#through with murdering the joker. or if it was his own rage and grief talking. his encounter with rath forced him to stop and reflect.

[starry-bi-sky]

Thinking about Rath and how other ghosts react to him. Unlike Dan, who's ruthless and cruel, tormenting the other ghosts for no other reason than he could, Rath just wants his family back; and he HATES that you aren't his family. Do other ghosts realize that Rath is in a Banshee Grief Spiral? Do they care with how powerful he ends up being? How does CFAU!Danny deal with Rath? Because unlike Dan, Rath wouldn't travel back in time to bring about his own future. If anything, he'd go back to PROTECT his loved ones.

Also I loved your tags going into how Danny doesn't blame Bruce for his friends death, and why he's going to kill the Joker personally. It was a great read.

its hard not to tell that Rath is going through a Banshee Grief Spiral asdfjh. Any ghost who sees him can take one look and go: oh yeah, that kid is going THROUGH it. And then they beeline the other way because Banshees can be vicious when they're Going Through The Horrors, because their perception of reality and the world around them gets warped by their grief. And the thing with the CFAU brand of Banshees is that they do eventually learn how to get themselves out of their own Spirals. It's something they learn how to do over time and (somewhat) naturally, as well as make bonds with other ghosts who can also help them get out of those Spirals if the banshee themself cannot for some reason or another.

Basically they build up their own support system and learn how to regulate their grief so it's not consuming them. Rath had that support system... in Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and his parents (albeit they didn't know he was a banshee). And finding Jason again helped soothe some of that grief -- not all of it, mind you, but it made it a little more manageable.

...And then it all got ripped away from him in the span of a week. 😬 yikes. Rath was going through a Spiral while he was with Vlad, and was desperately (and somewhat failing) to manage it all on his own. Vlad could've become a part of his new support system,... but didn't. He wasn't helping Danny with his grief. And the whole "ripping out his ghost half thing" only made it worse, and was a tipping point for poor Rath.

Another thing about CFAU Banshees is that human-born banshees tend to already be pretty... rare all on their own. Most Banshees are formed in the Zone, by the Zone, from the Zone. They're pre-programmed to learn how to handle that all-consuming grief and sorrow because it's something they're born with. Like someone born with chronic pain. Human-born banshees have to adjust, and it can be pretty... maddening all on its own. Which is where the support system can help a lot.

Where was I going with this beyond just info-dumping about CFAU Banshees? Ah, right. Absolutely the other ghosts care about Rath being in a grief spiral considering how powerful he is. But there's very little they can actually do about it, other than be relieved that he's left the Zone (he left when he couldn't find his family), and was out terrorizing the living realm instead. It's difficult to get close to Rath even if you're a ghost, and he's not going to listen to anything they say regardless.

They'd be very terrified of Danny until they realize that he's not Rath -- and they'd be able to tell pretty quickly after the initial terror passes. Phantom looks like,,, well; Phantom. Rath looks like a cross from Danny's childhood in Gotham (oversized, ragged clothes hanging off a small, malnourished child) and Sadako Yamamura from The Ring (uneasy, shambling presence, face mostly covered by his hair.) Rath's Future is an Apocalypse much like how The Quiet Place is an Apocalypse. Very quiet.

And I haven't quite figured out how CFAU!Danny deals with Rath, although you are right in that Rath would try and prevent his future and protect his loved ones. ...If he was lucid.

The version of Rath that Danny meets has very little grasp on reality due to years of unchecked grief. I'm not even sure myself if Rath would be able to recognize Sam and Tucker and his family. Any living versions he may come across are either hallucinations or, even worse, imposters. And he'll attempt to attack either for their deception.

And even if he could recognize his family as alive and as him being in the past, he's still so mentally unstable that Rath would lash out at anyone if he perceived a threat against his family, or if he believed they were putting themselves in danger. He'd be very possessive and controlling, preventing them from going anywhere that wasn't under his careful watch. Anyone trying to get them away from him, he'd attack without mercy.

Ultimately, Danny would need to quickly stun Rath long enough to trap him in the thermos, before he can do any more damage. Only then can Rath's healing actually begin.

Also ty! I'm glad you liked my tags about Danny's feelings about Bruce and his motives behind killing the Joker. I thought it'd be a fun compare-contrast between Jason and Danny, as well as a good signifier for how much has changed between them both in the last five years.

[eclipsedrgn]

𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒆 𝑶𝒖𝒕

an angst story of batmom being locked in arkham for the murder of the joker.

TW🔞 depression, suicide, anxiety, mature content

Gotham was a city built on whispers and shadows, where secrets festered beneath the surface and darkness clung to every corner. It was a place where hope seemed fleeting, where even the brightest lights were snuffed out too soon. But for a time, you had been one of those lights. You were (Y/N) Wayne—the heart of Wayne Manor, the gentle, nurturing presence that balanced the cold, calculating mind of Gotham’s Dark Knight. To the outside world, you were a symbol of grace and resilience, the devoted wife of Bruce Wayne, a woman who shined despite the darkness surrounding her.

And to the Bat-Family, you were Batmom, the one who held everything together. You weren’t just Bruce’s wife—you were their mother, their confidant, the one who provided a safe harbor in the stormy seas of crime-fighting. You had always been their sunshine, even in the bleakest of times.

But that light had gone out the day Jason died.

Jason Todd, your boy, your son, the second Robin… the moment you found out he was gone, something inside you broke. The Joker had taken him from you, and with it, any semblance of peace you had left. The laughter, the vibrant energy that once filled your home, was replaced by a crushing, suffocating grief.

And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you lost yourself in that darkness.

The woman who had been known for her warmth, for her ability to bring people together, became a ghost of her former self. The pain was too much. The weight of Jason’s death settled over you like a heavy fog, blurring the edges of reality, choking out any remnants of joy. You had tried to keep going, tried to hold it together for Bruce, for your remaining sons, for Gotham. But it was too much.

And then came the day you snapped.

The news had hit Gotham like a shockwave. The Joker—Gotham’s most notorious criminal, the Clown Prince of Crime—was dead. Not just dead, but killed, executed by none other than you, (Y/N) Wayne. The city was in chaos, the media swirling with questions. How could the wife of Gotham’s billionaire philanthropist—of Batman—kill a man, no matter how evil he was?

The story spread like wildfire. Everyone had their theories. Some said you’d been driven mad by grief, that Jason’s death had broken you. Others claimed you had always been hiding something darker beneath your cheerful facade. But no one, not even those closest to you, could truly comprehend the depth of your pain. They didn’t understand the raw, unfiltered rage that had taken hold of you when you stood over the Joker’s lifeless body, your hands shaking, your heart pounding in your chest.

You had killed him. You had avenged Jason. But instead of feeling the relief you had expected, all you felt was emptiness.

Bruce hadn’t looked at you the same since that day.

You were known as the matriarch of the Bat-Family, but now the headlines painted a different picture. The front pages of Gotham’s newspapers screamed with scandal: “Wayne’s Wife Commits Murder, Kills Joker in Cold Blood.” But what truly stunned the city was Bruce’s decision to send you to Arkham Asylum.

To the public, it was shocking. Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s golden boy, had locked his wife away. No one knew the reasons, no one knew what had transpired between the two of you behind closed doors. And you were too lost in your own despair to even fight it.

To the world, you had always been sunshine. But now, locked away in Arkham’s cold, sterile walls, you were nothing more than a forgotten ghost.

The days blurred together in Arkham. You couldn’t remember how long you had been there—weeks, months? Time didn’t matter anymore. You were kept in isolation for the most part, away from the other inmates, but it didn’t stop the whispers. The guards talked. You could hear them, their lewd comments, the way they looked at you through the bars of your cell.

You tried to hold onto the last shred of dignity you had, tried to remember the woman you once were. But it was difficult. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Jason’s face. Every time you woke, you were reminded of how far you had fallen.

And then came the night that shattered you completely.

It had started with a quiet knock on your cell door. You were sitting on the cold concrete floor, staring at the wall, lost in thought, when you heard the door creak open. You barely registered the sound at first, too numb to react. But then you felt the presence of someone behind you, and before you could process what was happening, rough hands grabbed you, yanking you to your feet.

There were two of them, guards whose faces you had seen before but never paid much attention to. They grinned at you, their eyes filled with something dark and predatory.

“You know, Mrs. Wayne,” one of them sneered, his grip tightening on your arm, “there’s a lot of talk about you. Everyone thinks you’re some kind of untouchable queen. But here? You’re just another inmate.”

Panic surged through you, but you were too weak, too drained to fight back. You struggled, but it was futile. They were stronger, and you were outnumbered. Tears blurred your vision as you realized what was about to happen, but you bit your lip, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing you break.

But the pain that followed broke you in ways you couldn’t have imagined.

They took turns, their laughter ringing in your ears, their hands violating every part of you. It was brutal, dehumanizing. You had never felt more powerless in your entire life. You had faced Gotham’s worst criminals, stood beside Batman as you fought to protect the city. But in that moment, you were nothing. Just a victim in a place meant to break people.

And as they left you lying on the cold floor, bruised and bleeding, you realized that whatever piece of yourself had remained after Jason’s death was now gone.

You were broken.

Days passed, though you no longer kept track. The pain lingered, both physical and emotional, but you refused to speak. The guards continued to torment you, their threats hanging in the air like a constant reminder of your helplessness. You didn’t dare tell anyone—not that it would matter. You were alone in Arkham, and no one was coming to save you.

Bruce had locked you away here.

Bruce. The thought of him still brought a hollow ache to your chest. He had sent you here to Arkham—your own husband, the man who was supposed to love you unconditionally. But after what you had done, you couldn’t blame him. You had crossed a line, killed someone, and now you were paying the price.

But deep down, you couldn’t help but wonder if he even knew what was happening to you. Did he even care?

The thought lingered in your mind as you lay in your cell, staring blankly at the ceiling. You had once been Gotham’s light, but now, there was nothing left of that woman. You were just another broken soul in a place designed to break people. And you weren’t sure you’d ever find your way back.

The cold, sterile walls of Arkham Asylum had become your prison—physically and mentally. The bruises littering your body, the cuts that never quite healed, and the broken spirit inside you were all part of the same hell you had been living for months now. The guards and inmates alike had taken their turns, and each time you were left to pick up the shattered pieces of yourself, only to be broken again. You no longer knew who you were. You weren’t (Y/N) Wayne anymore. You weren’t Batmom, the mother figure to Gotham’s crime fighters. You were just a shell, discarded and forgotten by everyone who had once mattered.

And Bruce? You had stopped wondering if he cared a long time ago. The man who had once been your world, the man who had promised to protect you, had left you to rot in this place. The betrayal ran deep, but even deeper was the heartache from the knowledge that he hadn’t saved you. He hadn’t even come for you. You had been abandoned.

