#thinking he probably would not actually (he just wants him dead. he wants justice and peace and escape.) but if he did it would be there.

[edwinisms]

I know how it sounds at first, but I really gotta feel bad for the boys that sacrificed edwin; I mean even the term “sacrificed edwin” paints them in a more sinister light than they really deserve– considering that wasn’t really, actually their intention.

they were bullies, they were homophobic (and/or were self loathing gay boys themselves taking it out on edwin, or were equally likely peer pressured into acting a certain way), they planned something stupid and mean to do to an innocent, anxious boy with the goal of scaring the shit out of him, all because he was effeminate and an easy target. but they didn’t know or expect any of the ritual stuff to be real. they were all laughing and joking during the ritual because it was just that to them– a joke. a cruel joke, but a joke.

teenagers can be mean and stupid and they usually regret it as adults and grow out of it / grow from it. they were stifled the chance to grow out of it, at least while alive. none of those boys deserved to be instakilled and sent to hell; they’re really not that much less deserving than edwin himself. they were all just kids, after all.

[ofyorkshire]

thinkin' about............... vindictive, angry, vengeful bj.

[mid-nightowl]

So, the Batman in Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League may or may not have killed Robin

[radiance1]

When the Justice League heard of Phantom, they believed they had to act quickly. Based on what they were told by the GIW, a branch of the government they had no knowledge of previously (Batman is working to correct that), the ghost was dangerous and extremely powerful.

A ghost that terrorized a small town that they GIW have tried-and failed- on numerous occasions to send back to the Ghost Zone. The GIW wouldn't have come to the Justice League for help if it were just that, but based on what they have claimed Phantom has achieved an inexplicable rise in power after having met with the King of ghosts himself.

If what they say is true, then ghosts could potentially invade and cause an all-out war with humanity that the Justice League would rather much avoid thank you.

Negotiations for peace or understanding have been repeatedly rejected and the GIW has been led to believe that Phantom has done something to the Fenton couple. The leading ecto-biologists in the world, years of research suddenly wiped clean off and acting much more cordial towards the ghost.

A complete 180.

So much so that you could even claim them to have been mind controlled. Which isn't outside the realm of possibility due to ghosts having an innate ability to overshadow others and control them.

Perhaps even the entire town has fallen under Phantom's control. Even another ghost, who had just been recently opposed to Phantom, has fallen under his control.

So the Justice League had to act fast.

---

Danny was fucked.

He could tell that very, very well. He still didn't have his entire new... dragon thing... under control very well, mostly sticking a half human like form. His powers were stronger yes but he couldn't really control them well.

Which is kinda why he's fucked.

Danny has never heard about the Justice League before, mostly because he had recently found out that apparently Amity Park was isolated. Like, extremely. Basically it's own little world cut off from the rest.

So when they appeared with the GIW he thought, hey, maybe they were finally changing their white suit shtick.

He didn't expect them to be extremely well-trained, have supernatural abilities or magic. Along with their usual tech well.

Yea.

Danny was fucked.

And he was very, very scared.

He's already died once but that didn't mean he wanted to die again, and he knows that he would probably be heavily experimented on if the GIW actually got their hands on him.

He was alone. He was surrounded. He was outnumbered. And he was oh, so very scared.

His family and friends had already fallen (thankfully not dead, just unconscious he thinks) and Vlad was occupied elsewhere, also fighting.

So Danny was alone.

No one would be coming to help him.

So what did he do?

He opened his mouth and did something he didn't do often. Despite that he could see that they somewhat recognized what he was about to do and tried to find cover.

Danny wasn't aiming at them.

He pulled his head back, mouth aimed at the sky.

Danny wailed.

It was waaaay more powerful than he had originally thought, so he was glad he aimed it at the sky.

As soon as it was over he felt drained, swaying on his feet and trying to use his tail to steady himself and not fall off his own claws.

They didn't know what was happening.

Danny just hoped it worked.

---

Neither the Justice League nor the GIW knew why Phantom shot one of his most powerful attacks up into the sky, but they did see the opportunity it presented.

Phantom was weak. Looking like he would fall off his own feet and fall unconscious.

They had to act quickly.

But before they could, from right where Phantom had wailed into the sky.

It cracked.

And continued to crack.

Until a large hole appeared in the sky, leading into a dimension of endless green.

The Infinite Realms.

They believed Phantom was trying to retreat.

They were wrong.

Two roars came from the portal, forcing everyone to cover their ears.

Then.

Something came out of the portal.

A long, serpentine dragon flowed out, flying around the area of the crack before descending down and around Phantom.

Then.

A giant claw grabbed onto the edge of the crack. Pushing against it until it broke, forcing the hole bigger and bigger as a much, much larger dragon stepped out. Standing protectively over the serpentine dragon and Phantom.

A large crown wrapped in flame floating about its head signified its status.

The Ghost King.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 7

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“I’m having a child.”

Danny stared at Batman.

“…Uh, congrats?”

Batman whips out a stack of paper and a pen. “It’s you. Sign here and initial the highlighted spots.”

Danny instinctively, from years of dealing with Vlad, whacked the stack right out of Batman’s hands and into the bay. He doesn’t even feel bad about littering this time because, “Begone, fruitloop!”

Wait, no, that’s not what he meant.

“I mean- I have parents!”

“Not for long.” Batman muttered and then did a double take. “You have parents? How?”

Danny gasped, placing a hand on his chest to clutch his metaphorical pearls. He ignored Batman’s mutters. Everyone knows the vigilante has an adoption problem. At least, everyone who lived in Gotham did, as everyone who didn’t was somehow convinced that he “worked alone” or some bullshit like that. “Are you naturally this insensitive or were you dropped on your head as a baby? Obviously I had to come from somewhere.”

“They’re still… alive?”

“And kicking,” Danny said, inching away from yet another rich weird guy trying to adopt him. “Mostly the kicking part, though.” He said, remembering the sparring sessions. His mom could kick his as six ways to Sunday with nothing but jiu-jitsu and still have time to work in the lab.

“I see.”

“I’m charging you extra for the emotional upheaval. I have trauma regarding rich people trying to adopt me.”

Batman sullenly handed over a thousand.

“Sweet. There’s a group of shades down here asking if you could find their murderer. Apparently the serial killer is still at large.” Danny pointed.

“Of course. Tell me everything.”

The adoption papers disappeared as Batman went into detective mode.

Danny shoved the cash into his glowing chest and breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to make rent this month so it was a windfall running into Batman.

——

“Hey, Tim?”

Tim woke up from his Power Nap. “Huh?”

“Phantom’s complaining that Batman kept trying to adopt him.”

Tim blinked. “Uh.. what does that have to do with me?”

Danny stared at him, a patiently amused smile on his face. “Just in case the rumor about the Wayne’s sugar-daddy-into the Bats was a thing. Other than that, we might have to confront Batman to get him off of Phantom’s back. ”

“You… want to confront Batman.”

“Hey, man, Phantom’s a friend and it’s ride or die.” Danny snickered. It was literally die, with his Phantom side of things. He held two fists up, and wound them, like Popeye right after eating spinach or something. “And if Batman bothers Phantom, we ride at dawn.”

“Batman doesn’t come out unless it’s dark, though? Or for the Justice League.” Tim grinned. He mentally classified Danny under his “to go to” list. That’s where Bart, Bernard, Cassie, Kon, and Garfield were. If he starts shit, he could count on them to have his back and cause even more shit. Danny, wanting to fistfight Bruce over the man making Phantom uncomfortable? He absolutely is making that list.

“Then we ride at, like, dusk. Or uh, like 10PM. I gotta get my beauty sleep.”

“You’ll definitely need it,” Tim inconspicuously texted the group chat, which quickly blew up.

“Shut up,” Danny playfully shoved Tim. “Wait, can Batman even legally adopt? Isn’t being a vigilante illegal? And how can he adopt someone dead?”

Tim dramatically flailed and splayed over Danny’s carpeted living room. “Dunno about his identity,” he lied to Danny, like a liar. “But Gotham has a bunch of laws for the undead/restored to life people so there’s probably enough gray space there.”

Danny spluttered. “You guys have undead friendly laws?”

“Yeah, geht do you think Grundy just chills out? Plus, we have like a minor resurrection event every few years. It usually doesn’t stick but sometimes it does. Bruce pushed for those laws when Jason came back to life, except he doesn’t actually want people to know he’s like, alive.”

“Jason died?” Danny blinked. Well, that would explain the vibes. “Huh. So what’s up with his rank vibes then?”

“Rank vibes?” Tim pressed record on his phone.

Danny nodded. “Yeah, you know how Phantom’s got like a really chill green vibe?” Inwardly, Danny snickered at his pun. Chill. Yeah, he meant that very literally. “Jason’s got kind of a rank green vibe. He’s kind of stinky? Definitely never introduce him to Phantom.” Danny’s senses got worse in his ghost form.

“Jason regularly showers, though?!”

“Not smell! Like, a spiritual smell?”

“You can smell souls?!” Tim sat up. “Bro, you’re a meta?!”

“Uh.” Danny hesitated. “Yeah. I can smell souls. It’s a thing. Everyone from my town can do it.”

“What?!” Tim paused. “Wait, can Phantom smell souls?”

“Yeah. We’re, uh, from the same town.”

“Danny, what the fuck?”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, you’re the one with a soul-sick brother! Not to mention, you’re kinda stinky too!”

“Hey!”

“Soul-stinky nerd man!”

——

“I stink?!” Jason spluttered out, extremely offended.

“The Lazarus pits. He’s most likely smelling traces of Lazarus pit on you, you imbecile.”

“We need to speak to Phantom. This instant.”

“I dunno, B. Danny sounded like he was gonna break your face if you bothered Phantom anymore.” Dick snickered.

“Yeah,” Tim chimed in, from his seat in front of the Bat-computer. “He was pretty serious.”

“Are we just gonna glaze over the fact that they’re from the same town?!” Stephanie exclaimed, practicing her moves on a training dummy.

“How does that even work? What does that mean? I thought Phantom was an immortal?” Duke asked.

“We also can’t rule out time-travel.” Barbara slammed her baton into a training dummy, twisting her wheelchair in an agile maneuver that left the dummy on the floor.

“No bothering Phantom.” Cass proclaimed.

“That’s quite right. You all have a warm dinner sitting above your cave and should it remain uneaten, I assure you that sherbet Sunday and crêpe Tuesday shall be canceled.” Alfred stepped in. The Bats, threatened, scrambled to ditch their gear and go upstairs.

[flamingpudding]

Triple Identity Crisis

Danny had a problem. If it was a big one, he couldn't tell yet but he was partially sure Clockwork was at fault for this. Or at least he wanted to blame his ghostly godparent who most likely just wanted to cause some chaos for entertainment with the pretext of helping Danny. Which was a very likely reason for why Danny had a problem right now.

As it was the former Fenton now Fenton-Wayne boy was pacing his room in the Manor trying to think what is next step should be, because as it was his 'new' family –Did new still apply if he was living with them for a little more than a year now? – knew him under three different Identities now. And to top it all off they were not aware that the three identities were all pretty much connected as one.

For one. His family, knew him as Danny, the space obsessed kid, who became a meta because of his ectobiology science obsessed parents and his teenager recklessness. A kid that was actually a genius if you gave him enough time for school and could make you anything out of a ancients be damed toaster. That was the Danny they mainly knew. The Kid they took in, let in on the family business and then chose, to the happiness of Alfred and dismay of some of his 'new' siblings, normal life over vigilante life.

Then they knew Phantom. A dead ghost hero that was helping the Justice League and Young Justice to help them deal with the aftermath of the huge fallout caused by the GIW, Guys in White or rather Ghost Investigation Ward. And while Danny didn't know he had apparently worked with nearly his entire family and that time he knew it now. Which was awkward because he had pretty much pestered one of his elder brothers about his condition until Red Hood, aka Jason, let Phantom help him. Ancient, things might get awkward if that secret is lifted. He had done a lot of things Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Robin had scowled him for. Thankfully they only thought of him as a dead teen hero and didn't know what a Halfa was. So they didn't make the connection, and he had yet to meet Signal, aka Duke as Phantom.

Now came the third identity, which totally did not happen by his choice. After all officially he hadn't accepted the throne yet and would only get it once he was dead dead not half dead. To bad ancient texts don't care about formalities. So when trouble hit the fan really hard the Justice League Dark had the bright Idea of getting some other worldly help. Which in other words was summoning the Ghost King. Oh boy, was it fun to learn that way that Danny could get summoned against his will. Clockwork did not give him that warning when he told him about the future of his afterlife. But best of all? Oh he doesn't get summoned as Phantom which would have made things maybe a bit easier, oh no. Life wasn't easy. He got someone's in some as a super weird black-green mass of a formless eltrich body with sharp teeth, claws and glowing green eyes with no pupils or irises. Hell Danny even scared himself when he saw his own reflection in a window and he didn't have a single idea how to change his form.

Let it be known that Danny acted then on purpose like he didn't know a single person in that room he had been summoned in right out of his bed and that he wasn't staring at his adoptive father like he needed help who interpreted his stare as the ghost king sizing him up. And Danny knows this because Dick had a good laugh about that at the dinner table with the rest of his siblings.

Now a smart person would probably come clean to his family and explain to them the three identities they knew him under and how they are connected.

To bad Danny wasn't 'smart' when it came to things like that. No in his panic and newfound awkwardness of the situation of what he had done on separate occasions with his identity as Phantom AND Ghost King, he decided to keep acting like he didn't knew them personally like the truely does. Really how hard could that be? Besides he liked the way his family treated him now. He didn't want to get treated differently because he was half dead, or a Ghost King. He liked that his family was treating him as plain old Danny who had an obsession with space and was their quirkily little brother with powers.

