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kudosmyhero · 7 months ago

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Batman: The Long Halloween #13:Chapter 13: Punishment

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● poor Gordon deals with so much shit ● is that “guard” gonna end up being Batman? ● that “guard” ended up being Batman. ● oof, this one is a 50-pager ● here for it ● those are some unwieldy-looking casts… ● ok, Gordon trick-or-treating with his family is hella cute

● let’s see, we’ve got Solomon Grundy (born on a Monday), Mad Hatter, Joker, Two-Face in the shadows I think?, Penguin, Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, and …Catwoman? ● oof, Two-Face’s face is… nicely hideous in this art ● Sophia/Sofia spellings used within panels of each other ● damn, that 50 pages FLEW by! ● 👏👏👏👏👏

Synopsis: Alberto Falcone reveals himself as Holiday and prepares to shoot James Gordon. The fallen guard rises and attacks Falcone, beats him to a pulp and when he is done, he takes off his armor and reveals himself as Batman. Gordon arrests Alberto for the murder of Salvatore Maroni.

When the word is known about the identity of Holiday, Carmine Falcone visits his son Alberto in prison and offers him help getting out with no consequences. Alberto refuses, given the fact that he has made a name for himself and that he is now bigger than any member of the Falcone Crime Family. Gordon and Batman analyze the situation and realize that it all makes sense: Alberto faked his own death to throw them off while he continued killing people. However, Batman feels guilty because he always suspected his friend, the district attorney, Harvey Dent.

On Halloween night, James and Barbara visit Gilda at her home. The woman is still worried for his husband, as there has been no signs of him.

Later, in Arkham Asylum, someone is setting some of the most dangerous inmates free. The mysterious man approaches Calendar Man's cell and flips a coin to decide wether to set him free or not. In the end, the man leaves Calendar Man in his cell.

A few moments later, at Falcone's Penthouse, Carmine is furious because Alberto has been sentenced to die and sill he refused his father's help. On the outside, someone is taking out all the Falcone guards by killing them. The power in the whole building is gone and Carmine is left with his daughter Sofia to confront whoever has entered his building. They follow the trail of dead security guards bodies until they arrive at Carmine's office, where they are confronted by a group of what Falcone would call "freaks". Solomon Grundy, The Mad Hatter, Joker, Penguin, Poison Ivy, Scarecrow, Catwoman and the mysterious man are waiting for Carmine to get inside. Carmine points his gun towards the mysterious man, who is leading the rest of them and demands an answer. The leader of the gang rises and reveals himself as Harvey Dent, only that he is different now. The left half of his face is completely scarred and he calls himself Two-Face. Joker urges Two-Face to kill Carmine so they can split the city between them. At that moment, a smoke bomb is thrown inside through a vent in the roof. Batman comes down on top of Grundy and knocks him down as he releases more smoke bombs. Batman then takes the enemies one by one, from the most dangerous to the less threatening. First Grundy and Joker, then Ivy, Hatter and Penguin and in the end Scarecrow. Batman asks Catwoman whose side is she on and she replies that she is on the same side as always. Batman didn't noticed Two-Face and the man has taken Carmine Falcone as a hostage. Batman recognizes Harvey but Two-Face explains him that Harvey is gone. Batman tries to make Harvey think his actions but Two-Face tells him that no matter how many times they send people like Falcone to jail, they'll come out and it will be and endless vicious cycle and that justice can be decided like a flip of a coin. Two-Face tosses his coin and it lands on the scarred side and thus Two-Face shots Falcone twice in the head. Sofia is enraged to see what Two-Face has done and tries to attack him while Catwoman tries to hold her. Their struggle lead them to the window when Sofia stumbles and crushes it with her weight. Catwoman tries to save her but Sofia falls down from the building. Batman tries to make Harvey surrender, but Two-Face tricks him and knocks him down with the weapon.

Two-Face goes to the District Attorney's office and confronts Vernon Wells, his corrupt assistant. Two-Face realized that Wells was the person who gave Maroni the acid the day of the trial and with a flip of his coin, Harvey kills Vernon. After recovering, Batman arrives late at the scene and finds only Two-Face's coin at the same time that the Bat-Signal is lightened in the sky.

Batman arrives at the GCPD Headquarters and finds Two-Face waiting for him. Two-Face tells him that he did what was needed to be done. James Gordon appears in the rooftop and Two-Face explains them that he just did what the city needed to be rid of the organized crime once and for all. Gordon tells him that despite the goal, Dent betrayed everything he believed in and Two-Face tells him that it is not true. He turns himself and tells Gordon to arrest him in order to let the system decide his fate. Before Two-Face is taken away, he tells Batman and Gordon that there were two holiday killers all the time. Gordon and Batman try to make sense of what Two-Face said. Gordon explains that Alberto confessed to be the author of all the crimes and Batman tells him that Dent is obsessed with the number two and that it might be just a delusion, but that considering that Two-Face killed Falcone with a .22 gun on Halloween, in the end, Two-Face was holiday too. Gordon and Batman realize that they achieved their promise, to get rid of Falcone once and for all, but the price they had to paid seemed to be quite extreme.

Gordon goes to his family, where he decides that despite the events, he must go on his mission to make Gotham a better city by telling himself "I believe in Gotham City".

Batman is sure that what he is doing is of consequence and he won't give up on the promise made to his parents. Batman tells himself "I believe in Batman".

Two-Face is send to Arkham Asylum, where the only thing he can think of is his wife, Gilda…

On Christmas Eve, Gilda is packing up boxes for her move away from Gotham, but before she leaves, she takes a box down the basement furnace. She describes aloud to herself how she read in Harvey's case files about the removal of the serial numbers of guns and how baby bottle nipples could be used as silencers. She then removes from the box a .22 pistol and drops it into the flames of the heater, along with a familiar-looking hat and coat. And she claims that she took it upon herself to start the Holiday killings, in an attempt to end the Roman's hold on Gotham and thus lighten Harvey's caseload so that they could have a child. Her belief is that Harvey took up the killings on New Year's Eve and that Alberto is lying to the police with his confession. She also says that she knows Harvey will eventually be alright and that they will reconcile as she tells herself "I believe in Harvey Dent".

(https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Batman:_The_Long_Halloween_Vol_1_13)

Fan Art: Two Face, I believe in 'Harvey Dent' by PonshoGlez

Accompanying Podcast: ● Bat-Books for Beginners - episode 14

#dc #dc comics #my dc read #podcast recommendation #comics #comic books #batman #fan art #fanart

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batmanie · 3 years ago

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Worth it - Batman TAS

Out of the few books available at the Arkham rec room’s otherwise empty bookshelf Professor Crane had chosen to read “Pride and Prejudice” today. He had read it about ten times already but the small book collection was not getting any bigger and it was still better than reading the Bible.

“Alice’s adventures in Wonderland” had been banned from Arkham’s library quite some time ago for triggering a certain inmate, and “Christmas Carol” had lately been decorated with obscene doodles by the Joker which Jonathan did not wish to see ever again. The nursery rhymes book was always an option but currently, Harley had her fun with that, giggling each time she read a funny one.

Crane was sitting on the couch with his nose in the book, not bothering anyone with his presence. Next to him, Tetch was staring at the TV. The poor man looked so bored, mindlessly channel surfing, probably too high on medication to be able to entertain himself with any Wonderland plots.

With Joker not around, the rec room seemed calm, almost as calm as the sky before a heavy storm. And said storm came unexpectedly in the form of Jervis Tetch.

The bored man on the couch had switched to the Gotham’s evening news channel, listening in to the street interview with one of the new candidates for the city council, and then, out of nowhere, he threw a massive tantrum – his outburst included flipping the coffee-table and accidentally hitting Harley’s head with it. That, of course, resulted in Doctor Quinzel’s aggressive response. Not much remained left from the unfortunate table after Harley had finished with it.

Professor Crane watched in delight how Mad Hatter fought against a guard twice as big as himself, while Harley attempted to smash both of their heads with a table leg before two other guards managed to tranquilize her.

After a few more minutes, the rec room was calm again and Jonathan got back to his book. But as much as he tried to ignore the incident and focus on the plot, a little voice in his head, the voice of the psychologist who he’d never truly ceased to be, kept whispering a very important question. “What exactly has just happened here?” The voice asked, teasing Jon’s professional curiosity. He cast another glance at the tv. The candidate from the evening news smiled at the camera, still explaining how much he was helping the community.

Professor Crane had his suspicions. And who would have guessed? Mad Hatter broke out of Arkham no longer than three days after that event.

David Colton was in his mid-thirties and he was a man in his prime, looking exceptionally professional today in his expensive dark-blue suit, white shirt, and striped blue tie.

“Smoother than Bruce Wayne,” he thought with a pleasant smile, checking himself in the mirror.

Oh, yeah, he still got it! Still looking as youthful and handsome as the prom king he had been back in his high-school days.

“Almost ready Mr. Colton,” the make-up lady told him, and put some more powder onto his already fluid-heavy forehead. “No glossy faces on TV, that’s my rule. Those spotlights know no mercy,” she joked.

David chuckled. “The only thing that is allowed to shine tonight, is my charisma.”

They would have laughed some more, if not for a sudden knocking on the door to his private dressing room.

“Come in,” David called and took a deep, calming breath mentally preparing himself for showtime.

He was ready to present his best self to Gotham again, and at this rate of him constantly being invited to interviews, the seat in the council was practically his already.

His father was right, the ability to make a good impression and a thing for charity was everything that mattered in this town after all.

The door opened and a short man in a trench coat walked in, not a staff member judging simply by the lack of an ID. Yet, the man seemed familiar – Colton just couldn’t quite place him.

“Can I help you, pal?” He asked the newcomer, hiding his irritation behind a polite smile.

The man smiled brightly and took a few steps into the room. “Oh, yes, yes. I think you can,” he spoke with a quiet yet excited voice.

Colton caught his fake British accent right away – and again, it felt like he had heard it before.

“However, I wouldn’t call you my pal.” The man continued grinning. “Would I? Won’t I? Would I? Won’t I?”.

“Listen, pal,” Colton cut him off, not bothering anymore to be that polite. “My interview is starting in a few minutes. Can we get back to this conversation later?”

“I’m afraid that later will be too late,” the strange man shook his head and took out a silver pocket-watch. “It will take only a moment…”

David sighed, the intruder was really hard to get rid of – he hated those nosy people who worked for the press.

“Very well then.” He stood up from his seat and turned to his guest to shake his hand and introduce himself properly. “David Colton,” he offered his hand to the shorter man.

