t help, but Clarke didn’t care. She was very in love with her girlfriend and her talent and her promise, and she loved to be that person.

“I feel very protective over Harley,” Lexa explained, her hands held out and moving to emphasize her words. “I’m protective over who she could be, and I hate that her relationship is deemed iconic. It should be infamous in the way that all terrible things are. A cautionary tale.”

“But this movie explores that relationship, doesn’t it?”

“It does. But we are very careful in how we handled it. Some want to call it Harley’s weakening. I call it a rebirth, and that’s how we went at it,” she nodded, motioning for the director to help.

Clarke took a picture of the panel and smiled to herself.

“She’s just so brilliant, isn’t she?” she beamed to Raven.

“Sure.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, undeterred by her friend’s disinterest.

Harley Quinn for president. @-Griffin Clarke wrote, smiling to herself as she attached a convincing picture of

The panel continued, winding down. Raven tugged at her friend’s sleeve to get her somewhere on time.

“The helmet is too bulky. How do you wear this?” Lexa complained, adjusting the plastic toy that kept falling in her own eyes.

“How do you wear all of this makeup,” Clarke frowned in the mirror.

There was an answer, or at least she thought she had one, and then Lexa looked up watched her girlfriend adjusted the tights and short, short short short shorts. She always knew that Clarke liked her uniform, and now she understood it. The helmet fell over her eyes again.

“You look good. Great. You look really great,” she managed, shyly peeking from beneath the wing helmeted visor.

“Not so bad yourself, God of Thunder.”

Regaining herself, Lexa smirked and twirled the toy hammer. She was nervous, for many reasons, but she was very in love, and that was enough. She would follow whatever crazy scheme her girlfriend would come up with.

“Shall we, my lady,” Lexa offered her elbow.

Got to dress up as my favorite hero! @-Woods. Lexa posted the picture of her in a helmet and her girlfriend dressed as herself.

Finally got to do ComicCon up right @-Griffin. Clarke put up a few minutes later.

“It was a good year. I liked the trailer,” Lexa grinned, arm around her girlfriend’s shoulder as they made the way down

“This was our last time together for like three months.”

“We have a few days.”

“Not long enough,” Clarke complained, holding the hand that was near her shoulder. A yawn came despite herself.

“Hey, you know how you kept saying how ou liked my work, and stuff? You know that I love watching you, and I’d be down right afraid of working with you, too, right?”

“No, I mean… I don’t know. You’re just…. You’re good, Lex. I do alright.”

“They might try to compare us, but that’s not what we do.”

“I know. I’m just. You blow me away,” Clarke promised, kissing Lexa’s knuckles as they walked toward the car waiting to take them home.

“You knock my socks off.”

“You’d make a pretty good hero, just so you know.”

“I like being bad a little more,” Lexa chuckled, kissing Clarke’s temple.

“Me too.”

[kuwaiti-kid]

15 Best DC Board Games (Become a Hero or a Villain With These Super Games)

Whether you're a hero or a villain, there's a DC board game for you.

Are you a fan of DC comics? Anxiously waiting for the release of Wonder Woman: 1984? Have you been catching up with Doom Patrol on DC Universe/HBO Max?  Reading your way through some of Hal Jordan’s greatest hits while you wait for the Green Lantern 80th Anniversary 100-Page Super Spectacular #1 to arrive? Fighting crime in Gotham City on your favorite video game? Me too. 

Did you know that DC also has a wide variety of popular tabletop games featuring your favorite heroes and villains? 

With the upcoming release of DC’s Wonder Woman: Challenge of the Amazons strategy game we figured it would be the perfect time to take a look at the best DC board games. 

15 Best DC Board Games 

  DC Superheroes Match Board Game

4+ | 2 Players | $19.99

Easy to set up, this matching game is bound to make for a fun game night. Play with fifteen of your favorite characters from Superman and Batman to Darkseid and the Joker as you work to be the first to match five in a row. It even comes with a handy self-contained plastic case, making it easy to take with you anywhere! 