So that gave him even more incentive to keep the act up. Even if it was hard at times, especially if he got summoned out of nowhere. It would be easier if he could get a hang of the duplication power. He even had played with the thought of getting one of his ghost rogues to help but his family was perceptive. Maybe not perceptive enough to realise that all three identities were one and the same person but they would notice if Danny acted just slightly different or if Phantom was more of then usually. But somehow he still managed to keep it up.

But it was the hard way that he learned, Danny was bad at doing the 'talking' and realized that maybe Jazz was right and he was going to slip up one day causing huge misunderstandings like right now.

He stared down at Batman and Nightwing in his Ghost King form. Red Hood had his guns pulled on him, Wonder Woman and Superman looked like they where going to try to pull back Batman any second now while Nightwing, maybe at first was going to try to calm down the bat but Danny was pretty sure the eldest bat kid was now fiercely glaring at him too. He was also pretty sure the only reason he didn't see Red Robin or Robin threaten him too was because their super friends were somehow holding them back. For their own or his safety he doesn't know at the moment.

Because apparently the Bats did not fear fighting otherworldly beings to protect one of their own.

"What did you just say about Danny Fentons death?!" Batman grunted out and Danny just knew his adoptive father was glaring at him. Ancients Danny cursed his brain to mouth filter right now. As he had the collective hero scene before him staring at his Ghost King form. Would this be a good or bad moment to come completely clean or maybe he should find some kind of philosophical bullshit of 'All things death belong to him'....

[hello-eden]

I have a whole diner Au planned out

Danny owns a diary for the dead, the liminals, and other magical creatures

It started off as a way to feed weaker ghosts ectoplasm so they would be able to succeed being in the infinite realms and then after a while just turned into an actual diner to feed the people

Like demons ,fae, gods or goddesses they all go to Danny's restaurant

At Phantom's Dinner you can pay for your meal with physical money, diamonds, runestones, anything even including soul contracts that's how Danny ended up getting all of Constantine soul contracts

I want Constantine to find out in Justice League Dark growing up there to demand by Constantine's soul

After busting and every being there finds what they did very disrespectful so Justice League have to wait to get a table get seated at that table

Only server that's would like to actually serve them is Klarion and he wears a diner uniform that's always changing different colors in a pair of roller skates he's the only one that's willing to deal with the Justice League

And why he's doing so he's also got to bring with the regulars about like their humans and stuff like talking about the new Bruce Wayne rumor like they're all just gossiping with each other about the human world

After a while Dr Fate demands to see Danny and they find out that Danny is like the 17 year old boy who decided to open up a diner for the Dead, The Liminals, and The Undecided

I just find the idea of Danny owning a diner and then hiring Klarion and the rest of his friends to help him run the diner also the fact that he immediately as soon as he gets Constantine he sometimes asked him to be busboy when work service is really high and they need dishes clean

I hope you like my idea I love your Talia as Danny content so much

╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯

I love Klarion working there. Sam probably works with sourcing ingredients.  half of the Justice League probably thinks Danny is an Eldridge being with an undetermined age and the other half thinks he's a kid with good intentions.

I love the idea. Thank you :)

[wolvesroampastelgalaxies]

Edit: All chapters up on tmblr & ao3 :p

Okay, so I got alot of hits on my last FoP:ANW ficlet. Which had me re-reading it frequently. So instead of healing, I desperately wanted to fix this situation. I think I am genuinely affected that Timmy isn’t the MC anymore.

My child hood = 💀

Anyway, I made a continuation kinda. I’m much better at introspection than writing out actions (I think). So if this piece is not of the same quality as the last. Lemme know, I really wanna do this concept justice. :p

On a Wing and A Wish 🪽

 I wish Timmy Turner got back all the memories of his fairies and could be apart of his family forever.

    “What is this?” Dev asks, “Whose Timmy Turner?”

  Peri harshly shushes him, hovering in close while darting his eyes around Dev’s room.

    Begrudgingly, the kid whispers, “What’s the deal? No one is here. What. Is. This?”

  This - was a note looped with periwinkle ink on what was balled up paper. Peri couldn’t believe what he was doing. Sneaking behind his parents’, and worse, the Fairy Council’s back, asking his own god-kid for a wish. He never thought to go through with it, even if he did frequently imagine the outcome. But it was the one thing he’d wanted since his brother left.

  No. Not left. He forgot. They made him forget. He never left us.

  Never left me.

  He sighs, resuming the usual distance. Dev can finally breathe in air that’s not Peri’s cologne and takes in his god-parent’s appearance. The fairy did not look good. Usually quaffed hair was flat and tussled, like he forgot to shower then tossed and turned all night. Which, ew, he probably hadn’t showered or poofed himself clean or whatever fairies do based on the pit stains. Sweat was also causing clammy hands that were attempting to wring themselves dry. His usual calming, lavender eyes were bloodshot from what he could tell. Well, when they weren’t searching for a haunted house jump scare.

    Dev waves his arms, “Hello? Earth to Peri!”

  The beat of wings is audible as Peri jumps a foot higher in the air.

    “Are you broken? Can fairies malfunction?” Dev gets a dimmadome idea, “Do I get a new one if you do?”

  This absurd question has Peri descending from the (literal) high level of anxiety to a level of annoyance. That level being eye to eye with his god-kid, where purple and blue begin a standoff. If there was a movie in the pinpricks of their eyes, it would reflect a tense western gun fight. Peri would have a wand at his holster and Dev would be there, arms crossed and smug as can be. His mouth loaded with the bullet 'I wish…' and Peri would be dead on the dusty road.

  A wing and a prayer is the saying. He had wings, he just needed the prayer.

  Or a wish.

  Peri surrenders, realizing picking a fight will not work in his favor.

    “Fairies can’t grant their own wishes.”

     The ginger scoffs, “That’s it?” He thought his fairy was dense, but he didn’t realize Peri was actually challenged. “Just, have another fairy grant your wish.”

  Rather than meeting with some Peri-fonted, copy-paste of Da Rules, Dev saw as his god-parent open and close his mouth. Pale lips pressing in a thin line. His small body seemed to curl in on itself, shielding not from Dev, but the irony of what he had said.

     Without looking at him, Peri said, “They can’t. It’s not how it works. Only a god-kid can make wishes.”

  The hitch and crack at the word 'can’t' did not go unnoticed by either. Peri flinches. He had spent all week wrestling with the notion. It was only last night that he had scribbled the note down. There was nothing in Da Rules about another kid wishing for someone to not lose their memories. His mom was right, there are a lot of loopholes.

   Peri had hoped and hyped himself up enough that being a godparent would fix him. If he could recreate it, he wouldn’t feel the dreams of his childhood each night turn to mourning. Deep nostalgia for a time that seemed imagined rather than the most impressionable years of his immortal life. Hijinks among his and his parents’ god-kids flooded him with memories. Waves of jealously crashed down as Dev and Hazel shared their youth, times they’ll have forever.

  Peri could not live eternity drowning.

  The human boy felt awkward, it never occurred when he wasn’t the most grieved one in the room. Dev knew, though not consciously, that grief was not just losing someone. It was being lost yourself. Each day happened, it was not unnoticed, but it wasn’t remembered.

    “Well….what would I even be wishing for? I was taught not to sign something before reading it, err wishing.”

 Peri’s wings flutter briefly. Was Dev considering it? What was he supposed to say? He gathers himself as much as he can to stop shaking from nerves.

    “Timmy Turner is someone really important to me. Like, he’s kinda the whole reason I exist.” He pauses, waiting for Dev’s reaction.

    “I thought the green fairy was your dad?”

    “No, not like that. Although, I guess he did wish for my dad to get pregnant.”

    “Your dad was WHAT?” Dev shouts but Peri is quickly on him again, hand pressed tight over the kid’s mouth. Dev only briefly struggles to push him off, dramatically gasping for breath.

    “It’s complicated okay? I just, it would mean everything to me, to my parents, if you could wish this.” Peri interjects before Dev can close curtain on his overreaction.

     Cutting a glare that isn’t so much as throwing the knife but threatening to, Dev straightens himself. “What’s in it for me?”

  Whatever miserable feelings Peri has disappear into steam when he reddens from frustration at the kid’s incredulousness.

     "'In it for you?!' You literally have anything you have ever wanted at your finger tips. You have ME! A fairy! With an endless amount of wishes. There is nothing I can’t give you if you want it!” Peri hisses. He might pass out, all the breath pushed from his lungs at this nightmare of a child. He takes a deep breath.

    “It’s a favor. I’m asking a favor Dev.”

  The kid did feel a little stupid saying that. It was such a habit. He’s never been in a situation that wasn’t an exchange. It’s not like Peri was going to stop granting him wishes if he said no. And besides being less annoying, there was nothing more the fairy could do if he said yes.

  Dev sighs, he knows he’s going to make the wish.

    “Do you know why kids get godparents to begin with?” Peri’s tone is drained of any animosity. It sounds hollow, like an echo instead of the real words.

  He isn’t sure if Peri is looking for an answer, but Dev is still feeling sheepish after his own selfishness.

     “No...”

  Fairy eyes are known to have a slight shimmer in their iris’, as if they held infinitesimal pieces of glitter. Dev hopes that it’s just the light magnifying the effect in Peri’s and not him on the verge of tears.

     “Because life isn’t fair. When life isn’t fair, kids get fairies. The fairies stay until life gets better or they grow up. But,” he falters then, a strained attempt at composure, “but they always forget.”

  He flutters down onto the side of Dev’s bed. Wings mirroring his melancholy as they droop. This is not a reserved sadness, it’s not something you can leave till nightfall, not anymore. Not now that he has to face it every day, worse that’s of his own volition. It’s a lonely feeling that twists and winds itself so tight he can’t stand it. Something had to be done.

      “I just can’t forget.” And there is a tear now, one he hopes his god-kid cant see with his head bowed.

  Hesitantly, Dev sits down. It’s rare for them to be on an even level when he’s not hovering. Peri is so small compared to the 10 year old, who feels like moving an inch might shatter his fairy.

      “Was he your first god-kid? Is that how, fairies like, reproduce or something? You run out of fairies for kids and when you need more you just…..your dad?” Dev can’t decide between disgust, curiosity, or confusion.

  Peri chuckles, plugging any leaks he has with a sniffle. He guesses he’ll get a few awkward questions on that later.

    “Eh, no. We grew up together. He’s kinda like - he’s my brother.” The statement is the only solid thing he can cling to. That one simple fact.

  He’s my brother.

    “I know it doesn’t make any sense, and it’s a lot to go over. But I promise if you do this for me, I will explain everything. Anything you want to know.”

  There is another thing that makes Dev feel like an idiot, and that’s his dad. Anytime there might be a sliver of a chance for him to pay attention or choose Dev over some money scheme, Dev falls for it every-time. A swell of hope and admiration fills his chest and then he’s getting the breath knocked out of him when, surprise, he’s never his dad’s choice. Peri was right about life not being fair. And it doesn’t just seem unfair for humans. But, if he got a fairy to even it out for him, maybe he could try too.

  Besides, he was going to-do it anyway.

    “Hey Peri?”

  He rubs his eyes with his sleeve for good measure and gives a mosaic smile of all the shattered hurt inside.

    “Yeah kid?” 

  Dev takes a breath.

    “I wish- “

[brucewaynehater101]

Jason takes Damian w/ him to Gotham and accidentally gets them both scammed into becoming Tim's Fake Uncle and Cousin

Jason is getting dragged into actually caring for this diaster of zero-selfcare kicking and screaming

Damian has latched onto his cousin big brother

The Bats are hella sus about Tim's so called family, especially with his Uncle who showed up only after Red Hood did

And Tim is feeling his heart break as he goes through with the plans to illegally become a premature 18 year old with a fake identity, false paper trail and get an income, then go back to seeing Robin only through his cameras

Only after reuniting Jason and Damian with the bats, and the whole family (alongside Young Justice) have their fotting settled enough that his loss won't be felt emotionally or mentally, of course

. . . Why are you looking at him like that?

Based on the fake uncle fic "Say Uncle" by Megaerakles

Oooh! The "Say Uncle" fic but with Damian too? That's brilliant!

The basic background is that Tim is Robin, his parents are dead, and he doesn't want to be adopted by Bruce. He's looking for an actor to play as his uncle so he won't end up in the system either.

There's a few ways to start this AU. One, Tim posts an ad or something, and Jason, who needs to pay for Damian's welfare, figures it's an easy enough job. He asks if he can bring his kid, and Tim ends up creating a cousin too. Tim figures it will help solidify the identity a bit more.

That, or Tim is looking for an uncle and, while out and about, stumbles upon Bruce's dead son grown up and what looks like a mini copy of Bruce. Seeing that neither appear to be trying to contact Bruce, Tim sighs as he figures he'll have to be the one to bridge that gap.

Damian, at first, will be suspicious about Tim. I think, in order to get them to bond, he shouldn't know about Robin. He thinks Tim is a regular civilian, and Jason is asking him to practice "civilian etiquette" with Tim. It goes better than expected because Tim, who is not a regular civilian, shrugs when a ten year old threatens him with a sword. It's Gotham.

Damian, expecting a regular civilian, ends up slowly finding out that Tim knows quite a lot about weird skills. He knows how to throw the batarangs that Damian found on the street (Jason does too, but Damian expects that). He knows how to hack, how to spar, and how to dismantle traps. When Tim finds out that Damian is interested in learning traps, he starts to bring back stuff from patrol.