One night, as you lay curled up in the corner of your cell, trying to block out the sounds of the hellhole that was Arkham, something shifted in the air. You didn’t notice at first, too consumed by the numbness that had overtaken you. But then, there was the faint sound of footsteps—quiet, almost imperceptible.

You barely had time to react before the door to your cell swung open. For a moment, fear seized you, your body instinctively tensing for what you thought would be another brutal attack. But the figure that stepped through the doorway wasn’t a guard, and it wasn’t an inmate. He was dressed in dark, tactical armor, a red helmet concealing his face.

Red Hood.

You had heard whispers about him—Gotham’s newest crime lord, a vigilante who wasn’t afraid to kill. But why would he be here? And why, out of all the prisoners, would he come for you?

The question barely formed in your mind before the Red Hood knelt beside you, his movements surprisingly gentle as he scooped you up into his arms. You wanted to resist, wanted to tell him to leave you here, to let you fade away in this hellhole. But you were too weak, too broken to do anything but cling to him as he lifted you effortlessly.

"Shh," he murmured, his voice soft and familiar beneath the modulator. "I’ve got you. You’re safe now."

Safe? The word felt foreign to you now. You hadn’t felt safe in months, not since the day you were thrown into Arkham. But there was something about the way he held you, something about the way he spoke, that made you believe him—if only for a moment.

Before you knew it, he had carried you out of the asylum, navigating the dark corridors with ease. The cool night air hit your skin as you were brought outside, but you barely registered it. Everything was a blur—the city lights, the sound of his footsteps, the way your body ached from the months of abuse. You could hardly keep your eyes open as you were whisked away from the prison that had held you captive for so long.

You lost consciousness before you could ask him where he was taking you.

When you finally came to, you were lying on a cot in a dimly lit warehouse. The air was cold, but the blanket draped over your body offered some comfort. For the first time in months, the ache in your body had dulled to something manageable, though the emotional scars were far from healed. You blinked, disoriented, as you tried to sit up, only to find that your body was still too weak to move properly.

"Easy," a voice said from somewhere nearby. You turned your head, your eyes focusing on the figure sitting by your side. Red Hood.

He had removed his helmet, revealing a face you thought you’d never see again.

Jason.

Your breath caught in your throat as your mind struggled to process what you were seeing. He was supposed to be dead. You had buried him—grieved for him. He had been taken from you by the Joker, ripped from your life in the most violent way possible. And yet here he was, sitting in front of you, very much alive.

Your voice cracked as you tried to speak. "Jason?"

He nodded, his expression grim but filled with something else—something you couldn’t quite place. "Yeah, Ma. It’s me."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you were too overwhelmed to cry. "But… how? I saw you… you were gone. I thought—"

Jason reached out, gently grasping your hand. His touch was warm, grounding you in the reality of the moment. "I came back. It’s a long story. But I’m here now."

For a long moment, you couldn’t speak, your mind racing with a thousand questions. How had this happened? Why hadn’t he come to you sooner? But the most pressing question—the one that cut through all the confusion—was simple.

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

Jason’s expression darkened, guilt flashing across his features. "I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. And… and then when I came back, I saw what happened. With Joker. With Bruce."

At the mention of Bruce’s name, something inside you broke all over again. The man you had once loved, the man who had promised to stand by your side, had thrown you into the depths of Arkham. He had abandoned you to that nightmare, left you to suffer alone.

"I couldn’t believe it," Jason continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I couldn’t believe he’d do that to you. And when I found out what was happening in there…" His voice trailed off, his jaw clenching as he struggled to contain his anger. "I should’ve come for you sooner. I’m sorry, Ma. I’m so fucking sorry."

Tears spilled down your cheeks as the weight of everything came crashing down on you. Jason had come back, had rescued you from the nightmare of Arkham, but the damage had already been done. You were broken—physically, emotionally. The woman you had once been was gone.

"You shouldn’t have had to do that," you whispered, your voice trembling. "You shouldn’t have had to come for me. I… I killed him, Jason. I killed the Joker. And look what it cost me."

Jason’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes filled with fierce determination. "He deserved it. After what he did to me? To us? I would’ve killed him myself if you hadn’t."

You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. "But I lost everything because of it. Bruce… Bruce put me in Arkham. He left me there. He… he didn’t even try to save me."

Jason’s expression hardened, his jaw clenching as anger flashed across his face. "Fuck him. He doesn’t deserve you."

You wanted to protest, wanted to defend Bruce, but the words wouldn’t come. Deep down, you knew Jason was right. Bruce had made his choice the day he sent you to Arkham, the day he turned his back on you. And now, all you had left was Jason—the son you had thought you’d lost forever.

"How did you survive?" you finally asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Jason let out a shaky breath, his eyes distant as he recalled the events that had led him back to you. "It’s a long story, but the short version? The Lazarus Pit. It brought me back… but not in the same way. I was different. I was angry. I wanted revenge. And then I found out about you… and I couldn’t let you stay in there. Not after everything."

He looked at you then, his expression softening. "I’m here now, Ma. And I’m not leaving you. Not ever again."

You couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped your lips as Jason pulled you into his arms, holding you close as the weight of the past months came crashing down on you. For the first time since Jason’s death, you allowed yourself to feel. The grief, the anger, the betrayal—it all flooded out of you in a torrent of tears as Jason held you, his hand gently stroking your hair.

For the first time in months, you weren’t alone.

And despite the pain, despite the broken pieces of yourself that still needed to be mended, there was a flicker of hope. Jason was alive. He was here. And maybe—just maybe—you could begin to heal.

But the scars, both visible and invisible, would remain. And the man who had once been your world, the man who had abandoned you to the depths of Arkham, was still out there. And eventually, you would have to face him again. But for now, you held onto your son—the one thing that still tethered you to this world.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The quiet hum of the plane was the only sound as you and Jason sat side by side, your hands resting on your lap as you stared out the window. The clouds below were thick and endless, and the world seemed far away, but your mind was racing. Your heart had been pounding in your chest ever since you made the decision to tell Jason the truth—about everything.

He thought he was bringing you to California to meet someone special, but he had no idea what was waiting for him on the other side. He had no idea that you had been hiding something monumental, something that had kept you going even in the darkest days of Arkham. Your baby girl. His baby sister.

Jason sat next to you, quiet but protective as ever. He hadn’t asked too many questions when you’d requested to go to California. He trusted you. After everything you had both been through, there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you. But you knew that trust would be tested when he learned the full story.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to him, your heart heavy with the weight of the truth you were about to reveal.

"Jason," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago."

Jason looked at you, his eyes softening as he noticed the tension in your face. He reached out, taking your hand in his. "Ma, you don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready."

"I do," you said, your voice firmer now. "I should have told you sooner, but... there was never a right time. But you deserve to know."

Jason’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for you to continue.

You took another deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "When Bruce... when he sent me to Arkham, I didn’t know at the time, but I was pregnant. I found out after I’d already been locked away. It was a few months later when I started noticing the signs."

Jason’s hand tightened around yours, and his eyes widened in shock. "You were pregnant? In Arkham?"

You nodded, your heart aching at the memory. "Yeah. I was lucky in the beginning. The guards didn’t take much interest in me then, not until later. I managed to hide the pregnancy for a while, but as time went on, it became harder to hide. Eventually, I gave birth in that hellhole."

Jason’s face contorted with anger and pain, his jaw clenching. "You gave birth in Arkham? Fuck, Ma, I had no idea—"

"I know," you interrupted gently. "I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want her to be connected to Arkham, to that place, or to me. And I knew... I knew I wouldn’t be able to protect her there."

Jason’s grip on your hand tightened, but he remained silent, letting you continue.

"Harley Quinn had escaped right around the time I gave birth," you explained, your voice trembling as you recalled the memory. "She found me... and she offered to take me with her. She owed me for something I’d done for her years ago, and she wanted to repay that debt. But I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t go with her. So, instead... I asked her to take my baby. To take her somewhere safe. To get her out of Gotham."

Jason’s breath hitched, his eyes searching yours, trying to process everything you were telling him. "You... gave your baby to Harley Quinn?"

"I didn’t have a choice," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes. "It was the hardest decision I ever made, but I knew it was the only way to keep her safe. I begged Harley to take her far away, to somewhere no one would ever think to look. And Harley... she did it. She took her to California, to a family she knew from her days as a doctor."

Jason’s eyes softened, and he swallowed hard, the anger in his gaze replaced by something more conflicted. "Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell anyone?"

"I couldn’t," you said, your voice breaking. "I didn’t want anyone to find her, Jason. I didn’t want her to be part of this life. I wanted her to have a chance, a real chance, at a normal life. Away from Gotham, away from the madness."

Jason was silent for a long moment, processing everything you had said. He looked away, his jaw clenched, his hands trembling slightly. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, but understanding. "She’s my sister."

You nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. "Yes. She’s your baby sister."

Jason leaned back in his seat, his hand still gripping yours as he let out a shaky breath. "I... I can’t believe this. All this time... and I never knew."

"No, no Jaybird" you whispered, your heart breaking as you saw the pain in his eyes. "You were gone. I lost you. But I didn't find out about her till Bruce put me in jail."

Jason turned back to you, his eyes shining with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "I get it. I do. You were doing what you thought was best. But... fuck, Ma, I wish I could’ve been there. I wish I could’ve helped."

You nodded, tears streaming down your face. "I know. I wish things could have been different."

For a long moment, you sat in silence, the weight of everything that had happened between you hanging in the air. Finally, Jason squeezed your hand, his voice softer now. "So... we’re going to see her?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I want you to meet her. She’s with a good family, but... she deserves to know where she comes from. And I think... I think she deserves to meet her brother."

Jason didn’t say anything at first, but you could see the determination in his eyes. He had always been protective, always cared deeply for the people he loved. And now, knowing he had a little sister out there, you could see that protective instinct kicking in.

"When we get there," Jason said, his voice steady, "we’ll figure this out. Together. We’ll keep her safe, just like you wanted."

You smiled through your tears, relief washing over you. For the first time in months—maybe years—you felt like you were finally on the right path.

When the plane finally touched down in California, your nerves were on edge. You had been waiting for this moment ever since Harley had taken your baby girl away, but now that it was here, the reality of it hit you like a wave. You were about to see your daughter again—the little girl you had sacrificed everything for.

Jason stood beside you, silent but reassuring, as you both made your way to the small suburban house where your daughter was living. The family that had taken her in was kind, compassionate, and had kept their promise to Harley to protect her. You knew she had been safe all these years, but that didn’t stop the anxiety that clawed at your chest.

When you finally arrived, your heart felt like it might burst out of your chest. Jason looked at you, his expression softening as he reached out to place a hand on your shoulder. "You ready?"

You nodded, though your hands were shaking. "Yeah. I’m ready."

