#the justice league could not have fucked up their research any harder if they tried

[merchantziro]

DP x DC Writing Prompt: Justice League's Totally Real Redemption Program

It has been a few months now since Vlad became a member of the Justice League.

...Alright rewind, it started after he instinctively used his powers a bit in human form during one of the Wayne's Galas. It was subtle but Masters moved someone out of the way and they "barely" avoided it (no thanks to a hint of intangibility of course) if only to continue talking business with them or coursem

Of course he should have known being technically a Metahuman in Gotham would get him on the Bat's radar. It was only a matter of time before the big bad bat himself burst into his office.

But... It happened while he was asleep and only left a business card to contact the Justice League??? They apparently wanted to recruit him???

Vlad was unsure but based on them being friendly they seemed to act like they were trying some bizarre rehabilitation program? Like they're trying to make villains into heroes by treating them well having them use their powers or skills for their side? Well based on his data on the Flashes, they seem to treat their Rogues well... Probably his idea.

Weird that they chose him first instead of one of their own rogues, but Vlad went along with it. Writing it off Danny was also being recruited by the Justice League and he suggested using him as a Guinea Pig first? Honestly he wouldn't put it past the boy.

Over time though Vlad began to see the positive effects he was having as the heroes seemed to look happy he was learning good with proud stares. It felt.... Refreshing to use his powers for good, something he remembers his past self had mocked Daniel for when they met.

...Speaking of Phantom, where was he anyway? It's been a while since he pestered Vlad?

------

Batman, on a rare occasion like this, was happy all things considered. Constantine was right about the rumors regarding a Halfa helping people and ghosts alike. A hero in his own right.

He didn't expect to find Vladimir Masters as the one he was looking for, and by chance when he saved someone with a subtle use of powers. At first suspecting Metahuman abilities he was keeping under wraps, but Constantine came by not long after asking about the feeling of the "Infinite Realms" in the area. Once he was told about ghosts, it didn't take long to find a connection back to Vlad.

After some digging they found according to legends he has been seen across history having fought what was believed to have been another like him... The only other Halfa and one appeared evil to the bone.

Batman hadn't pressed Plasmius about his past but he did make a list of the rogues in Amity Park, a town protected by the Halfa.

Including the suspected evil Halfa, he was easy enough to track down as hiding as a ghost hunter's own son and seal away into a little artifact for now. One less threat to deal with...

Even if he recognizes not all ghosts are evil, some do not deserve second chances for their crimes.

------

(Or... Justice League fucks up a teeny bit in research and recruitment, so through misunderstandings they believe Plasmius was the hero and Phantom was the villain based on past stories of their appearances and legends passed through the Ghost Zone to other mythical creatures but the story and detail become warped and faded as centuries past by.)

Meanwhile Vlad thinks this is some weird rehabilitation project and seems to be working for him as he feels good about doing good. Danny in turn may not be stuck in absolute suffering but isn't exactly having a good time due to being mistaken for the bad guy and now currently sealed away.)

[squiddybeifong]

Polka Dot Dress

StephRae Weekend Day 3: Eggplant vs Amethyst

@ravensflockofrobins​

--

Steph let out a sigh as she gazed up at the cracked remains of the moon, its form still as dark as fresh blood. The sides of her vision were tinted with the blues and yellows and reds of the domes around them and she tilted her head as she tried to find the man on the moon but he was split in two, the edges of him fallen away to burnt craters. 

Her lips tilted down as she tried to remember the last time she properly saw him. The attacks happened while she was on patrol and the moon was the one bright spot in Gotham’s sky, overshadowing the bat-symbol that the commissioner flashed. Just how many days had it been since the launch? She’d lost count weeks ago. 

A tiny part of her wanted to ask her only solace in this world, but she didn’t want to pry. Especially not when things were finally calm enough that they could sleep the night uninterrupted. 

Raven stirred next to her, weakly sitting up and wiping the dried blood off her hands. Whether the last of her empathy allowed her to feel Steph’s worries or not, she let her temple rest against the blonde’s shoulder. The demoness took a deep breath, their physical contact enough for her to really feel Steph’s disquiet. She licked her dry lips, feeling a crack on the side of her mouth, “8 months, 3 weeks, 6 days and about 17 hours.” 

Violet eyes flicked to the sky, the corners of her mouth quirking down in a not-quite frown, “18 hours if we’re this close to sunrise.”

Steph let out a sigh at her words. She blindly reached for the mystic’s hand and tugged it to her face, kissing the pale knuckles. Raven softly hummed, closing her eyes as they sunk into silence. After a beat she spoke up, “Stephanie…”

The blonde kissed the cracked jewel in the Azarathian’s head, murmuring against her love’s skin, “You’re the only one who calls me that.”

Raven opened her eyes, “I’m the only one around.”

“Well, yeah,” A humorless laugh escaped and Steph sat up a bit straighter. Her fingers tightened between Raven’s, “But even before all this mess. Most called me Steph.”

“Most?”

“Alfred used to…” Her words trailed off into nothingness as the pain of her loss reared its head again. The mage bit the inside of her cheek and tugged on her lover’s shirt, bringing Steph down into her arms as they lazed on the grass. They sat in silence for a while under the dying pine’s branches, the moonlight flickering past the needles and lighting up their faces as the two took comfort in each other’s presence. 

Steph shifted, tucking her face into Raven’s neck as the ex-Titan broke the quiet, “I miss them.”

Her voice was raspier than usual. Sapphire eyes closed as the mage kept talking, “I’m glad you’re still here with me but I just--” Her face stayed stoic even as she squeezed her violet eyes shut, “I miss everyone so much.”

“8 months, 3 weeks, 6 days and 18 hours and you’re still not used to feeling this much, huh?” Steph went quiet after her own joke, her humorless chuckles fading in the air. Raven’s fingers brushed her knuckles and their hands slid together. The blonde fondly gazed to the east, where Gotham used to be. She knew that Raven was back to staring where the Titans set up their camp and murmured into the air, “Think they’d ever let us come back?”

Raven shifted, uncomfortable at the prospect, “Do you even want to?”

The back of Steph’s head pressed against the tree, “I’m not sure anymore.”

--

Raven was silent as she looked to the west, where the Titans patrolled. The blue dome was ominous as it contained the entirety of the western coast and the demoness desperately wondered how everyone was doing. Were the Titans getting along in their research on this situation, how the birds who roosted in her room’s window were doing, how her kids were fairing without her there. They loved Victor almost as much as they loved her, but her arms ached at not being able to carry them to bed after training. 