Tim also let's Damian keep a few animals in their place (dealer's choice on whether they live at Drake Manor or at a new place).

Jason figures out pretty quickly that Tim is Robin (the kid keeps coming back with injuries). A combination of Tim being a wet paper bag for survival and him getting close to Damian endears Tim to Jason as he reluctantly becomes fond of the Placeholder.

Tim feels peace and comfort from these people who are probably Bruce's sons (maybe he even takes their DNA to test). Despite that, he's slowly building himself an identity that would stand Batman's scrutiny and an escape plan for when the others are ready to speak to Bruce and Dick and Alfred.

Perhaps Damian stumbles upon these plans and, after becoming a part of the Waynes, decides to stop them. He straight-up asserts to Tim that he doesn't know how to act and that Bruce will kick him out for being a murderer. Tim just has to stay behind to help Damian integrate with the family.

This buys the Waynes enough time to prove they actually do want Tim around.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

CONSUMED by dadsbestfriend!Price rn

He and your dad served together when they were both younger men, boys really, and they fought side by side for years before your dad packed all that in and decided not to renew his contract - leaving for a white picket fence life with your mum and you

You’ve never gotten to meet him before, but you feel like you kind of know him anyways because of the stories you’ve grown up hearing. He’s always been like a kind of figment of your imagination, someone your dads always spoken highly of in all of his tales from drunken weekends and adrenaline spiked firefights, he’s like some kind of mythic hero haloed in beer fumes and musing looks that get shut down when your mum asks if they both got themselves into any trouble on their latest gambit

Sure, you’ve seen pictures, you know what his face looks like, vaguely anyways. Apparently he has mutton chops now, something your dad is ‘always shocked by’ when they meet up now. However the pictures don’t do him justice. You realise that quickly after you do lay eyes on him.

You go over to your parents house, summoned for an early birthday dinner for your dad, and that’s when you see him. The man, the myth, the legend is cosied up on your usual spot on the corner couch, at the end of the short side with the chunky red tartan pillow barricading the hard brown couch arm. He turns when he sees you staring directly at him, meeting your gaze with a raised eyebrow.

The pictures didn’t really encapsulate how big he was, how broad his shoulders were as they took up an expanse of the chair back, how expressive his eyes were as they rover over you, how nauseatingly good he looked when ripped out of the confines of ink and paper and pressed into the lumpy old sofa you’d never been so needy to jump onto before.

Every little overworked neuron in your mind was busy exploding while you pictured tugging on his hair and beard and moaning out filthy things for him.

“You must be the kid,” Price observes, not knowing how much it would sting you, “how’s the head?”

If you weren’t aware of how childish it would be you’d huff that you were far from being a kid anymore.

“How’s my what?” Part of you wants to quip back that it’s ‘great- it comes recommended’ but then the sane part of you kicks in and thinks ‘perhaps don’t get yourself kicked out just as you’ve gotten in the door’

“Your dad showed me that charming little photo you stuck in the family group chat from the party last night. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree by the looks of it.”

Your face would flame up like a radiator in the dead of winter, you were just about spluttering and hissing like one too. You’d forgotten all about the drunken selfie you’d sent while in a full haze of peace love and a couple draws of your friend’s j after countless rum and cokes. ‘Love u guys, see ya tomoz’ you’d typed over it - remembering how you fumbled and squinted at the screen just so that it would be halfway coherent. Now sober, you knew it probably wasn’t.

“Fuck me, it actually sent,” you grumbled, jumping when you hear his earthy laugh tumble out.

His voice is like tree bark and honey, stolen straight from the mountains and imbued into his throat. You hang on his every sound, keen eyes glued to his plush pink lips that Peak out from under his beard.

You hardly notice your dad coming in until he’s all but shouting your name, wrapping you in for a bear hug you weren’t in the slightest prepared for.

Every response form there on out was hazy, as if it had been preprogrammed. For the entire night all you’d be able to focus on was John - He’d tell you to call him that after awkwardly addressing him as Sir, though not before something dark slithered over his eyes and passed in the instant it had come.

You’d spent the whole night fixated on John, hanging on his every word, sighing heavily when he reached back and combed through his hair, tousling it to a point that made you wonder if that’s how it looked after a night well spent in passion.

You were lucky you got through the dinner without making an arse of yourself, though to be fair your mum had gotten a jab in about how quiet you’d been. Better that than being embarrassing.

Though you weren’t to get away unscathed. It’d get late and after spending the whole night before fanatically talking and dancing, you had no energy left for being at your parents - present company included or not. However before you could call a taxi, Price would jump in and offer you a lift, claiming taxis were far too unsafe for someone so precious.

It’d make your parents laugh, but you weren’t even smiling. You’d stutter your excuses, telling him he didn’t need to make a fuss, but he’d be persistent. Being an army Captain and all, he was very difficult to argue with, so of course you found yourself in the passenger seat of his monstrous car, watching nervously as the old beast sputtered to life.

“Is this thing even legal to ride?” You’d mutter, frowning at the persistent choking noise that rattled underneath the engine roar.

“Could ask the same about you.”

It was barely a whisper, almost lost to the growl in his throat and the sound of the engine, but you were so sure you’d heard it said nonetheless. The possibility of it sent your back stick straight and your mouth plummeting to the floor, though in the back of your mind you wondered if you’d only heard him say it from out of the depths of your subconscious.

“Excuse me?” You’d chirp.

“I said: couldn’t get you to pull up some directions, could you?”

He’d side eye you as he said it, smiling to himself as he indicates and pulls out onto the road and out of the cul-de-sac.

Right. Directions, of course. You were just being filthy minded, you’d had a long couple days and you were strung out and tired. Why would he insinuate that he wanted to know if you were the right age to fuck or not. Especially when - even if you were by many measures - he was off limits to you. Forbidden. No go. Like the battle zones he probably waded into through his day job.

“Here you go. It’s not far!”

You’d pull up your phone, placing it on the dashboard so that he could see. He’d tell you to put on music too, shocking you when he’d produce an aux cord (by rights this car shouldn’t have even had the words aux cord uttered in it, but somehow it supported one).

“What kind of stuff do you listen to?” You’d ask, waiting to hear whatever dreary nonsense he was likely to come out with.

“What do you think I listen to?” He’d ask, barely paying attention to you as he made his way down the main road. “I’ll be happy with whatever you put on.”

“I mean i doubt our tastes are super similar.”

“You trying to drive at somethin’ here, sweetheart?”

You’d light up at the name, lighting up from the inside out in quiet awe. It’d be a challenge having to suppress your little firework show off happiness, so you’d hide it by shrugging and saying “figured you’d listen to old man music.”

He’d shake his head and grumble about ‘no such thing’ up until you put on an old Killers song and watched him smile - then you’d sagely nod your head and repeat ‘old man music’ delighting in his playful growl.

“Killers ain’t even that old sweetheart, at least stick some Dylan or Cash on if you’re gonna patronise me.”

“This came out in 2004, dude - I don’t know what to tell ya. It’s old.”

“Dude,” he’d grunt back. “Earlier it was Sir, was it not?”

You’d flush again and face the window, suddenly absorbing yourself in the outside world. The way he said that was far too…inviting. The no go zone was looking like the ‘get right the fuck in here and stomp all over your parents relationship with this man’ zone.

You couldn’t help yourself.

“Sorry, sir,” you’d tease. “Won’t happen again.”

Stupid insatiable brat, you’d inwardly curse, watching as Price’s smile widened again, pulling his whole face into a knowing grin.

It’d be clear to see you weren’t the only one fighting the urge to cross the barrier and take what you wanted. And with two people smashing at the confines…well.

One thing was for certain, you knew it in the pit of your belly, there was no way you were going to stay away now.

[direquail]

My specific read on John is not that he's a nice guy, either. It's that, like any good character (specifically a tragic character, which, TM has said that he is modeled on a mythical tragic hero, so) he has a flaw that dooms him. And what that means is, when he has the choice to change what he's doing, that flaw either prevents him from taking the option he's aware of, or prevents him from being aware that there is another option altogether.

And so as a writer, what I look for are moments where either:

something good about a character becomes an excess that harms themselves or others

we receive information that shows a persistent blind spot a character has

we look for times when a character gives their view of the world/a situation and it Does Not Match Up with reality, or is hinted that it doesn't

we look for evidence of something simmering under the surface that clashes with their outward, agreeable presentation

What fills that role for John?

Yep.

When this first pops up, it's pretty easily dismissed as yet another layer on the falsehood he's propped up. Admittedly, he's been doing it for ten thousand years, so it's probably got a few layers to it.

However:

This one, to me, gives us a hint about what John is blind to: That his friends see his vindictiveness and his failings and that they could still love him. This is where it crosses into tragedy, for me; where his own inability to forgive blinds him to the capacity that other people have for generosity--and so, to a world where "justice" means more than "vengeance for the dead".

And this illuminates the whole chain of events that leads him to that climactic scene in Harrow the Ninth, telling Mercy that she never would have forgiven him anyways:

John is, at heart, deeply angry--like most characters in the series, and like a lot of people who grew up in poverty, especially if they managed to escape it. He also has some deep sense of justice, and deep sense of judgment.

So we have this cycle of related emotions and ideas: Justice, judgment, outrage. And a human measure of selfishness, amorality, double standards, etc.

In one situation, this allows him to throw himself completely into the cryo project, something that (if it hadn't been sabotaged politically) could have made a difference to humanity. He brings in people who work to make it even better, who demonstrably want to make the outcome as just and humane as possible. It's also implied that this is part of why he received those powers; "I chose you to change."

(And, I'll be honest, one of the other things that I see that chafes me is the implication that there was nothing about John to recommend him to the Earth. I'm actually of the opinion that there was; she chose him, and I don't think she just rolled a d100 or drew a card off a tarot deck and called him up. John is also still a human, flawed person.)

Then, the situation changes. It's no longer an issue of dedicating expertise to solve a problem; this is a political issue, and specifically of rich people using their resources to shift outcomes towards the one they think will benefit them the most, that will secure their survival, explicitly at the expense of everyone else.

And their strategy is, profoundly: short-sighted and unnecessary (pooling resources would help create a better outcome for everyone, including the rich, by reducing global trauma and preserving more of the systems that already structure their world); bigoted and uninformed (many rich people think that the world has to be a certain way, generally that the world is violent, competitive, dog-eat-dog, etc., and someone has to be "on top", and there will always have to be a loser, or lots of losers); and utterly cruel, unjust, and pointless.

And John--John, who grew up poor, who grew up aware of the despair around him and the injustice of his position and more than likely made use of that anger to achieve what he had up to this point--John is so angry.

Because they're all the same. They're all the same. It's the same song, over and over again, no matter how stupid and pointless and unnecessary. He is certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it doesn't have to be this way. He passes judgment.

But John is losing to them, because he doesn't have the resources they do. He can hate them and fight them all he wants, and it doesn't matter, because he's nowhere near in the same league as they are politically.

And then, after the cryo project is cancelled, he gains his powers.

The thing about anger and judgment is that the deeper it runs, often, the more invested the person who holds that anger in themselves is in not seeing what they hate in themselves. E.g: John has conceptualized the people he's resisting as fundamentally unjust, cruel, amoral, and bigoted. There's a very good chance--to different degrees, depending on the person--that becoming aware of similar traits in himself might wake up those feelings he has towards those other people--aimed at himself (that is, cognitive dissonance). He can't see the things he's passed judgment on in himself and function. He's not like them; he's trying to fix things, to bring about justice.

Of course, there's justice as in "living in a just society", and justice as in "justice for the dead". But that's a later realization, because right now, everyone is still alive.

So John hides those parts of himself; from himself, from other people. So thoroughly he can exclude it from his consciousness and pretend it doesn't exist. He thinks no one sees the real depth of his own rage, his own cutthroat pursuit of a solution. And then, when he can't pretend it doesn't exist, he can still pretend to be the man he thinks they need him to be. He can "fool" them. He can say--he's trying. He screwed up. He doesn't know what he's doing.

And then, Casseiopeia says, No, actually, we know you, and we know you're horribly vindictive. And we're on your side--we're on the same side--our fight is your fight--and we love you. But your drive for revenge is seriously limiting your ability to imagine and create a living, just world, and that's what we're fighting for. Remember? That's what we set out to create.

And John's brain can't quite handle this; he can't imagine that they could actually see him and still be on his side. Because he couldn't see that and still be on his side. He can't forgive; he can't imagine forgiveness.

He can't see the things he's passed judgment on in himself and function.

And, by this stage, in some ways, it's already too late to change course. But this is one of several "come to Jesus" (no pun intended) moments where John could become aware of alternatives, or could change his behavior--and doesn't.

And I think this is where we get that self-awareness from, the thing that makes him creepy and tragic but also infuriating: He is aware, but apparently that's not enough to stop him from being his worst self--so is he just pretending to be moral? Capable of making different choices but choosing not to? And the weird statements he makes later:

This is, imo, not a power-hungry dictator who genuinely doesn't care about the cost of his throne, or a gleefully predatory abuser. This is a dude who's committed to a course of action and doesn't feel great about it. This is a guy who has violated his own sense of justice and has to live with it.

This is a guy who set out to save the world, killed it, and now the only thing that's left to him is to avenge it.

And like, from a mythology standpoint, that is exactly what the Erinyes are, like the Furies and Alecto. They are not the justice of Apollo or Athena. They are screaming for blood. They are hunting their quarry to the ends of the universe. They are chthonic.