The man didn’t take it, which led to a very awkward moment.

“Oh, but we know each other,” he explained, staring at David with an intense glare.

Colton, confused as he was, took a closer look at the stranger – his blonde, messy hair, big nose, and even bigger front teeth. Suddenly it clicked. “Gotham High! Jervis, was it? Jervis the Jerkface,” he laughed at the old memories of those past, glorious days of his youth. “How have you been, Jerv?”.

“Surely not as good as you.” There was a hint of fake sadness in Jervis’ voice as he put on the black, old-school top hat that he had held in his hand behind his back the entire time.

That single move made Colton recall some very disturbing stories straight from Gotham’s underworld. He cast a worried look at the make-up lady – she looked terrified and about to scream.

Slowly, he gazed back at the small man before him – the man who used to be just a nerdy kid from his high school, a weird boy that everybody had laughed at – Jervis the Jerkface, Beaver-man, Ratter.

“They don’t call me names that often anymore,” Jervis said calmly, as if he had just read his mind, a nasty grin creeping back on his face. He held a card in his gloved hand. “They simply call me the Mad Hatter.”

-#-

Like every other Saturday, the rec room was hosting the four lucky high-profile inmates who had earned their right to be in here, thanks to their good behavior. This time it was Doctor Isley, surprisingly enough, Nygma and, even more surprisingly, Croc who accompanied Professor Crane during his well-deserved book-time.

Everyone was minding their own business, Ivy was occupied taking care of a small flowerpot of violets, Edward played chess with himself and Croc, well, Croc was currently using his claw as a toothpick to get rid of the remains of his dinner.

Jonathan relaxed on the couch that he had the luxury of having only for himself for once. He had tried to bury himself in a book but couldn’t concentrate on reading – something was on his mind ever since Mad Hatter had disappeared half a week ago. It was this tiny, little voice again, telling him to put the book aside and turn on the TV instead.

Slightly irritated by his own decision, he did as his intuition had told him to. The evening news was about to end and an interview with some philanthropist politician was about to start right after commercials.

When the show began, the fat, jovial host greeted his enthusiastic audience, gaining some applause in return, then he introduced the main guest of the evening, David Colton – Jonathan recognized the guy – it was the same politician who had been talking about the importance of charity just a week ago on the news.

Colton looked a bit stiff, smiling unnaturally wide. As the applause died out and the first question was asked, he didn’t move for a good few seconds, as if he didn’t even hear it. Jonathan couldn’t shake off the impression that the man was either on some medications or very, very stressed.

“David?” The host tried again as the uncomfortable silence dragged for too long. “Will you tell us about your foundation? We are all dying to know more.”

“No, Sam,” said Colton with a strangled voice, his face still kind of strange – more like a mask with a very fake smile and a dead look in his eyes. “First, I want to talk about my teenage years.”

“OK, let’s hear your story,” the host agreed, happily, probably determined to get anything at all from his non-cooperative guest. “I’ve heard you were an overachiever. A football player, a class president and even a prom king. Isn’t that right, David?”

“No. I was a selfish bastard who tormented less popular kids. I called them unfair names, put them in a locker, and made other boys beat them up just for a sake of it.”

The audience gasped at this confession. The host’s jaw dropped for a good five seconds.

Jonathan smiled to himself, satisfied that his intuition had not failed him.

“I was a popular kid so I never took the blame for my misbehavior,” Colton continued with a very calm and steady voice, his face showing no emotion. When the camera took a closeup on him, Jonathan noticed a tiny little detail – a 10/6 card sticking out of his boutonnière.

“I never cared for others' wellbeing either, this charity-thing is just for show. I only care for the fame and attention. In fact, you may say I’m not even a human being. I’m an ugly, stinking, lying chimpanzee.”

As soon as Colton finished his last line, an inhuman howl escaped his mouth. The audience screamed in terror. Colton suddenly jumped onto a couch he previously sat on, and he started to act like a real monkey.

Sam – the host – went utterly speechless, he jumped up from his own seat and just stood there, stunned.

Colton, screeching and howling like a mad chimpanzee, grabbed a glass of water from the tabletop and threw it at the host.

“Help, somebody help!” the poor host started screaming.

Meanwhile, Colton was jumping up and down on a couch, making “Ooh, aah!” sounds.

Before the security managed to catch him, Colton already had taken off his pants and his white, hairy ass was revealed for all of Gotham to see.

After that, the show was hurriedly cut off and the weather forecast started.

Professor Crane didn’t even notice that all the other rogues had joined him on the couch, and were now staring at the TV like a bunch of little kids watching their favorite cartoon.

“Well, that was definitely one way to destroy someone’s political career,” Nygma commented with a hint of amusement.

“A few more minutes and he would have started throwing his own poo,” Ivy added with a disgusted frown.

“Poo,” Crock giggled like a five-year-old and everyone else had to roll their eyes. “I like monkeys, monkeys are so stupid.”

“Well, actually, chimpanzees are…”

“Oh, shut up, Nygma!” Both Ivy and Crane growled as one and Edward went quiet.

“Anyway, Tetch should be back with us any minute now,” Pamela concluded with all certainty. “I hope his little revenge was worth a punch in the teeth from the Bat and getting dragged back to Arkham.”

Professor Crane didn’t say a word but he knew from an experience that yes, it was totally worth it.

#Jonathan Crane #scarecrow #Batman TAS #batman fanfiction #Jervis Tetch #the mad hatter #madhatter #bullying #revange #fanfiction #My Story #Bat-mania #temarcia #Batman animated series

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mischiefandspirits · 4 years ago

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Gone

Barbara Gordon was targeted. Richard Grayson disappeared. Jason Todd ran away. Tim Drake was kidnapped. Stephanie Brown crashed. Damian al Ghul was killed.

Hawkfire rose from the ashes. Nightwing soared through the sky. Red Hood hunted the streets. Red X found the trail. Spoiler haunted her targets. Renegade vanquished his foes.

Batman watched over them all from the shadows.

Followed by Black Bats

Deleted scene

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Barbara Gordon was fourteen years old when she was targeted by Pamela Isley. Pamela, calling herself Poison Ivy, blamed Commissioner Gordon for the accident that resulted in her chlorokinetic abilities. She launched an attack on the Gordons’ home that landed the commissioner in the hospital then proclaimed she would reward anyone who could take down the commissioner's daughter. When word got around, it was a free-for-all. The commissioner tried to get Barbara protection, but faith dwindled after a corrupt officer sold information that resulted in the girl taking a gunshot that nearly paralyzed her. Then Barbara’s security detail was attacked by an unknown assailant as she was being escorted out of the hospital. When the girl failed to reappear, the city mourned. Isley was questioned, but she had been locked up at the time and, according to her, no one ever came forward to claim her reward. The commissioner was realistic due to his years in the force and didn’t try to push the searches past the routine timelines. When asked, he would say that they would likely never know what happened if no one came forward with information and he could only console himself with the knowledge that she was likely in a better place now.

Richard Grayson was nine years old when he disappeared from the circus he’d been born and raised in while it was stopped in Gotham. The Gotham police searched, but there was never any sign of him. Commissioner Gordon reached out to Batman, but nothing came from it. After two months the search was called off. There was too much work on GCPD’s plate for them to be putting so much of their focus on one missing child, no matter how publicized the event had been thanks to quite a few of Gotham’s elite seeking to help the poor boy. The Lost Gray Son of Gotham, they called him. His parents remained in Gotham in hopes to find their lost child, but they never succeeded.

Jason Todd was twelve years old when his father reported that he’d run away. Willis Todd, owner of the luxury casino Solitary Wing, reported that his son and an associate had been traveling to the casino together when the boy suddenly leaped from the car while it was at a stoplight and disappeared into the crowd. Despite Willis using his connections to keep it going, the search didn’t last more than a month. Runaways were just too common in Gotham for the police to put much work into it. Willis paid men to keep looking, but after a year all they could come up with was a sighting early on of a boy vaguely resembling Jason disappearing into an alley with a tall man so Willis had to give up. He and his men continued to keep an ear out for the boy, just in case, but nothing ever came of it. The closest thing was a small conspiracy theory about how a boy killed in Ethiopia by the Joker and former Gothamite Sheila Haywood a few months after his disappearance matched Jason’s description, but the theory quickly faded into obscurity.

Timothy Drake was eleven years old when his parents called in his kidnapping. The boy had been home with his nanny when someone snuck into his third-floor bedroom and stole him away. The figure was nothing more than a shadow on the cameras, long and lithe. Every one searched for the young heir, police, Batman, and civilian alike thanks to the hearty reward the Drakes offered, but the search had to be called off after a year passed. His parents continued to offer the reward for any honest information, to no avail. All that appeared were a few claims of people seeing the boy stalking the streets at night with a camera in the years leading up to his abduction, but the Drakes waved it off with the assurances that the boy’s nanny never would have allowed that.

Stephanie Brown was fifteen years old when she and her mother disappeared. Her father reported that his ex-wife must have absconded with the girl after she’d lost custody in their divorce due to an addiction problem. Three months later, Crystal Brown’s car was dredged up from the bottom of a river in Burnside with bags filled with clothing belonging to her and her daughter. The police reported both had died due to the crash, which was likely caused by Crystal’s drug habit. Stephanie’s father continued to search after he discovered their bodies were not located, but he never found them.

Damian Tate was ten years old when he was killed. He had come to Gotham with his mother to meet his father Bruce Wayne for the first time. He was taken days after their introduction by an unknown group. They held the boy for ransom, but when Wayne paid, all he received in return was a video of the boy’s death by a gunshot through the head. When police tracked down the shack he’d been held in, all that remained was charcoal and a few bits of DNA. His parents grieved, even as his mother left Gotham.

Six stories ending in grief.

This is what the news told you.

Hawkfire was the leader of the Birds of Prey, a team of heroines who operated out of Platinum Flats, California. She’d made herself known when she, Black Canary, and Huntress had teamed up to face down the Daughters of Platinum. Instead of having powers, she utilized a belt of gadgets as well as extraordinary computer skills and pyrotechnic gear.

Nightwing was the leader of the Titans, a team of outcast heroes who operated out of Jump City, Florida. He’d made himself known when he led a group of teens against an alien invasion threatening the city. Instead of having powers, he utilized a belt of gadgets as well as extraordinary acrobatic skills and escrima sticks.