The door opened slowly, and there she was—your daughter, your little girl. She was older now, her wide eyes staring up at you with curiosity. She had your eyes, and Jason’s dark hair.

She looked at you with innocent wonder, then at Jason, and finally spoke.

"Who are you?"

You knelt down, your voice trembling as you smiled softly at her. "Hi, sweetheart. My name is (Y/N). I’m your mom. And this is your big brother, Jason."

Jason knelt down beside you, his usually hard exterior softening as he looked at the little girl. "Hey there, kiddo," he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I’m your brother."

The little girl blinked, her gaze darting between the two of you before she smiled—a smile so pure, so innocent, it nearly broke you all over again.

"Brother?" she asked, her voice full of wonder.

Jason nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "Yeah. I’m your big brother. And I’m gonna keep you safe."

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. You had found her. You had found your baby girl. And together—with Jason by your side—you would make sure she was safe.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

California had become a haven for you and Amara—a chance to rebuild, to reclaim a life that had once been shattered beyond recognition. You had shed the name (Y/N) Wayne and everything it came with. You weren’t Batmom here, you weren’t Gotham’s fallen hero. You were just a mother, trying to raise her daughter in peace, far away from the shadows that once consumed your life. Jason’s connections had made it possible to start fresh. You found a small, comfortable place, and while it wasn’t Wayne Manor, it was your own space—a space free from the ghosts of the past.

Amara, your beautiful little girl, had been your light through the darkness. She was a bundle of energy and curiosity, her laughter filling the house in a way that soothed the ache in your heart. She didn’t know the weight of your past, didn’t know the sorrow or loss that had once defined you. To her, you were just “Mommy,” and Jason was her beloved “Jayjay,” the brother she adored more than anything.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you had found a semblance of peace.

But peace never seemed to last.

One quiet afternoon, as you were cleaning up after lunch and Amara was playing with her toys, a knock came at the door. You paused, wiping your hands on a towel as you frowned slightly. You weren’t expecting anyone. Jason usually gave you a heads-up when he was visiting, and you hadn’t heard from him today.

Curious, and a little cautious, you made your way to the door and opened it.

The sight that greeted you made your heart skip a beat.

There, standing in the doorway, was Jason. He looked tired, his face a little more worn than the last time you saw him, but he was still your boy. Before you could even greet him, a small, joyful scream filled the air.

“Jayjay!” Amara squealed, her little legs pumping as she rushed forward, arms outstretched. Jason barely had time to react before she launched herself at him, and he scooped her up effortlessly, spinning her around with a grin.

“Hey, kiddo,” Jason murmured, his voice softer than usual as he held her close. “I missed you.”

Amara giggled, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck. “I missed you too, Jayjay! Where were you?”

Jason glanced at you, his eyes heavy with something you couldn’t quite place—regret, maybe? Guilt? You weren’t sure. Your stomach twisted as you stepped forward, watching the way his expression shifted, his grip on Amara tightening just a little.

"Jason?" you asked, your voice cautious. "What’s going on?"

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pressed a kiss to Amara’s forehead, setting her back down gently before turning his gaze back to you. There was something in his eyes—something that made your heart clench. He swallowed hard, his voice quiet, almost fragile.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology caught you off guard, confusion swirling in your mind. "What are you talking about?"

Jason stepped aside then, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stop.

Standing behind him, just a few feet away, were Dick and Tim.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you took in the sight of them. They hadn’t changed much—Dick still had that familiar softness in his eyes, the kind that could break you with a single glance. Tim stood next to him, his jaw clenched, his expression more controlled but no less emotional. They were staring at you as if they were seeing a ghost, their eyes wide and brimming with tears.

You hadn’t seen them since… since everything fell apart.

“Mom?” Dick’s voice cracked as he took a step forward, his usual composure slipping. His eyes were shining, tears threatening to spill over as he looked at you—really looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe you were standing there.

Tim’s lips parted, but no words came out. He just stared, his hands trembling slightly at his sides, his breath coming in short, shaky bursts.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a thousand emotions swirling in your mind. Fear. Guilt. Joy. Heartache. You wanted to run to them, to wrap them in your arms and never let go. But you were frozen, the weight of your past crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You had left them. You had left everything behind. And now they were here, standing in front of you, looking at you like you were still the mother they remembered.

But you weren’t that woman anymore.

"Why..." you began, your voice trembling as you struggled to find the right words. "Why are you here?"

Dick took another step forward, his hands clenched at his sides as he tried to keep himself composed. "We… we didn’t know," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "We didn’t know where you were. Jason… he told us everything. About what happened. About Amara."

Your eyes flickered to Jason, who had his gaze cast down, guilt still etched across his features. You could see now what he had done—he had told them. He had told them about you, about your daughter, about everything that had happened since you left Gotham.

Tim stepped forward then, his voice quiet but filled with emotion. "We’ve been looking for you. For months. We… we thought you were gone. We thought…" He trailed off, his voice breaking as he struggled to hold back the tears.

You felt your heart shatter all over again. They had been looking for you. And you had been hiding, trying to escape the pain of your past, trying to protect yourself and your daughter from the world that had once consumed you.

"I…" You swallowed hard, tears welling in your eyes as you took a shaky breath. "I didn’t think I could ever go back."

Dick took another step forward, his voice soft but desperate. "You don’t have to. But please… don’t shut us out. Not again."

Amara, who had been quietly watching the exchange, tugged on Jason’s jacket, her big, curious eyes looking up at him. "Who are they, Jayjay?"

Jason knelt down beside her, his voice gentle. "They’re your brothers, Amara. This is Dick, and that’s Tim."

Amara blinked, her gaze shifting to the two men standing in front of her. Her little brow furrowed in confusion, but she smiled anyway, her innocent heart too pure to understand the depth of the emotions swirling around her.

"Hi," she said softly, waving a tiny hand.

Dick let out a shaky breath, tears spilling down his cheeks as he knelt down to her level, his smile trembling as he looked at her. "Hi, Amara. It’s… it’s so good to meet you."

Tim followed suit, kneeling beside his brother, his own tears falling silently as he looked at the little girl who was his sister. "Yeah," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "We’ve been waiting to meet you for a long time."

You stood there, watching the scene unfold before you, your heart breaking and healing all at once. For so long, you had tried to escape your past, to protect yourself and your daughter from the pain that Gotham had brought you. But now, standing here, seeing your sons reunited with their sister, you realized something.

You could never truly escape. Gotham would always be a part of you. But maybe—just maybe—you didn’t have to run anymore.

Jason rose to his feet, his eyes meeting yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw hope in his gaze. "They deserve to know you, Ma. And you deserve to have them in your life."

Tears streamed down your face as you looked at your sons—the boys you had raised, the boys you had left behind—and at your daughter, the little girl who had been your reason for surviving.

"Come inside," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion. "Please."

Dick and Tim didn’t hesitate. They moved forward, wrapping you in a tight embrace, their tears mixing with yours as they held you close. You clung to them, your heart full, your chest heaving with sobs as the weight of the past finally began to lift.

You weren’t sure what the future held. But for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could face it. And you weren’t alone anymore.

The air in your small California home was thick with emotions, a mixture of relief, joy, and something darker—something that lingered between the lines of every word spoken. Dick, Tim, and Jason had come back into your life, reuniting with you and Amara after years of separation and heartache. You had thought that this was the beginning of a new chapter, a chance to rebuild the family that had once been torn apart by grief and betrayal. But now, as you sat in your living room, surrounded by your sons, you could sense the tension that still hung in the air.

Dick had been the one to push for answers, to force Jason to reveal where you were after months of chasing him down as Red Hood. And now, sitting beside you, he looked exhausted but determined, his eyes reflecting the weight of the choices that had been made. Jason sat across from you, his expression guarded, though there was a softness in his eyes as he watched you interact with his brothers and his baby sister.

"I'm sorry I didn’t tell them sooner, Ma," Jason said, his voice low. "I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want anyone to know where you were unless you wanted them to."

You reached out and placed a gentle hand on his, squeezing it softly. "I’m not mad at you, Jason. You did what you thought was best, and I’m grateful for that. But I’m also glad that we’re all together now."

Jason let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. You could tell how much this had been weighing on him—keeping secrets, carrying the burden of your safety all alone.

But even as you said the words, you noticed Tim fidgeting in his seat, his hands twisting in his lap as his eyes darted around the room, avoiding your gaze. You frowned slightly, the motherly instincts you had once thought buried now coming to the forefront.

"Tim?" you asked, your voice gentle but concerned. "What’s wrong?"

Tim’s eyes shot up to meet yours, panic flashing in his expression as he seemed to wrestle with something inside himself. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if debating whether or not to speak. But before you could ask him again, the words came tumbling out, rushed and panicked.

"Bruce has a biological son," Tim blurted, his voice shaking. "His name’s Damian, and his mother is Talia al Ghul."

The room fell into a suffocating silence.

You sat there, staring at Tim, your mind struggling to process what he had just said. A biological son? Your chest tightened as the implications hit you like a freight train, the betrayal slamming into you all over again. You had spent months in Arkham, suffering, isolated, broken, and now you were being told that Bruce had a son with another woman—a woman you knew all too well. Talia.

Your hands shook as you looked down at the floor, trying to steady your breath, trying to stop the flood of emotions threatening to consume you. Amara sat on the floor nearby, still playing with her toys, oblivious to the storm brewing in the room.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to speak. "Did Bruce cheat on me?"

Tim’s face paled, his eyes wide with guilt as he shook his head quickly. "I-I don’t know. None of us really know much about it. Damian just… showed up one day. Talia brought him to Gotham. It was all a shock to everyone."

Dick nodded, his face tight with concern. "We were all blindsided by it, Mom. Damian’s been trained by the League of Assassins his whole life. He’s… complicated. But we don’t know when or how it happened. Bruce never told us."

Jason, who had been quiet throughout the revelation, ran a hand through his hair, his expression grim. "I wasn’t there when Damian came into the picture either, Ma. I had no idea."

You bit down hard on your bottom lip, willing yourself not to cry, not to let the pain overtake you. You had been through so much—losing Jason, losing your freedom, losing everything you had ever known because of Bruce. And now, this?

You took a deep breath and turned your gaze to Amara, who was still playing happily with her toys, blissfully unaware of the tension in the room. She had been your reason for surviving, your light in the darkest of times. And you had promised yourself, after everything, that you would protect her from the pain and heartache that had consumed your life.

"Amara," you said gently, your voice trembling as you spoke to your daughter, "why don’t you go play in your room for a little while? Mommy needs to talk to your brothers."

Amara looked up at you, her big eyes wide with curiosity. She hesitated for a moment, sensing the shift in the room, but eventually nodded and grabbed her favorite stuffed animal before heading off to her room.