Her fingers curled into a fist at the thought of the Toddler Titans and she hastily urged her mind to more mystical ideas, like whether or not Zatanna in San Francisco when the attack happened and if Zachary had even been able to make contact with her. She thought about the rest of the Justice League and its allies, wondered if they were anywhere close to finding some breakthrough in who did this to their planet and how to reverse the shields that separated them.

Sighing, Raven tried to steady her breathing as she glanced at the sky. Steph hadn’t been gone more than half an hour but she still fretted. Even though she had no idea where their clearing was direction-wise, the Titan could pinpoint exactly where Jump CIty lay within that dome. She knew the Bats who had once called Steph family were directly opposite, but she couldn’t bear to look their way.

Not quite a Titan, not quite a Bat; abandoned, left for dead, their inclusion labeled a weakness despite whatever benefits they could have brought to their families’ attempts at survival; sure, the shields would’ve collapsed had they been let in, but with this unknown keeping everyone on edge the civilians couldn’t afford that kind of risk. Now they were just two peas in a pod, weren’t they?

Her fingers curled in and out of a fist. She felt blood slipping down her palm and Raven sadly stared down at the discoloration where hairline cuts hadn’t healed properly and mud had dried and flaked off her skin more times than she could count. She thought of Steph and the scrapes she would inevitably come back with and let her hand glow blue. 

Another prong of sadness; they’d lost so much, and yet the Titans refused to let her stay, refused to use what was left of her healing abilities if it meant she would be one of them. 

The demoness’ nose scrunched up and she shook her head. That was being too harsh. Sure, she certainly wouldn’t have hesitated at the cost of letting someone back in, especially when their powers were diminishing as steadily as hers were, but that didn’t mean their reasoning wasn’t sound. 

To them she was family and a valuable, integral member of the team, but what was her safety compared to the safety of the entire west coast?

Especially as her control on her father’s influence weakened, at least the shield would save most of the world from the immediate effects. Violet eyes shut at the thought and Raven pulled her knees up to her chest. With Steph by her side she could stave off her demons for a little while longer, but what would happen when they finally caught up to her? 

Her sixteenth birthday felt like ages ago, but that support system had been whittled down to just one. If Trigon returned, if he commanded her to destroy the already destroyed planet she called her home, what then?

Would Steph survive?

Raven bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. When a buried part of her tittered at the taste her eyes snapped open and she spat it out. Pulling some of the grass underneath her legs she chewed on a strand, keeping her mind and her every-increasing urges calm. 

That seemed to be getting harder and harder to do when she was alone. Raven swallowed the blade, let her shoulders slump and started munching on another one. She’d ruled out Trigon as the cause of this attack ages ago, but perhaps she could--

No. 

The voice in her head was her own, but it mimicked the all-too familiar tone of boundless confidence and righteous fury. The empath slowly closed her eyes at the thought of her favorite alien, her lips still warm and her ribs still healing from their last hug and their only kiss what seemed like decades ago. 

Violet eyes opened again. Kory had told her that they’d reunite one day and there was nothing Raven wanted more than to have Steph by her side when she did so. A derisive snort erupted out of her; to even consider dealing with her father was ludicrous. Kory wouldn’t approve, the other Titans wouldn’t, her kids wouldn’t and she was sure as hell her Bat wouldn’t either. 

Raven reclined back until her head rested against the scratchy bark of the tree. She hoped Steph would get back soon.

Because all she could think about was the one question that refused to leave her mind: if she sacrificed herself, would it even matter? The Bat needed her Titan as much as the Titan needed her Bat. 

An awful knot twisted in Raven’s stomach at the thought of leaving Steph alone; or worse, of Gotham taking her back after all this. She ran her hands over her short hair, her mind aimlessly wandering from one thought to the next as she considered whether or not she should just shave the choppiness off already. Anything to keep her mind off what her life used to be and bring her back to the few bits of happiness that she clung to.

Azar, what a fucking mess. 

--

Balancing to keep the textbooks and notecards from falling, Nightwing casually reclined on her bed. He pouted a bit as Raven held up a hand and gave him a look, “No.”

He let out a lazy laugh, hissing as it pulled at his bulletwound. Raven leaned over him, her hands glowing as he chuckled out, “I literally haven’t said a word.” She flicked another, deeper deadpan look his way and he tapped at her temple, “And emotions don’t count!”

The empath let out a snort at that and shoved the sleeve of her hoodie in his mouth, glad for the minute of silence as she took the bullet out. Focusing on closing him up, Raven drawled out the obvious, “You’re preparing to meddle.”

He shook his head, “I just happen to think y’all’d get along well.”

Raven blinked at him, absolutely refusing to respond to that contraction. Dick grinned and held up a finger, getting right to the thick of it, “You two both love waffles.”

When the goth’s head tilted he made a peace sign, “Aaaaaand you both have purple uniforms.”

A brow raised when he didn’t add anything else. Try as she might, it was hard to not break her stoicism as he held up his palms, their bond letting her know that he’d said what he thought was most important. Had her empathy not been busy holding back any pain from disturbing the bird, Raven could only imagine she’d enjoy whatever high he was on to think that that was enough. 

Her shoulders shook as she held back her amusement, “Really? That’s it?”

The mystic’s favorite acrobat stuck out his tongue at her tone. Dick put the back of his hand to his forehead and let out a mock-gasp, bemoaning to an imaginary audience, “How inconsiderate!”

She had half a mind to flick his wound but Nightwing dramatically slumped onto her bed, lamenting out before she could, “And here I was thinking about taking you to this new waffle-based food truck to meet her. But I guess not…”

Raven sighed. 

Two nights later she was on a rooftop, fiddling with her rings to keep her sane as she waited for the two Bats to show up. The night wasn’t too busy but the food truck across the street was and the empath wondered if she’d have time to meditate a bit. Before she could consider it, she felt the unmistakable pulse of Dick’s aura and turned to get a glimpse of him through the smoggy Gotham air, spotting an eggplant-colored cloak swinging by his side.  

He was excited as he waved at her and she clung to Spoiler’s somewhat calmer aura as they landed next to her perch. 

Nightwing’s smile was somehow wider than his arms as he spread to motion to his favorite half-demon, “And here she is!”

The teenagers dropped their hoods, their brows jumping as they got a good look at each other. Steph looked a bit starstruck at the sight of her and then very mortified as Dick wrapped an arm around her, loudly (read: obnoxiously, as only an older sibling could) smooched her temple, and introduced, “Spoiler, this is Raven. Raven, this is Spoiler.”

Raven didn’t feel the need to keep up her stoicism as she softly smiled at the blonde. That smile became the closest thing to a smirk as Dick waggled his fingers to get her to come closer and she rolled her eyes, “We can ignore him, if you’d like.”