Red Hood was the leader of the Outlaws, a team of antiheroes who operated out of a hidden island in the Caribbean. He’d made himself known when he and Artemis of Bana-Mighdall clashed over a job. Instead of having powers, he utilized a belt of gadgets as well as extraordinary strategic skills and an assortment of firearms.

Red X was the leader of Young Justice, a team of teen heroes who operated out of Happy Harbor, Rhode Island. He’d made himself known when he, Wonder Girl, and Impulse freed Subject 13 from a Cadmus lab. Instead of having powers, he utilized a belt of gadgets as well as extraordinary investigative skills and a Bo staff.

Spoiler was the leader of the Outsiders, a team of covert heroes who operated out of Steel City, Washington. She’d made herself known when she and Beast Boy helped save Raven from cultists. Instead of having powers, she utilized a belt of gadgets as well as extraordinary stealth skills and invisibility technology.

Renegade was the leader of the Teen Titans, a team of legacy heroes who operated out of San Francisco, California. He’d made himself known when he learned that certain young heroes were being targeted by the Demon's Fist. Instead of having powers, he utilized a belt of gadgets as well as extraordinary martial arts skills and a katana.

Oracle was a powerful computer program, one utilized by Batman in his war on Gotham’s underbelly and occasionally brought in to help on Justice League cases. Some theorized it may be a form of artificial intelligence, but none have ever been able to confirm it.

Black Bat was an urban legend, a shadow sometimes said to be seen at Batman’s side as he worked in Gotham. There was no proof of their existence except the whispers. No one could agree if they were child or adult, male or female, short and stocky or tall and lithe.

Six stories of hope and power, one story of logic, and one story of rumors.

This is what the news told you.

What the news won’t tell you?

Hawkfire’s teammates know her as Babette "Betty" Kane, but her family calls her Barb, Barbara, Mistress Barbara, Babs, Barbie, Babsy, and Kane. She was the first Oracle. She was the second to stand as Black Bat.

Nightwing’s teammates know him as Dixon Malone, but his family calls him Dick, Master Dick, Pixie, Dickie, Flyboy, and Brother. He was the first Black Bat. He was the second to work as Oracle.

Red Hood’s teammates know him as Jace Knight, but his family calls him Jay, Master Jason, Redjay, Little Wing, Red, Scrappy, and Knight. He was the third to work as Oracle and Black Bat.

Red X’s teammates know him as Alvin Draper, but his family calls him Tim, Master Tim, Shortie, Timmy, Timtim, Chipmunk, and Draper. He was the fourth to work as Oracle and Black Bat.

Spoiler’s teammates know her as Carrie Kelley, but her family calls her Steffi, Stephanie, Mistress Stephanie, Shadow, Stepstone, Stepher, Steph, and Kelley. She was the fifth to work as Oracle and Black Bat.

Renegade’s teammates know him as Terrence Malone, but his family calls him Damian, Master Damian, Dames, Dami, Demon, and Terry. He was the sixth to work as Oracle and Black Bat.

Batman to most was Gotham’s Dark Knight. A few of his Justice League companions know him as Bruce Wayne, but his family calls him something else. For Alfred, he was Master Bruce. For Barbara, he was Uncle Bruce. For Dick and Tim, he was Dad. For Jason and Stephanie, he was the Old Man. For Damian, he was Father. For all of the kids, he was their protector.

The news will tell you a lot, but they don’t always know what’s going on behind the scenes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If anyone's confused, Barbara comes first because I like The Batman (2004)'s timeline of Batgirl coming before Robin. It kind of eases Bruce into both having a partner and being a parent before Dick shows up in all his traffic light glory.

All their aliases are references so see if you can figure them out. I think Jason's is the most obscure, but we'll see (No, it's not Arkham Knight. I only remembered that connection after I'd settled on the name).

#batman #batfam #witness protection: vigilante style #fanfiction

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miss-choco-chips · 5 years ago

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Soul Shards part 4

I have nothing to say for myself. Don’t kill me? I tried to edit this, but it’s longer than what I’m used to, so I probably fucked up somewhere along the way.

This... will probably need another part. Or should I leave it like this? I dunno.

Enjoy!

~~~.~~~.~~~

Timothy’s eyes shone hatefully. It was the most beautiful shade of icy blue he had ever seen. Even if the emotion was such a dark one, they weren’t empty anymore.

-It’ll be over soon -he shushed, slowly sinking to his knees and bringing the man into his lap, almost engulfing him between arms and firm chest, as if to protect him from the pain that was coming from deep inside; distantly, he heard Kon and Jon’s voices as they approached, their concern obvious but unimportant at the moment-, you just have… a lot of emotional catching up to do.

~~~.~~~.~~~

16 - 21

The young man raised his eyes from the documents he was revising, merely glancing over Damian’s case files.

-Zsasz -was all he said, before going back to his own thing.

Damian a year ago might have gotten mad, thinking Timothy was sprouting spur of the moment lies to get him to stop nagging him. He knew better now, that the man didn’t need more than a second of looking at his carefully collected evidence to make a verdict.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, though.

-How? -was all he asked, giving the file a closer look, trying and failing to see what the other could- He was at Arkham at the time of the crimes, there’s witnesses and video evidence.

Timothy didn’t seem to be paying attention to him any longer, answering by rote but not taking his empty eyes from his own work.

-Not Zsasz himself, but not a copycat either. This is the work of a lover, or someone romantically interested in the bastard. Could be a courting gift, a mean to attract his attention, or both. Look deeply into any woman…

-Or man, or both, or neither -he felt compelled to add. Timothy shrugged, but his soul gave an approving humm.

-... or man, or both, or neither -the detective conceded, dropping his papers in favor of his coffee cup and tablet-, visiting him this last few months, or that could have benefited from any of Zsasz murders; maybe he unknowingly saved someone by killing their abuser or something like that, and they fell for him. Think Misa Amane from Death Note.

As he did any time Drake dropped a reference, Damian made a mental note to check this out. At least, “Death note” sounded more his style than the time he had to watch both Mean Girls movies.

-How do you know it’s a love interest and not, say, an apprentice?

Without dropping his cup, and balancing the tablet against his legs where he was sitting on the couch, Timothy raised his other hand and pushed one of Damian’s papers across the coffee table towards him. One of the autopsy’s photos.

-The cuts. Zsasz usually makes them all across the body, picking certain places that would make his victims bleed to death as slowly and painfully as he feels like. These, instead, are focused on the chest area, almost circling the person’s heart. In this one, a victim that was murdered specifically on Valentine's day, the cuts are even closer to it, almost framing the heart.

-...I can see it -he muttered, eyes widening. After two weeks of useless tumbling around this case, it was only when he caved and went to Timothy for help that he finally had some possible lead on it. And, as every time he did this before, a few minutes was all he needed to figure it out and to point him in the right direction.

-I’d hurry, if I were you. The least thing Gotham needs is a new villian power couple, a “Harley and Joker” take two. It was just too good when she left him for Ivy, so don’t allow anyone else to take their places as the criminal lovers of the city.

Damian nodded and went back to his files on Zsasz, energies and will renewed. Timothy ignored him once again in favor of his own things, and silence enveloped them. He didn’t mind; the icy blue soul’s warm encouragement was all he needed.

----.----

-It has grown -commented the older of the two, watching from the corner of his eye the souls on Damian’s lap. They had to fight some sea monsters at the beach, and sand had gotten into his pouch, so he stopped at the earliest chance to clean it up.

It was the first time Timothy saw his soul in years. Damian had being careful to not take it out around him, scared it might spook the man into leaving.

If anything, he seemed curious.

-It has? -he asked, dropping his own back on its hiding place and rising the other to eye level- It still fits in my palm the same way it always did.

Timothy rolled his eyes.

-Yeah, and your hand is the exact size it was when you were twelve? Brat, you are already taller than me -wipe that smile off your face, we both knew this day would come. You grew, and if it still fits the same, it’s only logical that it did as well. You probably didn’t notice because you see it all the time, and since your soul has also grown, there’s no sure way for you to compare them and realize it.

Amazed, and more than a little happy, Damian examined it closer. He was right, of course; now that it was brought to his attention, he couldn’t unsee it.

-A soul grows and thrives on multiple things -kept going the other, shaking his head to get as much sand as possible off his hair-, both positive or negative.

Damian knew this, has seen the sheer size of the Joker’s rotten soul, doubled after his latest killing spree: it fed on the pain of his victims. It was a disgusting sight, but one that proved just how different the psychopaths they fought saw life, and how unlikely it was they’d ever stop.

-And in this case? -he asked, refraining himself from saying ‘your’ instead of ‘this’.

A shrug- If I had to guess, love, like most people’s. It was what always healed me, time and time again, growing up; love for my friends, parents, family, people I liked… It started to shrunk when half the people I cared for died, and the other half didn’t seem to want my feelings nor return them. Poor, past-me’s soul was starved to death. You seem to have it well fed, tough.

It was said tonelessly, but Damian felt two sizes taller all the same. The soul at hand seemed to shine in front of his eyes (although it was probably just the sun’s reflection), and a quick succession of images flashed across his eyes.

Kon El, Bart Allen, Cassie Sandsmark and a few other heroes he recognized from Drake’s old Young Justice photos, going out of their way to seek him out and keep him company in his self imposed soulless exile.

Grayson, Father and Todd sitting quietly at the Cave’s Red Robin memorial (with cracked glass; The Red Hood hadn’t reacted well the first time he saw it), sharing stories of the man as they knew him: brother, son, childhood friend.

Cain and Brown, sitting back to back, holding the other’s soul shard; Brown delightedly absorbing the love Timothy had put in Cain’s icy blue compass, and the other carefully caressing the almost black locket, cocooning it in her hands, as if trying to breath emotions back into the almost empty thing.

Himself, tirelessly looking for information on the man years ago, following him around more recently. Taking hits for him during the times they worked together, doing his best to keep Grandfather away, sneakily replacing his coffee for decaf.

(taking care of his body)

Holding the precious icy blue orb in his palms, cradling it against his chest when sleeping or fondling with it between his fingers when troubled or distracted. Constant, tender touch. Never damaging it. Never leaving it alone. Never ignoring the feelings it sent his way.

(taking care of his soul)

Timothy looks indifferent, typing away at his new phone (he changed them almost every day, no doubt to keep Oracle or Father from finding him), but his soul reacts beautifully to Damian’s thoughts.

Fed by love, indeed.