Once she was gone, you turned back to the boys, your heart aching as you looked at their faces, so full of pain and confusion. You knew they had questions, they had worries, but right now, all you could think about was the betrayal, the loss.

"I can’t go back to Gotham," you said, your voice breaking. "I can’t… I can’t ever see Bruce again."

Dick’s face fell, his eyes filled with sorrow as he reached out, placing a hand on your knee. "Mom… I know this is a lot. But what if Amara asks about her dad one day? What are you going to tell her?"

Your heart clenched at the thought of it—at the thought of your little girl asking about Bruce, the man who had fathered her but who had also abandoned you. You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes as you tried to find the right words.

"Amara won’t know Bruce is her father," you said, your voice firm but shaky. "She doesn’t need to know. Not after everything he did. Not after he left me to rot in Arkham."

Tim’s eyes filled with tears as he listened, his hands trembling as he clutched his knees. "But… but he’s still her dad."

You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks as the pain of it all threatened to swallow you whole. "No, Tim. I went through hell because of Bruce. I lost Jason because of Bruce. I lost everything. And I won’t let him take Amara too. She’ll never know who he really is."

Jason, who had been silent, clenched his fists, his eyes dark with anger. "You’re right, Ma. You don’t owe Bruce anything. He doesn’t deserve to be part of her life. Not after what he did to you."

Dick’s face crumpled, his hands tightening into fists as he looked between you and his brothers, struggling to find the words. "But he’s our dad too, Mom. And Amara… she’s part of this family. She deserves to know where she comes from."

"Where she comes from?" you repeated, your voice trembling with barely restrained fury. "Where she comes from is pain and loss. That’s all Bruce has ever given me, Dick. He abandoned me when I needed him the most. He left me to die in that place. And I can never, never forget that."

Dick’s eyes filled with tears as he listened to your words, his heart breaking at the sight of you so shattered, so full of anger and pain. But he didn’t push you. He couldn’t. He knew how deep the scars ran, how much you had suffered. And he knew that trying to change your mind now would only hurt you more.

"Okay," Dick whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Okay, Mom. I won’t push you."

You let out a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you wiped the tears from your cheeks. The room was silent, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. You loved your sons—more than anything in the world. But Bruce? He was a different story. He had broken you in ways you weren’t sure you could ever recover from.

"I love you boys," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "You’re always welcome here. This is your home, as much as it’s mine and Amara’s. But I can’t… I can’t go back. Not to him."

Jason nodded, his jaw tight as he rose to his feet. "We get it, Ma. We’re not going anywhere."

Tim stood as well, his eyes red-rimmed with unshed tears. "We’re not leaving you again, Mom."

Dick hesitated for a moment, his heart breaking at the sight of you so full of pain. But eventually, he stood too, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, comforting embrace. "We’re here. We’re not leaving you."

And in that moment, surrounded by your sons, you realized something. Maybe you couldn’t go back to Gotham. Maybe you couldn’t face Bruce ever again. But you weren’t alone. You still had your family—your sons, your daughter. And for now, that was enough.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Here’s a really really angsty ask. But I think there’s so very interesting implications in it.

What if instead of Damien killing Dick that night at Arkham. (In the injustice universe) he ends up killing batdad. How does that play out you think?

Ooooh, that's an interesting one.

In the Injustice universe, it's a subtle difference from the mainline one. The people are all slightly worse, with some exceptions, and if Batdad was still the same as we know him, he'd probably not want to associate with them on instinct, and so it makes sense that this world's Batman is more distant from them, while Batdad encouraged and became a part of the League in his own right.

What I'm saying is that this version of Batdad wouldn't have been as good friends with the other heroes and probably wouldn't have been on Superman's side. And as a person with no actual secret identity, he's free to operate against Superman without being doxxed. So in a way, and this is no shade to Dick, it's just as emotional of a blow, but a bit bigger one politically.

So in the few months of fallout after Metropolis, after the Joker's murder, Batdad has suspended Clark from the League on compassionate leave, to get him a mental health break. Publicly, he does promote doubt, ensuring it is known that Clark is suffering from incredible grief. He might even meet with the Kents to further this. Recall that this Batdad has lost two sons - Tim and the rest of the Titans are presumed dead because they fought Superman after he killed the Joker and got locked in the Phantom Zone by him, and Jason was killed by the Joker and had not been resurrected yet.

So, Superman announces he's gonna vacate (read: kill) all the criminals in Arkham, and Damian backs him. Dick goes there to protect him, and Bruce tries to get through to Superman. In this case, I'd say Batdad shows up to try and protect the innocents in Arkham and/or also talk to Damian and Clark. In canon injustice, Damian accidentally killed Dick, throwing a baton at him while he was off-guard, striking him in the temple and Dick's neck breaks when he trips over rubble after being stunned by it.

I don't see Damian intentionally throwing a baton at Batdad, but perhaps in his rage, his aim is off, and he tries to protect Batdad from an assailant and accidentally hits him instead. So, Dick and Bruce come across Damian cradling Batdad's dead body, clearly killed by him. I think Dick would be willing to hear him out, but Bruce, like he is with Dick's death, is shattered and disowns Damian.

Dick being alive is a big difference, because of his superpower. I don't mean any special ability beyond him just being incredibly likable to a wide variety of people. The League, villains, civilians, the Batfam, he's the go-between for them all because of his kindness, compassion, and sheer likability. So while Batdad's death is a big blow because he's got a lot of public pull, and the Regime can get justification by using Batdad as a martyr. But Dick has a lot of personal connections with the major players, and could probably get through to most of the Regime apart from Wonder Woman, Yellow Lantern, and Kal.

[peppersonironi]

How I Picture a Batfam Age Reversal

I’m going to write this as a fic (And I want to go on into a young justice world where dick forms the team and his siblings are protective) but here is the outline in bullet points in case anyone is interested. Please note this is VERY first draft.

Ages (At end) & Order:

Damian- 24

Duke- 21

Stephanie- 20

Tim- 21

Cassandra- 19

Jason- 19

Barbara- 15

Dick- 13

Damian is Ten when he is sent to live w/ his father. Bruce is 30.

They don’t really work well together at first. But Selina, Alfred, and Clark somehow get it through Bruce’s thick skull that he has to care for this child.

Damian keeps sneaking out on patrol, against B’s wishes. Eventually, he let’s Damian join and tells him to choose a name (Not what we meant, Bruce!)

Damian wants to go for something like Shadow, or Demon, but Bruce puts his foot down. He says that Damian shouldn’t try to be darkness.

Damian is pouting in the gardens when he finds a wounded robin. It’s wing is broken. He demands that the animal should be taken to a shelter, and carries it in his hand the whole way there.

The bird makes it, and Damian demands to be called Robin. He designs his suit, going slightly more colorful. “I might be called Robin, but I am NOT wearing brown, Pennyworth.”

Bruce introduces him to Superboy (Jon, note: less age dif) and the pair are close friends.

He is Robin for a little over seven years before he begins to fight with Bruce about being allowed to patrol alone, and being his own hero. (basically what happened w/ Dick).

Damian leaves Gotham, opting to claim Bludhaven. Jon joins him. He suggests they call each other Nightwing and Flamebird. Damian thinks it’s a bit childish, but he can’t say no to Jon. They’re costumes are here. (done by @hyperactive-lectiophile! Fantastic job!)

They eventually realize they’re in love w/ each other, all while trying to figure their lives  out. Damian briefly tries to join the police. He hates it. Eventually, he enrolls in BH college for a major in Art and a minor in business.

Later in Gotham, the We Are Robin/Robin War stuff happens. Long story short, Duke is adopted. 

Damian is angry to find out he has a new brother, goes to Gotham to yell at Bruce, but then meets Duke. They bond, and are close siblings. Damian makes his father promise to not adopt any more strays.

Stephanie Brown wants to stop her Father, so she sews up a costume and goes out as Batgirl. Bruce is apprehensive at first, but his family basically yells at him to train the poor girl before she gets hurt.

He does, and after Steph meets Damian, who she absolutely adores (He loves her too. The way she pisses his father off is legendary), Stephanie decides she wants to be Robin. Batgirl was good for dealing with her father, but she wants to belong to this new family, and, w/ Damian’s blessing, she makes a new costume.

Unfortunately, after a while, Stephanie is killed by Black Mask (her death is faked, like in the comics, but the Fam doesn’t know)

Enter Tim Drake. Batman has been going crazy over grief, and not even Nightwing, Catwoman (this is SOOOO batcat, btw) or The Signal can calm him down. Tim steps right up, and demands to be robin.

Damian and Bruce fight over this. Surprisingly, Damian is the one who thinks Tim should be given a chance. He sees how his father has been acting. Damian knows that Tim must be brilliant to figure out their identities, and thinks that should count for something. Duke takes his side, knowing that it takes guts to talk to batman, and be willing to join him. Bruce, meanwhile, is a constant chant of “no more dead robins”. After a while, and lots of arguing, Tim takes his place as Robin. They redesign the suit, and he takes his place as robin.

It’s little while after this that Stephanie comes back. Tim offers Robin back, but Stephanie declines. They talk and grow closer. At one point they talk about Stephanie’s new moniker. She says she doesn’t want to be Batgirl either. She wants something new. Tim suggests Spoiler (Bad pun turned brilliant idea?).

Cassandra Cain arrives on the scene next. She saves the commissioner’s life (like No Man’s Land, minus No Man’s Land), and Stephanie immediately imprints on this tiny assassin child (So do the rest of the family, but Steph claims the fourteen-year old first. She and Bruce fight over custody.). She offers Cass Batgirl. Gotham gained a new vigilante, and Bruce Wayne adopted a new child. (Faster than the comics, I KNOW. But Cass deserves happiness)

Everyone loves their new sister, and everyone spoils her. Duke is the one to take her to a ballet the first time. She immediately begs to be put into lessons.

Somewhere in here Tim’s mom dies and his dad is in a coma. Bruce takes him in.

Eventually, Bruce decides to offer Tim Red Robin, hoping to avoid the strife he had with Damian. (Like in the comics, Bruce was going to give Jason Red Robin)

Tim is unsure of this, and puts off deciding. Then little Jason Peter Todd decides to jack the tires of the batmobile and is immediately taken in.

Everyone is captivated by the tiniest addition to their family, but it's also at this time that Jack Drake finds out about Robin and forces Tim to quit. Tim gives Jason his blessing to become Robin.

Everyone pitches in on helping train the newest Robin. Damian teaches the kid things he learned from the league (non-lethal things, since Damian loves this kid), Duke teaches him escrima fighting, Stephanie (Much to Bruce’s dismay) has a full seminar of the delicacies of glitter bomb making. Tim teaches the kid hacking, when he can get away from his dad. 

Unfortunately, when Jason has been Robin for almost a year, he is killed by the Joker.

The family is torn apart by greif. But this time around, Bruce has a much larger support system. All of them lean on each other.