Taking a relieved step forward, the fighter tossed her hair over her shoulder, “Thank god for that.” A lazy chuckle slipped out of her as she held out her hand, “Spoiler.”

Raven shook her glove and smiled wider at the emotions that bled through, not sure how much credit she’d give Dick when they did end up being friends. “Raven. I heard you wanted to try out this place too?”

“It’s a great place to make friends,” The acrobat piped up. He put his hands on his hips and rocked on his heels, quickly mumbling out the corner of his mouth, “Ormaybemoreifyoutwo’reintoit!!” 

The mystic flicked him with a zap of magic. Her pointed look was less pointed with the way Steph was watching, her bemusement seeping into the air and mingling with Raven’s own. A gray finger pointed at him, “Meddling.”

Nightwing pointed back, “I mean, you never know what might happen, right?” His brows jumped and Steph jerked a thumb over her shoulder to where the food truck’s crowd was dying down, her smile mischievous as she teased to the Titan, “Wanna ditch him?”

Dick sputtered out a “Hey!” and Raven laughed.

--

They’d found what must have been a lake. Rusted car skeletons and overgrown bushes surrounded the little oasis and the lack of trees could be as much as a detriment as an advantage, but neither of them cared. 

Their hearts were still frantic after the close call with that fire so both stayed quiet, going about their usual routine. Staying in eyesight, Raven went west and Steph went east. If there’s water, find a tree stump and tie off a net. If there’s any barrier of trees, scout them out and build small fire pits near their entrances. If there’s any usable remnants of society, scour through them. 

Once the area was secure, Steph found herself sitting on the lake’s edge. She heard but didn’t react to Raven quietly striding up next to her. Her eyes did snap open at the crinkle of a chip bag and she turned to stare at the demoness. A flabbergasted sound erupted out of her and for the first time in too long Steph threw her head back and laughed. 

The blonde slumped against Raven’s side, not even attempting to smother her incredulous giggles, “Where the hell did you find funyuns in the middle of the apocalypse?”

Raven tilted her chin towards the westernmost side of the clearing where the abandoned shed lay, “There’s a whole swath of them in the shed. The cans on the floor are banged up and some are leaking, but these were the only things on the shelves.” Her nose scrunched up as she munched another and offered the bag to her only friend, “They’re stale but edible.”

Steph hummed as she took one from the family sized bag. She got ten chips in before the insanity of everything got to her. Another laugh slipped out of her and she let her head fall back. The sunset was warm on her face as she murmured, “This is weird. I’m not going crazy, am I?”

Raven licked the onion dust off her fingers, “We both probably are.”

“Well,” Steph lazily rested her hands on Raven’s shoulder, nudging the Titan’s cheek with her nose. Raven turned to her and let their foreheads touch, her breath hitching as Steph spoke, their lips so close that they brushed, “At least I got someone to go crazy with.”

Her hand came up to cup Raven’s jaw, urging her down into a kiss that the mystic eagerly accepted. Letting the funyuns fall to the side, the mystic pulled Steph as close as she could, nearly toppling over as the blonde wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Giggling into their kiss Raven hugged her back, desperate for the barely-there tingle of emotions she could feel emanating off the Bat.

As her fingers tangled in the fighter’s long hair she knew this was wrong just as well as she knew that Steph knew. Admittedly, Raven could ignore the muddy shore they were sinking into but, empathy or not, she knew they were kidding themselves. Sighing, the demoness pulled back an inch, her breath washing over the blonde’s face, “We should stop.”

Steph nodded, surging forward for another kiss. She ran her fingers through the short inky hair and murmured against Raven’s lips, “We probably should.” 

Still, she sighed into the demon’s mouth and pulled her closer, tilting her head back as dark gray lips left hers to trail down to her jawline. Her fingers fluttered up and under the collar of the mage’s flannel, leisurely tracing the frayed bra strap underneath. The Bat hoped that would be the end of things but then Raven was noting from the column of her throat, “Everything’s all fucked up, isn’t it?”

Blue eyes closed. Steph let out a quiet moan as Raven pulled her into her lap, one hand steadying on her thighs and the other running through her hair. Pale fingers caught in the knotted mess of her blonde curls and the worry that she’d been keeping in her heart spilled out, “I don’t know whether or not we’re rebounds.”

Her words were quiet in the air. Raven’s mouth slowed and she started peppering butterfly kisses along Steph’s neck. The demoness let out a heavy sigh then leaned up to peck the blonde’s chin, “I think we are.”

Steph ran her fingers over the short hairs on the empath’s nape. Her sapphire eyes were worried yet incredibly calm, “Do you mind it?”

Raven tilted her head and kissed her again, sweeter than all the others before, “Not for now.”

--

Steph tugged the cloth firmer around her mouth, fighting the urge to rub at her eyes. She refused to look back towards Gotham, unsure if she could keep her face steady at the sight of the shield that kept her out, at the shine of the city that she had been pushed out of. 

A part of her understood their reasoning. But knowing her exclusion made sense was an entirely different matter from watching the rest of the Bats turn from her. Cass and Tim had been the most reluctant, but she knew they couldn’t risk it. 

Her throat was dry and her mind was clear. What was her safety compared to the safety of the entire east coast?

Sapphire eyes squeezed shut and Steph took a calming breath, trying to keep it together. The blood-orange dome over this section of the country was nowhere near as full of magic as the one over Gotham; it dangerously buzzed whenever she got more than a mile near it, but there were no cracks within its magic and the people stuck inside were huddled near the cities.  

Her fingers tugged on her hood to keep it steady over her face. The sunset was less than an hour away and she didn’t know where she’d stay the night; judging by her surroundings she’d gotten at least to Indiana, if not to its border with Illinois. That was good for now, especially if the great lakes were omitted from the attacks like the oceans seemed to be. 

As the sun sunk into the horizon Steph spotted a sign, its arrows leading her towards the abandoned parking lot for Charlestown State Park. The walk wouldn’t be too far and hopefully this park had a ranger’s station. Her knees nearly buckled at the idea of sleeping in an actual building in who knew how long but the Bat shook her head, keeping her wits about her as she forced herself into a jog. 

She’d yet to see any wild animals and most of the people outside the domes had probably already perished, but she couldn’t be too sure. All the tools she had left were a few batarangs and her grappling hook; Spoiler snickered to herself as she rounded the corner, she had more than enough.

There were a few trucks and a lot of minivans in the parking lot and she immediately set about breaking into the only one with a stick-figure family on the windshield. A goldmine awaited her: few water bottles, some long-stale but still edible fruit snacks, half a box of granola bars, a new box of Spongebob band-aids and a full bottle of hydrogen peroxide. 

