#the green batman show

[arkangelo-7]

It must be so fucking weird for Bruce and Oliver to be on the Justice League. Like here they are with a bunch of metahumans, aliens, wizards and gods and shit, and they’re literally just Two Dudes. I bet they side-eye the fuck out of each other during League meetings bc like what the actual fuck? how can this be my problem? I’m going to the chiropractor after this?

[violent138]

"Flash take the controls," Hal ordered, opening the hatch at the back.

Barry blinked, noticing the empty pilot's seat and zooming into it, shouting, "Are you crazy? I don't know how to fly this thing?!"

"What?" Hal demanded. Something exploded on the planet.

"I'm a forensic scientist!" Barry yelled, wildly pressing buttons. "Isn't there some kind of autopilot?" Looks back to see Hal gone.

Their spaceship proceeds to nose dive towards the alien planet, and Barry starts screaming--

Batman paused the footage, turning to the newer members. "And that's why flight training is now mandatory for all members of the League."

[feelingtheaster99]

I’m rewatching Young Justice again and in “Independence Day” I am just STRUCK by how well they introduce all four of the “sidekicks” and their respective mentors.

Like Robin is so at home fighting against villains. He cackles and he almost seems bored because he’s rather dismissive of Mr. Freeze and of the fight. He’s also fairly at ease with Batman, because I imagine not many other people, can tell Batman, “yeah, yeah” in that tone.

Speedy, on the other hand, is very serious. He’s the only one of the four who questions the villains’ motives and he is the one getting annoyed with Green Arrow for joking around.

Aqualad is also serious but in a much calm and less aggressive way. He absolutely oozes respect for Aquaman, even when his mentor teases him about being excited for the day ahead.

And Kid Flash? He’s going full-on impatient, excited puppy mode. He’s so impatient to get there that he allows himself to get slightly frozen in order to stop the fight as soon as possible. And his wide, excited grin is so telling of his generally positive personality

[yeesa]

Always (voluntarily) stuck in a JLU chokehold

[roseworth]

based on a convo with my brother

[not-another-robin]

I ❤️ making designs for the show that lives in my head

[corinthianrm0]

the ass bulge

+ bonus

what happens in the locker room stays in the locker room

[smokeygrayrabbits]

batfam stealing eachothers clothes whrn they miss eachother, especially when one of them is off on a long mission. dicks stuff is only stolen in Special Situations��� due to his horrible fashion sense. but one time Nightwing is off on some off world mission for a few weeks longer than expected and Gotham's underground erupts into chaos at the sight of red hood, local scary crime lord, wearing an awful bedazzled, cropped jacket with cat patches and tassels.

[catpriciousmarjara]

Okay so there's this dp x dc tumblr post about the JL finding the Ghost King's family tree or something and lots of misunderstandings happening but I can't find it anymore and would be grateful if someone would send it to me... Anyhow I was inspired by it and this is the result!

Also on ao3 if you wanna check it out there!

The Family Tree

"So you're telling me this is just a family tree?", Green Lantern asked with a frown on his face.

Bruce could see Constantine's eyes twitching at that question. As always, leave it to Hal Jordan to annoy people.

"This isn't just anything", the sorcerer said with narrowed eyes. "It's a Class-X magical artifact. If this thing is used as a focus for a ritual, the magnitude of magical energy would rise by at least 80 factors. For those of you non-magical or unfamiliar with magic, that's fucking huge."

Beside him Zatanna nodded, her gaze still fixed on the ancient manuscript. She hadn't taken her eyes off the scroll for more than a minute since she got to the Watch Tower and first saw it spread out on the containment room table. Constantine was the same. Captain Marvel was not present, working along with Superman, Hawkgirl, and Aquaman on a case, but his reactions have always been dissimilar from his magical colleagues, so his case might be anywhere between staying the hell away from it to trying to inhale it.

It was clear to Bruce that Zatanna coveted it, but was sensible and cautious enough to stay away from it. Constantine had no sense so he was a tossup. From where he was standing between Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter, the Gotham vigilante resolved to keep an eye on the two magicians. They most likely won't try to steal the artifact, considering the heavy dose of 'not messing with that thing' overshadowing the desire to possess it, but the scroll itself might be enchanted to encourage covetous feelings on those nearby. It wouldn't be the first time. Better safe than sorry.