DC Super Hero Girls: Wonder Forge 

4+ | 1+ | $14.95

Based on the popular DC Super Hero Girls animated series, this is the perfect game to play with kids. It promotes memory skills, encourages turn-taking, and playing together. The game offers six different games rolled into one: Matching, Crazy 8’s, Go Fish, Four-in-a-Row, Bingo, and Dominoes. 

The Batman Chess Set

7+ | 2 Players | $43.95

Chess is a forever classic, just like Batman: Forever. In this themed chess game, Batman and Batgirl go up against the Clown Prince of Crime and the Harlequin of Hate. This is the perfect chessboard to start teaching your chess playing sidekick or to indulge in your own love for Batman. 

DC Funkoverse Strategy Game

10+ | 2-4 Players | $22.99

If you’re a fan of Funkos like I am, then this will probably be your favorite game on this list. The game comes with two playable maps, which allow you to take the battle to Gotham City and Joker Carnival Chaos. You can choose between four game-exclusive Funko Pops — The Joker, Harley Quinn, Batgirl, and Batman. You can also buy an expansion pack that adds two new locations Arkham Asylum and Catwoman's Penthouse, as well as Catwoman and Robin to the mix. 

Teen Titans Go! (Deck-Building Game)

12+ | 2+ Players | $22.25

If you’re a fan of the Cartoon Network series Teen Titan’s Go! then this game is the right pick for you! Become Starfire, Cyborg, or Raven or one of your other favorite Teen Titan and recruit others Titans as you play this competitive game. It’s 100% compatible with other Cerberus Engine deck-building games, including the Cartoon Network Crossover crisis deck-building game!

Justice League of America Road Trip Board Game

12+ | 2-4 Players | $25.99

Darkseid has called for the destruction of the Justice League of America and before you can make contact with the rest of the team, Watchtower is attacked. It’s a race against time as you travel around the game board, collecting information about the master plan. The game features several different tokens and passes that must be collected in order to fill out your scorecard and win. It’s an epic strategy game that proves to be fun for the whole team. 

DC Spyfall Board Game

13+ | 3-8 Players | $19.75

Based on the social party game Spyfall, this DC themed version is an easy-to-learn game that will instantly improve any party. At the start of each round, players receive a secret card informing them of the group's location — one of twenty unique DC locations, including Arkham Asylum, the Daily Planet, the Hall of Justice, and S.T.A.R. Labs — except for one player who receives the Joker card instead. The Joker doesn't know where he is, but if he can figure out his location before his cover is blown, he wins the round! It’s a little like Clue meets Murder in the Dark. 

Talisman: Batman Super-Villians Edition Competitive Board Game

13+ | 2-6 Players | $58.73

Take on the role of Gotham City’s notorious evil-doers and free the villains as you work to become the leader of Gotham’s underworld. Based on the classic fantasy tabletop game of Talisman, the anti-heroic objective focuses on building the Health, Strength, and Cunning of the Caped Crusader’s enemies. Play cooperatively or against others before a winner earns the reputation as the leader of the criminal underworld. This Batman board game is destined to become a favorite tabletop game. 

Batman The Animated Series: Gotham City Under Siege

14+ | 1-5 Players | $49.19

This game was the first in a planned series of games based on the series popular animated series, with designs by Richard Launius and Michael Guigliano. Play one of the five highly detailed miniatures (Batman, Catwoman, Batgirl, Robin, or Commissioner Gordon) as you battle against supervillains and protect the animated universe of Gotham City. I will note, if you buy this game you should double-check your figurines ASAP, just to make sure they’re not broken, as they seem to be delicate. 