-----.----

17 - 22

After he saved some children and comforted them during patrol, when he had (briefly) the upper hand against Cain in a spar, when he successfully talked Todd down from blowing up a building, when he stood firm against father in order to protect Jon, Colin and the rest of his friends from a scolding, when he tried (and failed) to help Alfred bake Grayson a cake for his birthday… each time, he would feel a tug from the not-so-little-anymore orb, and when he took it out of his pouch to inspect it, he’d always see a new, beautiful green and gold spot slowly dying the area surrounding the core.

Little specks of his colours, appearing here and there at times that seemed random to him, but evidently were appreciated by Drake’s soul.

It scared him so badly he could barely sleep without nightmares. Because, even if it meant tentatively good things (he was leaving a mark on Timothy where not even Todd had reached, was securing himself a way into his heart), it also meant a change.

What if, after all his efforts, this made impossible for Drake's soul to fit into his body after all?

After the soulless man had pointed it out for him, he begun to notice things. Not only the suddenly appearing, breathtaking looking spots on the icy blue sea of his soul, but how it seemed to shine more with each passing moment, how the feelings it gave off were more intense (it had come as a surprise; he would never had guessed they were muted before, until he was almost blown away by the soul’s rage after an encounter with Deathstroke left Nightwing at death’s doors), how the small little bumps and dents in it were filled out as the soul grew, healthier and prettier.

It had grown so full of feelings, so strong, he feared. What if, even if he got Timothy to take it back, his body couldn't accept it due to its changes? Or what if the accumulated feelings were too much for him to take, to process? He certainly had some emotional baggage to catch up to, and he had little to no information on soulless people accepting their core back to properly predict what outcome they might face.

He was scared by the changes. He was excited about his colours slowly taking space into Timothy’s soul. He couldn’t rest properly anymore.

The soul was a faithful companion on his long, sleepless nights. It spoke to him, in a language of feelings and abstract-like images he had come to learn with the years. It returned his love and care tenfold, in a way he knew only Drake, with his seemingly unending flow of emotions, could do.

A part of him (Wayne, hero, martyr) didn’t believe himself deserving of it. None on his family, with maybe Cain and Pennyworth as the exceptions, were worth the unconditional trust and loyalty Timothy bestowed upon them.

The part that was purely Al Ghul (proud, selfish, greedy) asked for moremoremore, and only himhimhim.

That didn’t help his insomnia.

Neither did Timothy’s warm comfort.

The feelings, on both ends, only grew.

-------.-------

When he finally gathered courage and went to the source, Timothy himself, to show him the changes on the orb, the man only hummed, undeterred in his task of cleaning the kitchennet of this small place he was using for the week. They were somewhere in Singapore, and Damian could see the sea from the living room window.

-It’s such a shame, really -he spoke, as his hands worked steadily and with the ease of familiarity on making both coffee and Damian’s favorite tea. Never let it be said he didn’t know how to host. Another muscle memory skill, no doubt.

-What is it?

-You fell victim to Robin’s Third Law. I thought you might have been excepted from it, but obviously not. So sad. If I had an Alexa, I’d have her play sad violin tunes.

Ignoring the last bit, he took his eyes from where he was comparing the blue and green souls (his and Drake’s), and glanced in his direction.

-Third Law?

He never heard of it before. He would remember if Father or Grayson told him about it.

-Hmm -he nodded, brining a tray with the beverages and cookies to the low table, taking his seat in front of Damian, back to the window (whether this was trust in him to watch out for him in case they were attacked, or he simply didn’t care, he didn’t know)-. It’s a theory I developed while Stephanie was Robin, and you only confirmed it for me. First Law: Each Robin shall have his or her Batgirl. Dick and Jason had Barbara, me and Steph (though very briefly on her case) had Cass, and you currently have Steph. Second Law: Each Robin will have either a Super, a Speedster, or both, as his or her friend and teammate. Dick had Wally, Jason Bizzarro, I had both Kon and Bart, Steph teamed up with Kara for a while there, and you have Jon.

Blinking rapidly, he nodded. It- it was too much of a coincidence. Timothy’s claims, as always, had their merit, no matter how far fetched it seemed to have three unescapable facts following the wearer of the Robin mantle.

-And the Third Law?

-Each Robin will fall in love with their predecessor, without a happy ending.

That stopped him cold, tea cup halfway to his mouth.

He knew?

It must have shown on his face, because the man rolled his eyes.

-Just because I don’t have feelings of my own any longer doesn’t mean I can’t recognize them on someone else. I told you, the soul that belonged to me -he nods in the direction of Damian’s lap, where he had placed the soul while they eat- thrived in love. It’s almost the size it was back then, when I was young, idealistic and stupid.

A sip of coffee. Timothy’s soul reached out tentatively, it’s metaphorical touch brushing Damian’s own, a wave of lamenting and corresponding. He didn’t want to focus on what it meant.

-Dick loved the boy he was, the little Robin his parents raised, that flew on the trapeze without a care on the world. That kid died the night his parents fell. Jason most likely had a crush on Dick back when he was Robin, though the way he was treated by him back then killed that tentative love. I know, because I studied him for years, until I learned everything there was to learn about my predecessor and friend.

Damian listened, but half his mind was on the unrelenting wave of feelings Timothy’s soul was sending his. There was a message there, but he was way too overwhelmed to understand it.

-Myself, well, since you have that thing -he pointed to Damian’s lap, then shrugged-, you must know about my hopeless, tortuous love for the bastard. You know, even though past me trained himself with a flight or fight response to him, it still took me some battle time to go for the fight one? My body couldn’t seem to settle into the idea of hurting him -he sighed, shaking his head- Stupid little brat.

-Th-then… What about… Brown did have you. Her... her love didn’t have a tragedy following.

TImothy merely raised an eyebrow.

-Even before she faked her death, I was kind of an asshole with her, always demanding she hang up the cape. Then, when she came back, I was so pissed and betrayed, I couldn’t even look in her direction as much as I couldn’t take my eyes away; from what I remember, it was hell. I’m pretty sure a part of her will always love past me, just like him would always love her a bit, but they’re never getting back to what they were. There’s just too much polluted water under the bridge.

-Her shard is almost completely black and empty -he muttered, eyes dragged against his will to the Icy blue (and green and gold, now) soul.

Timothy laded his head- Doesn’t surprise me. Kon, Bart and Cassie all have theirs in almost perfect shape, though some spots here and there are losing their colours. They were absolutely freaked out when it started to happen, came straight to me to yell about friendship, bonds and shit like that. I’m guessing both Cass and Alfred’s pieces are the same -at Damian’s reluctant nod, he smirked- about time, too.

Damian didn’t comment on it, because he was well aware of how much Drake wished for all his soul shards to go completely null. When that happened, his soul would have definitely died, no take backs.

There was also the matter of the soul core, in Damian’s possession, that kept on thriving and growing, but Drake didn’t seem too worried about it, which scared Damian in turn.

-And, lastly, young current Robin. In love -he smirked-, ah, no, corresponded love, judging by the green spots, with his predecessor. Tough luck. The soul might have feelings for you, but the body certainly doesn’t (muscle memory from back then is a bitch, isn’t it?), and those by themselves are not enough, are they? Such a tragedy.

He smirked while talking, empty eyes not really caring about Damian’s crushed heart.

He hated him, a little, just then. Not nearly as much as he loved him, sadly.

-------.-------

Watching him through the monitors of the cave was such a normal thing for him to do, it no longer called to the attention of his family members. They just accepted it as one more of Damian’s oddities and moved on.

Sometimes, Grayson or Todd would stop by. They would comment on some sparring mistake he made, or marvel at the mission report when Drake’s explanation on the thought process that drove him to solve it was beyond amazing, longing and pain lacing their words.

Cain and Brown rarely accompanied him, but when they did, it was their choice on what to watch, and more often than not it was some funny, endearing thing, like Drake’s comm quips, or mask recordings on the cheesy puns he threw to his enemies.

Father never stayed, once Damian took a seat by the Batcomputer. It was beyond frustrating, his decision to pretend his son was dead, from the memorial to avoiding all talk of him unless forced. Timothy was out there, and Damian held in his pouch the answer to his predicament, but no, Father would sooner think him dead than deal with the emotional rollercoaster Damian was currently riding.

Timothy defied death itself when everyone else thought Father dead. He went toe to toe with a devil like his Grandfather, and came out on top, for him. It angered him, not seeing such devotion returned. Todd’s death and later criminal career had undoubtedly messed with his emotional bonds with all his children, but this was just ridiculous. They fought over it, often. They fought a lot, these days; his older siblings said it was a rite of passage, to reach that moment when Robin was just done with Batman’s shit.

-Master Damian, you never showed up for supper. I took the liberty of bringing some leftovers for you to snack on here.

Lost as he was, both in thought and in footage of Timothy reaching a compromise with Poison Ivy, he had to repress a startled jump; it would be unbecoming of him, with all his training. Though, Pennyworth probably knew anyway. He always did.

-Thank you -he nodded, accepting the plate stacked with sandwiches. The old butler left a cool glass of water by the computer’s keyboard, and his eyes went up to the image of Timothy returning home after another successful mission. His tired eyes seemed to soften.

-How is Master Timothy fearing, young sir?

As sure as he was that everyone suspected him, only Alfred directly addressed the fact that Damian went to his old charge, time and time again. Even so, when he asked for “Master Timothy”, he always referred to the same.

Wordlessly, one hand holding a sandwich, he retrieved the soul next to his from the pouch. The spots weren’t bigger than last time, but more numerous.

One finger softly caressed the orb. He wouldn’t feel it, but Damian could, and it always warmed him the way Timothy’s soul reacted to the old butler’s touch.

-To think I let a young man under my care to go starved... -muttered the man. He hadn’t taken well when Damian confied on him the reason why the blue orb used to be so little.

-It was a shared mistake, Pennyworth. If anything -he nodded towards the man’s bowtie, where the small icy blue shard still shone- it’s evident how you -and Cain- were far from the worst perpetrators. The fault lies on the rest of us.

The man sighed- It’s such a shame, truly. Master Timothy was such a bright, full of life young man… his heart might have been naive, but it rarely steered him wrong.

While he spoke, the man went around Damian, reaching for the keyboard. A few clicks later, and a video file he never saw before was brought forth. Timothy’s young face appeared on the screen, and Damian paused, softly putting his glass back down.

On screen, his predecessor, down to his old Robin pants and no shirt, was finishing a training routine on the mats.This one, he didn’t recognize.

-I searched every bit of information on Drake, how…?

As he asked, another figure appeared on screen, this time… an odd version of Nightwing. He started needling Timothy (the file lacked audio), seemingly asking for something the other kid wasn’t willing to provide. He kept shaking his head.