Before she could capitalize a crack! sounded from the other end of the parking lot and the Bat instinctively dropped to the ground, crouching near the tires as she readied herself to fight. 

The shadows seemed to be darken around her, but that was probably the exhaustion playing tricks on her eyes. A quiet gasp preceded someone roughly calling out her alias, “Spoiler? SPOILER!!!”

Steph stood, two batarangs clenched tightly in her fists. Her fingers twitched as she stared at the cloaked person on the opposite side of the clearing; she knew that cape. Amethyst, so similar yet completely different from the tattered eggplant one she currently donned. 

Then the woman tossed her hood back and all suspicion was gone. 

A horrible, wonderful flood of relief surged in her stomach. The blonde’s lips trembled, “Raven?” 

--

They had skirted in between the two domes that bisected the midwest, taking the long way through Illinois and Wisconsin until there was an unnatural edge. Glancing back from where they’d travelled in the last few months, Raven sighed at the knowledge that the Chequamegon-Nicolet national forest was a solace that they couldn’t linger at long. 

Violet eyes fondly ran over the trees that had hid them and she reached to grab Steph’s hand, motioning to the two trails that would take them due west or due east, “I’m guessing that’s the way to Superior and Lake Michigan is over there.” 

The demoness tugged her Bat closer and pecked her temple, “Which one would you like?”

“Lake Superior’s bigger,” Steph’s voice and her face were hopeful at the idea. She tugged Raven down for a quick peck, knowing that her lover felt her relief at finally having a set plan, “Let’s try that.”

So, destination in mind, the pair set off; as usual, all they encountered were ghost towns and abandoned cars. Any wildlife stayed deathly silent as the two once-heroes made their way through, same as they had since the domes first appeared. However, the padlocked warehouse not a mile from the lake’s shore was an oddity.

Sapphire eyes blinked up at the building. Spoiler drummed her fingers on the tire iron tucked into her belt, “Think we’ll get lucky?”

Raven clicked her tongue and motioned for the blonde to go ahead, “Might as well find out.”

It took a few swings, but the padlock gave way and Steph let out an incredulous snort as she swung the doors open. Dust and cobwebs greeted them, showcasing unsteady aisles of plastic bins, waterproof tarps, some poorly made candles and metal bookshelves that somehow had yet to rust or collapse. 

Not quite a bunker and not quite a lightly-ransacked store, but it was more than enough. 

Steph put her hands on her lips, squinting at the dark corners. She took a few steps forward and got a proper look at the place, “We should split up. Check that no one’s around while there’s still light.”

She turned back to Raven as the demoness shrugged out, “Makes sense. I’ll go left.” She tugged on the end of Spoiler’s cloak, her lips quirking up at the corners. Steph raised a brow and Raven grabbed her hand, squeezing once, “Kiss for luck?”

The Bat tried to give her a deadpan look, but she supposed her smile was preventing it from working. Steph stepped up next to her and quickly pecked the empath’s cheek, “You dork.”

Raven stole a proper kiss, “Your dork.”

Her violet eyes were reassuring as she winked and started towards the left side of the warehouse. She called over her shoulder, “Shout if you need anything!” and smiled at the obnoxiously loud kiss that the blonde blew towards her back. Her attention easily slid to the maze of sealed bins in front of her and Raven eyed them as she stepped past. 

Relief flooded her at all the tools that she could pinpoint during her walkthrough: lanterns whose batteries had probably run out, seeds that may or may not still be plantable, wooden chairs, metal utensils, about ten cast iron pans.

A brow raised at the sight of a mountain of clothes left aside. Humming at the thought of mending their uniforms’ frayed patches, Raven crouched down to get a better look. Mothballs and dust were aplenty, but most were still wearable for at least a few more months. “Not a lot of clothes we can fit in here,” Raven quickly rummaged through the sides of the pile, her nose wrinkling at the sheer amount of denim jackets she was uncovering. 

Her head snapped up at Steph’s cry of “I found cans!” and she slipped, her head tilting as her palm landed on satin. Raven carefully pulled out a child’s sundress from the fray. The demoness softly ran her fingers over the soft material, smiling at the purple polka dots and the lacy bow around the waist. The pattern was nearly identical to Melvin’s favorite pair of pajamas and her heart twisted at the thought.

Raven jumped as Steph let out a snicker behind her, “Having fun?”

Violet eyes were a bit sheepish as she held the dress to her chest. The blonde plopped down next to her and hid a laugh with a kiss to the shoulder of Raven’s amethyst cloak, “We shopping now?”

“Maybe.” The once-Titan’s voice was wistful as she held the dress up again, a quiet sigh leaving her. Steph took a moment to watch her girlfriend, taking in the obvious shifts of emotion on her face. Regret, fondness, sadness, love, guilt, admiration; something undeniably maternal.

Sapphire eyes flicked to gray lips as Raven bit the inside of her cheek. An impossibly small smile formed and the empath turned to her, “You know what they remind me of?” 

The Bat slumped against her side, knowing that physical contact was probably the best course of action. Steph wrapped one hand around her lover’s arm and the other came up to pet the satin, her question floating into the air, “They?”

Raven perked up at the embrace and tapped one of the polka dots, “You remember that show Steven Universe? They look just like Amethyst’s gem.”

Steph let out a lazy chuckle, running a hand through her hair. The scent of the lake still clung to them, permeating through the dust; it reminded her of some of those family vacations Alfred planned and her stomach rumbled. Remembering what she found during her walkthrough, the blonde admitted, “I was thinking eggplant slices myself.”

Raven hummed, “I can see that.”

Taking the conversation where her hunger wanted it to go, Steph ducked her head and kissed the sliver of neck exposed from the rip in the demoness’ collar. The lightness in her voice came as naturally as breathing, especially at the way Raven cooed and inched closer, “Hey, did you know canned eggplant’s a thing, apparently? ‘Cause there’s like a year’s worth stuck under some empty gas containers over there.”

Quickly folding the dress, Raven pressed it to her chest. Feeling nostalgic, she pecked Steph’s forehead, “It’s been a while since we got to sit dinner, huh?”

--

“Steph...” Cass’ face was crumpled up as she got the hero’s attention, her eyes wide and worried as she stared out past the transparent dome. She thought about all that could be done and all that couldn’t, worried over the choice that she had made and agonized over how her best friend would fare.

Not knowing what to do, Cass let out a quiet, “I’m…” 

Steph closed her eyes as she waited, knowing that her far-off hope wasn’t going to come true. Mahogany eyes watched the despondence curl the blonde’s shoulders and the words rushed out, “I’m so sorry.”

She thought of the sheer amount of vulnerable civilians within and hugged her arms around herself. Spoiler crossed her arms, not wanting the dancer to beat herself up over this, “It’s okay.”