Batman: The Animated Series: Rogues Gallery Game

14+ | 1-5 Players | $25.57

Based on Batman: The Animated Series and designed by Sen-Foong Jim and Jessey Wright, this game boasts fast-paced push-your-luck gameplay as work to take down Batman’s rule in Gotham City. Play as one of Gotham City’s most devious villains as you attempt to be the first to take down Batman — a task that requires a sound strategy and a dash of good luck. Gather your forces, lay your traps, and claim the ultimate bragging rights as the villain who finally defeated the Batman!

Batman: Gotham City Strategy Game

14+ | 2-4 Players | $52.95

Each player gets the chance to take on the role of one of four fearsome villains (The Joker, The Penguin, Killer Croc, or Two-Face) as they struggle to become Gotham City’s most heinous criminal. As your hold on the city increases, so do your chances of being foiled by Gotham’s great caped crusader himself. 

If you’re not familiar with HeroClix, they are collectible miniatures games that are centered on the world of superhero comic books (like Marvel and DC Comics). They happen to be the #1 Selling Collectible Miniatures Game. 

DC: Rebirth (Deck-Building Game)

15+ | 1-4 Players | $39.99

This deck-building game features competitive and cooperative modes, that allow you to compete for bragging rights against your fellow superheroes or work together as a team to defeat the most devious villains before the Threat Meter maxes out. You can even use them to bribe your rivals for various favors! Play as Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Cyborg, and Aquaman — as you move across the cityscape of the board. 

DC: Forever Evil (Deck-Building Game)

15+ | 2-5 Players | $39.99

You can play Forever Evil as a stand-alone game or mix it with Rebirth or the following Cryptozoic Entertainment deck-building games. This game makes it so fun to be bad and now here’s your chance to be an infamous supervillain. Like every good villain that came before you, the henchmen you leave behind don't count toward the bottom line. Just be on the lookout for lowly thieves who would steal away your hard-earned loot. 

  DC: Confrontations (Deck-Building Game)

15+ | 2-4 Players | $36.82

While this another deck-building game, it can easily be played as a player-versus-player battle that would rival Batman vs The Joker. Most of the cards are suitable for mixing in with previous Cryptozoic base sets. Ally cards are introduced, playable during your teammate’s turn — giving them a little extra boost when it’s most needed. Like any good sidekick would do. This game is best compatible with other Rival games like Green Lantern vs Sinestro and Batman vs The Joker. 

DC: Dark Nights (Deck-Building Game) – Coming Soon

15+ | 2-5 Players | $39.99 

In Cryptozoic’s newest deck-building game Batman has discovered a Dark Multiverse and unleashed evil versions of himself upon our world! The Justice League must band together to defeat Barbatos, The Batman Who Laughs, and their Dark Knights. Unfortunately, one superhero won’t be enough to overcome these challenges. It’s a fight against time to save Batman and the Multiverse as you work to recruit other superheroes to your team!

Pro-Tip: Instead of ordering these games on Amazon, be sure to check with your local comic book or game shop and see if they've got them in stock! DC has made it even easier to locate nearby comic book shops that are open for business with this handy shop tracker.

  The post 15 Best DC Board Games (Become a Hero or a Villain With These Super Games) appeared first on Your Money Geek.

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[guidetoenjoy-blog]

Branded Worlds: how technology recentralized entertainment

New Post has been published on https://entertainmentguideto.com/must-see/branded-worlds-how-technology-recentralized-entertainment/

Branded Worlds: how technology recentralized entertainment

I love Hollywood box-office numbers because they provide a hard statistical view of cultural currents. Did you know, for instance, that there had never been a weekend when 8 of the top 10 movies in America were sequels — until this month? Or that, while almost 400 movies were released in the first half of 2018, nearly 40% of their total accumulated revenue came from just four releases, all of which were superhero sequels?

This is not what was supposed to happen. Ten years ago people thought that visual storytelling would be democratized; that new cameras, new editing suites, cheap streaming, and BitTorrent would combine to render high-cost obsolete-infrastructure Hollywood irrelevant. A worldwide cohort of genius independent filmmakers would use this new generation of accessible tools to slowly supplant Hollywood studios and producers as the drivers of visual and narrative culture.

