#reverse power

[artfoxtail]

Old idea about reversed powers.

Amy Dallon aka Courage. Part II

[kokodrawings]

Role reversal AU: Naruto as the ambassador of the shinobi nations

[sreppub]

i dont quite remember my reverse robins au details but i wanted to draw them anyway

[paintedcrows]

It is imperative to me that Bill and Stan do torrid Duchess Approves roleplay and argue about character motivations

[lijojo]

genshin sugar daddies: when they finally meet each other

you have seven sugar daddies: one for each day of the week. and although it can get overwhelming at times, you’ve done well to keep each and every relationship relatively separate, no matter how demanding of your attention they are. well, that all goes to shit when they’re all attending the same fucking party.  

tw: nsfw, dark content

you’re fucked. 

“is something wrong, dear?” ayato inquires. you do your best to put on your prettiest smile, smooth down your dress like nothing’s wrong, and squeeze his hand to reassure him that everything is a-okay.

“i’m fine. feeling a bit under the weather, is all.” 

everything is not a-okay. underneath your jewel-encrusted gown you are trembling. kaeya shouldn’t even be here, you think. but there he is, chatting up some local politician that ayato had introduced you to earlier. it takes everything in you not to suggest leaving the gala when you had just arrived an hour ago.

ayato smiles, pressing a chaste kiss between your brows. “alright.”

home. just a couple weeks ago, ayato has begun to change his vocabulary. he says ‘ours’ instead of ‘my’ and ‘we’ instead of ‘me.’ every time you take off your new diamond-encrusted ring, he gives you a look you can’t stomach and glides it back onto your finger whenever he gets the chance. he’ll kiss you sweetly like nothing’s wrong but from the way his hand lingers on your ring finger says otherwise. 

“i wish i could take you home right now,” ayato laments, taking your hand in his and slowly caressing the back of your knuckles like a lover would. “but you know how things are. publicity is half of the job.”

that’s why we entered this kind of relationship in the first place. you purse your lips. it was supposed to be contractual, nothing more.

ayato’s whispers of sweet-nothings into your ear contrasts your thoughts. he tells you how beautiful you look, how your cerulean gown matches his suit, about how he’ll take it off when you get back, all the while he’s navigating you through the crowds of people. his hand rests gently on the small of your back, as if it was his way of soothing you. 

you’re fine, you tell yourself. there’s too many people here. kaeya won’t see you. you dread the idea of locking eyes with him, the dark scowl that’d spread on his lips, if you had the misfortune of seeing him again tonight. he might’ve known that you had other clients, but if he met them in person, you’re sure you’d never hear the end of it. 

“are you sure you’re fine?” ayato asks softly. he brushes a stray strand of hair away form your face. he presses his lips to your cheek like it belongs there.

a frank ‘no,’ dances on the tip of your tongue. your survival instincts are screaming at you, begging you to call off this entire thing. you want to go home. you want to tell him no, you’re not fine. but if you do, ayato would most likely take you home. not your home. but home. and as much as you wanted to escape, you knew being in a room alone with this man who stared at you as if you were is one and only was even worse. 

so you don’t. you do what you practiced. you stare into this man’s eyes and smile like you mean it. you kiss him on the lips, to which he reciprocates eagerly, and tell him, “i told you, i’m okay.” 

the way ayato smiles is devious. he smoothly hooks his hand around your waist and guides you to the center of the ballroom. try as you might, you can feel the envious gazes burning into your skin. towards you or ayato, you’re not sure, but you don’t want to think about it further.

ayato, it seems, doesn’t mind. his hold on you becomes all the more tighter, confident.  

the two of you are once again talking to one of ayato’s associates. you’ve seen this man at other social events here and there, but you’ve never talked to him personally. 

you shudder at the way he eyes you up. 