Again: This isn't what Cassieopeia or Christabel said to him. This is what John has said to himself. This came from him. This is a reflection of what he believes.

And it encapsulates, exactly, why he erased their memories. Why he took away their agency.

The difference between him and many, many people is he had the power of a god and no one to check him when he was struggling with his own worst impulses. And then, he created a world where no one could, not just because then he could do what he wanted and pretend to be kind and loving and moral, but so that he would never have to lose the love of the people he needed.

Because, unfortunately, he still needed them.

It just took ten thousand years for the lie to unravel.

[cosmerelists]

If the Stormlight Archive Novels Were Rewritten From a New Perspective...

I'm thinking here of, like, a Secret History type thing where the same events that are detailed in the regular SA novels are rewritten from the perspective of a character who didn't previously narrate them. Like a fun little set of novellas that Sanderson could probably write on his coffee break or something...

[Warning: Big Stormlight Archive spoilers throughout!!]

1. Way of Kings...as told by Sadeas

I don't think we really got any POV from Sadeas in Way of Kings, since that would have spoiled the whole "planning-to-betray-Dalinar" thing. So I think it would be pretty nifty to see those events from a Sadeas' POV. We'd get to see what kind of info was filtering up about Kaladin and Bridge 4--like, what DID Sadeas think when he heard that the random bridgeman tied up in the storm survived? What was the scene like after Kaladin's side carry ruined that battle and Sadeas decided to execute the lighteyes in charge?

And what was Sadeas' inner monologue like during his every interaction with Dalinar? I want to see Sadeas and Ialai plotting before every feast, and then hear Sadeas inwardly rolling his eyes while pretending that he's just working for the good of the kingdom, totally not undermining Dalinar, nope nope.

And I'd love to see Sadeas' thoughts during the scenes post-betrayal with, like, Navani coming into Sadeas' camp to set fire to the giant Justice glyph and Dalinar showing up to trade his shardeblade for the bridgemen. Give me the Sadeas/Ialai scene that evening plz.

2. Words of Radiance...as told by Renarin

Here again, we have a book where a POV must be omitted in order not to spoil the ending: in this case, the late-book reveal that Renarin is a Knight Radiant as well. And I'm sure I'm not alone in wanting to know what that whole book was like for Renarin!

How and when did Renarin meet Glys? What was the bonding like? How hard was it for Renarin to put on his armor & grab the screaming shardblade to join the 4 v. 1 duel to save his brother? Give me the angst of Renarin being convinced there there is something wrong with him, that he literally cannot fight the way he wants to even while he becomes a Radiant.

And um, what about scrawling the words on the walls during his dad's visions? I still want to know just how Renarin pulled that off without being noticed and also what the hell was he thinking?? I'd like to see him grapple with the angst of being a prophet in a world where that's sacrilegious, yet trying to pass the message anyway.

And just as a tiny note, does anybody else remember when Dalinar, Kaladin, and Shallan are having their We Are The Knights Radiant meeting at the top of Urithiru and then Renarin just like appears out of the shadows to be like "me too?" I kinda want to again know what he was thinking, lurking behind them literally all the way to the top before revealing himself at the most dramatic moment.

Anyway. I bet we'll get some of this in the Renarin book in the back half of Stormlight -- or at least, I hope so!

3. Oathbringer...as told by Jasnah

I bet you all are seeing the pattern here, ha ha! I think Jasnah's POV is restricted in Oathbringer because (a) she's supposed to be dead and (b) she knows about the humans being the actual Voidbringers and that can't be revealed immediately. But in a retelling, I'd love to see her tell-all.

What was that journey to Urithiru like with Wit? If we could get some flashbacks to her time in Shadesmar, that would be great, even though that's technically WOR again.

What was her inner monologue interacting with Shallan again? We know how it was for Shallan (suuuper awkward), but what did Jasnah think? What was it like to get to see Urithiru after she'd spent so much time researching it?

And it would be super interesting to get more of the relationship between Jasnah and her cousin Renarin. Like, when did Jasnah figure out that Renarin's spren was corrupted? When did she decide to kill him?

I think any and all extra Jasnah POVs from this period would be fascinating.

4. Rhythm of War...as told by Rlain

I was torn as to whether to have Rlain for Oathbringer or for Rhythm of War, but ultimately went with the latter. To be fair, we do get Rlain POV sections in ROW, but I want MORE.

If I remember correctly (it's been a minute since I last read ROW), we get a lot of Rlain's narrative from other characters' POV: like Kaladin or Venli interacting with Rlain and hearing about what he's been up to. Like "Oh yeah I've been spying and I found these maps" or "Oh yeah I've been working here with your family for a few days" and I want all of that to be told in long-form narrative please. ESPECIALLY Rlain hanging out with Kaladin's parents and little brother. I can't even remember anymore if him and Hesina being best friends is canon or fanon but I'd like to see it, plz.

I want to see more of Rlain being a spy, his angst about being in between Listeners and Humans, and his double agent heroism. I'd like to see more of his thoughts about Venli, maybe some flashbacks to his interactions among the Listeners back in the day.

And while I don't know if Renarin and Rlain interact at all really in ROW, I'll take any and all of Rlain's thoughts on Renarin and any scrap of interaction that could be woven in.

5. Bonus: Any Book...as told by Hesina

Honestly, I think a Hesina retelling of any of the 4 books would be awesome.

Way of Kings? We're gonna see the family interactions and the Roshone conflict from Hesina's perspective, not to mention the probably horrible aftermath of both of her sons being sent to war and then dying.

Words of Radiance? Uh...honestly I don't know what Hesina was up to during the events of that book but she had baby Oroden and I bet she was doing other stuff too.

Oathbringer? We get to see Kaladin's return from Hesina's perspective--Lirin was grumpy about him being a "killer" now, but I seem to recall that Hesina had awespren around her.

Rhythm of War? Let's see the move to Urithiru, settling in, her teasing Lirin about him worrying that surgeons won't be needed anymore... Plus, PLEASE give me Hesina's perspective on Kaladin's actions, on the invasion, on her very real and deep friendship with Rlain!

Yeah!

[mal3vol3nt]

Hi. You’re probably tired of seeing me dump stuff like this. (I’ll try to make this the last time). But I have to vent to someone. Because I see this one guy, claim to not hate Aang, only to villainize him to a ridiculous extent, acting like he’s unempathetic, forcing Katara to tend to his emotional needs and this user completely downplays Aang’s genocidal trauma. Not to be rude, but how much of a heartless prick do you have to be to invalidate genocide and the trauma it can cause. These fake fans should honestly keep their mouths shut about this show, they clearly don’t understand it.

the southern raiders episode needs to be freed from the zutara fandom i swear. i’m fully convinced they never actually watched that episode cause it literally ends with katara saying she still didn’t forgive yon rha and aang accepting that. he literally says “im proud of you”. it was never her anger at the man that aang disagreed with, it was the action she planned on doing—murder—that he wanted to talk her down from. not for yon rha’s sake, but for her’s. so even though she didn’t forgive him, aang respected that and was able to recognize the strength and validity in her decision. i’m so tired of repeating this rebuttal to this stupid as fuck argument

aang doesn’t force her to do anything in the entire series. katara has her own agency and free will to do as she pleases and not a single character has ever taken that away from her, and the one time where her freedom was threatened (by pakku), she fought for it and ensured she got her way. when yall say aang takes her agency away from her, you’re also ignoring the core traits of katara: her fierceness, her determination, her ability to recognize what’s right for herself, and her sense of justice

she never blindly follows or takes direction from anyone. when aang tried telling her and sokka to stay put while he made the trip to see roku in the fire nation, katara (and sokka) put her foot down and refused to listen. she demanded that they go with him, and he accepted them making that choice for themselves. when sokka tried convincing her to leave after she met up with haru and they had the chance to escape from the fire nation ship, she refused and said she wasn’t abandoning the rest of the earthbenders. her decision was respected by both aang and sokka. in fact, there are so many instances of her making her own decisions regardless of what anyone else says that it would be impossible for me to list them all. she never succumbs to what aang or anyone else wants, and she always makes her genuine thoughts on an important decision known. katara does not need anyone to tell her what to do nor does she allow anyone to tell her what to do. this is the same girl who single handedly changed the “no girls allowed” rule in the northern water tribe after having been told “you can’t do that”. yall think she would let aang walk all over her??? please put some respect on her name

now this may be a controversial take but i don’t care it’s the truth: comparing sokka and katara losing their mom to aang losing his entire culture and people is actually insane and insensitive but not for the reason zutaras think. its because absolutely nothing any other character went through can compare to what aang did, and to diminish his tragedy by saying katara’s trauma surrounding her mom’s death is somehow worse is actual insanity and i need yall to go to prison LMAO

katara did not witness her mom get murdered. that only happened in natla and i refuse to acknowledge that. she ran out of the tent to go tell her dad that a fire nation soldier was with their mom and when she came back, the man was gone and kya was dead. still insanely traumatic, but she was not literally standing there watching as kya burned to death

that’s literally what happened with aang. from his perspective, he had just seen gyatso only a few hours ago. gyatso was alive literally moments ago in his mind and then he was greeted with his decayed skeleton among the bodies of unwelcome fire nation soldiers. just like katara experienced insane whiplash from that heartbreaking change, to see someone alive only to come back to them gone, aang went through roughly the same thing

the only difference is aang didn’t just lose gyatso, he lost all his friends and mentors as well. and he didn’t just lose all his friends and mentors, he lost every single person who looked like him. and he didn’t just lose every single person who looked like him, he lost everyone he had grown close to and seen from the other nations. and he didn’t just lose everyone he had grown close to and seen from the other nations, he lost the animals native to the airbending temples. and he didn’t just lose the animals native to the airbending temples, he lost the native plants as well. and he didn’t just lose the native plants, he lost the structural beauty and integrity of the air temples. and he didn’t just lose the structural beauty and integrity of the air temples, he lost the ability to practice his cultural customs with others. and he didn’t just lose the ability to practice his cultural customs with others, he lost the ability to bend his native element with others. and he didn’t just lose the ability to bend his native element with others, he lost the time to mourn for all that he lost

i’m sorry to those of you who wanna believe your favs have suffered more than anyone else in the series, but none of their tragedies compare to aang’s. and i don’t believe in downplaying what the others went through to support a fandom narrative, but this is literally just me acknowledging the severity of aang’s story. to suggest any one else has gone through more is to be ignorant and nothing anyone can say will ever convince me otherwise

only reason yall think zuko or katara or sokka or toph or azula or whoever the fuck else is more tragic than aang is because all of their traumas are more relatable to the everyday person whereas aang’s is something that most people can’t even comprehend

[grimalkinmessor]

MP100 Characters Ranked on How Likely I Think They Would Be To Use The Death Note:

(because I like combining my hyperfixations ✨)

Mogami. I don't think I have to explain this one.

Ritsu. He is going on a killing spree IMMEDIATELY the boy practically IS Light Yagami, his name is literally spelled with the kanji for justice and he already went on one power-hungry crusade, he is RIPE on the Kira tree og

Dimple. He already has the god complex down, he just has to get on board with the whole killing people thing—considering he's already an evil spirit, it wouldn't take much convincing tbh

Shou. He would cause SO much havoc with it but only for fun. For the meme. For the vine. He kills the Queen of England with it and cackles as he watches the ensuing flood of Megamind memes. He would also threaten his dad into compliance with it because the Death Note isn't Battle Based, it's Instadeath. "Ever go on TV and embarrass me like that again and you're going out by dysentery."

Takenaka. He's not a bad kid, but being telepathic would make him incredibly susceptible to wanting to take bad people out before they did anything wrong. Plus just getting them to shut up. That idiot that keeps having vivid erotic fantasy in the middle of science class has ONE more again before Takenaka would embrace his villain arc whole-heartedly. The only reason he's this far down is because I think he'd hesitate.

Tsubomi. I think she'd kill someone just to see if she could get away with it. Then she'd put it away and only bring it out when certain situations arose that needed a Quick Solution™. That girl knows what needs to be done and she does it—she decisive. Anything like Suzuki happens again and she just drops them dead on live television Lind L. Tailor style and then goes on about her day like nothing happened. All heroes wear pretty hair clips 🙏

Tome. I don't know how to explain this one. Vibes. She feels like she'd be gripped by the powerful urge to kill someone but it would take her a lot to go through with actually writing someone's name down. She'd want to test the Death Note first to see if it worked, so that's one person down, but anyone else would need to have either hurt her or her friends irreversibly, and even then it would probably be a one time thing. She'd use it far less than Tsubomi—two people might actually be her max.

Serizawa. I hc that people with psychic powers can see the Death Note's bad jujus or whatever, so he wouldn't have to test it to know it would work, but I still think he'd use it. If he found it while he was still with Claw, he'd use it because it was easier to kill someone that way than with his psychic powers. Even if it he found it after Claw, it'd be the same reasoning. He's definitely killed people in the past and if someone hurt his friends or his mother he'd very much take the easy out of simply writing down a name rather than going for a fight. He'd still feel really bad about it though, so it'd probably only happen once.

Minori. She uses it to see if it's real, finds that it very much is, and then locks it away in her room. She won't use it, but it'll be a constant thought in her mind. A very real temptation.

Emi. She uses it once out of curiosity to see if it's real, then buries it in the woods where no one will ever find it...but she can go back for it if she ever needs it.

Hanazawa. He's reformed but his temper is still something to behold. He's only this far down the list because he's got that "I could kill you with my powers why would I need a book to do it for me" swag ✨

Shimazaki. Similar to Teru but less reformed. "I would just kill you with my powers why would I need a notebook" two electric boogaloo. Plus he's blind and idk if the Death Note takes braille or morse code.