“That’s a lie.” 

Cass looked as if she wanted to say something else, but decided against it. The two stared at each other for a minute. When the silence became too much Steph brushed some of her curls back, letting out a humorless laugh, “The others aren’t even gonna say one last goodbye?”

With the way the Bat glanced to the left, she could only suppose at least Tim was nearby. And while it was nice to know that someone else was there it wasn’t good enough, not when she was getting abandoned like this. Frustrated at the situation and the glassiness of her eyes Steph roughly ran a hand through her hair. 

She took a calming breath and grunted out as nonchalantly as she could bear, “It’s getting dark. I gotta go soon. Find shelter, y’know?”

“Right.” Black Bat wrung her hands in front of her chest. Steph watched how the bat symbol rose up as she took a deep breath, “Please…” Cass opened her mouth then shut it. She took another breath, the air shakily rushing out with her pleading, “Don’t die.”

A lopsided smile curled her lips, “I’ll try. Just… just help B fix this shit as soon as possible, alright? It’s gonna be weird not having you around.” 

Steph’s sight flicked to just over the Bat’s shoulder. She put up her hood then smoothed the domino mask over her eyes as she gave her almost-girlfriend a warning, “Civilians coming in on your 7.” 

Black Bat slid her mask back on, the stitches’ frown covering her own. Her fingers hesitated for half a heartbeat then she signed a quick, I’ll miss you.

Rubbing the back of her neck, Steph closed her eyes, “I’ll miss you too. Make sure Tim doesn’t go crazy again, yeah?”

Nodding once, Cass put her hand against the shield. It’s magic hardened around her palm and crackled dangerously when Steph tried to mimic her. Spoiler forced a smile, knowing that it did nothing to keep the brunette from seeing the tears slipping down her cheeks, “I’ll see you soon?” 

Cass’ mask didn’t move. 

Steph quietly sighed and wiped at her cheeks, “Yeah. Figured so.”

--

The sky was an odd mix of sherbert above them and gravel in the distance. Pastel shined down on them as they sat in the warehouse’s wide open doorway and if she strained her ears and ignored the faraway crash of the waves on the shoreline, the demoness could just barely pick up on the approaching thunderstorm. It’d probably hit them within a day, but with the unknown effects of these domes on the environment that knowledge did little to calm her mind.

Instead, she focused on the three things that she desperately needed and seemed to finally have for good: stability, safety, and Steph. Her cheek rested on the blonde’s temple as they sat and her eyes closed, enjoying the last of the sunset’s rays. 

“We could stay here,” Raven quietly observed. Even with only an inkling of her powers she felt the wave of Joy as Steph let out an agreeing laugh, one that carried over the afternoon heat. It seemed that the empath was making her smile more and more the longer this apocalypse went on and both were really enjoying the fact.  

Under her Raven’s shoulders shook with her own titters, but neither could help it. 

As their laughter lessened to giggles, Steph laced her fingers through the mystic’s warm ones. She looked up at the taller woman and rested her chin on the edge of Raven’s shoulder, a small smile on her face. Despite how shitty this end-of-days was, the Bat knew that being this comfortable wasn’t simply a result of their isolation.

Her heart thundered as she spoke the words, but Steph wasn’t nervous as she spoke, “I love you.”

Raven’s brows jumped at the confession, but her face softened. She pulled their joined hands up to her mouth and pressed a kiss to Steph’s knuckles, being careful not to touch the dried blood that had yet to be washed off. 

The mage hadn’t been able to feel so freely before, at least not without a few electronics blowing up, but she absolutely knew what she felt. And what she felt for her Bat was as strong as any emotion she’d ever experienced before, “I love you too.”

Steph grinned and raised up until their noses touched. She was a bit breathless and very restless as she eagerly kissed the love of her life, “Yeah?”

She wrapped her arms around the mystic’s neck and all but bounced into her lap. Teetering, Raven cupped her cheeks and kissed her again, giddy as their foreheads rested together, “Yeah.” 

As they fell back onto the blanket, fully appreciating how a familiar dance had become so brand-new now that they knew, the sunset’s heat got weaker and weaker on the warehouse’s thin roof. Neither woman noticed; they’d grown accustomed to how quickly night fell with the shields blocking the light and tonight would be no different --not when they had far more pressing matters to experience together.

Later, the moon was the main attraction in the sky as the heroes lounged out on the blanket again. Giggling, naked and exhausted, they didn’t bother getting up from their spot in the doorway to watch as the stars fought to shine past the magical light pollution. 

One minute of silent, contented cuddling turned to two. Then ten, then half an hour had passed before the words bubbled up in the empath’s chest. 

"You've been quiet," Raven murmured. 

Steph closed her eyes even tighter and snuggled even closer. She wondered how much of her emotions her mage could feel but pushed the thought away. The blonde pecked just above where a mosquito had bitten the side of Raven’s neck, "Just thinking."

There was another few seconds of quiet and Steph knew that her body language must have given her away, empathy or not. Raven's sad little smile came out in her voice, "About love? Or Gotham?" 

Steph's lips trembled and her empath shifted to lay on her back, being careful as she moved so that their skin didn’t stop touching. Gray fingers ran through her messy curls, sliding easier than normal with how damp everything still was. Raven breathed in once, twice, "It's fine to think about family often. Azar knows I do too."

“I had a daughter, once." Steph didn't know what made her blurt that out. Before she could quickly --instinctively-- play it off as a joke Raven moved, but only to scratch at her scalp again, running her fingers through the length of her curls. At the silent gesture blue eyes closed and an unsteady sigh escaped. Her fingers drummed just under the curve of her demoness’ ribs, nervous. 

Years of worries threatened to bubble out; used to the feeling, the Bat pushed them down just enough to think them over before she spoke, "She'd be five, six now?” She hid her face and ran the pads of her fingers over the mage’s buzzcut. “I wonder if she’s still out there.”

Raven’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. Steph heard her run her tongue over her teeth before she suggested, “We have that dress.”

“The one with the polka dots?”

“Yeah. The amethyst ones.”

Steph snorted, a tiny smile on her lips as she buried her face deeper in the crook of her girlfriend’s neck, “They’re eggplant, but continue.”

“Mmhmm, well,” Raven brushed aside her bangs and kissed her forehead, mindlessly wondering for not the first time how Steph survived with such long hair. “I’m sure she’d love it.”

“Bruce said she’d ‘never want for anything’ right before I gave her up. I don’t know if they’d be in Gotham, but not all of the cities were covered. If someone near an edgepoint took her in, then maybe--” 

Steph couldn’t finish her thought. Raven kissed her temple again, her eyes opening as she did so. Even without the sunlight, the dark clouds were obviously rolling in quicker than she first supposed. She let out a hum and murmured, “There’s looking to be a storm.”