“oh, you must be the rumored miss ayato seemingly can’t stop talking about,” the man surmises. he stares into his glass of wine before taking a greedy gulp. “ayato has never talked about a woman so fondly, so i figured you must’ve been really special. now that i’ve finally been introduced to you, i can see i was right.”

you open your mouth to retort, but ayato beats you to it. 

his nails are practically digging into your bodice. “yes, this is my fiance,” he hisses. you don’t appreciate how much emphasis he puts into his words. you almost want to correct him, but you don’t, because this is what you’re paid for: to ward off potential marriage proposals. so sure, you’ll let this one slide, as long as he says nothing about it in private.

the man, seemingly oblivious to ayato’s rising anger, smiles. “ah, so you’ve finally put a ring on it? what a pity.” 

“i can hardly say it’s a pity,” ayato mutters. “we’ve been together for a very long time, it was only a matter of time. if anything, it seems as if you’re trying to make a pass.” 

ayato’s associate jumps at his tone. “oh,  no, that wasn’t my intention...”

his words start to melt into the background noise, the music, the meaningless chatter. you smile awkwardly, knowing that if you tried to handle things yourself ayato would only take over for you. so instead, you stand there and look pretty, trying to not draw any more attention than you should. 

instead, you opt to observe the room. between the crowds of mingling elites, you’re desperate to find out where kaeya had gone. was he close? was he far? did he leave? did he see you? 

your stomach flips at the mere thought. at the very beginning, kaeya was fun. casual. he was friendly but not invasive. he’d flirt with you and mean it, but you knew his attraction to you didn’t extend beyond the bedroom. at least, that’s what you thought. before you knew it, kaeya had grown so attached to you it were as if you were his second heart, as if he wanted to meld you into his skin and whisper all of his thoughts and praises. 

if he discovered you here with someone else, you don’t know what would happen. 

in the midst of your discreet search, you catch a familiar glimpse of someone else in the crowd. you usually see him in his work attire when it’s designated day, but today he’s donned on an emerald suit, decorated with gold embellishments.

your heart drops to the pit of your stomach when alhaitham’s gaze sweeps across the crowd, as if he’s looking for something too. to his right, tighnari matches his pace. they seem to be in some sort of conversation, mumbling to each other over glasses of champagne as the crowd moves forward.  they live on the opposite side of the city. what are they doing here? you were so sure that this event would only be attend by those with business in the inazuma district. what went wrong? 

you’re just about to look away when it happens. 

alhaitham looks back.

it’s like a bucket of ice has been poured over you. 

his stare goes from surprise, to confusion, to realization, to absolute anger.

you don’t forget how ayato’s hand rests comfortably on your waist. alhaitham’s eyes seemed to be pinned there, like he’s undressing you with his eyes, burning holes into every pore of ayato’s hand. 

you’re caught like a deer in headlights. tightnari’s trying to talk to him, but alhaitham ignores him entirely. his entire focus, his entire being, is locked onto you. you don’t know what to do at this point.

ayato’s tight grip loosens. without even realizing it you’re being guided away from the conversation. 

“i’m so sorry about that,” ayato murmurs as he wraps both hands around your waist. he presses into you, his nose finding its way inbetween your neck and your shoulder. 

you’re entire body freezes as alhaitham’s gaze drags up your hips to your neck. for a second, his eyes catch yours and he gives you this look as if to say, i’m going to kill him. 

“ayato, we’re in public,” you say as you gently press onto his shoulders. you hope that he can’t feel the way your fingers tremble.

“let them see,” he replies with a breathy exhale. “that way, no one ever tries anything with you again. besides, is it wrong for two lovers to express their love in public? especially so soon after being engaged.”

this is wrong. the ayato you knew when you first met didn’t like drawing attention to himself. he’d rather sit in the shadows and people watch rather than become the spectacle himself. and of all things, at the worst time. 

you feel as if ayato is unknowingly digging your grave. every time ayato moves so much as a milimeter closer to you, you can see alhaitham’s jaw clench just a little tighter. 

at this point, tighnari has caught on to what alhaitham has been so distracted by. tighnari doesn’t hesitate to size you up. the both of you. for a moment, his ears pull back. he’s threatened. 