-I have every bit of photographic evidence of Master Richard’s… most questionable clothing choices password protected, least he finds a way to get rid of all of it. It’s for posterity’s sake, you understand? And to maybe help refrain him from trying his hand at “improvising a new suit” ever again.

Looking at his mentor’s mullet hair and deep v-neck, he can’t exactly bedrugde Alfred his counter measures. He’s feeling shame just by looking at a video, can’t even imagine what living through that must have been for the poor butler.

-Grayson’s fashion sense is sadly lacking, isn’t it?

-I wouldn’t call that fashion, Master Damian, nor sense. One could forgive and forget the first Robin suit, a circus child in need of colour and reminders of home. But this? -a stiff nod to the screen- This makes me worry for any children he might have.

-I’ve been keeping him away from orphanages -he assures the old man, because at this point, it was a two on two battle, him and Pennyworth against Father and Grayson and their inability to keep their greedy paternal paws off of possible new family members.

-Good lad.

In silence, they watch as Nightwing goes off screen, returning later in civies. One would think anything would have been less of an eye sore, but the bright green pants, red sneakers and yellow shirt aren’t so much better than glitter and feathers in a skintight suit.

Shockingly, though, Timothy-on-screen seems to disagree. Graysons’ renewed efforts at convincing him of whatever he wanted bore fruits, and soon enough, both vigilantes left the scene. Automatically, the video started to reproduce again, on a loop.

Alfred hummed, taking back the empty tray- I would highly recommend you went upstairs to try and sleep, young Master. Your eyebags are two thirds the size Master Tim’s used to be, and that’s worrying on its own.

He wanted to protest, but the look on the old man’s face made him reconsider. There was very little any of them could do to repay Alfred for everything he did for the family. Easing his concern was just a start.

Silently, he closed the files he was revising and walked side by side with the butler.

-I wonder what was what Grayson said, to make Timothy concede -he commented, while they slowly hailed back to the Manor.

-Nothing of great importance -was his answer-. Master Timothy’s will is a force to reckon, but he always found Robin to be his Achilles’ heel. The moment Master Dick changed into civies the colour of his first suit, poor lad had lost the battle.

The words kept spinning in his head, even after he went to bed.

It wasn’t a plan, not even the beginnings of one, and it lacked all the finesse and detail attention one of Timothy’s would have, but it was more than he had yesterday.

A start.

------.------

He went to Kent with his idea. Conner. Kon El.

(Not Superboy. Not his Superboy, at least; just like he wasn’t his Robin)

He choose him, because he could fly them somewhere away from his Grandfather's ears. Because he was better at lying than the Impulse, and less noble and forthcoming than Wonder Girl. He trusted him more than he did Timothy’s other Young Justice old teammates.

But, more importantly, he knew Kent would be ready and willing to do whatever it took to get Drake back.

-You know it’s gonna hurt him -the clone pointed out, face serious and stony. He was already preparing himself mentally for the backslash of what they were going to do. His hand had raised up to the Icy blue earring. Out of everyone else, Cain and Pennyworth included, his soul shard was the brightest; his love and loyalty to Timothy never once wavered.

The soul in his pouch gave a warm wave of fondness. He suspects that, during Drake’s darkest hours, his best friend’s love was what kept the little orb fed. Even now, he felt it strengthen under Kent’s undying devotion.

-I know.

There was no question it would. If they succeeded, the onslaught of feelings would be far too much for anyone to handle. Timothy, awesome as he was in every other field, would not be the exception.

-He’s probably gonna hate me.

-No -he shakes his head, echoing on Timothy’s soul sentiments- He never could. You and the others… he’s weak to you. That’s why I’m asking for your help. I need you there first, to soften him up to the idea. Make him more… receptive.

A pause. Then:

-It’s me he’s going to hate.

-At first, for sure- the easy admission, from the mouth of someone as well (or better) versed in the mysteries and wonders of one Timothy Drake, hurt; then, the man continued- but I can promise you, it won’t stay in the way of your little love story for long. He will cave soon enough.

Startled, he looked into the meta’s eyes; mischief, but a shade of seriousness. He wasn’t lying.

-There is no love story. Only redemption for me, and a chance at happiness for him.

-Yeah, yeah, I know, you bats are all for ‘what’s right’ and ‘emotions and personal life are for the weak’. I’m just calling it like I see it, dude, and anyone can see how you look when you talk about him. And, honestly? It’s a little creepy, Edward Cullen style, the way you spent your entire teenagedhood pining after someone without actually interacting with him for almost half of it.

Multiple reactions raced through his mind. Embarrassment, denial, rage…

...resignation.

-I’m not worthy of his affections, not after everything. And even if I was, who’s to say the feelings his soul has now will be the same once it’s back with its rightful owner?

Kon El just sighed, something that sounded like ‘emotionally stunted bats’, and carefully placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. It was striking, realizing they were not so far in height now. He would never bulk up the way Superman’s clone had, but his body was closer to it than Timothy’s, or Grayson’s.

-I’ll let you in a secret. There’s one easy shortcut, straight to Tim’s heart. Though, maybe ‘straight’ isn’t the right word in this case.

-Shut up.

A smile- Trust me on this one. You’re already using that way, even if you don’t realize it -he clasped his hand tighter, and then released him- Well, gotta go. Showtime is in two days, right? Have to be ready.

He was already taking off, when Damian’s brain to mouth filter seemed to break and he blurted out.

-What is this shortcut?

Still flying, the meta spin in place to face him, moving backwards. His smile was one part wistful, two parts sad.

-The fastest way for Tim to love you? Love him back. He’s a sucker for people giving him the barest scraps of affection, it would be impossible for him to resist someone wholeheartedly loving him.

-----.-----

18 - 23

All fell into place on Damian’s birthday.

The morning, he couldn’t escape his family. Grayson cried, of course, and Father had his constipated-emotionally confused face on. Todd and Brown promised to take him to a bar, careful to make that claim where Pennyworth couldn’t hear them. Him and Cain were in charge of the cake (Cassandra’s latest focus of attention had been bakery, and she wanted to participate), and Damian spent half the day surrounded by their love and support.

As promised, Jon came by mid afternoon to take him to ‘celebrate together’. He asked his family to wait for him awake, even if he came past the time patrol usually started. An odd request, but since he had asked for so little for his birthday, they couldn’t help but agree, Barbara going so far as to have The Birds of Prey ready to cover for them.

It was a long flight to Uruguay, but it was needed. He had taken note on how Drake was, more often than not, found on some seaside location. According to Grayson (and the multiple mission reports he had read on the subject), the tiniest Robin always seemed to like and take comfort on the beach. It had become a small compulsion, probably one he wasn’t even aware of, to stray to places surrounded by water.

The only stop they made, was for Damian to change civies for his suit. The Robin suit.

They found him sitting on the sand overlooking the calm afternoon waters, at La Pedrera Beach. Just where Damian asked him to met, where Kon had undoubtedly brought him a few minutes before.

No one was around, thankfully. The less witnesses, the better.

Jon touched ground softly, smiling at Damian and taking off again, to wait with the older Superboy as planned. His friend’s eyes betrayed no nervousness, but he didn’t need to; Damian was nervous enough for both of them.

Steeling himself, he walked towards the smaller man and stood by his side. Silently, they both watched as the sun slowly sunk into the horizon. In ten more minutes, it’d be completely hidden. Damian wanted for everything to be done before then, as if the beauty of the sunset would counter the pain of what was to follow.

-Okay, Baby Bat, lay it on me. Why ask me to come here, all the way from Italy? I was having a blast, you know, catching those mafias one by one.

Even as he spoke, he didn’t look particularly bothered. Soulless as he was, he had no qualms on showing his displeasure. Right now, though, he looked as satisfied as he ever did since losing his soul. The morning catching criminals, noon with his best friend and afternoon at the beach seemed to have worked like a charm. He was at ease, no longer waiting for Damian to attack him, and when he looked up at him and saw him wearing his colors (for once his more muted pants having a green tint to it, resembling more his predecessor's old costume), surprise gave quick way to trust.

Alfred was right, as always. Robin seemed to be the key past Timothy’s defenses.

-It’s my birthday today -he informed the man, doing his best to not be so stiff- And I want my gift.

A sharp laugh, devoid of feeling but humorous all the same, and Timothy stood, face to face with him, tilting his head to look him into the eye.

-My, my, what a spoiled prince. But whatever, I’m here already, and I already indulged you these last two years, letting you stay around and helping you with cases. What’s one more? I won’t take the soul back, though.

Damian shook his head.

-I don’t intend to return something of yours. I want to give something mine, for you to carry with yourself.

The smirk on his face turned utterly devious, and Timothy’s pale hands found perch on his shoulders.

-Such a daring man you have turned into -slowly, he leaned closer, standing on his tiptoes to reach Damian’s ear- What do you want to give me, baby bat? -his warm breath caressed his face, and he had to shut his eyes tightly when he felt Timothy’s face getting even closer- Maybe a kiss? It’ll be free of charge, even, just because I’m in such a good mood. I’ll still let you have the gift you had in mind, too.

Startled, he held the other man’s hips. The want that pushed viciously against his restrain left him dizzy, but his heart twisted and the pain brought him back to his senses, just before his lips -that he hadn’t even be aware he was parting- touched the other’s.

Carefully, because he didn’t mean any harm and because of how hard it was, he pushed the man away.

-No.

-No? Despite how desperately you clearly want it?

He clenched his fists, before slowly opening his hands and dragging them away from Timothy’s body. He opened his eyes again, looking down at the beautiful face, at those empty eyes. That sealed his decision.

-Not like this. Never like this.

He both regreted and was relieved by his words the moment he had uttered them.

A huff, and slim arms crossed over his chest. It helped a little, once the temptation was over.

-Okay then, boring. What’s this gift you want? Wanna give me a necklace or something? You seem the possessive type.

Damian breathed in, deeply. This was the moment.

-Open your hand, please.

Eyes rolling over the drama, one hand on his hip, he stretched out the other one, palm up.

Bracing himself, Damian retrieved something from his pouch. Before he could second guess himself, he softly placed it on Timothy’s hand.

Deep, rich green. Shinning gold. A sea of those colors, with specks of icy blue floating around.

His own soul.

Timothy’s eyes went to the soul, the one that wasn’t his, and widened a little. Reflexively, he closed his fingers around the orb as much as he could. He was still being moved by the muscle memory, the compulsion of pleasing Robin.