She turned to half-spoon, half-pull the blonde on top of her. Raven kissed just under her earlobe, her fingertips following the tingle of goosebumps as they shivered down the Bat’s spine. The mystic smiled, “The lake might flood. If we start packing up now we could leave in the morning, try to track her down.”

Steph clicked her tongue. She raised up and kissed the demoness’ chin. Her hand cupped her face and as she ran her thumb over her cheeks Raven saw how the fighter was holding back her hope, “I don’t even know her name.”

The mage moved her fingers from the goosebumps to the curve of her lover’s lips. Reassurance filled her voice and brightened her smile as she reminded, “I didn’t know yours but I found you.”

She turned her head and kissed Steph’s palm. The blonde ducked her head, jumping to another train of thought before she could get charmed into having expectations. “You don’t seem the mom type.”

Violet eyes slowly blinked, “I’ve had some practice.” The thought of the Toddler Titans sent a bolt of ache through her chest, but Raven knew they were safe with her once-family. She tried to ignore her pain and focus on Steph, “Plus, I’d have you.”

Smiling down at her girlfriend, the Bat considered her idea. They’d need to think of a full plan later but the fact that there could be a plan was making her heart swell. Certainly she didn’t have any expectations just yet, but simply being able to talk about this, about her…

A happy, relieved, tiny sound bubbled out of the blonde, not quite a giggle but close enough. Steph half-crawled a few inches up to kiss her love, repeating the only constant she knew from these last few months, “And I’d have you.”

The air was damp and electric with the obvious warning of rain. It clung to their skin, tingled their injuries and energized the space between them. Their track record was encouraging; how likely was it that a depowered half-demon in California and a crime-fighter in New Jersey could find each other? Surely just as likely as them tracking down one little girl. 

And in that promising energy Raven could make one of the easiest guesses of her life. 

From the dyes in their cloaks to the polka dots on that dress, there was only one idea in her mind for what their daughter was probably called, knowing their luck. Raven loudly smooched her love’s cheek to keep her shit-eating grin from being too obvious, “I bet her name’s Violet.”

Steph let out a snort, palming the side of her face as she tried to keep her laughter at bay. She leaned back and pressed a kiss right above the demon’s heart, “Since when do you make jokes?”

[millenniumrobin]

Memories I Never Lived

Title: Memories I Never Lived Author: millenniumrobin AO3 Link

Written for the Batfamily Week 2018 Challenge: Time Travel

My name is Barbara Gordon. And if you’re reading this… well, I actually don’t know what it means if you’re reading this. The rules of time travel are still not exactly clear to me. But the most obvious answer I can come with is that if you’re reading this, it means I failed. It means I didn’t stop Dick Grayson from royally fucking up the timeline.

I should probably start from the beginning. I’m sorry if this is confusing, it still is to me, too. For the past twenty-seven years I’ve lived a relatively normal life as Barbara Gordon, daughter of Gotham Police Captain Jim Gordon. That was until last year, when my father was murdered by the mob. For two decades my dad tried to clean up this city, tried to clean up the police department, and it got him killed. But in my grief I started seeing visions. Flashes and fragments of another world I didn’t know. But I couldn’t remember where I’d seen it before. Which is odd, because I remember everything.

Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve had something called “Eidetic” – or photographic – memory. Anything I’ve seen, heard, touched, or experienced, I remember. It was a blessing when it came to studying – a curse when it came to relationships. But if you asked me what I was doing on April 17thwhen I was 13 years old, I can tell you exactly that. I took a test in school. Aced it. Had gymnastics practice. Fell off the balance beam three times. My father tried his very best to make spaghetti for dinner.

But almost immediately after my father’s death I started having flashes of new memories, ones that I didn’t know. I saw a boy, one with wavy ebony hair, bright blue eyes, and an infectious laugh. I saw him swinging from the rooftops in scarlet and green. And I saw him with a man dressed as a bat. I had no idea what this was. At first, I thought they were nightmares, horrible visions of a Gotham City already so far beyond saving. But accompanying those visions were feelings for this boy. Feelings like I’d never felt before; I felt warm and safe around him. But there was no record of a boy in scarlet and green with an “R” on his chest, or a man dressed as a bat anywhere in the history of Gotham City. Or anywhere in the world. Something was wrong.

And so I did what I do best. I threw myself into research. I cannot tell you, dear reader, how many countless hours I spent in the library or combing through web archives. Mythology, history, symbolism, vigilantes. I even contacted some of the world’s biggest superheroes, to see if they knew anything about what I was seeing. I never got a response.

Throughout this research, my visions continued. It was like the pieces of a massive, multilayered jigsaw puzzle were slowly coming together, even though I didn’t know what the end result would be. I saw new things, more vividly than before. I heard voices, aliases. I saw myself also dressed as a costumed vigilante running across the rooftops and felt that boy’s embrace. Even as a vision, he stirred feelings I didn’t know were possible.

And then, one night, I finally heard his name. Uttered from my own lips, if you can believe it. Dick Grayson. Finally, a lead beyond “Batman” and “Robin”. I cannot tell you how fast my fingers flew over the keyboard of my computer that night, searching every archive and tax record across the United States for the man named Dick Grayson. I couldn’t find one.

The last name was familiar, a circus act that had come to Gotham just after my father and I moved here. The Flying Graysons. The only reason I remembered it is because I had seen the news reports. They were performing a trapeze act without a net and the rope broke. The ringleader, Haly, had insisted that someone had cut the rope. So did a young boy. But police didn’t find any evidence of that. But even remembering the deaths of Mary and John Grayson didn’t lead me any closer to finding Dick Grayson.

So I hacked the Gotham Police files. It wasn’t hard; I had helped my father build part of the digital security system when he was still Captain. I found the case file on the Grayson deaths compiled, very sloppily, by Detective Bullock. At the very end of the report was a scrawled note, almost illegible in the copy scanned into the database. “Son, Richard, transferred to foster care. No living relatives.” It clicked for me. All this time I had been searching for “Dick Grayson” when I should have been searching for “Richard”. It didn’t take me long to find him.

Hacking into the foster care databases weren’t any harder than hacking into GCPD’s. I found Richard Grayson’s file quickly, a picture accompanying it. Those same eyes that I had seen in my visions stared back at me. I scanned the screen, eager for information on where to find the boy, now my age, who had haunted my mind. But his file was astonishingly small. A mere two months after being put into a foster home Dick Grayson disappeared, his body found floating in the Gotham River a few days later. The hit was a classic mob style, though no one was ever charged. I thought I had hit a dead end.