“my dear?”

you’re attention whips back to ayato. his gaze is almost intense as alhaitham’s and tighnari’s. it’s full of love, adoration, and obsession. he looks at you like you’re the one for him. that he had just discovered you two were soulmates. but you’re not. 

you smile, even though you feel like turning your stomach inside out. you have to pretend that you’re fine. and you’re good at that, right? you’re good at pretending to be what these men want, which is convenient, emotionally available, and loving. even though you’re entire world, everything you’ve worked so hard to maintain, is falling apart right this moment, you will smile. because that’s your job, isn’t it? you’re good at giving what your customers need. you’re good at your job.

so you keep your voice nice and light, even though you’re words are anything but what ayato wants to hear. “but we aren’t engaged, though.” 

he hums, nuzzling deeper into your skin. “but we are, aren’t we? my ring is on your finger.” his fingers thrum against your hips. “did you know? my name’s engraved on the inside.”

as much as ayato’s words alarm you, your entire focus is locked onto alhaitham and tighnari, who look livid. their mouths are moving. the two of them are speaking to each other, and it kills you not to know what they’re saying. 

just before you can get away from ayato, they make their way towards you. 

their pace is slow, but intentional. their gazes don’t dare pry away from you.  

and just like that, it all becomes too much. 

“i have to go to the bathroom,” you blurt out. with some kind of newfound adrenaline, you manage to push ayato off of you. he gives you a look of hurt, confusion, anger, and absolute shock. “i’ll be right back.”

ayato’s clearly confused, but as he attempts to reach out to you, you blend yourself within the throng of people. without looking back, you disappear into the crowd, leaving ayato all by his lonesome. 

you’re quick to push through the crowds, but careful to avoid the other ticking time bombs in the room. you feel as if you’re being chased. and in reality, you are. you zigzag through different conversations, hoping to miraculously become invisible. and yet, despite your absolute care, you somehow step on your own minefield. 

you hear the sound of your name first.

you see him second. 

childe’s standing there, in a suit you’ve never seen him wear before. 

is everyone at this party? 

“i thought it was you, looking so pretty. are you all dressed for me?” 

you both know what the answer is, and yet you don’t say anything. 

childe chuckles. “why do you look so scared? you look like you’ve just been caught cheating.” 

he slowly slides his hand down your arm, almost sensually. his fingers interlock with yours before he’s swinging it playfully, but you know his mood is anything but. he’s staring at your interlocking hands so intently. you look down to realize that he’s staring at the ring ayato put on your finger. 

shit. 

childe doesn’t say anything. he simply kisses your hand all prince-like, his gaze meeting yours. he’s so calm it’s disturbing. 

“whoever got this for you has bad taste. i bet he just chose whatever ring had the biggest jewel, right?” he plays with your fingers dismissively, gentlely drawing patterns around your ring finger. “you always told me i couldn’t buy you a ring, and yet this fucker can. what’s so different? i bet he just thinks whatever is biggest is the prettiest. but truth is, it’ll never be pretty. it’ll never be my special kind of pretty, isn’t that right, girlie?” 

you’re tempted to curl into yourself, but you hold your ground. 

“let go, childe.”

“and let you run away from me to some other man who doesn’t know you as well as i do? hmm? he uses his hold on your hand as leverage to pull you closer to him. his other hand wraps itself around your torso, pressing you into him. you struggle to escape, but you can’t. to anyone else, you two would’ve looked to be in a lover’s embrace. he caresses your cheek, as if appraising you. “maybe i should leave my own mark on you. maybe that’ll show everyone who you really belong to.”

you wriggle in his grasp. “childe, i’m serious. stop—”

“hmm, at least your next is exposed. yes… i think a hickey here would be nice—”

“childe! what are you up to this time?” 

childe immediately pulls away to reveal a man smiling amicably at the two of you. a pair of silver frames rest on his nose.