Hoo boy, did that ever not happen. Instead we just added a few new gatekeepers to the entertainment oligarchy: YouTube, Amazon, Netflix. Instead of a new era of auteurs, of unique voices and stories, the entertainment industry has had enormous success doing the complete opposite: doubling down on sequels, and expanding brands and franchises into massive worlds of corporate-licensed, committee-written, producer-driven branded entertainment, often spanning movies, television, books, video games, and amusement parks. The Marvel Cinematic (and televised) Universe. Worlds of DC. Star Wars. Star Trek. The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Jurassic World.

This is not in and of itself a bad thing. I’m a fan of most of those myself. But it’s worth asking; why didn’t we get that decentralized diaspora of auteurs that was once widely predicted? And what are the longer-term effects of the triumph of Branded Worlds on the grassroots, and the next generations, of pop culture?

There are two answers to the first question: cost and time. Maybe it’s a lot easier to shoot and edit movies/TV than it used to be, but sets, locations, actors, scripts — those are all expensive and difficult. Better amateur work is still far from professional. And while it’s true we’re seeing interesting new visual modes of storytelling, e.g. on Twitch and YouTube,  it’s very rarely narrative fiction, and it’s still  distributed and monetized via Twitch and YouTube, gatekeepers who implicitly (and sometimes explicitly) shape what’s popular.

More importantly, though, democratizing the means of production does not increase demand. A 10x increase in the number of TV shows, however accessible they may be, does not 10x the time any person spends watching television. For a time the “long tail” theory, that you could make a lot of money from niche audiences as long as your total accessible market grew large enough, was in vogue. This was essentially a mathematical claim, that audience demand was “fat-tailed” rather than “thin-tailed.”

But it seems that the demand for entertainment is quite thin-tailed indeed. The more options we have, the more we seem to want characters we already know, in worlds with which we’re already familiar. This makes sense — it takes a lot of work to engage with a new world and a new cast, with no guarantee at all that they will be worth the effort. But the result is that Branded Worlds increasingly feel like vast open-world video games, even including side quests (Rogue One or Ant-Man And The Wasp) along with the “main story,” and a seemingly endless amount of new downloadable content.

I also suspect that many-chaptered, many-charactered worlds are more viable than they used to be because we’re more connected to them. Did you miss a Marvel movie leading up to Infinity War? Well, you can recap its handful of key and killer scenes on YouTube, in fifteen minutes, without having to rent/watch the whole thing. Did you miss the last episode of a TV show, or do you just want to skip to its conclusion? If it has enough cultural resonance, Vulture or The AVClub probably posted a recap you can use as quick Cliff’s Notes. We can dip our toes into Branded Worlds whenever we like, in between diving into them at a movie theater or serious bingewatching session.

The other interesting question is: what does the growing supremacy of Branded Worlds mean for the next generation of writers, directors, and producers? Obviously producers will try to turn tentpoles into sequels, and sequels into franchises, as before; but now they have a new goal, that of transforming a franchise into the apotheosis of a Branded World. (Game of Thrones, The Hunger Games, and Westworld are obvious candidates, though each faces its own set of hurdles.)

Obviously writers and directors are incentivized to create what is most likely to be successful. This doesn’t mean the complete absence of standalone one-offs — we’ve also seen that horror, long a springboard for auteurs breaking into the biz, seems to give us one surprise crossover hit every year, such as Get Out and A Quiet Place. But it does mean that creators will focus on worlds as much as stories, and that fanfiction will become a completely viable path into the industry — after all, writing within a Branded World is simply paid fanfiction. (Creators will also be incentivized to write stories which might do well in China’s burgeoning market, but that’s a different post.)