The only time that Damian ever broke his no-kill rule while living with his father was to kill the Joker. He hunted and murdered the clown, sparing Harley. He had been friends with Quinzel since he was Robin, and knew how the Joker treated her. Harley became the batfam’s honorary aunt after this.

Bruce was too emotionally tired to fight with Damian over his actions, so no one said anything. Eventually, Bruce and Damian did argue. Damian refused to apologize,, though he did promise his father to never kill again. Their relationship was strained for a while, but they worked through it.

Less than a year later, Jack Drake dies, and Tim comes back onto the vigilante scene. He refuses to become Robin, however, choosing to take Bruce up on his offer and become Red Robin. He designs his own suit, and the world seems to slowly become normal. Or some semblance of it.

One night, the circus is in town and the whole family (except Alfred) is home. Duke, Tim, and Steph drag Bruce, Cass, and Damian to go see it.

It is on this night that Dick Grayson’s parents fall to their death. Dick is sent to live in juvi, meanwhile Bruce tries to adopt Dick. He succeeds, and the manor once again has a bright young child running through it’s halls.

Dick figures out the secret identities of his family and instantly demands to be allowed out. He wants to take down Zucko, and won’t settle for every single member hunting for him. Dick wants to take down his parent’s murdered himself. He tries to sneak out multiple times, but is always stopped.

Damian talks to Dick (They are extremely close) and explains the origins of Robin. He says that the mantle was born out of a want to distance himself from the revenge and violence of the league. Dick cries when he learns this and says that his own parents used to call him Robin. He suggests that the mantle is more than a personal need. Robin is Family.

Damian almost immediately demands that Dick be trained and help catch Zucko. Bruce is confused, as before, Damian was strongly against letting a nine-year-old fight crime. Damian explains (after much cajoling. He might be more emotionally open and healthy than when he first arrived in the manor, but the kid is still constipated) what Dick had said, and that Damian understands the kid’s need for direction. “When I first came here, I needed Robin. I might not have known it, but I did. Richard needs Robin now, as well.”

The family took sides on the issue, but eventually Dick (with the aid of his puppy-dog-eyes™) won everyone over. He got his own Robin costume, and they caught Zucko.

Dick refused to stop being Robin, and so Gotham gained a new bird.

Dick was Robin for almost two years when The Red Hood made his appearance in Gotham. No one knew what he wanted, as he didn’t seem to do much beyond killing criminals. They thought he was a vigilante at first, but then he began to take over the criminal underbelly of Gotham, regulating crime. On top of that, Red Hood targeted Robin. Attacking the boy wonder when no one else was around. After the red helmeted rogue let loose a few hints about the league of shadows, Damian interrogated his mother, who explained the identity of The Red Hood, and how she had set him on Gotham.

As soon as the family figured out the newcomer’s identity, and the reason he was alive Damian tracked him down. He knew how to deal with pit rage from his childhood, and brought the lost bird back to the nest.

The family was whole for the first time in years. Jason was still angry and resentful, but he had his family back. Jason was grateful for Damian taking revenge for him, and they were once again close. 

Slowly, Jason let everyone back in, including Bruce. Dick is wary at first of this new older brother, but the little chicken nugget quickly warms up to Jason, and even convinces him to teach him how to shoot a gun (In secret, of course, Dami and Bruce would blow a gasket). Jason couldn’t resist the kid. It was physically impossible.

A year later, Cass decides to pursue dance as her career. She gets a job with the Hong Kong Ballet company. She moves there, and decides to take a new moniker: Black Bat. Her family is so proud of her, but they miss her dearly. Duke visits often, bringing new back to the family.

The absence of Batgirl is filled after a while by Barbara Gordan. She makes her own costume and starts going out. Once again, Stephanie Brown adopts a smol bean (Well, not legally. The commissioner is still alive) and outfits her with a more Gotham-friendly suit and weaponry (I.e. heavy kevlar and leather)

Babs is taken whole-heartedly into the fold, and is made an honorary sister.

[mischiefandspirits]

Last Laugh (1 of 3)

“Oh, I noticed,” Red X said lowly, tossing the staff aside. “What that idiot was thinking letting Flamebird send you all the way across the country right after Batkid got blown up, I’ll never know.”

Robin flinched back at the accusation before his fists clenched at his sides. “Then you’ll be happy to know no one sent me here. It’s just where I ended up when Batman decided he didn’t want to work with me anymore and tossed me out.”

The story of how Dick ended up with the Titans in Batkid and Robin.

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

“Richard?”

…

“Richard, may I come in?”

…

“If you do not want me to come in then you need to tell me.”

…

“I’m coming in.”

Light filled the room for a moment then disappeared. The bed shifted and a hand settled on Dick’s back.

…

“Barbara told me what happened.”

Heat. A ringing in his ears. “BATKID!” “Red Wing, please!” Digging. Bodies. “No. Jason.” A mother and son… or a pair of acrobats… Blood. Footprints leading to tire tracks. “My son, I’m so sor-Robin? Robin, get back here!”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

“Why can’t I come with you and Jon?” “You’re not quite ready for a space mission yet, Richard. I’ve talked to Father, though. He said you could patrol with him and Jason until I return so long as you two don’t get into too much trouble.” “We’re not that bad.”

“I’m sorry,” Dick said, his voice hoarse.

“Imagine how mad he’ll be if I’ve clipped the wings of a baby bat and a baby bird on the same day!” Zap! “Haha! Aw Jeez, I hit Batkid harder than that!” “Shut up!” “So,” a groan, “the first Demon Child taught you a,” a hiss, “a few tricks, hahaha!” “I said shut! Up!” “Hahahaha!” “ROBIN!” “B?” “He’s had enough.” “He killed -” “I know. I… I know.” “Don’t worry, Boy Blunder, you’ll join him soon enough!” “What are you talking ab-” “Robin! Move now!” An explosion.

“I killed him.”

The hand started rubbing circles into Dick’s back. “That’s not true.”

“If I hadn’t attacked him like that, if I hadn't beaten him as bad as I did, he would have made it out.”

“He was the one who set off the explosion, Richard. That’s not on you.” The hand shifted up to Dick’s shoulder and tugged him closer to the warm presence next to him.

He pressed his face into the warmth as another hand came up to card through his hair. “B thinks it’s my fault.”

“Father doesn't think anything right now. He’s still processing his grief. We all are. You are not at fault for what happened. If Joker is dead -- and his body still hasn’t been found so we don’t even know if he is finally gone -- then it is no one's fault but his own.”

Dick shook his head. “I shouldn’t’ve attacked him.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “No, you should not have. It was extremely reckless and we… You could have gotten yourself killed. You are extremely lucky Joker had not expected you to be with Father so you were able to catch him off guard. Impulsive behavior… It’s already taken Jason, you can’t let it take you too.”

Dick’s fingers dug into his calves from where his arms were wrapped around his legs.

“I found my mom.” “Batkid? B said -” “It’s okay. She said Joker isn’t here. It’s safe. We’re going to talk inside so no one sees us.” “But -” “I can talk her around, Red Bird. I know I can. Please, don’t tell B. She’s my mom.” “O-okay. Just be careful.” “It’ll be fine. She said he won’t be back for hours.”

She lied.

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“I-That’s not what I mea-”

“Yes, it was.”

Another sigh. The warmth moved away so the hand in his hair could come down to cup his cheek. It brushed away his tears and tilted his head up, but he didn’t look at the face hovering over him. “Richard -”

“I wanna be alone now. Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m tired.”

There was a beat, then the hands and warmth and face moved away. “Alright. Get some rest. I have to go talk to Father. If… I am here if you need anything.”

Dick nodded and laid down with his back to the warmth.

The light came and went.

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

When they returned from Ethiopia, Bruce told Dick he’d be benched for a month. It was partly to give his injuries from the fight with Joker time to heal and partly as punishment for running off to said fight. Damian had agreed when he arrived back on Earth a week later and Dick accepted the punishment without complaint.

By the end, though, he was itching to get out of the manor. He hated being trapped in one place for too long. With the media going crazy over Jason’s death, Bruce had managed to arrange for him to finish the last few weeks of school from home and Damian decided they would remain at the manor instead of heading back to their house in Somerset. It was a longer commute to work and patrol for Damian and meant Dick couldn’t run around the neighborhood to visit with his friends, but it was also more secure against paparazzi.

Dick wouldn’t complain since he knew he deserved it, but it didn’t stop him from feeling trapped.

On the day he was meant to go back on patrol, he was skipping through the halls in anticipation of stretching his wings and releasing the tension that had built up under his grief and guilt. He went looking for Damian once he got home to see if he wanted to spar before dinner. When he couldn’t find him in his room or studio, he went to see if Alfred, Bruce, or Selina knew where he was.

“- for a month. I think that’s a fair amount of time.”

Dick perked up when he heard Damian’s voice and ran up to the door to Bruce’s study.

“I don’t mean he should stay on the bench. I meant Robin should be taken off the roster altogether.”

He froze, hand inches from the doorknob.

“I know he shouldn’t have gone after Joker -”

“It’s not just that. Dick… He never should have been brought into this life. He’s not like us and he was too young.”

“I was younger than him when I started out as Batkid,” Damian snapped.

“You were raised by assassins. He had a normal life before you involved him. He deserves a normal life. I know you wanted to help him, but this isn’t the way.”

Bruce was angry. Dick had known that. He didn’t think Bruce would take Robin away from him though. Robin was… his purpose. His place in the family. Without Robin, he didn’t have any reason to be there. And if he wasn’t there…

“Heard Wayne’s taking Grayson.” “Really? Knew his old man liked strays, but I thought he stuck to animals. Why’s he coming for the kid?” “To honor Brucie’s memory? Hell if I know.” “Well, whatever reason, I hope the kid can behave.” “Yeah. Lord knows Wayne hates people at the best of times, can’t imagine how he’ll take to having a brat running around.” “He’d probably return the kid the first time he acts up. Doubt the poor ***** will get another chance too.”

No, Dick couldn’t lose Robin. But Dick was Damain’s partner and Damian wouldn’t let Bruce do that, right? Right?

Why wasn’t Damian saying anything?

“This is what Richard needs,” Damian finally said after a few moments, but the happiness at his words was overshadowed by the ice sliding down Dick’s spine from how calm Damian sounded.

Why wasn’t he mad anymore?

Was… Was he starting to think Bruce was right?

“No, it isn’t,” Bruce said.

“How is he any different than the rest of us?” Damian asked, voice still calm.

“You were raised by assassins. As was Cass. Duke was in a gang. Tim raised himself in that damn empty mansion and spent years trailing after us through Gotham’s streets with nothing but a camera. And Jason lived on those streets.”