It was Diana that stepped up towards the two JL Dark members to seek more clarification. As both a Demigod and as someone familiar with magic, she was usually the one taking point on such issues.

She gestured to the scroll innocently sitting inside the runic circle the two mages had constructed around it. "You have told us that the artifact is not destructive, that it is merely a record, and that the information it contains is not a spell, or a runic arrangement, or a magic circle. You have also told us that the strange energy readings coming from it are mostly due to the material it's made out of than any catastrophic sorcery enchanted into it. You have at last decoded it as a record of a family tree. Yet it is dangerous, a Class-X relic as you've said. Given all this information, I suppose the correct question to ask here is this: why is a family tree capable of raising magical energy output by 80 factors?"

The two magicians looked at each other. Zatanna finally pried her eyes away from the scroll and faced the room.

"Magic is a force that simultaneously has laws but at the same time adheres to none. It's confusing to explain but for the time being just keep that in mind."

She walked to the center of the room, followed by Constantine, visibly trying to collect her words. Bruce prepared himself for a complicated explanation and activated another one of the batsuit's recorders. He felt the urge to sigh, for a supposed unchained force, Magic was needlessly complex at times, and practically incomprehensible to non-magicals.

At the front, Zatanna took a deep breath and began.

"As you know there are multiple dimensions. But magical dimensions come under a different category. Depending on the overall magical potential of a particular magical dimension, we call it the World State Stable Thaumaturgical Output Capacity, we can classify these dimensions in grades and levels, as either higher or lower, with relation to each other. These levels are dependent on a multitude of variables like space, time, gravity, Events, Proximity, etc and as such are non-linear, and unfixed. That's the first thing."

Bruce could practically see the capitals on the last two. Looks like they would need to hold another meeting to clarify a lot of these concepts. Seeing the dawning of lost expressions on some of the members however, Bruce mentally amended that to many future meetings.

Zatanna continued. "Magical objects from higher dimensions become stronger in lower ones. The inverse is also true. This is all in relation to the Overture and the same polarity orientation of course but we don't need to get into that now-"

On the contrary Bruce thought they really needed more explanation on all of that.

"-In simple terms, a child's toy from a higher dimension could become the focus for an apocalyptic ritual in a much lower dimension, while an apocalyptic artifact from a lower dimension might as well be paperweight in a sufficiently higher one. There are ways around it, but if those methods are not implemented, then this is how it generally goes. The larger the level difference, the higher the power."

Now that wasn't concerning at all. Bruce really needed to update his contingency plans regarding magic.

Constantine continued from where Zatanna left off, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

"The second thing is that when it comes to magic, things that are indefinable or unquantifiable become definable and quantifiable. Stuff like love, hate, happiness, despair, fate, necessity, authority? All measurable. Not always needed of course, But definitely possible and frequently used in a variety of magical fields."

The sorcerer leaned against a nearby chair. "One such thing is Significance. The magic contained in true names for instance is mostly based on significance. A true name is significant to you, its a doorway to your soul, and therefore it holds power. Significance is also what we call a positive, additive factor in magic. In the absence of interfering variables, significance as a quantity is directly proportional to magical output. In other words-"

"-the more significant an object or an event, the higher the magical energy output, and consequently higher the magical power", J'onn finished. He looked towards the scroll. "The information recorded on it, the family tree as you've said, valuable in significance, most likely in terms of whose family it's a record of. In addition, the artifact is from a higher dimension with relation to ours, and that has a cumulative effect."

"Yeah exactly", said Constantine with a raised eyebrow. "Which means that if that hypothetical toy Zatanna mentioned? If that happened to be important enough, like a first toy, or a cherished gift or something like that, its significance increases, its potential increases, and in the right hands, or in the wrong hands really, that potential could be harnessed at a lower level."

There was a bout of thoughtful silence as they absorbed all of the information.

But Bruce felt as if he had been quiet enough and took the chance to ask a question of his own. "You mentioned something called the Overture, and polarity orientation. What do they mean?"

Constantine just sighed. "For fuck's sake Batsy those things aren't really important to the discussion..."

Bruce just stared.

..."Fine", the mage said in defeat. "There are many names for it, the Overture, Exordium, Legerdomain, Nascence...but the most accepted two are the Beforebirth, and the Womb. It's not a something as much as it's a someplace, but then again it's not really a place either. Simply put it's the birthplace of Magic, where it all began and all that. It can't be accessed without the Key and that's been lost for a long time. It's actually a mission for many magicals to find it you know? A holy quest for a lot of them. Some of them are straight up crazy though."