Again, none of this is intrinsically bad. What I worry about a little, though, is whether the demand for entertainment is so thin-tailed that, as the number of Branded Worlds increases, that demand begins to end with them. It’s pretty clear that once a Branded World gets big enough it doesn’t necessarily have to be good to be successful. (See Age of Ultron, Batman v Superman, the bad Star Trek movies, arguably Solo, etc.) Left-field hits like Get Out are funded because their collective batting average is acceptably high. If Branded Worlds take enough of the mindshare of the masses that the batting average of original works drops faster than their production cost, then we’ll start seeing even fewer of those.

Will that happen? I can’t say — but I can tell you that a good way to measure whether it’s happening is to look at the weekend box office a few years from now and see if, for the first time, fully 9 out of the top 10 are sequels. Watch the numbers; they rarely lie.

Read more: https://techcrunch.com

[thehowtostuff-blog]

I love Hollywood box-office numbers because they provide a hard statistical view of cultural currents. Did you know, for instance, that there had never been a weekend when 8 of the top 10 movies in America were sequels — until this month? Or that, while almost 400 movies were released in the first half of 2018, nearly 40% of their total accumulated revenue came from just four releases, all of which were superhero sequels?

This is not what was supposed to happen. Ten years ago people thought that visual storytelling would be democratized; that new cameras, new editing suites, cheap streaming, and BitTorrent would combine to render high-cost obsolete-infrastructure Hollywood irrelevant. A worldwide cohort of genius independent filmmakers would use this new generation of accessible tools to slowly supplant Hollywood studios and producers as the drivers of visual and narrative culture.

Hoo boy, did that ever not happen. Instead we just added a few new gatekeepers to the entertainment oligarchy: YouTube, Amazon, Netflix. Instead of a new era of auteurs, of unique voices and stories, the entertainment industry has had enormous success doing the complete opposite: doubling down on sequels, and expanding brands and franchises into massive worlds of corporate-licensed, committee-written, producer-driven branded entertainment, often spanning movies, television, books, video games, and amusement parks. The Marvel Cinematic (and televised) Universe. Worlds of DC. Star Wars. Star Trek. The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Jurassic World.

This is not in and of itself a bad thing. I’m a fan of most of those myself. But it’s worth asking; why didn’t we get that decentralized diaspora of auteurs that was once widely predicted? And what are the longer-term effects of the triumph of Branded Worlds on the grassroots, and the next generations, of pop culture?

There are two answers to the first question: cost and time. Maybe it’s a lot easier to shoot and edit movies/TV than it used to be, but sets, locations, actors, scripts — those are all expensive and difficult. Better amateur work is still far from professional. And while it’s true we’re seeing interesting new visual modes of storytelling, e.g. on Twitch and YouTube,  it’s very rarely narrative fiction, and it’s still  distributed and monetized via Twitch and YouTube, gatekeepers who implicitly (and sometimes explicitly) shape what’s popular.

More importantly, though, democratizing the means of production does not increase demand. A 10x increase in the number of TV shows, however accessible they may be, does not 10x the time any person spends watching television. For a time the “long tail” theory, that you could make a lot of money from niche audiences as long as your total accessible market grew large enough, was in vogue. This was essentially a mathematical claim, that audience demand was “fat-tailed” rather than “thin-tailed.”

But it seems that the demand for entertainment is quite thin-tailed indeed. The more options we have, the more we seem to want characters we already know, in worlds with which we’re already familiar. This makes sense — it takes a lot of work to engage with a new world and a new cast, with no guarantee at all that they will be worth the effort. But the result is that Branded Worlds increasingly feel like vast open-world video games, even including side quests (Rogue One or Ant-Man And The Wasp) along with the “main story,” and a seemingly endless amount of new downloadable content.