Tearing up, Dick wrapped his arms around himself. He knew he wasn’t as smart or skilled as the others, but he’d thought…

“Dick might not have had a typical childhood, but he had a happy one. He grew up with an entirely different mentality than us. You saw how he looked when he went after Joker.”

Dick flinched. He remembered the rage that had flooded through him. He knew he shouldn’t have gone after Joker. That it was stupid and reckless and wrong. Not justified vengeance, just plain old revenge. The very thing Damian had tried to instill against when he’d started out.

But at the time all he could think was that Jason was dead, had been murdered like his parents, and his family kept dying around him and Joker was to blame. He hadn’t meant to go as far as he did, he hadn’t meant for Joker to die!

He just wanted everyone to be safe.

The worst thing, though, was that as much as he wasn’t proud of how he’d run off and put himself in danger, as terrified as he was that he had killed someone, he didn't regret what he’d done to Joker.

“He doesn’t belong in this life, Damian.”

Dick froze. No. No! Losing Robin was one thing, but to not belong…

“I understand.”

Dick staggered back, hand coming to his mouth as the tears fell. He quickly ran back the way he’d come before the sobs could start.

They couldn’t… They couldn’t!

It was one mistake! It was a bad one, but he knew the others had had bad mistakes too. They couldn’t get rid of him for that, right?

Except the others were Bruce’s sons, and he was just Damian’s foster kid. He thought it hadn’t mattered that he wasn’t really family on paper, but maybe it did.

“You’re not getting a family, circus freak.” “Yeah, foster kids ain’t family. They’re just a paycheck.” “Or some rich bastard’s charity case.” “Either way, no one actually cares about them even if they have to pretend to. And no one would care about someone like you.”

Dick barely stopped himself from slamming the door behind him as he staggered into a closet. He dropped to the floor, pressing his knees into his eyes.

He couldn’t go back to juvie. Losing Robin would be torture, but going back to that hellhouse would kill him. Maybe even literally.

He technically wasn’t as defenseless as he was last time. He was sure he’d probably be able to take anyone that tried to hurt him if he tried, but he wouldn’t be able to try. He wouldn’t be Robin going in. He’d be Dick Grayson, former foster son of Damian Wayne. He couldn’t use any of the skills he’d gained as Robin without risking his identity -- former identity -- and the identities of the rest of the Bats by extension. And he would never do that, even if they did return him.

No, he couldn’t go back to juvie, but where else could he go. It’d been made pretty clear both when he got there and when he left that there was nowhere else he’d be sent. Maybe Babs or Cass would take him? Or maybe they could talk Damian around? Duke, Steph, Tim, and Selina would help, right?

Unless they thought Bruce and Damian were right.

“I understand.”

No, they would talk them around. They had to.

Except Bruce and Damian -- like the rest of the family -- were stubborn. Would the others be able to talk them around before they shipped him off?

Maybe if he could buy them time…

He couldn’t go back to juvie.

Dick scrubbed his eyes and got up to slip out of the closet.

His first stop was the cave. He couldn’t grab his normal suit without anyone noticing, but the updated version had just finished testing and hadn’t yet been equipped with trackers. He stuck it into a lockbox alongside some gear.

Then he was up in his room. He stuck the box into a duffle bag with his travel toiletries.

Before he could grab anything else, there was a knock on his door.

He quietly zipped up the bag and knocked it under the bed as he called, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Richard. Can we talk?”

Dick dropped onto the bed. “Yeah, sure.”

Damian came in with a plate of cookies.

Dick grabbed one, but didn’t press up against his guardian like he normally would.

“You already know why I’m here,” Damian sighed.

“I overheard you talking with Bruce. You’re…” He clenched his fingers around the cookie as he looked up at Damian. “Don’t do this, please. I can be better. I-I won’t do anything like this again, I swear! Please, you can’t! We’re a team. We’re partners! You said so yourself! You cant… you can’t just toss that aside! Toss me aside!”

“It’s not like that, Richard,” Damian said, setting down the plate.

“Then what is it like!” Dick snapped and jumped to his feet, placing them eye-to-eye.

“This life isn’t good for you,” the young man said, meeting his gaze. “Bringing you into it, it was a terrible error in judgment. Father is right. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just doing what’s best for you.”

“It’s not like you forced me into it! I chose this! I want this!”

“You could have been killed, Dick!” Damian said, voice growing louder.

“I’m sorry! I let my emotions get the best of me! But it won’t happen again!”

“It’s over, Dick!”

“No! You can’t do this! I-I won’t let you! You can’t se-”

“Enough!” Damian shouted, then pressed a hand over his face. In a calmer voice, he said, “I’ve made my decision.”

“Dami, please!” Dick felt tears pricking at his eyes as Damian stood up and turned to leave.

“You’re going to stay here until after the funeral next week. We can talk more about what happens after once you’ve calmed down.”

“You can’t do this to me!”

“You’re better off this way.”

“Wayne is going to be the best chance you’re going to get, kiddo. The only good chance, honestly. I really hope this works out for you.”

“I hate you.”

Damian hesitated by the door, then shut it behind him.

Dick couldn’t go back to juvie.

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

Lines quoted or rewritten:

"Imagine how mad he'll be if I've whacked two Boy Wonders on the same day!" - Joker ~ Joker: Last Laugh #6

"Aw... Jeez... I hit Jason a lot harder than that." - Joker ~ Joker: Last Laugh #6

"Bruce... You... You can't! We're a team. We're partners! You said so yourself!" - Dick ~ Robin: Year One #3

"This was all a terrible error in judgment. Gordon was right." - Bruce ~ Robin: Year One #3

"It’s over, Dick! You’re better off this way." - Bruce ~ Robin: Year One #3

[incomingalbatross]

Tonight’s the night for more Catholic Batfam headcanons because I say so.

As outlined in this post, in this world Bruce was raised Catholic, drifted away somewhat in adolescence, and regained his faith and active practice during his Training World Tour. Further thoughts (some of which I’ve already stated, but put together a little better, I think):

Bruce doesn’t have a regular spiritual director in Gotham. Instead he just goes to Confession to a few different parish priests he likes—taking precautions so that people don’t see Bruce Wayne in the Confession lines just to be safe—and starts every Confession with “I’m Batman” because he feels it’s necessary context. This feels logical to me but also highly entertaining.

When he moved back into Wayne Manor and started fixing it up, his first big project outside of the Cave was converting one of the ballrooms into a family chapel. (Yes, the Manor had two ballrooms. Yes, Bruce also thinks that was excessive.) It’s dedicated to St. Michael, with side niches for statues of Our Lady and St. Joseph, and other saints along the walls/in the new stained-glass windows. He can’t keep the Eucharist there, of course, but there’s a Tabernacle built into the altar just to be thorough. Mass could be said there.

He also sets up outdoor Stations of the Cross in the Manor grounds, though that comes later. There’s landscaping and a path to take you through them. He prays the Stations every Friday.

Alfred is a practicing Anglican, BTW. He and Bruce have agreed to disagree, but they don’t hesitate to share their common ground. Alfred does make use of the chapel. (I believe St. Michael is his Confirmation saint here, actually. Which Bruce knew when he designed the chapel.)

When Dick comes along, he’s very much a non-denominational Christian. He was baptized and his parents read the Bible with him and taught him to pray, but living on the road didn’t give them a lot of formal religion. They did have informal services at Haly’s on Sundays, though.

Bruce didn’t want to push him (partly because he’s oversensitive to the idea of “making a kid go against his dead parents”), so he didn’t really actively try to convert him. Dick went to church with him or Alfred, growing up, and remained a believer, but I don’t think he had a deep or a formally religious spiritual life. He does have a great deal of respect for Bruce’s, though.

Then Jason came along.

Jason is a FIERCELY Catholic little Irish-American with a battered rosary he was given for his First Communion and a strong devotion to the Holy Family (because Catherine Todd was a deeply pro-life Catholic woman and raised her boy accordingly, and I will die on this hill). I’m not sure if he’s ever had an opportunity to be an altar server but I know he WANTS it. One of the first and biggest ways he and Bruce click is through their shared Faith.

Bruce has his own chapel! Bruce talks to him about religious things, and helps him get to Mass and the Sacraments, and signed up for regular serving duty at their parish! Bruce buys him saint books and listens to his half-articulate spiritual troubles and understands.

Bruce, meanwhile, is equally blown away by this tiny street child’s vehement love for Our Lady and the Blessed Sacrament and the beauties and stories of the Catholic Church, the way he clings to Holy Mother Church all the more for the absence of an earthly family, and how hungry he is for a stronger spiritual life. Bruce wants to give him everything.

Of course, Jason is far from a perfect child—he struggles with anger, anger which is founded in his hatred of suffering and injustice but which he doesn’t always know what to do with, or how to handle. He loves God deeply, but sometimes—especially as he starts maturing, becoming more and more aware of the world beyond his own life—he finds himself angry at Him, raging against the cruelty and injustice in the world and asking how? why? Why would You allow this?

On the whole, though, Jason is doing okay. He has Bruce, and he has his Faith. He’s confirmed at thirteen, a year after meeting Bruce, and he picks St. John Bosco as his patron saint. He prays to him for help in directing his passions to help the poor and vulnerable, rather than falling into anger and ill-will.

He doesn’t mention it to Bruce, yet, but as he keeps growing up he starts to feel like... maybe... he wants to be a priest? Maybe THAT’S what he’s supposed to do with his life? He keeps thinking about it...slowly, because it’s a Big Deal and he keeps doubting himself and he IS just fifteen, still, and having struggles with his temperament and the effects of of his past. But he keeps feeling more strongly like this is the right path for him.

And then he finds out his mother, who loved him and raised him and gave him everything he has, isn’t his mother. And he goes investigating this, because he has to, he has to know who his other mother is and if he can get to know her.

And then he is murdered, betrayed and and beaten, and still trying desperately to save the woman who sold him to the Joker.

(Jason Todd died a hero’s death and this is ALSO a hill I will die on.)

I haven’t figured out what quirk of the multiverse made Jason NOT 100% dead (the Lazarus Pit can’t bring back really-quite-sincerely-dead people or it would be way too OP and also HORRIFYING), but there’s something. Bat-Mite meddling? Superboy Prime punching the universe is dumb, but it’s DEFINITELY better than Talia stealing Jason’s corpse.

Anyway.

Quite frankly, at this point, Bruce’s faith is the only thing that keeps him sane.

He has his boy buried in the family cemetery, with the funeral Mass in the chapel.

He was really hoping one of his boys would be married there, first. Or even that Jason would say a Mass there, someday.

(He didn’t know Jason had thought about that too, but a parent hopes this kind of hope anyway.)

But no. Jason is buried. Bruce struggles with his own rage, and grief, and despair. He spends a lot of time in the chapel. ...Sometimes it helps.

And then little Tim Drake shows up, INSISTING that “Batman needs a Robin!” And things change again.