A second later, tears started to endlessly flow, and he was screaming in pain.

-----.----

For months, years, Damian had looked over him and saw two separate pieces of the same puzzle. Soul and body, beautiful on their own, but absolutely breathtaking if he only could put them together.

Now, the full picture stood in front of him. Despite its beauty, there were visible cracks where Damian had forced their ragged ends together, where he had to put his own soul as a filler between them.

Effective as it was, meshing two pieces, despite they belonging to the same puzzle, wasn’t the most gentle way to mend them.

They were bound to break a little, in order to fit.

-What have you done to me?! -demanded Timothy, hand clutching desperately at his chest (the other one still holding the gifted soul core), knees failing him. He would have crashed into the ground, if not for Damian’s firm arm around his waist.

He looked completely miserable, scared and shocked, which sent waves of both guilt and elation through him, because his Beloved was hurting because of him, but he was feeling.

Timothy’s eyes shone hatefully. It was the most beautiful shade of icy blue he had ever seen. Even if the emotion was such a dark one, they weren’t empty anymore.

-What is happening to me?! How?! This isn’t my soul! I shouldn’t be feeling my own emotions! -he shrieked, his entire body shaking, and it was obvious he would have attacked Damian if not so focused on his own pain. Tears fell seemingly without his notice, and flickers of different emotions crossed his face. Guilt, anger, joy, sadness, rage, fondness, pain, guilt, anger, joy… Too quick to properly categorize, too sudden for Timothy to process them. Those were the emotions his soul had been storing this past few years, and it was all crashing down around him.

-I’m well connected to the soul you gave me. As thus, by using my own as a conduit and bonding us together, yours finally has a way to reach out to you, to do its job and make you feel. It’s muted, not as strong as it’d be if you had accepted your own soul back in the first place. I’m afraid that would have killed you.

-I feel like I’m dying now.

There was screaming. Then laughter. Panic and crying. Puking. Timothy’s hand left his chest to tug at his hair, plucking off strand, then going to his naked arms and leaving red indents with his nails. Softly, he took his fingers between his, Timothy’s back to his chest, if only to keep him from hurting himself any longer.

-I can’t breath. I can’t think. Why did you do this to me? I love you. No, I don’t. Fuck, I’m going crazy -Daman tightened his arms around the man, shushing him, rocking back and forth on the ground, wishing desperately he could sooth his pain.

-It’ll pass.

Timothy whined, and cried, and smiled, and puked on the sand.

-I hate you right now. I love you. I’m scared. I hate you again. I/

-I know, love. I know.

When he passed out, still caught between tears and smiles, Damian couldn’t help but feel relief.

#My writing #soul shards #soul shards au #Tim Drake #Damian wayne #damitim #bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #jason todd #Stephanie Brown #Cassandra Cain Wayne #kon el kent #Conner kent #Jon kent #ra's al ghul mentioned #young justice is mentioned

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averagesmw · 4 years ago

Text

DC Girls x Reader- Christmas time! (2/3)

DC Comics (Comics, not the movies)

A/N: This is a small one-shot collection, with the theme being the holidays!

I don’t own any of the images, they’re just so you can identify the characters easier

CHARACTERS:

-HARLEY QUINN AND POISON IVY

- KILLER FROST/ LOUISE LINCOLN

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

Harley and Ivy

If there was one thing you swore to do was protect Gotham City, even on nights like this one, where most spend their time with their loved ones and get together to eat and party

But the moment you walked into the door, the guys at the GCPD stopped you on your tracks, all insisted that you take the day off, especially since you had covered for a few of them in the past. Normally, you wouldn't agree to it, but when the commissioner himself told you to go home, there was not much to do about it

You got a call from Harley inviting you to Pamela's apartment not so far away from yours. She said she wanted you all to get together for the holidays

It would have come as a surprise if she hadn't talked about it for weeks, even arranging a Christmas exchange between the three of you

And so, with your wrapped gift on hand and a couple of drinks, you walked to the building Pamela lived in. It wasn't hard to spot, it had a greenhouse on the roof

You got to the floor she lived in and knocked on the door, all the noise suddenly coming to an end when you did

Then, Harley herself opened the door, her eyes going wide when she saw you

"Y/N!!"

Was all she said before launching herself at you and trying to start a make-out session, but a vine wrapped around her leg and forced her down. Honestly, the sight was kinda funny

From across the room, Pamela stood there with a smirk and her palm raised to control the vine, making it drag Harley to her

It had quite a few plants, but not too many either. There were also festive lights hung across the walls, probably Harley's idea

It was cozy, to say the least

"Now now, give them some space"

Harley pouted, making you chuckle. This same sound made the redhead look at you with a smirk

"And you, you're here early. Not that I'm complaining"

"Yeah, we thought you'd be working your ass off 'till noon!"

Harley added, still on the floor and you placed the bottles you brought along in the counter nearby

"Well, pretty much the entire police force told me to take the day off so...here I am! Hope it's alright with you girls"

"Are you kiddin'? It's even better!"

The clown girl finally got up, sporting a huge grin as she did. Ivy herself walked closer to you as well

"Yeah, it was about time they recognized what you do for the city"

She then placed a hand on your shoulder and slid it to your cheek, her eyes filled with worry too

"I still don't know why you waste yourself in that place"

With a sympathetic smile, you put your hand on hers and reassured her with your voice

"Someone has to keep the people safe. You know, when the bats aren't around, they deserve some happiness too, you know"

The redhead was about to say something when your mutual lover came through talking from the kitchen

"That's sweet and all, but tonight you ain't a cop, sweetie"

Then she showed up with glasses filled with some of the wine you brought, raising them as if they were an award

"You're Y/N, the sweetest guy/gal in town, and who deserves a drink more than anyone else in here!"

Before any more of the liquid spilled into the floor, Pamela's vines snatched the drinks away and placed them back on the kitchen counter

"While I agree with you, Harls, it's way to early to get wasted. Don't you want to be sober for the exchange?"

Harley began arguing with Pamela about it and all you could do was stand there and smile. Their dynamic was so cute, it was so easy to forget their background sometimes

"Y/N, tell Red I can handle it!" Harley's voice stopped your train of thought with the attitude of a child

"Pam's right, Harley. There's still a long night ahead of us"

And you weren't wrong about it. The dinner was just the beginning, there was a bit of a dance party and of course, the gift exchange

Pamela bought you a package containing all the seasons of your favorite series, suggesting that you watch it together some time

You gave Harley a couple of new roller skates, she wouldn't shut up about how amazing they were and she also wouldn't let go of you until her time was up to bring her gift

It was a plant that had traveled all the way from Asia and into Ivy's arms. You had never seen the girl happier for a gift before

Harley suggested that you should start watching your newly acquired series, but after a couple of episodes, she fell asleep on your lap...and Pamela's

Maybe if you hadn't been stroking her hair she wouldn't have fallen asleep so early, but it didn't matter. The redhead asked you if she could talk to you in the balcony, she said it was important

Upon agreeing to talk, Ivy used her vines to gently lift Harley enough for you to stand up from the couch and as the plants took the girl to sleep, you met the retired supervillain at the terrace

It wasn't that cold, but it was certainly more fresh than inside, a bit darker as well

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

"I just wanted some fresh air, to be honest"

You couldn't help but chuckle at this turn of events. Both of you looking over the city from the balcony with a cup of coffee in hand

"Yeah, it's nice to take a break from everything"

She nodded before taking a sip from the cup

"You said it, a hell of a life we got"

As you looked at the city, you were surprised by her scooting closer to you and trying not to blush about it

"But at least we're in good company"

You chuckled while pulling Pamela close to you, making her yelp by this gesture, but she didn't comply either

"Yeah, we are"

Returning the gesture, Pamela held you closer as well, placing the cups of coffee away before doing so

As for the embrace itself, it was soft, silent for a good couple minutes until you heard her giggling

"You know, I didn't notice until now, but Harley placed some mistletoe here"

She pointed at where the small plant was and smirked at you, making you laugh in the process. It was honestly hard to believe it wasn't Pamela's idea

"You got to respect the tradition"

With your hands on her hips and with hers around your neck, you proceeded to do the only logical thing when faced in this situation. Her lips were so soft, it was addicting

...or at least it would have been if a certain someone hadn't shouted from across the apartment

"IT WORKED!!!"

Harley was peeping just around the corner of the room, and her child-like excitement might have come as annoying, but all you could do was laugh about it

You knew that

Pamela did too

And so did Harley herself, but she was the first one to stop laughing to look directly at you

"...but seriously, I want one too"

Louise Lincoln/ Killer Frost

Arkham Asylum was many things: the home of madmen, the place with the worst security on the planet, and so on but if there was something it was not, was heartless, and Louise soon discovered that the moment there was a knock on the door to her cell

Soon enough, a guard opened the door as well as a psychiatrist. The noise was loud enough to wake her up and sit down on her bed, growling at the poor souls who dared wake to end her sleep

"Good morning, Louise, I trust you sleep well?" The psychologist asked with a kind tone

"Until you came here, yeah" Her answer was weak, but just because she had just woken up

She yawned as she turned around to face the staff, rubbing her eyes

"What do you want?"

"Well, today's a special day. You'll be allowed a complete meal and two extra hours"

Louise looked at the staff in disbelief. They had hardly ever been that kind to her, and they just come to her saying this out of the blue

Better not to joke about removing her inhibitor collar now

"What's so special about today anyway?"

"Well...It's Christmas"

The girl felt her eyes go wide with the realization of the date. Being a resident in Arkham does take away any real sense of time and while the date was meaningless to her, it still felt like a big revelation

"But before you can go on, there is still the daily check-up with Dr. L/N"

She tried her best not to smile at the mention of that name, barely able to maintain her facade

"Fine, take me to them"

Without further due, the guard escorted them to the next room. Along the way, however, Louise found a wide array of different scenes that honestly, were not something to forget

Some of the walls were decorated with ribbons or lights, some of the staff were using Santa hats and hell, even some of the inmates were acting less creepy than usual

It almost felt...peaceful

"Alright, we're here"

The voice of the guard brought Louise back to reality, standing just outside of the room where her interviews tend to take place.

Upon being asked to enter, she stepped into the place to find out that even you were infected with some of that "holiday spirit", the Santa hat and the red/white cup with hot chocolate gave it away

Regardless, what caught her attention the most, was your smile

"Hello, Louise! How are you today?"