I also suspect that many-chaptered, many-charactered worlds are more viable than they used to be because we’re more connected to them. Did you miss a Marvel movie leading up to Infinity War? Well, you can recap its handful of key and killer scenes on YouTube, in fifteen minutes, without having to rent/watch the whole thing. Did you miss the last episode of a TV show, or do you just want to skip to its conclusion? If it has enough cultural resonance, Vulture or The AVClub probably posted a recap you can use as quick Cliff’s Notes. We can dip our toes into Branded Worlds whenever we like, in between diving into them at a movie theater or serious bingewatching session.

The other interesting question is: what does the growing supremacy of Branded Worlds mean for the next generation of writers, directors, and producers? Obviously producers will try to turn tentpoles into sequels, and sequels into franchises, as before; but now they have a new goal, that of transforming a franchise into the apotheosis of a Branded World. (Game of Thrones, The Hunger Games, and Westworld are obvious candidates, though each faces its own set of hurdles.)

Obviously writers and directors are incentivized to create what is most likely to be successful. This doesn’t mean the complete absence of standalone one-offs — we’ve also seen that horror, long a springboard for auteurs breaking into the biz, seems to give us one surprise crossover hit every year, such as Get Out and A Quiet Place. But it does mean that creators will focus on worlds as much as stories, and that fanfiction will become a completely viable path into the industry — after all, writing within a Branded World is simply paid fanfiction. (Creators will also be incentivized to write stories which might do well in China’s burgeoning market, but that’s a different post.)

Again, none of this is intrinsically bad. What I worry about a little, though, is whether the demand for entertainment is so thin-tailed that, as the number of Branded Worlds increases, that demand begins to end with them. It’s pretty clear that once a Branded World gets big enough it doesn’t necessarily have to be good to be successful. (See Age of Ultron, Batman v Superman, the bad Star Trek movies, arguably Solo, etc.) Left-field hits like Get Out are funded because their collective batting average is acceptably high. If Branded Worlds take enough of the mindshare of the masses that the batting average of original works drops faster than their production cost, then we’ll start seeing even fewer of those.

Will that happen? I can’t say — but I can tell you that a good way to measure whether it’s happening is to look at the weekend box office a few years from now and see if, for the first time, fully 9 out of the top 10 are sequels. Watch the numbers; they rarely lie.

from TechCrunch https://ift.tt/2LyZqdh

[gokinjeespot]

off the rack #1202

Monday, February 26, 2018

 Way to go all the Canadian athletes that competed in the 2018 Winter Olympics. You made us proud. Now we get ready for some March Madness. It might seem like I'm a big sports fan but I'm not. It's just that it's less annoying than a lot of the stuff happening around the world these days. Sure I was sad when the Canadian Women's curling team skipped by Ottawa's Rachel Homan didn't make it to the medal rounds and the Canadian Women's hockey team lost the gold medal game in a shoot-out but I didn't get angry and upset. No one was killed by some idiot.

 Archie #28 - Mark Waid & Ian Flynn (writers) Audrey Mok (art) Kelly Fitzpatrick (colours) Jack Morelli (letters). I only keep reading this book because Betty is in it. I don't like the walking disaster area that is Archie. Nor the smug Jughead. I really hate that big fat jerk Reggie who should be someone's plaything in prison. The fact that I feel so strongly about these characters means that the creators are putting out a very good comic book but I would stop reading if there weren't any likable characters. Classic Catch 22.

 Doctor Strange: Damnation #1 - Nick Spencer & Donny Cates (writers) Rod Reis (art & colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters). Stephen may not be Sorcerer Supreme anymore but he's still pretty powerful. Remember how Las Vegas was destroyed during a recent mega crossover? Well now the whole city plus its citizens is back on terra firma. Guess where it's been before being resurrected? Hey, they don't call it Sun City for donuts. There's a glitch in Doc Strange restoring all those lives and landmarks and that's where this 4-issue mini takes off. This is a high stakes game between the Doc and Mephisto and the players will be familiar to Marvel Zombies far and wide. Doc's team is on the cover but you'll have to read this first issue to see who's playing for Mephisto.