Bruce field that information safely away. Figure out a plan to combat fanatic magicians trying to find the birthplace of magic for sinister reasons. "And polarity?"

"Well", Zatanna began, "its how magic is classified according to the nature of...magic? Or rather the essence? It's hard to put in mundane terms...Anyhow broadly speaking there are two main polarities, the Obverse, and the Reverse."

For a moment, she struggled with the explanation before brightening, seemingly having found an idea.

"Picture a number line, but like on the y-axis! Zero is the Overture, Obverse dimensions are the positive number side, and Reverse dimensions are the negative numbers! The higher up the obverse dimension, the larger its magical output! Similarly, the lower down the reverse dimension, the higher its magical output."

Bruce had hardly parsed through that when their resident speedster spoke up.

"Guys", the red clad hero said, "I feel like we missed the obvious follow up question after Ollie over here...like I feel like this is important, but where exactly is the scroll from?"

As one everyone turned towards the artifact.

Constantine grimaced and Zatanna winced. They looked at each other as if asking who wanted to bite the bullet. Finally it looked as if Constantine lost. The sorcerer cursed under his breath.

"Well which dimension is the scroll from?", asked Wonder Woman.

Constantine took what looked like a fortifying breath.

"It's from the Infinite Realms."

Silence.

"What?", the Green Lantern asked intelligently.

"It's from the Infinite Realms. As in Infinite. As in end of the figurative fucking line, number line whatever!"

Everyone stared at the magicians as understanding slowly dawned.

There was what was essentially a magical nuke in the Watch Tower.

"Now", began Martian Manhunter, "this is unfortunate".

[azurecanary]

Me watching TV shows is just going "i could've written this better" as if i am a person who enjoys writing in the slightest

[wayneprincess]

Okay but Justice League Unlimited out of its way to showcase many different nuanced relationships and I love it so much so here’s my top 5 of JLU duets (romantic relationships excluded even though both wonderbat and greenhawk both started at the base of a friendship)

5. Wonder Woman and J’on Jonzz - they both have a sort of gravitas and treat the mission with seriousness. My heart melted when I saw Diana hug in the series finale and was so happy to see him, they definitely understood one another perfectly.

4. J’on J’onzz and Superman - alien outcast club aka two superpowerful dudes who treat their mission seriously too. I loved the Christmas episode with J’on spending the holidays at Kents, it was wonderful at many different levels. I also loved how J’on morphed his body to resemble Superman more right after Supes and Bats rescued him in the first episode.

3. Green Lantern and Flash - opposites who learn from one another, jokester and solider? I love all of their scenes, especially in the JL episodes they spent a lot of time together and it was always a treat

2. Shayera and Flash - two redheads with absolutely different temperaments. Wally being the only one to hug Shayera after the voting at the end of Satrcrossed, Shayera helping Wally to flirt with Fire? Very iconic, thank you

1. Batman and Green Lantern - this bromance lives my rent free, their best episode? The Once and Future Thing of course, the banter while sliding through time tunnel in GL’s bubble is just incredible. You can’t tell me they don’t think of one another as BFFs, the stoic Batman went ahead and

[shinyspanishgem]

A (DC) rich people game show, but then they start going nuts.

You see, it's not unusual to have one of the infamous rich guys of the USA on TV, such as Oliver Queen and Bruce Wayne usually on talk shows to talk about their latest project, be it for good (donations) or bad (new LexCorp weapon, this one is for good I swear-).

But that's not the times people love seeing them, no, that's when they go on game shows. And finally, some producer gets the idea, "Why have only one, competing against other famous people like actors or singers, when they could compete against each other! What could possibly go wrong?".

A lot can go wrong. The show is a series of different games across the board, they all have to donate to charities to enter, but also know this is a great opportunity for getting good publicity. At first, it's just fun, games of them working together for a goal, with lots of "turns out the rich are eating each other!" jokes from Queen, comically bad attempts at leadership from Luthor, and Bruce Wayne being a passenger princess during the games "I bring the good luck".

That is until the following games are individual tasks, true competition...and then comes the cheating. Yes, Luthor started it but it also gets ridiculous.