You invited her to take a seat across the table, which she did (but her gaze remained just as confused)

"I'm...fine, thanks for asking"

You gave her a nod whilst opening her file, taking out your pen to start taking some notes as was the standard procedure

"Before we begin, I just want to tell you, merry Christmas, Louise"

While the tone alone was enough to make anyone smile, this wasn't the case with her, not even close

"Yeah...you too"

Picking up with her reaction, you immediately shifted your topic of discussion

"Hmm...rocky relationship with the holiday?

"I'd rather not talk about it if that's okay"

Her eyes moved to the side, looking down in an attempt to hide the memory. While it was a trauma worth exploring, it would have to be another time

She barely had any joy in this place, it wasn't proper to ruin the only day she could be happy by forcing her to say it

"It's alright, Louise. We'll begin with our session so you can leave early"

She nodded and without further due, you began asking questions about her state, some opinions on different topics to understand her current pattern of thought and later compare it to the previous evaluation

It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, if anything her answers seemed to be improving, but ever so slightly. And so, in a matter of minutes, you had written down her answer to the final question

"Alright, thanks for your cooperation"

"Wait, that's it?"

"Yeah, you can enjoy your day now"

Instead of showing relief or anything of the sort, you saw her gaze sadden. This little hint of emotion would not go unnoticed

You stooped storing away your material to look at her and softly ask:

"Is something wrong?"

"Well, it's kinda hard to explain, it even sounds weird..."

A sympathetic smile formed across your face. To be honest, such a thing sounded even insulting considering the kinds of things you saw on a daily basis

"There is no such thing as weird, Louise, you know you can trust me"

"That's the thing. You're the person I've spent most of my time with in this nuthouse and now that I got a day to myself I..."

A deep sigh left her lips when she found herself unable to continue. You, on the other hand, said nothing, giving her a chance to gather her strength but also, to appreciate the fact that she was actually being honest for a change

"Can...can I ask you a favor?"

She looked back up, straight into your eyes for that sentence, her confidence being nowhere near where it was, but none of the rudeness was there either

This was... something else

"Of course, what can I do for you?"

You answered almost out of pure instinct, unsure of whether saying yes was the right thing to do, but you had never seen Louise act like this before. You had to discover the cause

"Listen, can...Can you stay with me, just for today?"

All the intrigue, the curiousness, and even fear disappeared with that single request

No longer did you have a metahuman criminal whose attitude made treatment difficult

Now you had a person as fragile as anyone else and just as alone that, in that moment, was asking for your help

This moment of silence brought doubt into Louise, she quickly tried to look away, only for a hand to rest above hers to catch her attention. When she returned her gaze to you, she saw you smile

Not the professional, polite kind of gesture, but a genuine one

"Sure, I'll stay with you"

#dc comics #harley quinn #poison ivy #raven #killer frost #reader #christmas

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completelypeccable · 5 years ago

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Two for One Deal

Part 3

/Fear toxin and home

/Barbara knew she loved Dick Grayson, it was a fact of life. But suddenly it wasn’t just him, and that was better than expected./

...

Poison Ivy was just as annoying as the rash. She had grown unnoticed for over a week before the bats discovered her newest plant project, and intervened with all their usual luck. Which is to say, it was the same night that Scarecrow decided to blow his way out of Arkham.

All in all, the night wasn’t as much of a disaster as it could have been. Dick had minor stitches, Jason caused major stitches, and Tim had gotten out of bed for the fifth day in a row. Ivy and Scarecrow were secured and neither had managed to cause much damage, either in terms of structure or a body count.

Cass strong armed Dick out of the cave as soon as she patched him up, the rest following sooner rather than later.

She met Tim for an ambiguous night-morning cuppa, swapping information and enjoying each other’s presence. Barbara had a soft spot for the kid and was glad to see he was on his way to being okay.

“You should have been there,” he smiled. “Ivy was so annoyed to see us there, especially Damian.” He raised his pitch but still growled, in a poor approximation of the subject at hand. “I am an elite assassin and I will not hesitate to bite your ankles!”

Babs laughed and Tim smiled into his cup. “You know, I haven’t figured it out yet, what was Ivy even after?”

“Get this, she made some sort of plant that belched this absolutely nasty gas.”

“What?”

“I mean, Damian was the only one who was hit by it, but he said-“

“Wait, you’re telling me Damian got gassed by a fart flower?”

“Pretty much?”

“Was he okay, is he okay? I don’t think I’ve seen him since patrol.”

“I mean, when it happened we were a bit nervous, but Damian barely reacted at all. He looked more offended than anything. When we got Ivy down, she admitted that she was developing a fear toxin to get back at Scarecrow- which, honestly, fair- but that it was in its very early stages.”

Barbara set down her empty cup. She would make sure to check on the kid before bed, just in case. Tim seemed unconcerned, though, and he’s was there when it happened.

...

Damian had disappeared shortly after patrol, so Barbara assumed he went to sleep, or at least to his room. He wasn’t there when she checked, though. The kitchen was empty, as was the living room, the bathrooms, the other side of Dick’s bed, and every other location she could think to check.

Barbara was wheeling into the Batcave when she noticed the training simulator.

There he was, sweat flinging off his fingers as he fought simulation after simulation with robotic precision. He panted, face red and eyes unfocused. One figure knocked aside his arm and he took several blows to the sternum before delivering a sharp kick to the jaw, pivoting to block the next blow to the ribs. Nonstop movement, beautiful and brutal. The ratio was an absurd 15:1; the machine automatically made the odds unfair, then slowly increased the level of difficulty.

Barbara worked her way to the touch pad outside the simulator door, reviewing his current status and history. She swore silently and grabbed her comm.

She realized belatedly that while she had kept an eye on most family members for the past week or so, this name rarely made the priority list. He hadn’t seemed to care so much, being with them only a short while before the incident. With recent events considered, she wondered if maybe she had underestimated him.

Barbara worked her way to the touch pad outside the simulator door, reviewing his current status and history. She swore silently and grabbed her comm.

“Hey, Babs. Little early to be calling a nighttime vigilante.”

“Sorry Dick. I’m in the cave. It’s, well, it’s Damian.”

“What happened?” She could tell he was up and moving already. He was probably running his hand through his hair, frown crinkled at the corners.

The guilt gnawed slightly at her stomach.

“Tim said he got hit with some experimental gas Ivy was developing.”

“Yeah, the report stated it had no effect. Steph said pretty much the same.” A thunk, Dick leapt off the railing. Barbara pinched her nose and looked at the stats.

“I heard that too, but I think we missed something. He’s in the simulator, been here for a little over four hours. No sign of stopping anytime soon, either.”

“Did he even take a break after patrol?”

Babara shrugged, knowing Dick would just know despite not seeing it. Just like she knew how much he was beating himself up for heading straight to bed after the stitches. She hated to fuel the fire, but he would want to know.

“Looks like he was here for the past few nights, too.”

“Why the-“

“Today and most of the week, he started with an elevated heart rate and irregular breathing. Now it’s back to the same, but he’s probably well past exhausted at this point.”

Dick swore quietly, and she echoed the sentiment.

While they didn’t know exactly what was rubbing through his head, Barbara knew the kid likely wasn’t thinking rationally. He was new to it all, too, not knowing that this odd family understood and took care of each other. Neither nightmares nor panic attacks were a personal problem her and they could be self destructive when treated like they were.

And unreported fear toxin? That was no joke.

“Thanks for calling.”

“Anytime.”

Barbara went to the Batcomputer, already pulling up multiple files on gang activity from the past week. No one had gone out as Batman yet, and some criminals were starting to take notice. However, they always act a little less cocky when Red Hood or Black Bat shows up to the operation ready to beat their faces in.

And from here she could see the rest of the Batcave without being too in the way.

It took less than a minute for Dick to be stepping out of the elevator, slightly frazzled and bed-headed, still dressed only in flannel pajama pants. He sent a slight wave to Barbara. What a pretty goof. He was going to be cold down here.

She heard him shuffle toward the simulator, loud and lacking his usual grace and control. He was giving the kid plenty of warning.

Barbara knew she made the right call. Even though she was worried, she wasn’t the one the kid needed.

“Hey, Dami,” he called. “You’ve been at this for a while.”

’Dami’ didn’t answer, using his katanas to fight opponents from opposite sides.

“You need to take a break, Damian.”

Barbara felt the glare from across the room.

Dick sighed, typing in the override code and shutting down the simulation.

The door opened and Damian stood with his back to them, panting, swords dipping toward the floor. He sheathed his katanas and turned in one move, stalking toward where Dick waited with crossed arms.

“I do not need to be monitored like some child!”

Rage boy returns, Barbara thought sardonically. Dick looked relaxed, voice smooth and calm, but the lack of movement was the dead giveaway. He was really worried.

“If you go at a pace like this, you are going to hurt yourself. Those simulations don’t hold back.”

“My performance was more than adequate!”

“You need to rest.”

“Do not order me about!”

Dick watched him, stance wide and low, arms to the side.

“I’m not here to fight you, Damian,” he sighed.

Damian’s face softened slightly in confusion, enough so the fear in his round eyes flickered into view. Oh man, they should have been more concerned hours ago.

“You need to rest, just like all of us do. We don’t want you to get hurt.”

He stuttered back a step before tightening his fists.

“What do you care?” He asked, quiet and tight. “I am not your concern.”

This was the real problem, wasn’t it?

Dick‘s emotions were always easy to read. His care was clear, and the full force of his love could be disorienting in its strength. These words crushed him.

This was just a kid, Barbara thought. He stood there, hands shaking, breaths quickly heaving in and out of his nose. Not a demon, not an assassin. Just a scared kid.

Dick took a step forward, hunching his shoulders and becoming as small as a giant could be. He knelt down in front of Damian, who couldn’t decide how to feel, eyebrows twitching together and apart. Guarded and wounded, armed to the teeth. Melting, just like they all did.

“You have no reason to keep me here,” the uncertainty was in the softness, how he stood still, glancing from Dick’s eyes to his shoulders. He looked so tired, now that the anger faded.

Dick sat back on his knees, blue eyes level with green.

“You are going to send for Mother, are you not?”

“Do you want me to?”

Damian’s hands shook a little faster. Dick reached forward and he jerked his head to the floor.

“You don’t have to go. You can stay.”

“My father is dead, Grayson.” If the voice belonged to anyone else, Barbara would have sworn they were crying.

The dripping in the caves around them echoed, counting the stretching silence.

“Damian, bud, look at me.” Dick slowly brought a hand to his round cheek, tilting it to face him.

“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, okay?”

Damian pressed into his hand, trembling head to toe.