Toichiro. The ULTIMATE "I'll just kill you with my powers I don't fucking need that thing"

Shinra. He wouldn't use it, but he'd absolutely make the mistake of picking it up and handing it over to someone that WOULD use it (cough rising sun psychic division cOugh)

Onigawara. Talks big shit about using it, but would never. Likes to think he COULD use it though, even though he's too upright for it.

Reigen. Picks it up out of curiosity and gets a laugh out of it, but doesn't test it. He's seen enough shit to be cautious though, so he has Mob look it over and then burns it once Mob confirms it's got bad vibes.

Mob. Sees bad vibes. Doesn't even pick it up. Blasts it into ash and goes home without thinking about it again. Buys milk on the way there.

[thatflatenedfrogontheroad]

I made a tier list...

please make your own!! I need to see boomer nations opinions on our man!!!! I know the tiers are actually so vile so change them if you desire :)))

OK so my quick blurb on why they are their!! (working worst to best)

28. Identity Crisis #5 - HE WOULD KILL ME FOR THE FUN OF IT. It did bring about the most random rivalry between Tim drake’s fandom and boomer's which is very funny

27. Black Lantern - Oh no… he's back… like a boomerang. Ate his own son... RIP…. L skill issue

26. Sliver Age - Would actually call me a slur and say that I don't deserve rights. He would hate crime me and then solicit me for sex. He looks like he's wearing a dress… what a pretty lady.

25. Flash TV Show - EWWWWWWWW, he though he ate...

24. DC Online - He looks like he would punch me in face at a NYC bus stop

23. White Lantern - Don't look at me like that… stop. He's back from the dead like a boomerang?? Something about most of the New 52 boomerangs don't hit the same. the bride all in white :’)

22. Young Justice - Gave me the ick. You might be thinking... he looks identical to SS hell to pay, why is he down here?? Great question… HE WAS SO CREEPY TO ONE OF THE GIRLS IN YOUNG JUSTICE….. WHO IS A MINOR!

21. Injustice Movie - Just because your in the background… doesn't save you from this list!!!

20. New 52 - Ok he's kinda hot if you look through your peripherals…Why are you wearing skinny jeans… you millennial

19. Harley Quinn TV Show - He's fine… just fine. “We’ll stack out bingo… Boomer loves an older woman” NO HE MUST LOVE ME! I AM VERY VERY MATURE FOR MY AGE

18. Flash: Sins of the Father - Can you please stop talking in the 3rd person… you are starting to sound crazy.

17. Most Wanted - I know jack shit about him. That's probably because he is barely in a comic issues THATS NAMED AFTER HIM!

16. Flash Point Paradox - His fight scene actually ate. I'm a sucker for Boomer being with the Rogues. If cyborg can take his belt off… so can I

15. Suicide Squad 2021 - Wow they somehow gave him even less lines than his first movie. 1. He doesnt look like boomer. 2. His accent is so bad… and hes AUSTRALIAN 3. His acting low key kinda mid 4. They killed off two of the only OG suicide squad members they had on the cast 5. He dies in the first 20min and in the most disrespectful way

14. Suicide Squad 2016 - The only good thing to come from this man is the fanfiction he brought. THIS FUCKING MOVIE MADE HIM A CANON BRONY WHICH I CAN NOT FORGIVE. GET THIS OUT OF MY SMUT BEFORE FREAK THE FUCK OUT >:( Fuck him and pinky too, you son of a bitch!!!! (its not that serious lol... i just want him to stop fucking a toy horse... please guys)

13. This Goober Alien Guy - I know nothing. He just kinda showed up… and I'm not mad just a little confused. He looks like he needs a hot chocolate and a hug :)))) 

12. Lego Batman Movie - Low key an icon. What I would do to get my hands on one of these sets… I would come close to killing someone for it

11. DC Lego Super Villains - If he wasn't Lego I would propose (Shane Dawson style) Once again what I would do for the very discontinued Lego set tie in…

10. Batman: Brave and The Bold - Those cheekbones could cut someone. Why are you wear a mini skirt… take it off ;)

9. Suicide Squad (comic) - Yes I know he was drinking and driving but he's not real so it doesn't count!!! The beginning of the Boomer Mobile! THE GAP TOOTH DUDE!

8. Justice League Unlimited S1 - AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Ok the hairline is… bad…. But so is mine twin!! I LOVE THAT THEY GAVE HIM PROPER CLOTHES AND NOT RAGS DUDE

7. Agent of Oz - is this picture is my school profile pic...yes… and??HE'S COVERED IN BLOOD AND IM GIGGLING!!!!!!!!!!!

6. Stjepan Sejic's Boomer - Choke hold and choke me...  I want to hear his voice but he can't break his mewing streak…The ungodly things I would let him do to me

5. Dark: Apocalypse War - Constantine! Boomer! GIRLS! GIRLS!! ILL SLEEP WITH BOTH OF YOU!!! I was not expecting him in this movie so I started to freak out when he showed up DUDE. PLEASE LET ME SIT ON IT

4. Suicide Squad: Hell to Pay - I'm a ride he wouldn't survive… I DONT HAVE WORDS TO DECRIBE HOW I FEEL DUDE… I WOULD DO ANYTHING HE ASKED FOR NO JOKE. Dead on the floor

3. Justice League Unlimited S2 - The glow up in REAL... had me on my hands and knees as a 3rd grader… and still on my knees today. I have never wanted someone to fuck me in the back alleyway of a shit bar so bad in my life

2. Batman: Assault on Arkham - The one that started it all… he is the reason I am this way. no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom BUT GREG ELLIS IS PUBLIC ENIME NUMDER ONE. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID!!!!

AND THE BEST ONE!!!!!!!! WE ALL SAW IT COMING

1. Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League - I AM GNAWING ON THE IRON BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!!!!!! He has it all, the face, the VOICE, the look, the character!!!!! It is hands down the most consistently good representation of captain boomerang out their… and its canon that's he has a big dick :D I would sell my first born to get one night…

Thank you all for reading this word vom, I am sick in the head <3

if any of the comic issues are off or something please let me know :)

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make your our and tag me!! i need to see them <3<3<3

[britcision]

AND NOW: Part Two! One might think I would look at the fic at some point and check what chapter we’re on, but I will not! Mostly for “but that takes effort” reasons but also because by the time I get back here I WILL have forgotten!

Part One of this chapter:

First Chapter:

———————

Well You Did Get Down On One Knee (part 2)

Tucker, Conner, and Tim had actually gotten through another round of Spiderheck in between the rabid buzzing of Tim and Tucker’s phones. 

Conner had the good sense to mute his and toss it behind the couch… after sharing the “good news” of Timblr with the Young Justice chat. Without which his phone probably wouldn’t have been buzzing at all.

He regretted nothing, despite Tim’s alternate pouting and threats. Tucker was pretty impressed, and pretty sure that it wasn’t just for the guy’s good looks this time. 

Finally, after the fourth time Tim’s ringtone changed itself and blasted at full volume (making Tucker completely drop his controller), the Black tech gave up, sighing heartily and dropping his head into his hands. 

Not least to hide the sudden wicked grin on his face as an idea struck. Because yeah, sure, he could help Tim try and unhack fucking Oracle on the sly, or… they could remove the distraction another way. 

(Tucker wasn’t a thousand percent ungrateful for the distraction; he was pretty sure even without the merry buzzing of his social life burning down around him he’d have had a hard time concentrating on the game. 

It just plain wasn’t fair; Conner was too fucking hot, and so earnest, and excited when he was doing well! All the little shouts and exclamations, the broad grins, Tucker was really beginning to doubt his own demisexual nature. 

Although, to be fair, it wasn’t like he actually wanted to… interact while Conner was being cuter than Cujo with a rubber bone. Just. It was hard to think about anything else when he could be appreciating all… that instead. 

At least while Tim’s ass was being blown off by at least three separate group chats, Tucker’s floundering was less embarrassing.) 

Tim gave him a consoling pat on the back while Conner whooped in victory, probably trying to comfort Tucker in the loss. Tucker let him for a moment, running a couple quick calculations in his head. 

Because yeah, he’d never got around to asking Danny to ecto infuse any of the Waynes’ tech; not the batcomputer nor the gaming consoles, but. Well. They’d played for hours the last two nights, and it wasn’t like Tucker had never gotten his hands through a console’s innards. 

It had to count as knowing the device, right? 

And it wasn’t like it was that hard, doing it for just three people. For just one game. 

Looking up at the other two, he gave them both a slightly shyer grin. 

“So, like… I know we’re having a good time and all,” he began, and Tim groaned theatrically as he was interrupted yet again by his ringtone. 

“I’m about to ask Superboy to toss this thing into space,” he grumbled, glowering at his phone. 

Conner reached innocently towards it and Tim snatched it back up immediately. Tucker settled back once it was safe too, grinning sheepishly even if it wasn’t his bluff Conner called. 

Conner tipped him a wink and Tucker had to clear his throat and give his head a quick shake to clear his blush. 

“Right… yeah, uh, anyway. What if I had a better way to get us away from distractions?” He asked as innocently as he could, staring at the screen instead of that far too attractive face. 

He could still see the other two sit up from the corner of his eye, both looking interested. 

“We’re not allowed to game in the Bat Cave,” Tim said quickly, with a resigned air that said the question had come up before… and enough disappointment that they’d probably done it and been caught. 

Which, yeah, thinking of the size of the screen in the cave, Tucker suddenly really wanted to try that too. 

Already banned though. And he and Danny were already on thin enough ice with Batman as it was. 

Reluctantly dismissing the thought, he returned his attention to the present moment, grin spreading as he turned to face Tim directly. 

(Tim was safe. Tim was, objectively, a very handsome young man and Tucker could appreciate that in a distant way, but being pretty was just so much less interesting that almost anything else about Tim. 

Tucker could worship him through a distant computer screen, so the pretty blue eyes weren’t much of a distraction. Looking at Tim face to face was really cool, but Tucker would be more tongue tied watching him code.) 

“Sure, but you remember I told you about my technopathy? I can interface with machines I know really well,” he added for Conner’s benefit, accidentally looking over in time to preen as his face lit up with interest. 

Tim, for some reason, stifled a snicker. 

“Yeah, you mentioned. And that it was a little more complicated, but go on,” he prodded, and Conner shot him a look that Tucker was gonna have to ask questions about. 

Later. Once he was done showing off a little. And, probably, getting his ass kicked at Spiderheck. 

Tucker Foley was a master of video game controls, sure, and that sorta helped, as did “knowing you’ve been thrust into a video game”. He just didn’t delude himself into thinking it’d be enough to counter the actual literal battle training of superheroes. 

But hey, maybe having all those extra legs would fuck them both up for long enough that he’d win a few rounds. 

“Well I think you might’ve already noticed, but I know this game really well.” 

** 

Danny was doing his best to keep a cheerful face on things, especially the weird shit. 

It had been a while since he’d had a nasty new halfa surprise of his own crop up (although he didn’t dare hope he’d had his last; that would surely bring something on), but he still remembered how it felt. 

How overwhelming, how hollow and intimidating the world could be when you were learning that you really knew almost nothing about yourself. That at any time, your body could do something totally out of your control. 

Something you might not be able to handle. 

He’d felt the fear in Jason, deep and bright and smothered a second later, but not before Danny felt it. 

At least he could be here for the other guy; he wasn’t going to be going into the whole mess alone. Danny would make sure of that. Understandable as his reservations about reliving his death were, they would face it together, and he had to hope that might help. 

Possibly with Jazz too, when it was actually time for that first transformation. Danny hadn’t even really started coping with dying when he’d first changed, and he’d been dead less than a minute; it had almost been part of the rebirth process. By the time he’d had to do it for a fight, he already knew what would happen.

For Jason… well, it had been a while, and even Danny could see he’d not done much more than paper over the cracks with bad ecto induced rage and carry on. 

He was trying not to let Jason see how much he worried, but had a feeling it didn’t matter. Jason was plenty worried already. 

Good news was… well, there wasn’t much good news. It was going to suck, no matter what, and if they didn’t do it in controlled conditions it’d be fucking awful. 

But they did have some controlled conditions, and better yet? Probably wouldn’t be a problem for at least a couple more days. 

As little as Danny wanted to talk about the whole… mess that was Jason’s death, Jason himself was all about the detailed planning. Back ups of back ups and all that. 

It probably came with the Batman training. 

(The mad compartmentalising totally did. Danny had spent enough time with Bruce in one single car ride to be sure about that.) 

For the moment, he gave Jason as much support he could; contact, a reassuring aura, and a smile whenever he could, and absolutely no oogling of his mostly naked body while they were doing the checkup. 

(Jason had mentioned a pit-related growth spurt last time, and this close Danny could see that the scars all over him were interspersed with stretch marks. Now that he actually looked the difference was super obvious; the different colour, the creasing where they indented the skin. 

Danny definitely wasn’t thinking of licking them to see if he could feel the texture. 

Or running his fingers over bared skin, which was admittedly less intimate than the licking thoughts he totally wasn’t having, but also seemed kinda more a betrayal. Because Jason wouldn’t question Danny touching him, but Danny would have Nefarious Motives. 

Of. Textures. 

But it was totally fine because he wasn’t having any of those thoughts at all.)  

He just wished he knew what had caused that sudden panic attack Jason had earlier; it had come almost from nowhere, a wave of black and crushing dread that froze Danny’s already-iced core. It filled the room, filled his lungs, and would have cost him everything to not respond. 