They need to form a debate team, technically with their friends (free cameos for the show), Oliver and the rest of the participants understand that and bring in famous people, yes Oliver brings Black Canary that's his wife and best friend. And Luthor immediately calls on the best lawyers he has "You can't prove they aren't my friends also", which is a bit sad tbh.

Bruce knew he would do that. He is also a Gothamite with a sense of humour. Cable TV says hello to Harvey Dent, aka Twoface, because he is debating here now.

They enter a typical Steve Harvey style of questions, "Oh, you are bringing previous trivia night winners Luthor? that's smart...how did Wayne bring in the Riddler again? stop asking questions you say?"

They enter a mini survivors set, "Luthor brings in specialists from the military, can't say it doesn't make sense!... Mr Wayne, is that Poison Ivy? can he do that?"... and Oliver wins anyway (out of traumatic-experience experience), he brought Dinah again, he's a wife guy.

They enter a round of questions by journalists, points given by originality on evading questions, "So, we had to change our pick Clark Kent bc Luthor claimed it would be rigged, but thankfully Mr Wayne offered an alternative! welcome physicologist- Is that Harley Queen Mr Wyne- Bruce, can I call you Bruce? look me in the eyes and tell me how you are doing this Bruce"

"...Money?"

Harley rips them into psychological shreds, and a non-traumatized rich guy wins (DC equivalent of the Arizona Ice Tea CEO, they deserve it).

They enter rounds of questions about where they live, Luthor loses because he has no clue about the public transportation system in Metropolis, and Oliver acts dumb because he should not know half of the stuff he answers...Bruce gets stuck on the heroes of Gotham question, he is stressed, and he knows he'll be crucified if he forgest any of his vigilantes, and their associates, "Shut up Rick Redhood does count-".

Bruce Wayne forgets to count Batman, and he is saved by Oliver saying "They are bitter exes, let him not count the Bat!", he'll kill him later.

Luthor keeps cheating with professionals, Bruce keeps bringing in criminals, and Oliver wins because the final challenge is a popular vote, and the wife guy always wins.

[hijinxinprogress]

The JL keeps trying to stop Captain Marvel from talking to the media (and it’s not working)

The jl held a meeting about marvel’s conduct with cops bc he got a little too excited and suplexed a cop completely fucking forgetting he’s a 7ft buff ass man (the video goes viral for months) and the press is having a fucking field day with this bc ‘Captain Marvel Hates The Government!’ ‘Justice League Member, Captain Marvel, Shows His True Colors…?’ ‘Fawcett Superhero Attacks Civilian!’ ‘Captain Marvel Sends Police Officer to ICU!’ ‘Philadelphia Hero Puts Public Servant In Coma’ and shit like that is on the front page of every newspaper, magazine, and tabloid for the next eight months at least

so they’re like ‘hey you gotta say something! The people think you hate the us government esp the police!’ and he’s just sitting there confused before he says very slowly and clearly ‘But I do…I fucking despise them’

Barry and Hal are fucking losing it bc this is the guy that says ‘darn!’ in the heat of battle and has said on multiple occasions ‘Well, that’s not very nice, now is it?’ to opponents that destroy worlds for fun

like this guy still tries very hard not to make faces at the broccoli on his plate in front of the jl (and fails)

this guy hears a yj member or even the very adult titans cussing and going on the longest rant bc ‘I’ve not heard such foul language in all my years-!’ and what’s this ‘‘I’m an adult’ nonsense?? I’m older than Ravens grandfather 🤨 When you get to be my age-’

they’re all so pissed when they hear him cussing like a sailor playing video games on cyborgs phone the next day and he’s playing fucking temple run at that

[ilovedagain]

A short story about Damian Wayne and what colors mean to him.

"Maybe we should speak in a simpler way," the therapist said to the artist. After thirty minutes of stony silence, she was still trying to get the artist to say a word. "Talk to me about colors. What does blue mean to you?"

The artist's first thought was Richard. A man in black and blue who flew through the navy night sky, untethered by gravity. Skin mottled the same black and blue underneath his clothes. He tried to hide from everyone, burying his hurt deep. As if, perhaps, if he couldn't see it, others wouldn't see it too. He would guard his emotions, guard others—the fool—but he wouldn't guard himself.

"Guardian," the artist finally said about blue. He could talk about colors. He re-crossed his arms for the third time, aware of how obvious his discomfort was but unable to help it.