 The Brave and the Bold #1 - Liam Sharp (writer & art) Romulo Fajardo Jr. (colours) A Larger World's Troy Peteri (letters). DC's old team-up title is back on the racks with a murder mystery featuring Batman and Wonder Woman. There's a strong fantasy element since the murder takes place in Tir Na Nog, the mystical land of faerie. Liam Sharp drew me back into reading Wonder Woman when he did the Cheetah story and here he gets to go all Irish myths for us with runes and rugged faeriescapes. I like a murder mystery as well as the next Batfan but the profuse flowery prose turned me off. It's a tough decision whether I read the rest of this 6-issue story because I really love the art.

 Mata Hari #1 - Emma Beeby (writer) Ariela Kristantina (art) Pat Masioni (colours) Sal Cipriano (letters). This 5-issue mini comes from Dark Horse's Berger Books imprint. I'm glad Karen is still editing comic books. I met her at a DC Retailer's conference over twenty years ago. I was lucky enough to share a group dinner table with her at a steak house in Fort Worth, Texas. I can still remember how happy I was when I asked if I could order a second steak dinner after the first one failed to fill me up and she gave me the go ahead. She thought I had a hollow leg. This book is beautifully drawn but I found the storytelling a little confusing with it's jumping back and forth in time to show us how the lady spy ended up in her current situation. Mata Hari is a very compelling historical figure so I will keep reading this to learn more about her life and death.

 Infinity Countdown Prime #1 - Gerry Duggan (writer) Mike Deodato Jr. (art) Frank Martin (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). Flip the cover and you get an info page quickly telling you about the 6 Infinity Stones and what powers they bestow to whoever possesses them. The story starts promisingly enough with the guy who is the best at what he does fighting off some bad guys and then the new Sorcerer Supreme, for the Infinity Stone that he has. Unfortunately the story deteriorated for me when it came to introducing the other stones. It got way too convoluted what with other dimensions involved and what looks like every dang super hero and super villain to ever exist thrown in. I think I have mega event fatigue. Keeping up with the weekly Avengers: No Surrender story with all those heroes and villains to keep straight makes trying to follow this massive story harder to do. I hope nobody dies.

 Batman: Sins of the Father #1 - Christos Gage (writer) Raffaele Ienco (art) Guy Major (colours) Josh Reed (letters). This 6-issue mini is based on the Batman: The Telltale Series video game with a different back-story than the Batman that we are all familiar with. This Batman's father, Thomas Wayne, was a villain who experimented on people. Bruce is trying to right that wrong and save Wayne Enterprises. You can expect lots of action and the first protagonist is easily recognised. I was super impressed with the art here. Kind of reminded me of Frank Quitely. If the rest of this story looks this good it will be a joy to read.

 Hit-Girl #1 - Mark Millar (writer) Ricardo Lopez Ortiz (art) Sunny Gho (colours) Melina Mikulic (letters). Hot on the heels of the new Kick-Ass book is this 4-issue mini featuring Dave's old partner Mindy. She's looking for a new partner and who she picks is a real winner. This story goes international as the purple-haired perp pulveriser goes to Colombia to deal with the gangs there. I want to see if her new sidekick survives.

 Avengers #681 - Al Ewing, Jim Zub & Mark Waid (writers) Kim Jacinto with Mike Perkins (art) David Curiel (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). No Surrender part 7. It's Kree Captain Glah-Ree's turn to narrate an issue as his Lethal Legion team fights the Falcon's Avengers team for the prize. Some surprise characters pop up right at the end that will make fans clamour for the next issue. Mike Perkins's pages were only subtly different from the rest of the art and that surprised me too.

 Batman #41 - Tom King (writer) Mikel Janin (art) June Chung (colours) Clayton Cowles (letters). Everyone Loves Ivy part 1. I was naïve to think that Joelle Jones was the best artist for this book because there are lots of artists that I love out there. Mikel Janin made me gasp after I flipped open the cover and saw the first page. Page 10 made me sigh. His Poison Ivy will haunt your dreams. The Cat and the Bat face a daunting challenge in this new story. This is a great issue to start to find out why I've been raving about this title every issue.