Part of him had wanted to shove Jason fully inside himself, store the much larger man in the hollow of his chest so that nothing could hurt him. 

(And Danny could, technically, kinda do that. Jason didn’t have to be that much bigger than him, at least while Danny was in ghost form. Ghost form was all about self perception and, well, raw power. 

Looking like his twink ass self was a deliberate choice, and one he’d never regretted until it meant not curling Jason into the infinite curls of his tail and protecting himself from the universe as a whole.) 

Danny was super great at boundaries. Yup. One thousand percent completely normal about them. 

But he’d been able to wrap his aura around Jason anyway, because that wasn’t a freakishly massive monster form that would freak him out further. They’d helped him calm down, helped him breathe, and Jason seemed… 

Way too fine, frankly, even his aura had cleared, and Danny trusted that about as far as Sam could throw him. Bat-level compartmentalizing, for sure. 

That was gonna get real weird when the more emotionally regulated ghost powers kicked in, but Danny was gonna cross his fingers and hope that it made Jason’s transition easier, not infinitely more fucked up. Jazz would be intolerable, for one thing. 

Most of the rest of the appointment went well anyway; bar the surprise “Congratulations On Your Soul Bond” news (which he would not be thinking about too hard until he couldn’t possibly avoid it), it was pretty much what they’d expected. 

Jason was doing good, Danny was gonna need to work around classes tomorrow maybe for another trip, and there was just the teeniest chance Jason’s fully formed core would manifest like, physically. 

Shockwaves had been mentioned. Danny now had questions about how much of his original death light show had been the portal itself opening. Ones that could never be answered, but hey. 

If/when Clockwork showed up, Danny was gonna prioritise Jason’s soul contract over his own curiosity for purely friend related reasons. 

Danny didn’t like soul contracts of any sort at the best of times, unwritten ones that put a friend into his service? Yeah, maybe he was feeling just a little vindicated that Jason could see what he’d been freaking out about now. 

Now that it was too late, but Danny was technically the Ghost King and Clockwork’s boss, so even if he couldn’t fix the whole mess until his coronation, it wasn’t gonna be a problem-problem. 

If Clockwork tried to use the contract to push Danny into accepting his coronation more quickly, well, Danny had a real good win streak of fighting ancients in his pocket. And he’d double never get coronated if they spent the rest of eternity playing cat and mouse for Danny to beat Clockwork’s ass, so. 

Not that Danny believed Clockwork would, really. The Observants? Abso-fucking-lutely, he’d be swinging before they finished a sentence, but Clockwork genuinely seemed to care. 

He pruned the timelines with the ruthless efficiency of a gardener, but always to make the best outcome. The one where the least people got fucked over. 

He’d absolutely fuck Danny over in the service of getting that best outcome, but Danny was also pretty sure he’d feel bad about it if he did, and that Clockwork would and had chosen to believe in him over his predicted outcomes more than once. 

Danny trusted Clockwork. 

Of course, now that he wasn’t trying to hide and actually wanted to see his mentor and regent, the bastard was nowhere to be found. 

All jokes about the “Ever-Moving Now” aside, they weren’t directly making for Clockwork’s tower; the only way to find it was with Clockwork’s permission, so Danny didn’t usually bother. As a kid they’d thought they could stumble across it and surprise him, but these days? 

Danny knew better. And Clockwork wasn’t exactly subtle; his lair had showed up around the very first metaphorical corner when he wanted Danny to come in once too often. And hadn’t been anywhere to be found when Danny searched, only to show up beside his fucking portal home. 

Where it definitely hadn’t been on his way in. 

It went where Clockwork wanted it, when he wanted it there. Danny totally wasn’t jealous. 

It had been a while since he’d bothered hiding from Danny though; these past couple months, just being in the Zone had netted him an unwanted visit from his regent. Danny was beginning to suspect Clockwork wasn’t actually all that keen on ruling the realms, and was just planning to fob the job off on him. 

Which, y’know, fair. Danny wasn’t exactly thrilled with it either. But it was his job as Danny’s mentor to protect him from this shit, right? 

Now that Danny actually wanted to see him though, of course he wasn’t around. Which probably wasn’t actually a bad sign, or that he’d done something he didn’t want them to know about. 

Clockwork was just a cryptic asshole, and apparently Jason had used up all of his “getting clear answers” cards in their first meeting. If only Danny had ever gotten a single damn one. 

There was one other detour Danny wanted to make while in the Realms, but… today didn’t feel like quite the right time. Jason had already had a fucking day of it, and Danny didn’t wanna dump any more on him. Even if Ghost Writer’s library would be a nice trip for Jason, it was something they should talk about first.

And… probably ask Ghost Writer about first too.

If Danny ever remembered to do that.

So they’d thanked Frostbite, gotten Jason a bag of ecto ice chips (Danny wasn’t allowed any, it was totally unfair because he needed an energy boost too! But noooo, his core was “stabilised” and “complete” and he needed to “sleep” and “eat” for energy like a pleb. Unfair!), and agreed to come back as soon as Jason’s core stabilised. 

Danny figured he could always come back on his own for a visit to Nocturn. That was gonna be a whole ass emotional mess; Dan was technically in the database Tucker had handed over, but Jason hadn’t mentioned it yet. Danny didn’t know if that meant he didn’t know, or was just being actually tactful. 

He wasn’t even sure what he actually wanted to say yet, how to ask for what he wanted, and he should probably do this right. Nocturn hadn’t challenged him again since he’d become king, and had actually been super helpful so far, but… well, the spirit of dreams was proud, powerful, and Danny was pretty sure he helped specifically to have something on Danny. He’d already decided that his main job tonight was to help Jason relax, feel better, and work out if he needed to sicc the Sam-Tucker combo on Bruce Wayne’s social media. 

… 

Who was he kidding. Of course they’d be setting Sam and Tucker on the guy, as soon as Jason gave the green light. 

Jason had never exactly gotten all the way through the explicit details of how Bruce had fucked up this afternoon, beyond just siccing Constantine on Jason, but honestly? 

He didn’t have to. Jason had been almost tangibly frustrated from the minute he rolled up to Danny’s dorms, though he was gonna shoot Tucker a thank you for his little “revenge”, since it had cheered the guy up right away. 

Danny was totally not considering a little spectral revenge for himself too. Mostly because Batman would probably know all about ghosts by now, and probably had Constantine doing his spectral condom act all over the cave. 

But it wasn’t like Bruce liked Danny anyway, so really, what did he have to lose? Not like Jason hadn’t already shown whose side he came out on on this one. 

Danny didn’t exactly know what having over protective parents was like, but Jason could not be more clear that he didn’t appreciate Bruce’s interference. There was clearly a lot going on with those two, and while they’d already talked about Jason’s death and technically he had permission… 

Well, Danny didn’t wanna push. Ask literally any ghost, dying could leave you with a whole stack of issues. Jason wasn’t even close to the most homicidal Danny had met. 

That poisonous rage, though… Danny pushed it from his mind. It didn’t matter, wouldn’t matter, Frostbite said Jason was doing well and Pitty would be out of him soon. 

… 

Maybe, just maybe Danny was also starting to worry what that might mean, since it sent Jason into a full panic attack and he’d seen what the rage was like when fully under control. 

Maybe they’d bump up the schedule on taking care of those Lazarus pits. Get that Obsession dealt with, see if it calmed things down. 

Yet another thing Danny would have to talk to Clockwork about, and was his irritatingly omnipresent mentor anywhere to be found? Of course not. 

Which probably meant this wasn’t a timeline threatening problem. Yet.

What a comfort. 

Which left them flying home through the Zone, and Danny totally wasn’t overthinking literally everything. He was being considerate, quiet, giving Jason time to process everything they’d seen that day. 

Maybe himself too. Just a little. But it wasn’t like Jason was hurrying to start a conversation, and they both had a lot on their minds. It was a good, comfortable silence. 

They had nearly reached his preferred portal spot too, so today’s quick trip to the Ghost Zone was nearly over, unless Danny actually wanted to go Clockwork-hunting… which, while probably less emotionally fraught, wasn’t likely to go great. 

(Realms geography could be more than just hinky; they were infinite after all, so he tended to open portals back out in the same place he’d previously opened a portal from the living world in. It seemed to help, and he didn’t usually wind up in the wrong dimension that way. 

Especially if there was a nearby, powerful anchor.

Going searching up and down the whole ass Zone for the Ever Moving Now? Yeah, that’d fuck his portal plans right up.) 

Danny could feel a steady building trepidation rising in Jason like the tide, but he had no idea what the hell to do about it. Back there in the world were Bruce and Constantine, and all the problems that kept Jason balanced precariously on a knife edge. 

Here in the Realms, all the problems were new and interesting and could almost all be solved by punching, which really suited both of them. Danny would have been tempted to suggest that sidebar to see Ghost Writer, but it was late, he had school in the morning, and his super handy time manipulating mentor was being a dick and wasn’t here. 

A couple years ago, he’d have said fuck it and gone on the sidebar anyway, and probably not slept all night to help his friend. And had Jazz harping in his ear about “developing bodies”, “needing his sleep”, and “this is why you haven’t had a growth spurt since you were fourteen”. 

Which totally wasn’t a valid argument or at all what had made him start taking care of himself. He just… well, he just actually really fucking liked his classes these days. 

Against all the odds, Danny Fenton had gotten into a prestigious college, into an engineering program that actually let him stretch his talents. And take apart old or broken lab equipment from the other buildings for fun and profit. 

And if he hadn’t slept the night before, they didn’t let him use the welding torch. Danny was pretty sure Clockwork might be behind that, since they somehow always knew. 

Maybe that was how Nocturn was already betraying him… conspiring with Clockwork to make Danny sleep more and absorb his power? 

Danny considered that seriously for about half a second before discarding it. Sure, Nocturn was the King of Sleep and an ancient, but he was also a canny motherfucker and not likely to mess up badly enough to accidentally become King of the Infinite Realms too. 

For all that he wanted power, fucking no one wanted to deal with the Observants. Danny had practically begged. 

It wasn’t like they had to go back to Gotham and then immediately straight to bed though. Just, y’know, something that wouldn’t take hours and hours. There had to be something they could do in the city that wouldn’t keep them up all night, but would keep Bruce Wayne off their asses. 

Unless Jason had shit to do. Danny… kinda hadn’t asked. The only plans he’d known about for the day was busting out Waylon, and then the potential trip to Frostbite. 

Maybe he hadn’t meant for it to go so late? Maybe Danny should ask? 

Maybe Jason was getting sick of him. 

Maybe Jason was getting a little too good at reading auras, since that thought barely settled in before he broke the silence. 

“What the fuck?” 

And alright, that might also have been a coincidence Danny decided, brows furrowing as he looked for what had caught Jason’s attention. 

It all looked normal up ahead to him. Bright green zone, a couple purple islands (was that the ghost of a Bat Burger? Maybe they should check this place out more), the haze of black smog that always surrounded… 

Ah. 

Yeah, they hadn’t really had that conversation yet, though Danny had meant to bring it up on the way home. Riiiight up until all that overthinking started.

Guess that made this introduction time. Sort of put a stop to wondering how to cheer Jason up… although depending on how Jason felt, it might just be a distraction. 

Danny pulled to a stop, Jason coming in close before stopping alongside him, just in front like he might need to protect Danny from something. 

Or like he overshot the stopping. Could be either, really. But Danny had a feeling it was at least a combo. He and Jason were just too alike, but it looked almost automatic. Vigilante training, and Danny’d bust his ass later about treating him like a civilian. 

Jason was the civilian here, and his citizen. 

He cleared his throat, wondering how exactly to go about this, since ghosts didn’t have an introduction protocol that wasn’t “throw down”. And spent about half a second wondering if that was actually on the table before deciding against it. 

Sure, most ghost introductions involved a friendly punch up, but Lady Gotham had always been a little different. And this wasn’t exactly your standard “new ghost who dis”. 

“Right, yeah… we didn’t see her last time we were in the Zone. Jason, this is-” 

“You think my own boy wouldn’t know me, Phantom?” 

The voice came from all around them, low and dark and smokey sweet like molten chocolate with just a hint of whiskey. Jason stiffened and glared around harder, conscious caution battling with the sudden wave of relief from his core. 

She spun herself from the smog of the city, like she always had. A tall, curvaceous woman built to Jack Fenton proportions, easily seven feet tall with dark mahogany skin and pitch black lipstick, perfect black hair coiled tight into an afro about her head. Smoky black makeup lined her eyes and caressed high, generous cheekbones in a line of clouds. 

Long black gloves covered her hands and arms, one of which was held across her body, hand cupping the elbow of her other arm while the other held what probably was a full sized orange traffic cone like it was a cigarette holder. It looked wrong clasped in her hand, scale thrown off by her size. A thin plume of white smoke even spiralled from the wider end. 

She wore a short flapper dress covered in layers of tassels, each of which flashed with beads of jet all along the length except for the last bead on a scattering of the strands, which were large, blood flecked pearls. Below the end of the skirt, her legs were lost in the spills of black smog surrounding her, though occasionally more flashes of pearl could be seen shifting through the murk. 

It was her eyes that captured all of the attention though as she caught and held Jason’s gaze, a sly smile on those black lips. They glowed yellow from lid to lid, each pupil shaped like a bat. 

The fight dropped out of Jason instantly, jaw dropping. 

And yeah, maybe Danny should have expected that he’d… sort of recognize her? Jason was a Gothamite to the core, had been one of her true defenders since pixie boots were in style… right up until his own death. 

And if Danny read that twitch right, it was costing him an effort not to automatically drop to one knee. So apparently that was just wired into him, and not just a Clockwork-thing. Good to know. 