Tim (since this is focusing on the religious aspects of characters) is not Catholic. I BELIEVE he’s Protestant (don’t know which type), and likes starting debates with Bruce when things are too quiet. Bruce only engages sometimes, because when it gets too earnest he can be painfully reminded of his discussions with Jason—keep in mind, Jason is the first kid he really DID discuss religion with—and his childishly wholehearted Catholicism and Tim’s cheerfully stubborn Protestant opposition can make for a jarring contrast.

It’s good, though. Bruce doesn’t have anyone to share the fullness of his faith with, again... but that’s just one of the many smaller losses involved in his loss of Jason. He adjusts.

And Tim is earnest about his own faith, even if he doesn’t talk about it much to anyone other than Bruce and Alfred (who he knows also take Christianity seriously and will treat his views with respect). He doesn’t use the chapel as much as either of them—or even Dick, who grew up with it and goes there to pray or even just think things out whenever he’s in residence—but he does use the space sometimes, when he wants guaranteed quiet and a prayerful atmosphere.

He also somehow becomes church friends with Clark Kent, who as an archetypal Midwesterner is PROBABLY Protestant here.

Do he and Clark convert Kon between them? Again, PROBABLY.

...This is very long and it’s getting late, so I will stop here for now. I’d like to do another post on Red Hood and Damian and Bruce’s “death” at some point... we will see how that goes.

EDIT: Also, I forgot! Credit to @why-bless-your-heart for Protestant Tim—all I knew about Tim was that I didn’t know what to do with him, but her take was Good and so I have adopted it. But I should give credit where credit is due.

[taiblogcomics]

Shot Through the Head, And Jason’s To Blame

Hey there, the axe at the end of the bridge. Well, we finished that Suicide Squad arc. Now we'll finish off this Red Hood arc like I promised. It shan't be long. And trust me, you'll know we're there when we're there~

Here's a cover:

"Heroes don't kill... But they're NOT heroes!" And that's what makes it hard to like them. I don't enjoy stories where the protagonist kills people. Anyways, what am I looking at here? A broken mirror? Why? And, like, explain the angle the characters are at to be reflected in this mirror. It's on the floor, right? Where are these characters in relation to that? I don't get it~

So the comic opens with a splash page of the Outlaws team, with some extra bonus additions: Starfire, Roy Harper, and the Creeper are also here. And so is Bizarro's plush doll Pup-Pup, who is talking. From that context clue, I'm gonna guess this is a dream sequence of some kind. It also offers a potential team catchphrase for them: "Outlaws, onward!" Yeah, might want to keep workshopping that. Anyways, if it wasn't obvious enough a dream before, the team then takes out Sinestro, Bane, Metallo, Solomon Grundy, Grodd, and Joker in what's probably supposed to be an awesome fight. And then Bizarro stops Jason from shooting Joker in the head, because "we can afford to temper victory with justice". Yeah.

Anyways, yes, it was a dream sequence. Or, more accurately, a movie Bizarro was watching? I don't know how real to take that. Regardless, we're now over at the grand opening of the Penguin's Coney Island ripoff, "the Ice Patch". Yes, I'm sure your ice-themed beach-side boardwalk theme park is sure to sell gangbusters. Naturally, Penguin's speech is full of thinly-veiled insults to the crowd. Then something explodes, and Jason walks out of the smoke. He tasers both of the Penguin's guards, and reflects that he once promised Batman to never kill in Gotham. Suddenly "never" seems too short for him, and he starts kicking Penguin in the face. What's got him so riled up suddenly? Why, revelations about his father, Willis Todd. Whatchu talkin' 'bout, Jason?

Meanwhile, at the Outlaws' invisible flying base--and yes, that's still a silly phrase to contemplate--Artemis is fighting off the base's automated defenses. These mostly consist of lasers. A giant hologram of Bizarro appears, declaring that the base is now in auto-defense mode and is unsafe, and therefore is going to self-destruct right over the city. This is all because Bizarro's mental state has regressed, and therefore he can't run the base anymore. And if he can't run it, it's time to blow it all up! Artemis refuses to let this happen, and smashes her way inside with her axe.

So if you don't think Jason's serious, he actually unmasks in front of Penguin, declaring Willis Todd to be his father. Penguin's amused, because Jason has just thrown away his secret identity--and Batman's, by association--for a loser. Jason pulls out his gun, and declares he's sick of the whole "catch and release" villain program. Penguin taunts him, saying that no Bat-brat would ever have the stones to shoot him. Jason says that he's not like them: he's his father's child. He puts the gun right against Penguin's monocle (I guess that's what's on the cover, not a mirror. The angles still don't make sense, though, and now the size of the bullet hole doesn't either) and his finger tightens. The Penguin congratulates him, and the gun goes off.

Back over with Bizarro, his film has suddenly burned and disappeared. You know, those filmstrip burns that you see in things but probably haven't seen happen in real life. Bizarro is upset, because he wants to know what happens to Bizarro's story. He wants to know how it ends. Pup-Pup appears from his bucket of popcorn (Pupcorn?) and tells him that it'll end "the same as everyone's". Bizarro insists he tried his best, and he's sad now. Pup-Pup says that trying is never sad, and the pair of them hug. Artemis busts through the wall, and Bizarro identifies her by his old name for her, "Red Her". She recognises that he's fully regressed now and offers her hand, gently leading him out of the facility.

While that's going down (somewhat literally), Jason is now on the run from the police. That's kind of the thing that happens when you shoot a man in the face. He tries radio-ing in to the headquarters, saying he messed up bad. I do love a good understatement. His call is not answered, however, as he looks up and sees the invisble base explode. Okay, now it's literally going down. And meanwhile, in case you forgot, Jason did his thing at a public event. There is camera footage of him shooting the Penguin. It's on the news now. Thousands of people in Gotham have seen it. And one of those people... is the Batman. Batman pulls on his mask and declares that he'll bring Jason in himself.

So, yeah. Jason’s thrown it all away and become a murderer, all for a father he didn’t even like in the first place. The previous issue was very good, and made Jason sympathetic and likeable about his grief. And honestly, he’s thrown all that away here. His sudden jump to “well, let’s murder a guy” seems very jarring and unexplored, and has taken away all my sympathy for the character with it. If we’d gotten to see his reasoning to get to that point, maybe it’d’ve been better, but it comes across here as just a rage-driven revenge kill, and like I said at the beginning of the review, I don’t care for characters who just go around killing. It also sours the rest of the issue, which could have been really good as Bizarro finally reaches the expected end of his “Flowers for Algernon” plot. Bizarro’s terror at confronting his own mortality and simplemindedness and Artemis’ tender care for him could’ve been a really good issue, but it focused too much on Jason’s unfounded revenge boner, and completely killed any good will I might’ve had for this issue along with the Penguin~

[wykart]

A Crack in the Mask

Summary: “Yasmin wasn’t sure who the Doctor was anymore. Everything she thought she knew about the woman – the happy-go-lucky, hyperactive joker, that could melt the resolve of the universe with her compassion – only now was that image pulled away to reveal the struggling, broken, husk of a being underneath. A crack in the mask.“

Ryan, Graham and Yaz get a glimpse of the Doctor’s true nature when she comes to rescue them from the clutches of malicious aliens.

*warning: some pretty graphic violence described*

Check it out on ao3 here

Chapter 3: 

“What?” Ryan breathed, turning to Graham and Yaz, all of which were wearing equally confused expressions. “They made a mistake or something?”

“When the guard cam past earlier, he mustn’t have detected us, he said it was clear.” Graham explained, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Never mind that, we have to get her attention, now!” Yaz said, trying not to panic. “What if she blows up the ship or something?”

“She wouldn’t do that Yaz,” Graham replied, masking his doubt with a friendly grin, “she wouldn’t hurt anyone if it weren’t necessary.”

“Yeah, and she don’t like guns remember?” Ryan added. Yaz nodded in compliance, but still couldn’t shake the idea from her head, couldn’t stop seeing the Doctor’s face gone cold and still, couldn’t stop remembering her courage and determination. If the Doctor thought they were dead, and she really had done all those things the overseer talked about, she would probably destroy this ship without a second thought.

Yaz was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of the Doctor’s voice ringing out through the entrance hall, louder than ever. “Here’s one for your history books,” she said, calm and clear, “I think you’re about to learn how I got my names.” She wore a mask of steel, a terrifying calm barely holding back the storm of icy rage brewing behind her eyes. She was going to kill them. In that moment, Yasmin wasn’t sure who the Doctor was anymore. Everything she thought she knew about the woman – the happy-go-lucky, hyperactive joker, that could melt the resolve of the universe with her compassion – only now was that image pulled away to reveal the struggling, broken, husk of a being underneath. Cracks in the mask. “You see,” she continued, “I was just going to destroy your business and report you to the nearest galactic authority for the trafficking and slaughter of countless level 5 sentient beings – but then, like I said, you went and made it personal."

She stepped forwards slowly, each stride seemed to cause the temperature to plummet another few degrees. The three human captives were mesmerised, and their plan to get the Doctor’s attention lay forgotten. The soldier were teetering on the edge of retreat, their backs flattened against the walls, poised to run – but there was nowhere to go.

The overseer croaked, an involuntary escaping of dread. “W-we were only doing our jobs, that’s just how the business goes, we didn’t know!” It’s voice lowered to a clicking whisper “please, show mercy, please.” Surely now, Yaz thought, you’ve scared them good and proper, now please, find us.

The Doctor ascended the stair case leading up to the overseer’s raised platform. Her battered boots leaving scraps of mud on the clean white surface. Despite the fact that the creature towered at least two feet above her, it shrunk in on itself, and the Doctor’s presence seemed to loom over it like an imposing, immovable statue. “You know,” she chuckled, “you really should have thought of that before you murdered my friends.” She pulled her sonic screwdriver out of her coat pocket and waved it in front of the creatures ever-bulging eyes. “While we’ve all been standing around chatting, I’ve been scanning this ship for structural weaknesses, and –“ she added, as the pointed the glowing tip of the tool right between the creature’s eyes, “I’ve been studying your biology. Now,” she clapped her hands together, pivoting around on her ankles to face the expectant alien crowd, “I’m a stickler for being kind, but I’m not perfect. My friends have always been the best of me, but you’ve taken them away, and now there’s no one here to stop me. No one to keep promises to, no image or example to uphold.” She sighs – even in her silence, the room is deathly still – she takes a deep breath, letting grief out, pulling rage in. “See this,” she indicates her screwdriver, waving it above her head, “I’ve attuned this device to the genetic frequencies of your bodies, think of that – a signal with the power of time lord dimensional engineering cast out and contained within the orbital radius of this ship. Every molecule in every cell in your entire body will start resonating, oscillating in time, brewing with kinetic energy so powerful it will burn. You will unravel.” She explains the concept with sinister enthusiasm, as if this were just another scientific marvel to rattle on about with enthused passion. “Everything you are tangling up together, scrambling the precise sequences that align to allow your existence. It’s a process of it’s own, just like your ‘processed’ my friends!” She was seething, the mounting volume of her voice still hanging in the air.