He knew how to face judgment, harden his heart and list his failings to superiors. But the therapist was nonjudgmental, asking him about colors, and he never learned how to guard against someone without ulterior motives.

"What about yellow?"

The artist swallowed. Yellow was the color of the cape he tried to steal from a boy who needed it as much as him. It was a flash of brightness in an unforgiving world where he had to fight dirty and vicious to earn his place. At least, that was the world before everything changed. Before the world softened around the edges and suddenly he was the dark, unforgiving one.

"Regret."

The therapist hummed. A soft, melodic sound beneath the crashing waves in his ears. Maybe she could hear how loud his heartbeat was because she didn't push him to elaborate. "Pink?"

The artist almost smiled. Pink was the tongue of his cat, stuck out in her sleep.

"Cute."

Unlike him, the therapist didn't hold back her smile.

"Black?"

That was an easy one. The color of mystery. The color of the void in his life; the empty space beside his mother. That void captured his younger self's mind, always wondering what the void was like. What it would make of him. The hard part was saying aloud, to the therapist, what it meant to him.

"Father," he said, and immediately regretted his honesty.

She nodded, not making a big deal of it.

"Red?"

The artist exhaled deeply. He thought of many things. The red of his eye-veins when he was stressed. The red blotches of blood blooming like roses on a white bandage wrapped and wrapped around a head wound, vaguely bouquet-like. The red-chested robins he found in his father's gardens and fed seeds as he sketched their innocence.

The red helmet of a man, who was really a boy, desperate and different from his family. Living despite all the odds saying he should be long dead by now.

"Life," the artist said. He let his arms drop, suddenly drained like a nurse had drawn a liter of his blood.

"Green?"

The artist froze. He stared at the therapist, wondering about her angle. Did she know where he came from—his hometown and its lifeblood? Was this the goal of her little game of colors, how she would finally glean his thoughts about his childhood home?

When he was a young boy, in a kingdom of sand and gold, green was everywhere. The green fields in a greenhouse of extinct plants. In the green eyes of his mother and grandfather, the very same eyes as his own. And in the green pools that restored life, a miracle he beheld almost daily.

He would stand before those miracle waters, anxiously waiting for his loved ones to emerge, contemplating mirages and how it must be a lie to restore life after death. And yet, his pets had survived a plague, his mother had survived a stab wound, and his grandfather had survived cancer. He was a child who believed he was lucky.

"We're finished here." He stood and left, fifteen minutes before the end of the session, disregarding the therapist's soft-spoken plea to wait.

Richard greeted him in the waiting room with a smile that vanished when he saw his face. He sprang to his feet, abandoning the magazine unceremoniously on the chair, and matched Damian's brisk pace out of the building.

"What happened?" Richard took a shaky breath when Damian ignored him in favor of speed-walking to the parking lot. Richard placed a hand on his shoulder as they reached the car. He bent his head to meet his eyes, but Damian stubbornly turned his head away. His eyes were so, so blue. "Dami, what happened?"

Damian knew, and he knew Dr. Dinah knew, that refusing to discuss that color spoke volumes, more than anything he had said during the session.

"Home," Damian whispered, feeling like a child crying on his first day of kindergarten. "Please, I just want to go home."

They didn't converse during the car ride home, though Richard stole glances at him, his unspoken words palpable in the silence. Damian fled to his room and spent dinner there. He was too restless to sleep and too exhausted to study. Tugged between the urge to fight and to freeze.

Like how all roads lead to Rome, he ended up painting. He set up an easel taller than himself and began mixing colors until he had every shade of green. He thought about home. His old home, the one in an unforgiving world where death was both constant and impossible, where pain was as abundant as gold, but at least the world made sense. The strong survived, and the strongest conquered. They even conquered death.

The scene he painted was a view inside a tower. Stone walls stretched up into infinite flights of stairs, with assassins lined up in rows on each level. The pool at the bottom cast a thick, green hue over the darkness. But the pool was an afterthought; the focus was on the walls of the tower.

He knew those walls well. They were made of bulging rocks that lay unevenly. When they were bathed in a green haze, Damian couldn't help but think they resembled cancer cells under a microscope. And that was precisely how he painted them: a tower with walls like tumor cells, splotches of assassins in the darkness, and the gaping green pool at the bottom.

Poison. Green is poison.