Her smile spread, showing sharp white teeth dripping with tar. 

“My son,” she purred, her voice filling the air around them and sending almost visible ripples through the ectoplasm of the realms, “it is so good to finally meet you in person.” 

In front of Danny, Jason tensed again. Whatever he’d recognized didn’t quite cut through bat-paranoia, apparently. 

“Danny, who is this?” He asked cautiously, his voice low and not taking his eyes off the twin bat signals pointed at him. 

Lady Gotham sighed heavily, taking a deep pull on her traffic cone and blowing out a billowing plume of smog. She gestured to Danny, who nodded quickly. 

Totally not gonna “I told you so” the city spirit for the city he was living in. King or not, he had some manners. 

“Jason, Lady Gotham. She’s…” he hesitated, not sure how exactly to phrase it. 

Had they talked about city spirits? It felt like they had? But it had been so little time, he wasn’t sure. 

Lady Gotham stepped back in smoothly, shooting Jason a laconic smile and spreading her arms. 

“I am exactly what it sounds like. The beating heart of the city, born from the well of souls and desperate hopes of those who call it home. Every shadow in the alley, every gargoyle you shelter under, every parapet that caught your grapple and let you fly…” 

Jason had stopped breathing, which was alright as long as they were in the Zone but might not be later, his eyes tracking desperately over the ghost before them. Her smile softened, becoming fond, tender, her free hand now reaching out towards him. 

“… and you have been mine since the day you were born, Jason Todd.” 

** 

Jason was… 

Jason was. He didn’t know what he was. 

He hadn’t realised just how much noise his heart made thumping until the first time it stopped. Until he’d slammed back to life, heard its drumbeat thudding in his head, every second of every day. 

This felt a little like that. 

Like a sound he’d been hearing all of his life had gone quiet, and then come roaring back in full swing. It was too much, and not enough, and everything he’d missed in Nanda Parbat and around the world when he’d been training, left with only the thudding of his heart. 

The sounds of Gotham. Normal city noises, most of them; the honks and occasional screeches of cars, the buzz of people. And then the screams, gunshots, mad cackling laughter that most cities usually only saw in designated areas. 

And underneath it all, a low, throbbing pulse, a hum in the back of his head that meant he was home. That told him where he was, every street corner or shady alleyway. 

He could navigate the city blindfolded, knew every gargoyle, every running gutter and rusty grate, listening to that beat. That beat that told him it was his place, the one thing that nothing and no one could ever take away from him, not even all the bullshit with the League of Assassins. 

He hadn’t really noticed it going quiet in the Ghost Zone before. Which, y’know, they’d been busy. He’d had a lot on his mind, and… well, it happened any time he left the city. 

Going away with the Outsiders, it didn’t matter if they crossed the bay to Metropolis or went to space, Jason knew when he wasn’t in Gotham. Knew when he woke up in a hospital bed whether or not he was home just from that beat. 

He’d started thinking it might be the city’s ectoplasm, since Danny was so sure that was why he’d risen before. Might have explained why the Zone was a little different; it was all ectoplasm. 

And then he’d looked at this woman made of smog and shadows and smoking a fucking traffic cone, and the beat almost brought him to his knees. 

How could he not know her? They danced every night, her hand in his, guiding his guns, his grapple, cupped gently around the back of his neck and showing him where to look. Hiding him from Oracle’s cameras, pointing him at those who attacked the weak like he was the gun himself. 

Familiar as his own shadow. Constant as gravity. 

And it was that familiarity that pulled at every ounce of Bat training, that unconscious recognition and trust that forced him to doubt. 

Hypnotists were the fucking worst. Magic users were all annoying, but Jason would tangle with any of the rest before dealing with a hypnotist. They were worse than Condiment King and Kite Man combined into some ketchup splattered hell kite. 

And the more something deeper than the Pit whispered that this wasn’t hypnotism, wasn’t an outside influence, was just the deepest part of himself recognising the deepest part of his home, the harder he fought that feeling. 

Until her hand reached for his, and she said his name, and his hand was in hers before he could stop himself. 

Contact was… it was a lot. 

A barrage of sounds, smells, the backs of every alley flashing through his mind as he was bombarded with memories. Memories? Or was that what was happening now? 

Flashes of rooftops, bodies tensed in the shadows, goons working below in blissful ignorance that was about to be shattered. Breaking windows, sprays of bullets or gas or worse, moving and punching and taking down without killing. 

He caught sight of Cass for a brief moment, her shape outlined in glowing shadows that definitely weren’t visible to the men running past her hiding place. But of course they weren’t; that was the point. 

Cass was the perfect shadow anywhere on Earth, her stealth unparalleled by anything but actual magic, but in Gotham? In Gotham the darkness wrapped her in loving arms, held her close, made sure she was never found. 

His baby sister, Gotham’s child even if she’d never been to the city until she was nearly an adult. 

More flashes, Dick flying across an alley in Bludhaven (thankfully in his current suit, not the Discowing, which might mean this was the present? Or just that Jason had been seeing him so much more lately that there were just more memories of him like this?), and that made Jason pause. 

Bludhaven wasn’t Gotham. That was literally the point. That was why Dick lived there. 

And he heard her low chuckle, smoky and soft in his ear. 

*Just across the bay, my dear? No, he would have to go so much farther to be free of me, to stop being mine.*

The voice was warm and fond, soft like crushed velvet and so full of affection and pride it tugged at something in Jason’s core. 

Something from the little boy who’d watched Robin fly through the air and could barely believe he’d touched the same dream. 

Lady Gotham hadn’t moved, her hand still in his in the exact same position, and while he couldn’t see her past the images to know if she’d spoken with mouth or mind he had a feeling he knew. She was in his head, in his heart, and he’d not spoken aloud. 

Before Jason would work out how to reply, if he even wanted to reply, his attention was caught by something else in the cascade of images. 

A dark spot, not in every scene (at least not that he noticed), but often enough. Something that looked like a shadow, but just a fraction deeper than the rest, a fraction darker, that moved when all the shadows around it were still. 

Now that he looked for it he could see it everywhere, the sight of it sending a shiver up his spine that made his hair stand on end. It wasn’t fear; Jason was well acquainted with fear, as little as it bothered him. 

This was… tension, anticipation, recognition, the same thing he’d felt when there hadn’t been an Outsiders mission in a while and Roy had decided to hunt him for sport. Something, someone so familiar, with such a strong place in his life, someone he knew was damn capable, setting their sights on him. 

(It was always play when Roy did it, a game to keep them both on their toes and get a different kind of training in. Jason didn’t know if Roy ever hunted the others; asking felt like cheating somehow.) 

And then suddenly the shadow turned in a different way, its attention locking on to Jason in return and adrenaline shot through him like a bolt of lighting. 

It had to be live. Or the shadow knew when someone saw its image. But it had looked back, raising the hair on the back of his neck until it felt like he’d become a Studio Ghibli character, and it was still looking at him. 

His hands itched for his guns, the All-Blades, the Fright Gun, and he felt the large, hot hand still holding his tighten for just a second, felt Lady Gotham’s chuckle through his whole body like he was a speaker, and then he was looking at her face again, fond and smiling and larger than life. 

“Now now, my sons,” she purred softly, definitely speaking with her mouth this time even if it was just as warm as when he’d heard her in his head, “play nicely.” 

Had she been that tall before? She’d been taller than him, certainly, her hand completely enfolding his the way Bruce’s had when Jason had first come off the streets, but now she loomed almost twice as large. 

Still holding his hand in hers, only now his was positively dainty, a doll’s hand held by the child who adored it. Her thumb was almost the size of his whole hand, brushing gently over the back. 

She could probably snap him in half in an instant. 

He’d probably let her. 

Her smile spread, reacting to the thought, and her other huge hand came up to gently cup his face, all the pride and love he’d only ever seen from Catherine Todd before. 

“My brave little knight…” her eyes closed for a moment and she sucked in a deep breath, her whole body gently expanding as she savoured… something. Then those signal eyes opened and fixed on him, full of lazy satisfaction. “Your belief is so sweet.” 

The effect was somewhat spoiled by the traffic cone now pinched effortlessly between two fingers. It hadn’t changed size, which Jason supposed had to be his answer. 

She totally wasn’t that big before. And apparently it was his fault? His… belief? 

Danny was hovering in the more figurative, mother hen way now (literal not being optional at the moment), and Jason could feel his tension now that he was focused. He’d gotten closer, his aura putting him just behind Jason’s shoulder, but hadn’t gone further.  

Not moving between them, which he already had the feeling would have been Danny’s preference after the gala. Jason would tease him about that if he hadn’t already put himself between the stranger and Danny without thinking. At least Danny hadn’t actually done it. 

Whether that was because they weren’t in any danger or Danny was waiting for his go ahead didn’t actually matter; Jason couldn’t quite believe either of them would walk away from a fight with Lady Gotham no matter that Danny was the king. 

A part of him deeper than the pit knew that she would never fight him. That it was his job to fight for her, to make sure she never dirtied her hands more than the streets already did. 

Forcing himself to suck in a breath - and wondering why his lungs ached - Jason gave her hand a hesitant squeeze. Tried not to think about how ludicrously small his hand was tucked into the curl of her fingers. 

“Uh… I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but…” he paused, words failing him, and wondered how the actual fuck you were supposed to talk to a whole ass city’s soul all at once. 

Lady Gotham laughed softly, giving his cheek (and consequently whole damn head) a gentle pat before pulling away, leaning back to sit as if in an invisible chair and regard him. 

“But we’ve known each other from the day you were born,” she agreed gently, her voice still heartbreakingly warm. 

No one had ever been so open in their love for him. It all but coloured the air in a rosy pink. 

And alright, that was probably at least 90% because his family were in constant contest for Most Emotionally Constipated Soul On Earth and Alfred was British, but Jason still had no idea how to handle it. He had her full, undivided attention, which part of him knew he’d never had in the physical city. 

She had so many protectors watching over her, even the crankiest parts of Jason couldn’t begrudge her that. He wasn’t exactly sure he was enjoying it now. 

“Ask,” she said softly, gently, the word still echoing around them but in a way that suddenly seemed more enclosed. More private. The echo of a bathroom instead of a grand cavern. 

Sucking in another deep breath, Jason realized he had about a thousand questions. But he had to start with the most pressing. 

“That shadow, what was it? It was… following the others, all of them. And you called it your son?” 

She’d called him her son too, and for the first time since he’d died the word didn’t rankle. But that could be the next question. 

The smile she gave him was blatantly approving and she waved a hand gently, a patch of smog in her surrounding cloud suddenly taking on a darker, more solid shape. It wasn’t the shadow itself, there was none of the buzzing adrenaline or life in its movements. Just a facsimile. 

He still kind of wanted the All-Blades. Just, y’know, for evil testing. 

“Yes, your… brother,” Lady Gotham said slowly, rolling the word over her lips as if tasting it. “That is the Curse of Gotham. Older than the city itself, technically, but before more people came it was simply a malevolence on a patch of land.” 

She waved a hand, dispelling the temporarily solidified smog easily. 

“It was only once the city was founded, then filled with souls and then despair and superstition and belief that he became a true Curse. As you are mine, the rogues are his. Bearing his mark, flying his flag, putting fear and doubt into every soul as they huddle against the chaos and swear to each other that there is a darkness here like no other.” 

Somehow, this did not endear Jason to his “brother”. It didn’t please Danny either, who leaned just a little into Jason’s shoulder, a sudden wariness pinging through his aura. 

“Wait, so the curse is older than you? Then why are you…” he trailed off, cheeks flushing suddenly as he asked what Jason was pretty sure was the least important question. 

Gotham bestowed him with a gentle, somewhat less fond smile too. Favouritism where he was the favourite kinda make Jason’s skin buzz. 

“As I said, it was the city which gave him form. Land can hold a myriad of curses, and any city built here would certainly have felt his affects. But belief…” she paused for a moment, lips pursing as she considered her next words. 

Yellow eyes flicked back towards Jason, measuring him, and her smile spread into something distinctly self satisfied. 

“Belief matters, for the Neverborn. It’s food and drink, our lifeblood, a source of power. And people believed in Gotham long before they made more than jokes about the curse. No one says that Gotham is on cursed land; they speak of Gotham’s Curse. And so he is mine.” 

Jason got the distinct impression that while everything was well established now, it had been more touch and go at one point… close enough that having won was still a point of pride. He didn’t even realize he was smiling back. 

It was also probably what she’d meant before… when she’d grown. His belief fed her. Which… kinda meant that him thinking they couldn’t possibly win a fight was a self fulfilling prophecy. 

Not quite sure if that was funny or worrying, Jason dismissed the thought and refocused. Some curse was still stalking his family after all, and probably him when he went back to the living world. 

“So if this Curse owns all the rogues… is he going to try and hurt the others?” He asked cautiously. Because if none of this was new, the Curse had been stalking them all since they put on the cowls. 

How many close calls… 

No. Jason hadn’t been in Gotham when Joker got him. He’d thought it was the arrogance of youth that had made him feel invulnerable in Gotham as a Robin, but now he knew there really had been hands hovering over him. 

Hands that hadn’t dropped him until he’d left the city. Half the world away and all alone, still sure he was invulnerable… right up until he wasn’t. 

He only realized his attention had been drifting when he snapped back, a large and achingly gentle thumb brushing his cheek. Now bigger than his head, still smelling of the smog of the city. 

Lady Gotham smiled gently, the dark bats in her eyes crinkling. 

“He is no danger to you,” she told him softly, focusing on the question that was asked. Not his wandering thoughts, though he got the feeling she knew anyway. 