“ah, pantalone.” childe replies. “it’s nothing.”

you don’t hesitate to use this opportunity to escape. the moment you can, you whisk yourself away. you don’t care for niceties at this point. instead, you find refuge in the ladies’ restroom. 

you lock yourself in one of the stalls, grateful that no one else is in there. with no one around to stare, observe, or judge you, you close the toilet seat and plop onto it unceremoniously with your head in your hands. 

at this point, everything is spinning. your heart is thumping at thousands of miles per minute, and you’re trying to get a grip on reality. you think about the bills you need to pay, your overwhelming debt, and the life that rests on your hands. you think about all the things you need to do, and all the things you can’t do, not by yourself.

you need money to survive. 

once you’ve properly calmed down, you take a deep breath and open the door. you look at yourself in the mirror, taking note of all the little details in your makeup and your outfit, all of which were made by ayato, for ayato. all dressed in light blues, you look like you belong to the kamisato clan. 

you look like ayato’s wife.

“you look wonderful in blue.”

you don’t have the time to turn before he’s on you. 

if you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought that kaeya had returned to his old self. he’s kissing you like he hates the space between you. his mouth is hot and tastes of alcohol. his hands find their place on your hips like it’s natural. 

you can’t breathe, with the way he kisses you. 

underneath his heated movements, there’s a underlying desperation. like kaeya somehow needs to overdose on your every breath to survive. his hands are all over you, rumpling the dress you tried so hard to smooth out. 

he pushes the two of you into one of the open stalls, smoothly locking it behind him. you’re pressed against the bathroom door, a hardness pressing into your abdomen.

“kaeya—” 

your words are immediately swallowed up by his mouth. he can’t be bothered to speak to you. you can feel how angry he his with his fingers dig into your skin. he just wants to kiss you senseless, is that so wrong?

his tongue runs over yours. he’s exploring your mouth like it’s a treasure trove. as if this his first time ever kissing you and he wants to learn what makes you tick. 

but really, you can’t breathe. 

“kaeya—”

he pulls away from you like it’s the most painful thing he’s done. and it’s then you meet his eyes for the first time that night. his gaze is vulnerable. it’s obsessive, and needy, and desperate, and too, too much. too emotional. it’s not what you signed up for, and it’s not what he promised you. 

but he doesn’t care about that right now. he nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your scent like it’s his drug. 

“i saw you. with him.” 

“who?” comes out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. 

“i saw you the moment you got here,” kaeya replies, ignoring your question. “do you know how hurt i felt? how much i wanted to just strangle him? i could do it, you know. i could stage it like it was an accident. or make it look like he was a danger to the people. no one would know.”

you knew kaeya was a ticking time bomb, but you’ve never seen him like this. 

he wraps himself around you and pulls you close, resting your head on his chest. you can hear how fast his heart is pounding. “you’d still love me, if i did that, right? you know everything about me, everything no one else knows. only you could love me.”

there’s a crazed look to him. he’s so out of it, you’re hesitant to touch him. his embrace steals the breathe out of your lungs, quite literally. he holds onto you like if he let up for just a second you’d disappear into thin air. 

“kaeya—”

he kisses you again, a small moan leaving his lips. “say my name again, please. say it like it’s yours. i’m all yours.”

you run your hand through his hair and pull, but he only groans in response. you can feel his hard-on grinding into you. a whimper escapes you as he brushes against your clit through the dress.

if it’s not his name, kaeya’s bent on not letting you speak. his kisses keep getting more insistent, more greedy. 

you run your hand through his hair and give it a hard tug.

“aagh—just like that.”

you’re out of options at this point. kaeya won’t pull away, so eager to breathe you in. 

kaeya’s too lost in you to notice your hand blindly grabbing at the bathroom’s lock. when the door opens, it creates enough momentum to seperate the two of you. kaeya’s taken off guard, so you take the chance to bolt it out of there and escape back into the crowd.

you just want to run away from everything. from these disastrous men. from these claustrophobic parties. from this entire situation. from all your problems. your debt. from small, tiny hospital rooms and endless nights praying for a miracle—

you don’t care what you look like at this point. you don’t care that your dress is in disarray, that tears are probably streaking down your face, or that you’re so out of breath you’re gulping down air like it’s water. 

fuck this. 

fuck that.

fuck everything.

you’re so focused on escaping you bump shoulders with a stranger. quite roughly, at that. 

diluc looks surprised. he appraises you concerningly, but you can’t stomach it. his gaze is so full of love and adoration and possessiveness you think you’re going to hurl. 