A heavy clicking sound resonated from the crowd of guards, and the Doctor whipped around to the source, pointing her screwdriver. One of the aliens had drawn its weapon, which sparked and smoked with a deafening crack, and now lay at its feet in a smouldering ruin. “Don’t even think about pointing your guns at me. You must know it won’t work, I can’t die.” The Doctor said, matter-of-factly and with such indifference that Yaz felt a shiver run through her. “See Yaz, pretty good hey?” she whispered, smiling faintly, and for one beautiful moment, Yaz thought the Doctor could see her strained expression, hear the thoughts pounding in her head, screaming ‘no.’ Instead, the Doctor raised her sonic up above her head, and pressed it.

At first, it seemed like nothing was happening. Then, slowly, a haunting feeling began to swell in the space around them. It was a low hum, so low it was difficult to pinpoint it as a sound at all – they felt it, though – it rattled in the spaces between their bones, quivered through their bodies and plucked at their spines like a musician to a pizzicato string. The aliens, however, were more than a little shaken up. They writhed in pain, clutching their heads and rolling on the ground, convulsing. In the centre of it all, indifferent to their whittling, insectile shrieks, stood the Doctor. The three captives watched, horrorstruck, as their dark, scaled skin began to fester and fold away, revealing melting, oozing flesh beneath. Yasmin tried to stop herself from imagining human bodies, boiling and bouncing to the noise – from imagining red blood in place of yellowed flesh. Far off in the bowels of the ship, a crash sounded, sending the ship creaking and jaunting in response. Yasmin thought of the pilots, the guards, all of them reduced to pulp and unable to maintain their course. As the chaos unfolded, the Doctor didn’t move an inch – she simply stared into the building ruin, as if she were looking past it and into another world.

“Yaz, the glass!” Ryan yelled, indicating the one-way mirror, its powerful shielding flickering into non-existence as the ship began to lose power. He reached out, cautious at first, and upon meeting no resistance, he began pounding on the glass, trying to get the Doctor’s attention. Graham and Yaz joined him, all of them screaming, their strangled cries muffled by the sounds of explosions and crumbling metal.

[bidickgrayson]

i’ve finally almost gotten to the place in persona 3 where i stopped playing a couple years ago. just got to october, and i stopped some time in november in my first playthrough

it’s interesting to revisit shinjiro’s death a couple years later, because that death was one of the few things i remembered with any kind of detail. i remember being very angry at the storyline that had a ten-year-old kid plot revenge for the death of his mother. couldn’t really understand that urge/the fact that that kind of storyline was coming from a TEN YEAR OLD

and i’m still not a fan, but i am a little less directly angry with ken. the first time, i wasn’t expecting it, and so i was just angry that ken got shinjiro into a situation where he was killed lol. i had a lot more sympathy for ken this time around, when i knew what was coming the whole time, and could remind myself more rationally that ken didn’t actually kill shinjiro

really where i disagree with the writing around shinjiro’s death the most is around the aftermath, primarily around akihiko’s reaction. first of all, BULLSHIT on the fact that akihiko was like “we need to stop treating ken like a kid” because HE IS A KID!!!! what are you talking about!!!! “he needs to make his own decisions” like OKAY i get that you want to respect his autonomy but....he was just a kid who plotted a revenge-murder of a high schooler who killed his mom in front of him, only to watch in horror as that high schooler THROWS HIMSELF IN FRONT OF A GUNSHOT TO SAVE THE KID’S LIFE and then died in front of the kid. there’s no acknowledgement of the trauma, because they’re trying to treat this precocious ten-year-old like he’s an adult, when frankly, no adult would go through that without some trauma!! it’s just dumb. and i can forgive the sees members for some of it, because this is a bunch of high schoolers dealing with some heavy shit with no good adult supervision (lol @ ikutsuki), and they’re all just kids themselves, so i can’t really blame them for not knowing the best way to handle it and stumbling through on their own

also, what makes it worse is that it was literally just revealed that ken was suicidal/wanted to die like, just a while before, and tbf none of the other sees members knew, but i knew as the audience, and so to have akihiko go like “well, he’s gonna do what he’s gonna do” was so jarring and distressing. GET THIS KID SOME HELP! but. whatever. and then ken of course decides to come back and has a new resolve, and it’s treated as though that’s the really strong thing to do and not a definitely unhealthy lack of concern for mental well-being. “i’m strong so i’m not going to let the multiple traumatic events/my suicidal ideations (as a ten-year-old!) distract me from our mission”

also, back to direct reactions to shinjiro’s death, and maybe this is more personal preference, but i really Cannot Relate at all to akihiko’s resolution in the face of it. i remember that disconnect was jarring to me when i first played it years ago too. because he’s sad, and then very quickly he’s not sad because “it’s what shinjiro would have wanted”. and i just can’t relate to how quick he came to terms with the death, because this was literally akihiko’s oldest friend. and when the other’s express sadness, he’s like, don’t be sad, it’s what shinjiro wanted. LIKE WTF it is still sad??? i just think a better balance between acceptance and grief could have been found, because i really feel like they jumped over the majority of the grief that i would expect from shinjiro’s oldest friend, which is very jarring. but. i mean, who knows, maybe that would be realistic to some. it feels like a shortcut to me tho. i like akihiko, but this particular instance really disconnected me from his character

i’ve heard that with the female protagonist in p3p, you can do a social link so shinjiro doesn’t end up dead. and i’m really curious how that plays out (/why the social link changes it). i just wanna be able to say “YOU’RE A HIGH SCHOOLER, YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE YOUR DEATH IS THE BEST WAY THINGS CAN PLAY OUT ( :( )”

anyway, some other thoughts while i’m here:

my vague recollection of p3 having some social links with ppl who weren’t really good people was correct. or maybe i should say, weren’t people i really found sympathetic. like, the devil link with the shady businessman (which i still haven’t completed), or the magician link with the classmate kenji (he has called me SO MANY TIMES, and i have turned him down every time, because if there’s going to links i don’t complete, i am fine with one of them being his. i just.....am not interested in his quest to fuck his teacher, i don’t enjoy it. i know i completed his in my last playthrough, but i can’t remember how it resolves but....god i could not care less about kenji). then there’s the hermit link with the teacher online (she’s so annoying lol, and i hate that she tells protag that she has a crush on the irl him, like, fuck off. also, she’s such a bad/unsympathetic teacher, it made me really miss kawakami, who had flaws but was ultimately a good teacher imo). oh, then there’s the emperor link with hidetoshi on the student council who....lol, that’s another link i completed last time but have barely touched this time, because i really dislike him. i kinda remember him softening towards the end of the link, but so much of the first part is just about enabling him being a tyrannical class council member which is not fun. and i ultimately like the tower/monk link, but he’s another character who....doesn’t really seem like that nice of a person. but i do like him because he likes the protag

the other links for the most part are good. it’s interesting the differences between p5 and p3 social links, because p5 had a definite theme to all of the links (/the whole game lol) where they were all ultimately good people who were misunderstood/unfairly judged/treated somehow (altho i haven’t done the iwai link all the way through, i imagine it ends up similarly because he’s a somewhat decent person “doing evil to combat evil” iirc). but there’s no real theme for the p3 links as far as i can tell. which makes sense, because in p5 there is a specific reason to have links with them all because they end up helping you, and they all end up as accomplices to all of the crimes the thieves commit lol

i really dislike that you have to romance all of your female classmates in order to complete their social links. what is friendship lol. really really really makes it feel a whole lot cheaper, and really makes it hard for me to care. very glad they stopped making that a requirement in p3p and beyond

what also make it hard for me to care?? the blank and unemotional p3 protagonist lol. i really have a hard time connecting to him, because he doesn’t really do much?? he’s just a blank wall for all of the social links, and it really disconnects me from the emotions of it. some girl will be confessing her feelings to him, and i’m just like, hm, fascinating, who cares, he’s gonna go on a date with another girl tomorrow. it doesn’t feel real to me at all. maybe i’m just totally unfairly biased toward p5 (and i don’t want to compare endlessly, bc p5 is newer and clearly they’ve made many improvements over the years, but it’s the easiest comparison at hand), but when someone talked to joker about how much he meant to them, i bought into it a lot more than i do with mr. low energy, the p3 protag. joker felt like an actual character to me, that i could care about, who i could understand/imagine his feelings and reactions to things. but for the p3 protag, it’s a lot of, well, i GUESS he COULD care about shinjiro dying, but you sure as heck have to read a whole lot into it to get to that conclusion, because the strongest reaction you can make him have to it is to have him tell the callous students at the assembly to “shut up.” which is nice, but hardly anything at all lol. i just find him difficult to project my emotions onto him in the game, unlike joker, who i didn’t have as much trouble believing in his genuine feeling for the people he talked to. i think also, people reacted to joker in a much more specific way that made him more real than the p3 protag, who kind of feels like a ghost most times, except for his social links where he shows up just to say exactly what the other person wants to hear lol. idk, i’m looking forward to replaying p5 and paying more attention to joker this time

(my feelings on the p3 protag are gonna be interesting come end-game, because if i understand correctly from the vague spoilers i’ve gotten about p3, the protag is gonna sacrifice himself to save the world. i keep trying to remind myself/play with that in mind, because i don’t think someone would sacrifice himself if he was actually as unemotional and detached as he sometimes comes across as)

80% of my rage at this game comes from being unable to control my specific party members in battle and so they do things that i don’t want them to, 10% comes from enemy advantage attacks (especially when i swing at them, but they hit me first), 9% comes from this game challenging me/punishing me for being underleveled when i’m playing on easy and don’t want any challenge at all because i want to get past the silly fighting business and back to social links/story, and a special 1% goes to the sleeping table boss in tartarus, which definitely was a primary punisher for me being underleveled and caused me to yell angrily at my screen yesterday

oh, ikutsuki. it’s funny, because p3 was the first persona game i played, and very early on, i was like, i don’t trust ikutsuki at all, so when the reveal came that you should not, in fact, trust ikutsuki, i wasn’t at all surprised. but it’s funny to replay it, knowing that persona likes the “this guy is not what he seems” trope, and realize that...there wasn’t really a specific giveaway instance where ikutsuki said something that was off (a la pancakes, or adachi showing up to a private conversation with interesting timing), it was just a sort of feeling i got about this weird adult who was having these high schoolers be responsible for saving the world, apparently. he really is a terrible terrible advisor though, lol, even knowing he’s evil. it’s sad to realize that the only adult help these kids have got is someone who is absolutely not on their side, and they’re truly on their own