Drawing back, she looked thoughtfully from him to Danny, taking another drag on her traffic cone, apparently thinking. Held the smogs in for a long moment, until she seemed to come to a conclusion and blew out a long stream. 

“The Curse makes the rogues; takes those already on the edge of something bad, and pushes them over. Turns the stagnation of despair into frantic, violent action. It is what he is, what he does… a lingering rot land deep, which feeds on the darkness and breeds more in the souls of Gotham’s inhabitants.” 

That definitely sounded like something dangerous to Jason, but who was he to interrupt Gotham herself? A sidelong glance made him wonder if she’d caught that thought too; just how well could she read him? 

She waved the smouldering traffic cone in his general direction, blanketing him in a wave of almost comforting black smog. 

“And yet, you notice, so few of the rogues seek to  permanently remove any of your heroes from the board?” 

Danny sucked in a sharp breath beside him, Jason’s heart clenched, but before either could protest, Lady Gotham gave a heavy sigh and inclined her head, smile slipping entirely for the first time. 

“The Joker is an unfortunate exception. There is… something worse there, deeper, darker, but I will explain later. For now, consider the others. So many who could, so many chances that they could have taken to kill each of you. I would not allow it, of course, yet even those who wish to see Batman permanently defeated rarely even try to end his life. It is not for no reason.” 

There was a true solemnity, almost pain in her face as she spoke of the Joker, eyes fixed on Jason and full of sorrow. Yet nothing in her aura, no push of regret-sadness or anything similar. Nothing to affect his own emotions, and Jason had the feeling that that was deliberate. 

As if she knew how much he hated being controlled, pushed around. Or she just… didn’t want to do that to him. It was tough to say, but he was also self aware enough to know he was puzzling that out rather than thinking much about her words. 

Of course the Joker was something worse than the fucking Curse of Gotham. Naturally. And y’know what else he was? 

Not Jason’s fucking problem right now. 

Lady Gotham had paused with him, waiting for his acknowledgment apparently, and Jason gave a stiff nod for her to continue. He’d asked the damn question. He needed to focus on the answer. 

A gentle incline of her head the only sign she’d seen anything at all, Lady Gotham continued. 

“The Curse will not harm your family, and nor do most of the rogues seek to actually remove you, because your family’s activities are integral to powering the Curse,” she said simply, and that snapped any fragments of Jason’s attention firmly back into place as he stiffened. 

Danny tensed beside him as well, still hanging back, but it was Jason who spoke. He didn’t need help on this one. 

“Wait, what? How the hell are we helping the Curse?!” He demanded, brows furrowing. 

If the Curse made the rogues by taking people on the edge and throwing them off, sure, that kinda made sense. Gotham had always been a cesspit of crime, but it used to be at least 85% less brightly spandex coloured before the Bat came along. 

Much as Jason didn’t think Bruce took his mission far enough, he could admit that at least the “normal” gang violence had died down significantly. For one thing, most of the old gangs had been driven out by the rogues, or absorbed by converts like Penguin and Black Mask. There wasn’t much space in Gotham these days for just run-of-the-mill crime. 

And Jason himself had gouged a chunk out of what was left, which he used to find extremely satisfying… but how would that help the Curse? Unless… the Curse had pushed that darkness in him…

Lady Gotham shook her head, that fond smile curling sadly at her lips as she reached down to gently tip his chin up with a massive finger. 

“No, my dear… you are not helping the Curse. He could no longer exist without you,” she explained softly, the dark and dusty smogs building heavily around them. Just seeing them made Jason’s throat itch… 

He clenched his jaw shut, focusing on her face instead. Waiting for that to make some fucking sense. 

Lady Gotham hummed thoughtfully, holding his chin a moment longer before releasing him, waving a hand vaguely through the smoggy air. 

“It is… contrast. There are no shadows without the light, no sweet without bitterness, no… no hope without despair. And no despair without hope.” She seemed pleased with the metaphor, bat signal eyes bright in suddenly building gloom. Which then fixed on him. 

“When people lose hope… when they give up on Gotham, accept the awfulness in their lives as mundane, it drains them of their will, their power to believe. If nothing fights the Curse, pushes back on the tides of corruption, then who’s to say there is a curse at all? Just mundane bad governance. Certainly nothing unique about that, in this world.” 

A hand cut through thick black clouds and Jason realized abruptly that he’d lost sight of everything but her eyes, shining in the darkness. And then the shadows spiralled in front of him, whipped by her fingers into a familiar black silhouette. 

“But the Bats… the birds, all of Gotham’s caped defenders? No other city in the world could fail to be safe under your constant attentions. No other city could take the stream of wealth and charity Bruce Wayne pours into it and be less than utopian. And yet Gotham remains, a far better city than the one you were born in, but still one of the most dangerous places to live in this country.” 

The shadowy bat began to glow, lined in a bright golden light, yet somehow it only made the surrounding shadows all the darker. It swished its cape, striking at invisible foes, and the clouds curled in around it. 

“What else but a curse could cause this? And what a powerful curse it must be, with a new vigilante showing every month, and still not a dent?” 

The blackness around them grew darker still, the bat’s glow suddenly seeming weak and fragile. Jason’s chest lurched, his heart screaming to reach out and catch the faltering figure, pull it close and keep it safe, but he stamped it down. 

It wasn’t Bruce in danger. It was just a light-show, a visual demonstration. And it sure as hell didn’t need his protection. 

And then a skewer of pure blackness plunged through its heart and the golden glow winked out, leaving them in pitch darkness. 

Jason’s heart clenched, a dread chill running down his spine and he spun around, searching for Lady Gotham and her searchlight eyes, but he couldn’t see anything. Not even Danny, who always glowed faintly in his ghost form. 

Still, her voice continued, completely calm and unshakeable. 

“If the symbol falls… if the Bat is broken, the Curse will gain a great deal of power for a day. Perhaps a generation. And then people will forget, and forget that they believed, and it will wane once again. A much worse loss, now that he knows the power he can have.” 

The billowing clouds of darkness pulled back and the glowing green of the Ghost Zone almost made Jason shield his eyes. They hadn’t moved, of course they hadn’t; Danny was still right beside him, his aura a heavy throb of new understanding-exasperated-mildly amuse.  

Which… well, yeah, now that he could breathe again Jason could admit it had all been pretty dramatic. If she was his first ghost, he’d have assumed it was just a Gotham thing, but Danny was also a dramatic little shit, so. 

Sucking in a deep breath, Jason blew it out slowly, calming the beating of his heart. Lady Gotham looked quite pleased with herself, still sat reclined a little ways away. 

It was one hell of a powerpoint, and he was pretty sure he’d got the gist of things. Not that it made any of this make sense, but it was pretty much what he’d expect from magic. 

“So… the Curse makes the rogues, to make people think the city is cursed, but it also wants to keep the vigilantes safe…” a phrase from an old book tugged at his mind, and Jason couldn’t resist a slight smile, “because you gain status by the quality of your enemies?” 

It startled a short laugh from Danny, quickly stifled as Lady Gotham beamed her approval. 

“In essence, yes. The struggle will be unending, because it must be, but we have come to… an understanding of late. Despair and death feed my Curse in the immediate sense, but when both are only to be expected… it’s a paltry meal. There is inevitability, even boredom, when it’s all despair all the time. So now the city has hope, and I prosper.” 

Lady Gotham preened, plumping up her perfectly round curls, the same self satisfied smile she’d had when mentioning how she had become the dominant spirit. Maybe the Curse hadn’t quite worked out just how much she got out of their little understanding too. Then she shrugged. 

“And the rogues have their little obsessions, their tricks and games, and sometimes there is despair and sometimes there is death. But what matters is that you are there to fight against it, to nobly win the battle…” 

“Even if we’ll never win the war,” Jason finished grimly, his mood souring. 

Wasn’t that what he’d always told Bruce? That his damn rules, his “No Killing” standard meant that everything else he did was pointless? That just locking people up in the bloody sieve that was Arkham was never going to change anything? 

Lady Gotham’s smile softened to something bittersweet and sad, and she nodded gently. 

“Gotham city will never know peace, Jason,” she told him gently, and suddenly she was smaller again, scant feet taller than him, and holding out a hand he’d be able to close his own around. “It will never be like any other city. But the only reason I stand at all is because people like you will look at this city, with its soot and its smuts and its people who have nowhere else to go, and decide that it is worth fighting for.” 

Those eyes were fixed on him again, black bats on yellow lights, and then suddenly… suddenly the irises were black, and the bats a familiar deep red. It might have been a blink; it might just have been that sharp moment of change. 

“There is one way that the war will end,” she told him softly, stepping closer through the void until he could have counted the pearls skittering across her dress, and every jet bead around them, if he could have looked away from her face. 

“On the day that those heroes turn away, that all else give up on Gotham and turn their backs. When no one stands against the tide of night and it is dragged down and away into the dark heart of the Cursed land beneath. It is only hope that stands in the way of that end, my Jason Todd… my Robin.” 

His brow furrowed and a fleeting smirk dashed across her lips, the faintest flicker of her gaze to Danny beside him, and Jason understood. It wasn’t Robin’s colours in her eyes, no matter what Damian had done to the suit. 

Her Red Hood. 

But she wouldn’t out him to Danny, not even now. 

His gaze fell to her hand again, suddenly bare and dark and open and nails that were a rich, bloody red. His blood, and Bruce’s, and every vigilante, and every citizen, and every rogue that stood, and fought, and died for her. Every life that was ruined or ended, all in this fight that could never be won, only lost. 

He met her gaze again, felt the red bat he’d emblazoned across his chest once more pierce his soul. 

Because… this was what it really meant, to wear the bat. Not just that he had forgiven Bruce, that they’d reconciled, that he’d rejoined the family. That he wasn’t going to kill unless he had to, and there was no other choice. 

No. 

He wore the bat because he wasn’t just the Red Hood, a name he’d stolen from the damn clown and carved across the city in blood until people only thought of him when they said it. He wasn’t the crime lord who’d filled a bag with the heads of his rivals’ best lieutenants, took Crime Alley in a bloody fist, and was just another gang leader. Just a bigger, scarier, nastier guy than the people who’d wanted that alley before to strip mine its people and poison its kids. 

And sure, being that guy had worked. It kept the worse gangs out. Kept his street kids fed and occupied, and mostly out of jail. Did what all of Bruce’s crusade had never managed to do; he’d cleaned up Crime Alley. 

And it hadn’t been enough. 

Hadn’t made anyone feel safe; not when all they had was Red Hood’s whim that kept them from going right back to the mess they’d been left in. 

The Alley was different too, this last year. He’d always tried, as Hood and Jason. Wanted people to come together, build a community, to feel safe in their home and protect it. 

To feel like someone finally, actually cared about them. That someone cared about Crime Alley for its people, not what they could take from them. That they would be defended. 

And people had played along, back before he took the bat. They’d come out, cleaned up the street, fixed up some store fronts and made careful conversation, because that was what you did when the man with the big guns said he wanted you to play nice.

And they’d been wary, cautious, watching the Hood like he’d snap at any second no matter what Jay told them. And he’d known they were just… humouring him. Didn’t believe in it. And he’d thought the only way to get them to see was to keep going, keep giving back until they realized he really meant it all.

He’d patrolled since the first day he’d come back, but it had been the day he’d gone out in his modified uniform, the red bat on his chest, that things finally changed. 

His working girls and boys didn’t straighten up when he approached. The street kids didn’t run when his shadow passed overhead. People looked up into the night and they smiled, thanked him, reached out to the gang and left little red bat signs in their windows. 

With the red helmet and black body armour, he’d been just another thug to fear. And oh, he’d fucking hated it at first, turned his vision to sickly green that all this acceptance only came with B’s goddamn bat on his chest. 

When the kids tagged it on walls, dumpsters, taunting threats at the edge of their territory to every other gang in Gotham, they finally had a bat-approved protector. 

Never enough that he’d taken the bat off, though, and now he could see what all those little signs really said. 

“We have a protector too.” 

“Someone will find justice for us.” 

And, his personal favourite (love those little Alley bastards), “Our bat’s bigger than yours.” 

Bruce had put the shape on the symbol when he became the night and wanted to drive fear into the hearts of criminals instead of the ordinary citizens, but it wasn’t really his. It was Superman’s S, the symbol of the House of El, the symbol of Lady Gotham turned to something humans could see. 

The symbol of a protector, a guardian, and uniquely Gotham’s own. 

It was all there, in those red on black eyes, in that soft, knowing smile. 

“Have you ever backed down from a fight just because you knew you couldn’t win, Jason Todd?” She asked softly, so softly, and he had to smile back. 

She’d known him since the day he was born, and there was only one thing he could say to that.  

He took her hand. 

“Never.” 

——————

LISTEN Y’ALL I HAVE BEEN HOLDING THIS LADY GOTHAM REVEAL SO CLOSE TO THE CHEST.

HER DRESS. HER HAIR. HER GODDAMN TRAFFIC CONE! Anyway she’s wonderful and she’s perfect and she will be back next chapter too, but fuck knows when that will be, so! Hopefully a little less time than this last one, but We Shall See.

This chappy will go up on AO3 tomorrow, I usually try and do same day but I gotta be up early Yet Again and I still…. Haven’t done replies on the last one, so 😅

Wish me luck for the next chapter, I have SO MANY things planned and the outline is just sizzling and we are finally out of introductions territory and it’ll be time for the Plot! Ah, my beloved plot, which will hopefully pick up and speed things along a little more in-fic timewise…

Next Chapter:

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