you don’t even say anything. when you see kaeya chasing after you, you book it. you don’t even text ayato you’re leaving. you just…disappear.

the hospital room’s quiet. it always is. save for the occasional nurse, no one else is here, save for the patient. 

in a way, this room is your escape.

you’re still in ayato’s dress. it’s a bit dirty from tonight’s events, a bit ruffled. you look like a victim in those crime TV shows with a shock blanket. 

right now, you’re curled up on the sofa, staring into nothingness. you don’t want to think of anything right now. there’s no point in saying anything. you know she won’t say anything back. 

what would she say if she were here right now? 

she’d scold you, for sure. she’d nag you for how messy your apartment was. how you dropped out of college when you promised her you’d pursue your dream. how you haven’t once visited your parents’ grave. how you sold your mind, body, and soul just for some few bucks. 

you crumble at the thought. oh, how much money it took to keep her alive. to hide the both of you away from them. to keep sniffing dogs off your trail. you could always move away, hop from place to place. but if you did, what would you do about her? 

your sister was like a second mother to you. how could you abandon her like that? 

the door opens so abruptly, you practically jump out of your skin. 

“kazu?”

“i knew you’d be here.”

somewhere down the line, you heard that kazuha had descended from a long line of honorable samurais. seeing him like this, appearing out of thin air as if he was there all along, you thought it could be true.

kazuha enters the room like a soft gentle breeze, like it’s a suggestion. 

you’re speechless. 

he sits next to you on the couch and presses the side of your head to lean onto his shoulder. the two of you look at your comatosed sister together, as if if you stared hard enough, she’d finally wake up. 

“it’s going to be okay,” kazuha whispers.

“how did you know i was here?”

“what do you mean?” he turns to kiss the crown of your head so tenderly. “i’ll always be there for you, don’t you know that?”

your blood runs cold. you pull away to look at him. “kazuha, i never told you where i was. no one knows about this hospital.”

he looks at you earnestly, as if you don’t know any better and he adores it.

“but i do,” he says. 

[chami-2024]

FEMALE NEW WORLD ORDER 💋

Women are supreme - ගහැණුන් උත්තරීතරයි

https://t.me/femalenewworldorder

https://t.me/fnwochatgroup

[emacrow]

Bruce only left Damian alone for 10 minutes during a short visit to the charity group called the Anti-GIW in amity park. Only damian didn't leave empty handed.

He was gifted a crapton of new information about ghosts, or infinite realm like beings whom are being hunted due to their ectoplasm/lararus power energy as battery because the GIW believes they are not sentient which they are if they can speak English.

He just holding a oversized and very full folder of info given to him as he sat back in the limo after gifting a large sum of money to support this group until he can go home and bring the Justice League in.

Damien is quiet in the limo, obviously interested in a very large book call the history of Ghost mystical creatures and you that he was reading. Bruce just sighed a bit as he goes to read folder one Called The day where it all happened.

Unknownly to Bruce, Damian has a baby in his lap, after he has wish for that he wasn't the youngest child anymore when his Father told him to not stray away when he was busy listening to the anti-GIW fanatics... only for a black hair, blue eyes diaper wearing baby to poof in his arm.

At that exact moment, When Desiree was fighting with Danny from above only to sense a wish being active did a clever idea to avoid Soup time and give Danny a vacation as Danny disappeared only to look up confused staring into the Green eyes of Damian Wayne.

[jollyparaphernalia]

I like to think no matter the circumstances or Siffrin's role, Isabeau is always a LITTLE down-bad for the little fella. Even when they're dumping his inner secrets out on the ground for everyone to see.

I don't think you can fix this guy, Isabeau

[technically-human]

After the confession, they still had to run.

[germesthegenie]

Was looking into Breaker triggers (to try and get a better understanding of Wanton and Annex) and came across this comment from Wildbow with perhaps the funniest possible trigger I’ve seen for a cape

Game so spectacularly bad that you trigger from somehow actually managing to pull the person you like 😭. How do you even manage that, how do you even explain that??