“I do not want to go back,” he whispered, cracking. The words tumbled out. “I do not want to kill for them. Mother- she-“

“Sh, shh, come here,” Dick tugged gently and wrapped him tight against his chest. Barbara realized belatedly that he was crying, silent tears dripping down his face. No breathing or sound gave it away, just the anguish on Dick’s face, where he mirrored the action. He spoke softly, rubbing his hand in circles on the kid’s bony back.

“You don’t have to go back to the League. You can stay here-“

“Where?”

Barbara felt her heart pull. His voice was small, squeaky. A child’s.

Dick kissed his forehead. “With me, silly.”

“With you?”

“Of course,” he murmured, Damian’s nose pressed into his neck. He ran his thumb along the scruffy base of his head. “You’ll always have a place with me.”

Damian’s breath hitched once and Dick brought him fully onto his lap, squeezing him tight between his arms.

The drips continued and Dick held the boy in the echoes and the silence, alone and together.

Damian’s breathing slowly evened out, and Dick stood, shifting to cradle him securely.

He stood there a moment, eyes closed and feeling the solid weight of gravity center him in a new balance.

Barbara met him where the ledge jutted out and they were nearly eye to eye.

“You’re sure about this.” It wasn’t a question. She knew him well enough to know.

“Been for a while now,” he whispered, a crooked smile on his tear stained face.

She reached out, wiping the cold tracks with her knuckles. She kissed both their cheeks.

She smiled as Damian wriggled his face into Dick’s shoulder, deep in dreamless asleep.

“Alright,” Barbara whispered.

And it would be. Because this was her Richard Grayson. And he was good, overflowing with the steady love that built unbreakable things. She trusted him like no one else, and knew his judgement was sound if not always foolproof. She was the head, he was the heart, both know their own. He looked in her eyes, and she warmed at the strength of it.

As she closed her eyes and leaned against him, she could feel the thick of it all pooling at their feet and giving mass to this something. Always this something. An invisible binding, halfway a promise, halfway a vow. She saw Damian’s face twitch just slightly, fingers brushing her hair. Dick’s heartbeat matched her own, and he rested his head against their two.

“Alright.”

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Comments are always appreciated, if you made it to the bottom :)

#barbara gordon #dick grayson #damian wayne #dickbabs for the wholesome family #dickbabs #tim drake #but briefly #dick grayson is a good day okAy (cry)

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theabominableblogger · 7 years ago

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My Reaction to “Gotham” S1E11

Yeah, some of these reactions aren’t gonna be posted in chronological order because A) I’m wrapping up my school year so there’s a lot of homework to be done still and B) I have limited time so bear with me here.

AN: I managed to record my reactions to this episode and hopefully I can transcribe what I said into this post.

Is this a play?

*yells at one of the performers for incorrectly pronouncing “vessel”*

Is this supposed to be Maxie Zeus?

This has to be Maxie Zeus because there’s lightning in the background...

He’s [the main performer] a good singer...

*One of the inmates attacks the performers* Oooh OK, that’s not good!

Oh my gosh, the old fashion nurse outfits!

Why are they blaming it on him [Jim]?!?

“Officer Gordon is responsible for security on this wing, a task he seems unable to manage.” Dude, give him some slack!

“Any more incidents and I'll have you placed on the remedial duty roster.” Dude.

“Think you can't fall any further? Think again.“ *voice cracking* Dude, give him some slack! C’mon!

Lee!

“He’s [the inmate] fine. He’s just sleeping off his meds.” “I’m [the inmate] trying. Get a room you guys!” Haha!

Behold the start of a relationship that’s probably gonna go downhill in about... a season and a half.

[Selina] You’re sleeping underneath a staircase while it’s raining? C’mon.

C’mon, she [Ivy] needs help.

*Selina helps Ivy up* There you go.

*Selina and Ivy decide to squat in Jim’s apartment* Ohhhh, OK.

JIm’s apartment is BIG.

Do Barbara’s parents come from money or something? Are they RICH?

Seriously, they need to put a brace on Oswald so that his leg could get fixed.

“Inflation is a bitch.” It is.

*The cops knock out Cobblepot* Ohh!

I like the different variants of the opening theme. Like this one is a sad one with the slower notes...

“These are electrode wounds.“ That’s what I thought. With one on each side of the temple, it’s bilateral (so like how you see every stereotypical electroshock therapy treatment happen in media)

That’s a 200 year old building? Really? Didn’t they say they were gonna work on renovating it [Arkham Asylum]?

Frogman? Was he a really obscure comic book villain back in the day or what?

AN: Get the hell outta here, he was...

Isn’t there a security camera in every wing though in Arkham?

“Really? You don't think I [Fish] could run the family?” “I don't know, why not? Women's lib and all that. But fair play, Jimmy is next in line.“ Doesn’t Falcone has sons?

Yeah there’s Alberto and Mario and he also has Sofia.

Ohhhhh MY GOD, IT’S ALASTAIR FROM SUPERNATURAL!

Oh my God, it’s the same actor [Christopher Heyerdahl]!

“Lying? Aaron never lies, Mr. Gordon. He doesn't have the concept. Poor, peaceful soul that he is.” He killed his family with an ax. Isn't that what you did, Aaron?” “Never harmed a fly before or since.” ... that nurse is a fantastic judge of character. Not.

[Selina perches over the side of a building] *whispers* That’s gonna be Bruce’s job next!

There’s a lot of Dutch angles in this episode for some reason

That pan over of Arkham looks like something straight out of the video game. That’s cool!

OK, it has to be Alastair [Gruber]...

Are we bringing in the Electrocutioner?!?

How does no one hear that [the screams of the next victim]?!?

“One man ends up a vegetable while the other recites Shakespeare on a loop.“ What Shakespeare play is that? Is that “The Tempest?”

AN: Yes

“You [JIm] want me [Dr. Lang] to call the police!” “No. I already called them.“ Oh my God, Jim!

“Have you [Barbara] spoken to Jim recently?” “Why would I? Renee, you don't have to be jealous of Jim. I’m over him.” Dude!

[Barbara] You can’t even find your purse?!?

Third degree assault? That’s a thing?

Ohhh, what’s going on?

Oh, is Butch gonna turn on Fish?

I actually do like this sense of honor and respect that other members of different Italian mobs have toward each other. Also, they’re very accepting of each other and their differences (even though they’ll strike out at each other behind each other’s backs). It’s this weird nicety that occurs and I like it, even though some of it probably doesn’t happen in real life.

“It's soothing... like a bonsai tree.“ BONSAI!!!

BONSAI!!!

“What’s a bonsai tree?” Have you not seen “The Karate Kid?” Seriously!

Is Butch gonna turn? That’ll be interesting.

That’s his [JIm] office?!?

Oh no, they turned the stage in the rec center into his office, OK.

The actress playing the nurse looks like the same lady who played Frenchie in “Grease”

Oh wait, is she [Nurse Dorothy] the one? No..... really?

*cups hands around mouth* You need backup!

*Dorothy lets all the inmates loose* Ohh snaaaappp!

Craaaaaap...

Or is she [Dorothy] in cahoots with Alastair [Gruber] there?!?

*Dorothy gets trampled to death by the inmates* Oh craaaappp...

*Ivy pretends to be a “friend” of Jim’s over the phone with Barbara* Ivy, you... oh my GOD!

“When Dorothy Duncan was a 16 year-old nursing student she killed five kids with poison candy. For homework, she said.“ Oh.

“Do you [Oswald] know what hubris is?” Pride.

“Holy mother, you [Oswald] stink!” Haha!

So Penguin’s like a triple agent at this point, right?

IT WAS HIM [Gruber]! He’s the Electrocutioner!

“Hello, Dr. Lang.” Hooo.....

If Gruber’s first name is Hans, I’m gonna yell.

“Sorry I had to run. I very much wanted to enjoy a proper chat with you before I left but that's show business. I've been practicing my skills on these sad creatures for a while now. Electricity is an amazing thing. It can work wonders. Nurse Dorothy was an early success. This last time, I think I finally got one just right. Bravo to me. But time to go. It was nice to meet you, Jim. I hope to see you around. All the best, Jack Gruber.“

That was awesome! And the music playing over it!

*silently jams out to “In the Still of the Night” by the White Satins*

Ohh, so he [Butch] is gonna betray Fish!

*Butch shoots and kills JImmy* NoOOO-OH MY GOD

Color grading! All the blue!

*silently jams out to “It’s All In The Game” by Tommy Edwards*

#rogues' gallery #Gotham #FOX #the blogger reacts #looked at the stars and considered a reaction #jim gordon #lee tompkins #arkham asylum #ivy pepper #barbara kean #fish mooney #butch gilzean #christopher heyerdahl #shakespeare #the tempest

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trendingnewsb · 7 years ago

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5 Superhero Movies That Are Only Worth It For One Scene

Bad superhero films are a treasure. Not only does one make you disappointed with Hollywood for creating a bad movie, but it also makes you doubly frustrated because they’re messing up something that you know is good in comic book form. However, we shouldn’t write off a bad superhero movie immediately. Upon closer examination, these terrible films can contain little glimpses of promise — little glimpses that make you say “This might be a secret masterpiece.” Or at least, “This doesn’t suck every poop.”

Batman & Robin — The Criminal Property Locker

In the annals of bad superhero films, Batman & Robin stands alone. It isn’t a “Well, maybe it’s not THAT bad” film like Superman Returns or Spider-Man 3. It isn’t a “I’ll forget the plot of this before I even leave the theater” film like X-Men: The Last Stand or Daredevil. It isn’t a “That’s a damn shame” film like Superman IV: The Quest For Peace or Robocop 2. And it isn’t a “If there is a God, they wouldn’t let this happen” film like Catwoman or Spawn. Instead, it’s a film that somehow gets both more amazingly terrible and more inexplicably enjoyable with time. I hate it and I love it in equal measure, and years after I’m dead, researchers will discover my skeleton clinging to a VHS copy of it, like Quasimodo and Esmeralda at the end of Hunchback Of Notre Dame.

But the movie does have one extremely cool split second. Now, there is a well-known Easter egg in Batman & Robin: When Bane and Poison Ivy are breaking Mr. Freeze out of Arkham Asylum, you get a glimpse of the “Criminal Property Locker.” And in the locker are the costumes of the Riddler and Two-Face from Batman Forever. That’s kind of neat — though since Two-Face died by falling into a spiky underwater pit, it does imply that some poor Arkham intern had to dry-clean and sew his fucking suit back together.

Warner Bros.