In my frustrations came more memories. Visions of rooftops and crime fighting and long nights spent together. And then memories of parties and galas. Those provided my next biggest clue. Because in each of those memories, ever present near Dick Grayson, was Bruce Wayne. Playing the part of the gracious host but with an air of seriousness that I recognized, even though I had only met the man a time or two in real life. That was when it all clicked for me. Bruce Wayne was the Batman. Or had been, in that timeline. Again, time travel is confusing.

So I made an appointment to see Bruce Wayne in his office in Wayne Tower. The meeting… did not go well. He had no idea who I was talking about when I mentioned Dick Grayson, said he had no recollection of any “Batman”, and very kindly asked me to leave his office. I was at another dead end. If no one else was remembering these things or having these visions, how would I figure out what was going on? How could I figure out what was missing from my life, where these memories were coming from?

The answer came from a very unexpected source.

About a week later, there was a knock on my door after midnight. I pulled out the gun my father had given me as an 18th birthday present for protection. Visitors didn’t drop by unannounced at my apartment. Ever. But standing on the other side of the door was Bruce Wayne. And in his hands he held a scrawled drawing of the Batman. The drawing, though amateurish, still contained all the details of the suit that had been haunting my mind. And I had not told him about any of it. Turns out that he had been having visions as well.

We spoke for hours that night. Neither of us slept. It was like one of those nights on patrol that had dominated my memories, but instead of hunting down criminals, we were hunting details from the recesses of our minds. The two of us began to realize how our lives were different from these memories in ways large and small. Oswald Cobblepot was not a criminal mastermind called the Penguin, but instead was the corrupt mayor of Gotham City. Former District Attorney Harvey Dent had been murdered by the mob just a few years before my father, never becoming horribly deformed as Two Face. And there was no mention, in any record, of a criminal called “The Joker”. We did, however, find his paramour, Dr. Harleen Quinzel. She’s the head of the Gotham University Psychology Department, and one of the most respected voices on mental illness in the entire world.

But it wasn’t just criminals. We also started figuring out nuances of our own lives in this alternate timeline, as well as those around us. We began remembering a boy named Jason Todd, who became Robin after Dick became his own hero called Nightwing. We looked him up, and I actually laughed out loud when I discovered he had become a priest, leading a parish in Blüdhaven. It was so unlike the persona we “remembered.”

We also saw a team of heroes protecting the planet, a gathering called the Justice League. This team had Bruce at the helm, partnered with Superman and someone named Wonder Woman. Superman generally operated out of Metropolis; even he didn’t come around Gotham. But Wonder Woman was a mystery. I felt like I knew her, just like I felt I knew everyone in those memories, but there was no record of her anywhere in our world.

That was it for the first night. Both of us were exhausted by the amount of new information that had been barraging us for hours. But we met again the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that. Each night, the picture of our alternate lives began to come together more rapidly, but we could still not figure out what event had triggered such a drastic change for us, for Gotham, and for the entire planet.

My first clue should have been how much different the Bruce Wayne in my visions was from the Bruce Wayne frantically writing new memories down on a piece of paper with one hand, a slice of greasy pizza held in the other. This Bruce Wayne held almost a carefree attitude not seen in my visions. He smiled. He laughed, though that was usually from the delirium at having been up for so many hours with far too little caffeine. Once again, the key to continuing down the rabbit hole came from his mind, not mine.

I can describe the moment vividly for you, dear reader. He sat bolt upright, color draining from his face in an instant and eyes widening more than I thought possible. His breath caught in his chest and solitary tears snaked their way down each cheek. When his azure eyes locked with mine, a new pain was present that hadn’t been there before.

“My parents…” he choked out, wiping away the tears. “My parents were murdered when I was a boy. That’s why…” Bruce’s hands frantically shuffled through his notes on the table until he found the scrawled drawing he brought the first night. “That’s why I became the Batman.”

And that was the moment the rest of the puzzle was revealed to me. As if he was sitting in my kitchen with me, I heard the words Dick Grayson spoke. “I have to save him, Babs. I have to save him from this lifetime of pain.” I saw an argument I’d never had, remembering the words like I was speaking them right at that moment. My worries about messing with the timeline, the damage it could cause. He kissed me and showed me the plans for a time machine he and Bruce had built.

“You thought it was a joke,” I told the Bruce sitting at my kitchen table. “You never thought it would work. You said there would never be a power source strong enough.” But there was. It came in the form of kryptonite crystals that Batman had hoarded in his Batcave beneath Wanye Manor. And with that, Dick Grayson had disappeared in a flash of light and wind.

That was the end of the visions. Rubbing his hands over his face, Bruce looked dejected. There was no way he could remember how to re-build that time machine, he said. For the first time in weeks, I smiled. This time the spark of inspiration came from my brain. Dick had shown me the plans in my memories. He had given me the way to get to him, me and my eidetic memory.

So we built a time machine. Not in the Batcave like before, but this time in a secret R&D lab at Wayne Tower. And the power source, those kryptonite crystals? It turns out that as much as things change, some still stay the same. Wayne Tech had been hoarding a small stockpile of them to conduct research. Bruce Wayne happily donated them to the cause.

We worked for weeks off my snippets of memory. I constantly worried that I had missed something, but test after test showed that, theoretically, this machine should work. And in that time I saw new visions. Not of a past life, but of the future. A possible future. One where Dick and I were happy, married with children. We had hung up the capes and cowls and found fulfilling lives keeping the world safe not as vigilantes, but as parents. It was those happy memories that have kept me going during these last long weeks.

As we finished inserting the power source and watched the machine hum with energy, I told Bruce that doing this would destroy the happy life he had. His parents were still alive now, still able to see the man their son had become. He smiled again and that nagging feeling that it was all wrong returned in the back of my brain. He said that if this world was the result of time being changed, then it was wrong. It was an aberration, he said, one we had to fix. If we looked around, we could see the ways time was trying to right itself, and Bruce theorized that eventually the cosmos would correct violently to get things back to the way they should be.

He wanted to be the one to head back to stop Dick, but I wouldn’t let him. For one, he shouldn’t be interacting with his younger self. For all we knew that could create a paradox that would fold the entire universe in on itself. But his visions had also never been as strong or as detailed as mine. It was like he was watching things on a screen, while they felt real to me. The emotions that accompanied them was too strong to ignore. And I knew the only chance to stop Dick Grayson would be to use that shared emotion.

I hope no one ever reads this letter, but if you do, spread it far and wide. This is not the way the world should be. And sooner rather than later someone, something, is going to come along and correct it. You have to be prepared.