[martanis]

⊹₊⟡ Galadriel + Elrond, Arondir and Gil-galad in The Rings of Power ♡ 2.08 "Shadow and Flame"

[flamingpudding]

You need an adult. - I am an adult!

Danny in human age is an adult. He was a 24 years old adult that only recently started working in the Arospace Department of Wayne Enterprise. Human wise he was by all means an adult, with the paper trail to support it.

The only problem was. His ghost form.

Despite his human side having aged just fine and giving him a fine, build like a Brickhouse, body that came close to Dan's hulking ghost form. His ghost side was still stuck on looking like his fourteen years old self, small and build like a twig. Pandora, Frostbite and Clockwork had tried teaching him how to manipulate his own ectoplasm so he can finally adjust his ghost looks. But so far... that was a skill he has yet to master successfully.

Now, usually, that wouldn't be a problem. But considering he only recently found out two of his bosses also worked with the Justice League who happened to know him as Phantom, it spelled problems.

Because the Justice League was convinced he was a forever 14 years old dead ghost hero who is using one of his many powers to appear like a human adult. He only went human on them like twice for undercover missions. He saw no problem in them knowing about his human half. Ancients all his rogues and the entirety of the Infinite Realms knew of it already anyway.

But you make one to many jokes about deadly situations or act just a bit to childish one to many times with them and you are seen as child forever! Go figure why Danny had so many problems with authority figures is whole life.

They were the once thinking his human half was just another power! He never said it was!

And now here he was, sitting in the office of one of his bosses. Faced with the two of them trying to clear up the misunderstanding of a decade. Ancients they are convinced his paper trail is fake just because Phantom had Tucker on his team. A team that had already established their talents years ago, when they worked with the JL for the first time.

Wait.... why was Bruce Wayne pulling out adoption papers?

I dont need an adult! I am an adult!

[pi-slices]

Power Grid.

[mydearestbeloved]

So...

I'm still having a writer's block on Trial Player AU and I'm stressed out from studying for my upcoming exam on Monday, so I'm thinking of taking a short break by writing something different...

Anyone interested in reading my idea of an Isekaid!Demon(?)!Reader x Saja Boys with a side of Huntrix ?

Where (Name) is: a digruntled manager (read: babysitter) and is basically like a vampire around the Saja Boys; kind of a menace toward Gwi-ma; known by the hunters as "The Anonymous" that helps the Huntrix girls "loosened up a bit" through exchanged letters because apparently their ancestors are, as (Name) quoted it, "Stuck-ups" ; while also dealing with wiping criminals-who-haven't-receive-their-due-karma from the face of the earth on her spare time...

Let me know your thoughts! 🙏🥹💞

P.S. Maybe I'll delete this post later? Idk, let's just see where it goes first...

[aingeal98]

More Jason and Cass thoughts (sorry but also not sorry) but if I was magically given full control over DC and could write what I'd want obviously I'd make Cass Batman but I've been thinking of what sort of reaction and role Jason would have in response. I think I'd write his version of "Congrats on the new job!" as a test, involving the Joker and civilians and gangs and Red Hood and a ton of explosives. Bruce failed me, and now he's given up. You're his successor, let's see how you handle this dilemma that freaked him out so badly he threw a batarang into my throat rather than let me avenge my own death in front of him.

So obviously Cass will overcome the traps and the puzzles. That's the fun part to show how competent both of them are and sprinkle in little character moments as we go. But then we reach the emotional crux of the matter, probably laid out as some sort of saw trap because it's Jason. Here I am, a victim of murder. You say nobody dies tonight but I did, and I want the man who did it dead. Not only did Batman fail to avenge me but he failed to stop the Joker from going on to create even more victims. What right do you have to stop me from getting justice for myself? What right does this man have to life after what he's taken from me and from countless others? I'm not trying to kill a random stranger, I'm specifically demanding justice for my own death that I never got while I was gone.

There are two ways this could go. The straightforward route if I knew my time on this run was limited would probably be a pyrrhic victory like the ones Cass's og series was so fond of. Just like Bruce in utrh, she acts on instinct and saves the Joker (and Jason this time) . A win technically, but she fails the test. Jason is once again vindicated but with nothing to show for it. The story ends with Cass sending the Joker back to jail and going back to the batcave, where the old Robin costume looms judgementally, highlighting her failure. It would be the most fitting end given their character molds, all tragedy and conviction and unstoppable force meets immovable object etc.