 Moonshine #7 - Brian Azzarello (writer) Eduardo Risso (art & colours) Cristian Rossi (colour assistant) Jared K. Fletcher (letters). Boy was I surprised when this issue hit the racks. I thought #6 finished the story of Lou Pirlo, mob enforcer. Plus, it's been almost a year since #6 came out. This supernatural tale continues with the location changing from the hillbilly hills to New Orleans. I'm thinking some voodoo be due.

 Superman #41 - James Robinson (writer) Ed Benes (art) Dinei Ribeiro (colours) Rob Leigh (letters). The Last Days part 2. I was tolerating this story about Superman and a native scientist trying to save a planet from a Jonestown massacre until the science guy explains how he's going to save his species. He sure didn't take any genetics classes. I do not suffer foolish science gladly. The good news is that this story is over and Jon learns a lesson in tolerance.

 Defenders #10 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) David Marquez (art) Justin Ponsor (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). Ah Jessica, Luke, Danny and Matt, we hardly got to know you. I don't know if this team book will continue after this but it won't be the same. This sure looks like Brian Michael Bendis's last issue. David Marquez  made me sigh on page 11 panel 5. I'm glad Felicia is okay.

 Incredible Hulk #713 - Greg Pak (writer) Greg Land (pencils) Jay Leisten (inks) Frank D'Armata (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). Return to Planet Hulk part 5. Hulk faces off with the Warlord in the fifth and final gauntlet. The final page had me singing Chuck Berry's Maybellene in my head. Now that we've gone back to Sakaar it's time to revisit another old Hulk story. Get ready for World War Hulk II.

 Damage #2 - Tony S. Daniel & Robert Venditti (storytellers) Danny Miki (inks) Tomeu Morey (colours) Tom Napolitano (letters). I can't say that I am enamoured of the title character since he's just a one hour Hulk but the guest stars are worth the read. Here we have the Suicide Squad and next up is a real hero that I am certainly interested in.

 Amazing Spider-Man #796 - Dan Slott & Christos Gage (writers) Mike Hawthorne (pencils) Terry Pallot & Cam Smith (inks) Erick Arciniega (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). Threat Level: Red part 3. The art and writing this issue was very wooden to me. Kind of stiff and predictable. I don't like Peter and Mary Jane getting cozy again either. If it wasn't for what's happening to Norman Osborn I would consider benching this book.

 Super Sons #13 - Peter J. Tomasi (writer) Carlo Barberi (pencils) Art Thibert (inks) Gabriel Eltaeb (colours) Rob Leigh (letters). The Parent Trap part 1. Damian's mom, Talia al Ghul, needs his help for a hit and she's not going to take no for an answer. The boys find themselves in even more trouble when one of the targets is revealed. Robin and Superboy's friendship may not survive. As much as I love Carlo's art I wasn't happy that Talia looks more like Damian's slightly older sister than his mother.

 Astonishing X-Men #8 - Charles Soule (writer) Paulo Siqueira (pencils) Walden Wong & Roberto Poggi (inks) Edgar Delgado (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). A Man Called X part 2. Y'know, I don't think that the guy in Fantomex's body is Charles Xavier. He keeps saying trust me, I can fix this and then he screws things up royally. So, another comic book with amazing art. Psylocke made me sigh on page 3.

 Mighty Thor #704 - Jason Aaron (writer) Russell Dauterman (art) Matthew Wilson (colours) VC's Joe Sabino (letters). The Death of the Mighty Thor continues. Wow, I snagged a larger than usual pile of comic books off the rack to read last week and inadvertently saved the best 'til last. The writing and art was as powerful as can be. The build up to the last page made it a spine tingling experience. This story is going to be another highly recommended collection when it comes out in trade paperback.