So, dear reader, that’s why I’m heading into the past. To stop the man I love, but don’t even know. To save him from making a mistake that will destroy everything. If I can’t save him, then I’ll do what I must to restore the timeline. I only hope the damage can be fixed.

[tigermaskdan]

Dick Bag of the Week - Week 5 2017

When I started writing these things, I didn’t originally have a theme.  It was just me bitching about my fantasy football team, or the Colts.  But over time it’s evolved to include other things that I’ve been pissed off about, be it bullying or politics or pro-wrestling.  The Dick Bag has always been a bit of a loose structure for me to vent about things that bother in a humorous manner full of foul-mouthed hyperbole.

In that regard, much like how Peyton Manning could’ve won MVP every year he played (at least in Indianapolis), there are certain people that could be Dick Bag of the Week every week.  People that bother me perpetually.  Trump is the low hanging orange on that tree, but you could’ve guessed that.  People that say chipotle like “chip ‘ol tay”.  Fast food hacks.  Shit like that.

However, since the beginning of my “in-print” commenting career there has been one constant.  One man who has stuck to me and won’t go away.  He’s a sore on the bottom of your foot that never gets a chance to heal.  He is the chickenist of shits, and this week, I have a real reason to write about him:

Dickbag of the Week:

Mike. Fucking. Pence.  God I hate this human q-tip so much.  Look at that god-damned face.  That is the face he makes every time anyone mentions any policy that could be recognized as minutely progressive.  “Maybe improving low income benefits like access to phones and transportation would make it easy for people to find jobs.” That face. “You shouldn’t be fired for being gay.” That face.  “Maybe not deport people when they take their kids to the hospital.” That face. “It’s actually pronounce ‘chipot-lay’”. That face. That face is a wink to the camera to white males age 40-100 that think we don’t buy houses because we want to fuck avocados and think they know how to get around a city better than Waze. 

I’m going to say something I don’t I’ve ever said out loud, but that I don’t think is that controversial anymore.  The Republican Party is a scam.  The people at the top have one mission in life and it’s to keep theirs and other rich peoples taxes low.  Every other mission the people in charge pretend to care about: “traditional values”, “free racist speech”, “pro-choice of how automatic your gun is”, are only there to corral votes so that they can keep their taxes down.

That’s why a fucker like Mike Pence is so important.  Mike Pence is a golden goose for the GOP.  He’s a true believer in all the things I just said the GOP pretends to care about.  He lives to eat a modest slice of the cake a baker just refused to a gay person while sitting across the street from a condemned Planned Parenthood.  

“But Dan, you ignorant tepid glass of cat urine, you just said those at the top of the GOP don’t actually believe in those things, and Mike Pence is the Vice President.”

Well puss nozzle, can I call you puss nozzle? Yes, puss nozzle.  First off it’s Tiger Mask Dan when I’m in gimmick.  Second, I said people in charge of the GOP don’t believe in that stuff.  Mike Pence has no power in the GOP.  He’s the GOP middle manager.  He doesn’t make the big decisions, he just makes sure everything runs smoothly so that they can keep up their daily diet private jet trips and settling harassment lawsuits.

You need a guy like Pence if you’re one of the billionaire class trying to get middle America to vote for you.  Nobody looks at the Koch brothers and thinks they eschew strong Christian values.  But Pence does.  The Lord gives him strength to do anything other than be at a restaurant alone with a woman that’s not his wife.  He’s the guy that someone can point to and say “well Trump’s out there, but at least Pence is the adult in the room.”  Which is laughable considering he still calls his wife mother even when his kids aren’t around.

So come this weekend, our great and benevolent Vice President decided to use our tax dollars to come see the Peyton Manning celebration.  Whatever, fine.  He’s not the first, nor last Government official to use tax-payer dollars to go to a sporting event, I can deal with that.  

However, it became not cool when he left because some players kneeled for the anthem.  You know what would’ve made this farce hilarious?  What if nobody kneeled?  He was going to leave from the start.  That was obvious the second he left, but what if none of the players took a knee?  God, if only, I’d love to hear how Trump blames him for that.  You know he would.  He loves humiliating men of high stature in their communities for failures that are mostly his fault.

Anyway, if Pence had his little hissy fit walk out about disrespect for a flag that gets turned into thongs for his supporters then that’s his right.  Protests go both ways; if he’s stupidly offended because he took a protest the wrong way that’s his right.  However, when I have to foot the bill for his walk out to the tune of dog whistles, and then he uses it as a fundraiser blast to his supporters, that’s when I get pissed.

But what makes me the most pissed about this whole thing, is that in this one move Trump and Pence have successfully changed the narrative of the protest enough that Jerry Jones feels comfortable enough to threaten benching his players over doing it.  

The protest has been and always will be about Police Brutality and systematic racism towards minorities.  It has never been about disrespecting the flag or soldiers.  Like all protests, it has been about trying to draw attention to a problem in our country by making a statement in public.  NFL players have a powerful platform, and they are using it to draw attention to this national problem.  

But Pence has taken to call to improve America and re-framed it as hatred for for the country and those how serve it.

Trump does this all the time.  When everyone criticized his incredibly piss poor response to Hurricane Maria, Trump tried to re-frame criticism of him as criticism of people on the ground.  Nobody was ever criticizing the people executing his fucking frustratingly inadequate response, the were criticizing the fucking frustratingly inadequate response.  But his supporters ate that shit up, and they’ll eat this Pence shit up too with both hands.

So now Jerry Jones, the real commissioner of the NFL, has heard enough of his fans that have fallen for Trump and Pence’s phony outrage at brown people taking a knee, that he feels comfortable threatening benching players for doing it.

Now I’m just a guy out here.  I have no potential financial loss here.  That said, if you’re Dak Prescott or Dez Bryant or any of the many other crucial members of the Dallas Cowboys, call his fucking bluff.  Walk out there in the middle of the anthem and take a fucking knee.  See how he responds.  He’s the most powerful person in the league, but there are only so many people in the world that can play this game at a high enough level that people will keep watching.  

The Colts policy on the matter has been tweeted out as such:

Aside from the useless “UNITY” superlatives, I am good with this policy.  If this policy changes I’m done though.  I’ve overlooked a lot as a fan.  Transgressions of players off the field.  The various drug binges of our owner.  A league that has fought CTE connection research harder than tobacco industries have fought lung cancer connection research.  Jeff George.  But this is it.  I can’t support an organization that would look at a player and tell him, “shut up and dance monkey,” while their brothers, sisters, family and friends are getting hurt and killed without even a hope for justice.  

I can handle a lot of things as a Colts fan.  But I can’t handle us giving up a sack to Mike Pence.