However... I think the option I prefer would be a little different. Cass levelling with Jason, a killer talking to a murder victim. She has no right to stop Jason from getting justice, she has no love for the Joker but she knows any death she allows to happen like this would devastate her, just like that death row inmate long ago she tried to break out but ended up letting go once the family of the victim talked to her and demanded justice. I think... In this specific situation, she'd just be honest. Morally she has no right sure. Personally she just really really doesn't want anyone to die. Give her one chance, please. Let her try it her way. Not demanding, not lecturing or insisting, just... Please. Don't do this. Let me try another way.

And then what? Jason asks.

In the end a deal is struck. Cass will take the Joker and lock him up, ensuring he never harms anyone again while also trying to rehabilitate him. But the second she fails and he gets free, Jason kills him and she won't stand in his way. It's the kind of deal that leaves both of them mildly disgusted and dissatisfied with themselves, neither of them naturally creatures of compromise when it comes to this specific topic. But Cass is willing to do anything to avoid death and Jason did not expect the new Bat to be so... Flexible? Kind of? Of course maybe she won't actually hold up her end of the deal and when the Joker gets loose she'll try and stop Jason from killing him and he'll get his miserable vindication, but right now this is something strange and new and he's mildly confused and curious about where it will go. He doesn't believe in her ability to contain the Joker forever but he's willing to let her try because her reaction to that future failure interests him. She's given him a sword of damocles to hang above her head and he didn't ask for it or expect it. It's the type of power he never thought the Bat would just... Hand to him.

The conflict ends with neither of them fully winning or losing. They both don't really know what to feel about this.

The thing is, the second Cass let's Jason kill the Joker she's hanging up the mantle. She's staking the Bat on this, because it's always go big or go home with her when it comes to saving others, even someone like the Joker. In this magical universe where I have unlimited power, Cass would lock the Joker in a secret bunker and have Leslie Thompkins talk to him daily, mostly because I think her pacifism speeches and debates in the comics would make a fun contrast to the Joker's evil sadism. (But what about his rights? Doesn't he deserve a trial and to be held in a regular prison? I'm going to be honest I think Cass would be very comfortable bending the rules on this specific situation. Morally questionable but I'd have fun with it. She's going to let Leslie treat Joker like her personal pet project to save his soul because yes she wants him to change but also she's got a city to save every night so go crazy Leslie, have fun.)

And the Batman series would continue with Cass as the lead, new challenges and new antagonists and every twenty issues or so for the first hundred we'll cut back to the Joker briefly if his chats with Leslie can help highlight some thematic element of the current arc. But bit by bit he'd slowly fade away onto oblivion, maybe getting referenced every hundred issues or so until eventually no one remembers or cares about him because there's so much else going on. Meanwhile Jason's got a good thing going as Red Hood, primarily based in Park Row and a tentative ally on the occasion when their vigilante work aligns. Unlike Joker he's a much more frequent character in the comics, and after say 10 years (this is my magical fantasy universe Cass's batman run is going to last for a very long time alright) when people think of DC characters they think of Red Hood long before they think of the Joker.

Is any of this realistic? Right now of course not. It's why I'd go with the pyrrhic victory if I actually got the chance, because it would be the best way to tell the story in the larger context of the Bat narrative. But it's my fantasy DC editor and writer daydream and I'm going to dream big. They're never going to be normal happy siblings, their personal demons will never fully let them be free and the looming possibility of losing everything they currently have narrative wise if Bruce comes back as Batman will always be there. But it's maybe the closest to peace they'll ever get. Unsatisfying and tame compromise that probably violates several laws and ethical codes but whatever. Cass has never read the Geneva convention and Jason's not going to shed tears over the Joker. Let him die relevancy wise if not physically.

[fishareglorious]

sonetto: Who are you? Speak up …! Why are you following me?

the great matilda: