#vigilantes qualms

[most-ment]

Vigilante

At first, I thought I was doing the right thing.

The police were inadequate and the government wasn't listening.

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At the time, I assumed that I was making things better.

Justice! I thought I was the dispenser.

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I thought wrong.

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Taking the laws in my hands,

Only coated them in red.

Justice was something I didn't understand,

Despite all the virtuous things I said.

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I truly thought I was doing the right thing,

But for any one battle I lost, more innocent people were dying.

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At some point, I wanted it to end,

But I could do nothing to erase the bounty on my head.

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Hated by the criminals,

Scorned by the popo.

My problems became anything but trivial

And I tried to hear them solo.

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I couldn't though,

Instead I put in danger anyone I brought close.

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Lost I was.

It was the right thing at first.

It was the right thing I thought.

So much fighting for what?

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Lost in distrust.

I was losing too much.

I was losing my touch.

It was grueling to watch.

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How much more to experience?

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Doing the right thing the wrong way.

I thought a saviour was something I could be.

In trying to shield you from the sun, I only brought harsher rays.

I'm not an hero but a vigilante.

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Hello loves, hope you like the poem. This iss pretty much inspired by whatever vigilante movie or books I've read. Mostly DC

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My vigilante tag list: @jayrealgf @think-through-pen @unforgettable-sensations @mk-ranz @timeflieslikeabanana @jordynhaiku

[poggersbastard]

Prime above, kid.

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

Family Methods

[ Suicide Squad: Get Joker! #3 ]

As much as I rag on this story for implying Jason’s trauma-induced spidey-senses activate when the joker walks into the room, there was some rare mockery of Bruce’s side of the ever-so-tiresome morality debate.

Like, ah yes,

the pinnacle of morality

[kettlefire]

Not Always a Villain (DP x DC Prompt)

Alfred Pennyworth is a man who always stands on business. Despite what the world might think, Alfred is truly the scariest man within the Wayne family.

He is a man of morals, that is correct. There are some lines Alfred refuses to cross. Harming kids is one of them. However, some morals become flexible when it comes to his family.

Alfred isn't Batman. Or any of the other vigilantes under Batman's wing. Alfred is simply a butler, and that's all that matters. He loves his family, deeply and truly. If there is a day when no love is shared, that is the day he is dead.

Despite all that, Alfred is detatched from the vigilante work. His job is to be there for the Wayne family. To offer them help in any way he can. And Alfred always delivers.

Even if it goes unnoticed, just how large of a role he plays.

Alfred is content with his role, with his life. He is more than happy keeping his darker traits hidden and tucked away. Unneeded in a family like the Waynes.

That was until a new villain appeared in the scene. A young man who seemed to strick fear in the hearts of everyone who encountered him. With snow white hair and blood red eyes.

Alfred barely spared a thought to it. Barely paid attention to the chatter about this villain. It wasn't his job to. Alfred was simply a butler, and that was all.

That was until the day it happened. Damian Wayne was sent to the hospital. Bloodied and broken. A truly brutal attack.

When Alfred looked down at the young master. Bruised in a hospital bed with a tube helping him to breathe. Bandages hiding most of the damage, but the whole family knew. This was an extremely close call.

In that moment, Alfred Pennyworth snapped.

He pulled some strings and checked in a few long, overdue favors. Before long, Alfred was on his own mission. He didn't breathe a word of it to Bruce or the others.

Alfred knew they would try to stop him. Or worses, they'll try to join in. This was something Alfred needed to do. Despite being an overall kind-hearted man, Alfred still had the heart of a stone cold killer.

He failed when it had been Jason. Alfred wasn't going to fail Damian. Not another Wayne kid will be failed. Not anymore.

Alfred had been so set on doing it. In taking out this villain before things escalated further. This young man was clearly cold-hearted, willing to hurt anyone and anything.

That's what Alfred thought.

What he believed until the moment he was face to face with the young man. It had been so certain. The man was unbelievably cold. Laughing in the face of Alfred's words, only stroking the old man's anger.

That was until Alfred had landed a hit, and everything shifted.

Blood red eyes suddenly shifted to bright lazarus pit green. The cruel look in those eyes suddenly changed to a horrified guilty expression. The man had stopped the fight in an instant.

Pulling away from Alfred. Terror and guilt clear as day as the villain seemed to retreat. In that moment, it all seemed to click in Alfred's mind.

This wasn't a villain. He wasn't a monster only determined to hurt anyone in his path. He wasn't the Joker.

Even when green eyes turned red once again. Even when the young man struggled and fought against him.

Alfred didn't yield.

He slapped special cuffs on the man, removing the powers he had. Dragged the villain all the way back to the cave.

Even when the anger and recognition flooded everyones' expressions. Alfred didn't stand down. He held strong, refusing to let anyone get their hands on the young man.

The young man that seemed too much like a young boy.

Alfred pushed the crusade to help. Laid his case out. Pulled the trust card. The supposed villain wasn't the person Alfred had beef with.

Not after hour long interrogations. Getting as much information as they could. It was a struggle, but it found an end. Alfred had no qualms with this young man.

No, he quickly learned who was to blame. Who was the person who deserved Alfred's anger. Deserved to pay for what was done. Alfred had a name, and soon... Very soon, that person will be in an obituary. A name was all Alfred needed.

Alfred was going to take down this Freakshow. Even if it was the last thing he could do.

[kaidatheghostdragon]

You know what mixture of AUs i havent seen here yet? Danny x Bruce with de-aged clones!

Bruce and danny are near the same age and meet pretty early in batman's career, maybe even before dick was adopted. Danny is a single dad of infant/toddler twins ellie and dante. (To make them young and at the same age, i imagine they were rescued after both taking serious damage and retreated to their cores, and remerged as newborns about the same time, but i also want to leave this open for others to flesh out.) Timeline-wise, that would probably make them somewhere around jason or tim's age.

So now we have an au where the bat kids are collected into a stable home where bruce and danny are also raising ellie and dante. Bruce is much closer to WFA characterization right from the get-go because danny would whip him into shape.

Tim probably gets adopted because one of the phantoms sniff him out, either living alone in the neighboring mansion, or following the bats and ghosts on patrol.

Talia either stole bruce's (and/or danny's) dna or drugged bruce (it didnt work on danny) to create damian. If bruce was drugged, danny is on a warpath and might even find and rescue damian at a much younger age.

Jason's timeline is the most difficult to predict, and i will forever simp halfa jason, so he's gotta die no matter what changes. I dont think that's terribly difficult because the joker specifically targeted him to lure him out (assuming i understand canon correctly - also this is definitely true in the UtRH animated movie canon). If jason isnt interested in finding his biomom in this au, joker will just find a different bait. Would be cool if danny is able to track down jason's ghost during the six-month down time and brings him home, and a potential point of angst if he revives without his memories as a ghost (and is lost for a while before danny tracks him down again.)

(Danny probably doesn't have the no-killing rule like bruce, so he'd have no qualms killing the joker and detaining/destroying his ghost. If not danny, then jazz would. Bruce conveniently looks the other way.)

Batman mythology in this universe is inexorably linked to phantom mythology. They both help each other out with vigilante stuff. Danny's team (sam/tucker/val/jazz) visit often and are considered aunts/uncle to the batkids. Batfam is highly liminal because they are part of danny's fraid. They might even develop liminal powers, if that's your kind of headcanon.

Danny may or may not be ghost king, but i like the idea that he's the crown prince and wont be coronated for several more decades. He's got time and all the resources that position affords him. Danny still gets hounded by the observants, but the batkids have made a game of pranking the annoying eyeballs.

Danny is a founding member of the justice league and of jld (the rest of his team might be as well). Batman is much more knowledgeable of the supernatural because of danny. I like the idea of constantine being more terrified of phantom than batman. He still gets called on for advice because he's the demonology and magic expert, while danny specializes more in ghosts and Realms technology.

Ellie and dante are not allowed to join the vigilante scene until they turn 12 (they managed to argue it down from 14), but because of their powers (and potentially retaining memories and experience) there are numerous occasions before then that they functioned as a sort of vigilante retrevial unit - zooming out and retrieving anyone who was injured or otherwise hit their emergency beacon and bringing them straight back to the cave. They might have even done this once or twice during justice league emergencies.

I'll leave their vigilante identities open to discussion, but im partial toward a really old drawing i remember seeing here on tumblr, someone designed a pink batsuit for ellie with exaggerated bat ears, and a sort of glider cloak that attached to her belt or her wrists to disguise her flight as gliding. (If someone knows the post im talking about, please leave a link so the artist can be credited!)

As for danny's old team...

Jazz works at arkham, helping to reform the place and causing many of batman's rogues to reform a bit earlier. She is the expert called in by the justice league to formulate ways to both detain and to help various rogues globally. She especially likes the flash because of the friendly attitude he has towards his own rogues.

Sam is a humanitarian. If she has plant powers, she's using them to establish food stability in poorer nations, helping the people there become more self-sustaining, as well as providing relief for disaster-stricken areas whose farms need to be completely rebuilt and regrown. Jazz introduces her to poison ivy, and the two end up joined at the hip, helping to reform ivy much earlier. (Would it be weird to make this au have sam x ivy and jazz x harley?)

Valerie probably stays in Amity Park to be its designated hero since danny moved out. If the fentons are good, she works alongside them as the fentons also develop tech for the justice league. If they arent, im gonna assume theyre the reason dante and ellie got de-aged, danny absconded with their cores to keep them safe, and the rest of team phantom descended on the fenton parents like hungry wolves. When the dust settled, valerie and her dad were left in charge of protecting amity and with ownership of fentonworks.

Tucker is a freelance hacker slash tech expert, and will kit out any vigilante's tech and security free of charge. His unique blend of magitech is very difficult to counter, making it all-the-more sought after. He probably helped set oracle up and maybe even trained/mentored barb to some extent.

There are lots of other potential changes, but ill stop here.

[mytragedyperson]

So I was reading a TCF reaction fic, I think it was Beginning of the End by who-stole-my-fries. And in that one of the Choi Hans, TCF Choi Han I think, was talking about what happened at Harris Village. And he said something like "I used to wonder how anyone could take another person's life. After that [the assassination of Harris Village], I realised how blind I'd been". Something along those lines.

What a line. What a line to have in a fanfiction. What a line to have Choi Han, the protagonist of The Birth of a Hero, the hero of a story and a hero in this world too, say. And it doesn't really matter which Choi Han said it, because it was referring to an event they both experienced, so we can assume that they both had this realisation.

This somewhat but not really links to an interesting theme among Cale and his friends and family. Because they are heroes, they're saving their world and other worlds and saving people. But none of them are completely pure or morally white. They all have, can and will do evil sadistic things to the people who hurt those they care about and put them in danger and they won't feel remorse for it. They have no qualms about killing or torturing or getting revenge. Because, yes, they're saving the world, but one of their main motivations, main reasons for doing this, is each other, to keep each other safe, to protect each other, to get revenge on behalf of each other. They only do those things to evil people, villains, but it's so interesting, because I feel like if you put them in other worlds, not their story but other stories, they'd be seen as vigilantes or even, in worlds with black and white morality, villains.

And I always think that's really cool. When a story doesn't have that black and white morality, when the heroes have to do "bad" thongs to win. Because really what's the alternative? They don't kill or torture people, they let them live, imprison them or something. Considering some of the villains are gods and others have special powers and abilities, that won't work. And these people aren't going to change their minds and suddenly abandon goals they've been working towards for decades and centuries. There is no alternative.

Or maybe there is. Realistically Venion could have simply been imprisoned, left with the knowledge that the brother he hates, the brother he thought he'd got rid of, had the position he always wanted as Marquis. But he tortured a child, a child dragon, but still a child. So is imprisonment punishment enough? I'd say no. Not for this. For abusing and torturing a child since they were born.

And that's one of the reasons I love these stories. Because there are so many stories where the villain is allowed to live at the end, hoping that justice, the system, will deal with them. But sometimes, sometimes revenge is understandable, sometimes the only way to stop the villain, is to kill them.

Choi Han wondered how anyone could kill another person. But then people came for his family, his friends everyone he knew and cared about, and he realised how blind he'd been.

Sorry, idk what this was. That one sentence or couple sentences from a fanfiction just stuck in my brain, not the exact words but the meaning. Ugh, god, I love TCF and I love fanfictions based on TCF.

[cerastes]

I was wondering, are there any characters in Arknights that on the surface are jokesters, but anre actually immensely deep and powerful? I know about characters like Jaye and Nothing, but they aren’t particularly funny and casual. What I’m looking for is someone like Sans, basically.

"Nothing isn't particularly funny" oh we're just fundamentally different people then because I smile like a babe listening to jingling keys every time he's in the scene.

In the exact same regard as Sans, 1:1? Not really. Similar enough in some regards or in essence that they warrant mention? Yeah, I'd say so.

Aak is a good case, I'd say. Aak is a very casual guy, perhaps excessively so, referring to Doctor as "my dude" and in general having a very whimsical whistle to his steps, not to mention his seemingly jovial soul. Then you dig a bit deeper and you realize, well, despite the way he behaves, he takes what he does extremely seriously and is one of the most ruthless characters in the cast as a whole, in addition to being a medical sciences prodigy the likes of which Terra has seldom seen, and being infamous in the criminal underworld as a vigilante and executioner that has no qualms disposing of a mother fucker, if said fornicator of moms is a criminal and adversely affects others. See, the thing with Aak is that he, for the longest time, hated being so good at the medical sciences, because as he saw with his own twisted father, a brutal underworld doctor and criminal, curing illnesses doesn't begin to truly rid the common man of their suffering: There are always oppressors, abusers, those who selfishly make lives difficult for others for their own gain. Aak believes that to be a truly good "doctor", he needs to eliminate the root cause of the people's suffering: Criminals that will hurt them. Since his cooperation with Rhodes Island, his views have shifted a bit for the better (understanding people better, finding a good friend that shares his latent curiosity and love for the medical sciences and research in Warfarin), but it's still evident that Aak remains an unstable vat of fluoroantimonic acid waiting to bubble over, if the right trigger is present. He's not particularly powerful, with all his evaluations being "Normal" and "Standard", but his ruthlessness, his knowledge of the underworld, and his deep knowledge of medical sciences do make him quite dangerous despite "my dude"ing you.

Ceobe is the other one that comes to mind. Ceobe basically replicates the experience of having a big dumb loving dog, not just with Doctor, but with others as well, such as her canonical friends Vulcan and Sesa (Sesa being someone that also qualifies imo), and is in general a fun goober that livens up every scene she's in on virtue of, well, being a big dumb loving dog with all that entails: She WILL break into the kitchen even though she knows it's forbidden for her to do this, she WILL steal food, she WILL whimper and apologize, she WILL grow immensely defensive over her loved ones over things like "a loud vacuum cleaner" and WILL act over any perceived threat with maximum power; the entirety of Integrated Strategies 1, Ceobe's Fungimist, comes about because Ceobe gets high on hallucinogenic mushrooms she found in the jungle, and goes apeshit because she imagines this whole scenario where Villains have kidnapped Doctor and only she and whatever friends she can recruit on the way can save them, resulting in her beating the absolute shit out of numerous warrior tribes Dynasty Warriors style. Let's talk about that last part! She beat the absolute shit out of numerous warrior tribes Dynasty Warriors style while high as fuck on shrooms. She can do that! Because Ceobe is actually fucking shredded. Despite being a Funny Dog, Ceobe is a legitimately Arts genius, having no formal training and yet being able to use Arts with no problem, almost instinctively, as well as simply being able to harness pretty much any weapon she touches and empower them further with her Arts. Part of this is definitely because she's VERY Infected, but not even that explains just the sheer magnitude and expertise with which Ceobe seems to use her Arts. And speaking of? She dragged herself, across much of Terra, while incredibly Infected and with no care at all.

Ceobe, by all rights, should be dead. Not even the Medic Operator that wrote her medical file has a lot of faith, and her Oripathy is explicitly very grave and only getting worse. And even in this state, she dragged herself and the small arsenal strapped to her back across the world.

Her Physiological Endurance rank of Outstanding is no joke. Keep in mind, this is a rank equivalent to the toughest and most resilient characters we know of, such as Specter and Hoshiguma.

This is all stuff you'll only ever realize about Ceobe if you pay attention, because she's almost exclusively used for comedic relief, but the funny dog is actually a natural archmage and weaponmaster that just won't fucking die, if we were to use more fantasy adjacent terms for her.

There's more (like Sesa) but those two are the ones that jumped to mind.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 7 - running from a crucifixion

Dp x DC AU: Regent!Jazz & Vigilante!Jazz

"Look, to you I'm different- it's 'cause I refuse to listen to all the stupid shit that you include in your opinion. I got enough issues trying to be a human living in a ruined system while I'm running from a crucifixion." -Monster in Me by From Ashes to New

Masterlist Part 6

Jazz felt a shiver run down her spine. 

Currently in her office sorting through another pile of paperwork, the Regent hadn’t been bothered by any denzien for the past few hours thanks to the guard outside her door barring all but a select few. It’d been nice to demolish one of the piles that weighed down her desk.

She had a feeling that Danny was doing something stupid. Or reckless, but she was betting on stupid.  

Her little brother had finally healed enough to transform into Phantom to join her nightly patrols, a welcome addition to her mostly routine nights so far, and Jason’s proto-core was healing at a decent rate. Frostbite’s original timeline for him to wake up probably was on point, if he continued to adjust to the pure ecto in his system as he had been so far. It was good news for the Fentons, soon they would be able to move Jason back to his haunt. And Jazz could get her bed back. 

(She ignored the part of her that would miss his firm presence at her back, the jumble of limbs she had to untangle herself from every time she left the bed.) 

(Jason seemed to gravitate to her proto-core’s warmth.)

(It did not make Jazz happy. Not at all.) 

(Frostbite had only offered her a secretive smirk at her questioning of how attracted attached she was to the once-revenant.)

(Damn Yeti.)

A moment taken to clear her head of such thoughts, Jazz stood up from her desk to stretch her heavy limbs. Life was settling, oddly enough, but when would that change? 

Witching Hours patrol was, admittedly, Jazz’s favorite time of night- Crime Alley was alive while the world outside slept. There were good people who called the Alley their home, their haunt if you will, and the Regent found herself gravitating towards the street walkers when she wanted company during the slow moments. 

They were people doing a job and Jazz had nothing but respect for them. Interwoven as a tight-knit community, a new vigilante hanging about was disconcerting. The Regent was a steadfast presence though and was gradually wearing them down, but Jazz was sure her willingness to beat down the assholes who push their luck helped her case. 

Armored to the teeth with her ecto-sword at her side, she kept a watchful eye during the Alley’s Witching Hours patrol. The big bat himself had refused to cross into the Hood’s territory, but a few of the birds and smaller bats had no such qualm. 

With the King and his Regent’s aid of the Haunt of the Red Hood, the Shades that claimed shelter from larger predators would eagerly warn of approaching intruders, especially those that came with less than neutral intent.

Robin was one such intruder. 

The  youngest of the flock, a fellow sword wielding vigilante, the Robin was a strange bird. 

He felt like Jason did now, but younger, less corrupt than the ecto in the once-Revenant. Perhaps it was due to his age, but there was little doubt that the baby bird would become a powerful baby ghost when it was his time. 

(Lady Gotham had no more of herself left to give, should one of her knights meet an end.) 

(She had given of herself for Jason, the once and Future Hope of Gotham.)

The Regent, brought to attention by a Shade, turned to the Bird in her presence. 

“Good Evening, Robin.” Her voice echoed with a soft cadence. “What brings you to the Hood’s Haunt?” 

The small bird scowled, irritation all but leaking from his very being, “Where is Red Hood?” 

Though he couldn’t see her expression from underneath her helmet, Jazz tried not to let her shock be obvious. 

(What had led the bird to her?)

“Pardon?” 

“Do not waste time, tell me where my brother is and I will not hurt you.” 

(Oh, wasn’t that adorable.) 

Jazz craned her neck farther downward as she stepped closer, not daring to raise her sword from its lowered position at her side. 

The Robin froze as she stood toe to toe with him, the Shades of the Alley surrounding them both as they hissed their displeasure with his threat. 

(Much later, Jazz would soak in the feeling of belonging she received from the Shades.) 

(The Regent was theirs.)

Robin was surely catching the charged energy in the air around them. 

“I do not deal with threats, young bird, when they come from children who should not be heroes.” Jazz hissed, before she softened her tone. “Enough children have died for the sins of their parents.” 

(Danny.) 

(Ellie.) 

(Dan.) 

(Jasmine.) 

“If there is anything I can tell you,” the bird was frozen in shock, perhaps fear, as Jazz continued once more, “Jason will return and he will be free from his corruption, Robin.” 

The Regent did not stick around, instead allowing gravity to bring her down once she jumped from the rooftop. Hopefully Robin would understand something of what she said, but Jazz wasn’t going to get her hopes up. 

Tim did not like mysteries so close to home. 

Home being his siblings, his family, and nothing got his hackles raised more than a mystery that threatened the safety of his people. 

Jason had vanished, no communication in or out prior to his disappearance almost two weeks prior. Usually not a concern, but the Outlaws were all accounted for and had no knowledge of where Red Hood was. 

Or what he had been up to. 

When trying to find a missing person, it usually helped to know what they had been doing beforehand, but Jason was a miser when it came to his personal interests- which included civilian and vigilante activities. Sure, he allowed Oracle to connect him to the main channel, but he had yet to use it. 

Then there were the trackers. 

Tim had three of his own in each of his siblings, one for mask and uniform and two that could be used to record vitals remotely. Bruce had approved of such paranoid foresight, of course he did, and his siblings had only accepted it and moved in, but Jason had adamantly refused Bat-monitoring of any kind- trackers included. 

Though Cass had seen fit to convince their wayward brother otherwise. 

Lo and behold, Tim had been given access to Jason’s only tracker- code withheld by their silent sister until it was clear that Red Hood was missing. 

The best part? 

It was embedded in his chest, in his very body and despite the interference of something making his vital records a rollercoaster of confusing read outs, it proved that Jason had been very much alive on the day of the last Arkham breakout. 

The same breakout that Joker had been abducted and (supposedly) killed during, his head mounted like a grotesque trophy for the world to witness. 

It wasn’t a coincidence that the vitals went haywire within the same timeframe as the Breakout Alarm, was it? 

Tim triple checked the two times and yep, eerily same, though the biggest concern wasn’t that it was during Joker’s abduction, but the fact that the only vital to be recorded thanks to the strange interference was Jason’s heart rate- it’s max number reaching a distressing 230 bpm, before either the tracker finally gave up the ghost or … Jason did. 

It was the sort of thing Tim could only keep to himself for fear of sending Bruce down the path of madness again. 

It was unfortunate that Bruce seemed to come to the worst conclusion possible without Tim’s input.

The incidental meeting with the Ghost Kid, Phantom as he preferred, had thrown everything Tim believed about Death and Not-Death into a depressing tailspin, especially when he finally worked up the courage to sort through the documents and files on the flash drive. 

(And don’t get him started on which was weirder- a ghost having a flash drive or pulling said thing out of his chest like it was normal to have that ability.)

Bruce had not taken Phantom well. 

Not the ghost nor the information he dropped on Batman like a boulder; be it the fact that it was a dead kid he was speaking to, said kid pleading to not send him to war against the living, or an impending war with the Dead thanks to the Government fucking around and finding out. 

(Bruce had been livid.) 

(There were several people immensely grateful that Batman had a no killing rule.) 

(Otherwise heads would be rolling.) 

In all honesty, Tim wasn’t surprised anymore that the dumbasses messed up. 

What he was surprised about, was the lore of the Infinite Realms at his fingertips. It was fascinating that anyone could call these entities non-sapient when they had so many cultures and traditions, the Realms even had a monarchy! 

A powerful being that held several interesting titles according to Phantom’s files: Great One, Defender of The Light, Vanquisher of the Dark, the Once and Future King of Stars….

(Later, a bewildered Constantine would confirm that ‘yes, those are correct and not even close to all of them, how did you get this? Bloody hell, is this color-coded?’) 

(The files were, in fact, color-coded.)

(Green, Teal, Black and Red)

There were so many powerful entities on file, organized by their known power sets, preferred name, and their ‘danger rating’… and they were kept in the green section. 

(Strangely, a small ghost dog with the preferred name ‘Cujo’ was listed with two danger ratings- one for ‘small’ and one for ‘big’.) 

Phantom himself was listed with a mind-boggling power set that included almost the entirety of the Justice League’s own. The only note where it concerned his rating was ‘Spirit of Protection’, which Tim suspected meant that Phantom wasn’t a fighter unless he had to be one, but the power set given made him concerned about what exactly Phantom could be protecting that needed all that. 

The last listed in the high rating category was named only as ‘The Regent’, with the titles of ‘Lady of the Acropolis’ and ‘Death-Claimed Champion’. The picture was of a tall knight in black and teal armor, helmet fully obstructing their face much like the ‘Fright Knight’, bearing a long sword of some intricate design…. And bracelets he’d only seen worn by none other than Wonder Woman. 

Oh yeah, Batman was gonna have a field day.

A/N: Forgot to mention that the song quotes at the beginning are more there for decoration or what songs I was listening to as I wrote. All of them are added to the Jazz/Jason playlist I have.

The idea for the files came from the AO3 fic 'Batman, Meet Team Phantom', this specific chapter. Also, an Anger management ship fic that I've reread several times now. Not a copy, but I really liked the idea.

[froot-batty]

Part 3

Remember how I said Alexis eventually quits being Punchline? This is how it happens!

Her wanting to quit is a buildup of a lot of thoughts and feelings over a long amount of time. She's treated terribly by the Joker and Harley Quinn, has been thrown in Arkham countless times, and the only people who are nice to her are either still more loyal to her mother or is the person throwing her in Arkham

One night, when Joker, Harley, and Punch were all rigging a toy factory with explosives, J&H made the decision to set off the bombs early without informing Punchline. As such, they were far closer to the exit than she was when they went off. Alex was hit by a stray fragment of a wooden beam during the blast, and by the time she was able to force herself to her feet, the fire caused by the explosion was raging around her

The only thing she could see through the flames was the dark shape of the Batman

But, instead of whisking her off to Arkham like she'd expected, he offered to take her somewhere safe and secure where she could recover. Where she could think of her path forward. After being left to die, it wasn't fair for her to be left to rot in Arkham again

So Batman took her to the Batcave. He has a secure medical bay with no access to the rest of the cave (unless you know the way in), so she could be left there to hide out while she grappled with her Punchline identity (and with the hole in her stomach)

Because Alexis didn't want to be Punchline anymore. In fact, she hated her mother and Harley Quinn, and wanted nothing in the world more than to kill them like they'd tried to do to her. But she had no idea who she was if she wasn't in her mother's shadow, doing what the Joker wanted when she wanted it. She had no idea what to do with all of her anger

Bruce, luckily, is very well-versed into dealing with that. And since Alexis already had the experience of being a supervillain, he had little qualms with redirecting her anger and desire for justice into vigilantism. If it kept her from going out and killing people, and helped him out in the process, then no harm done, right?

...Except it didn't work out. Though they had no problem training and even getting closer with one another (enough so that Batman would eventually reveal his identity), Alexis had enough of living in someone else's shadow; being what they wanted her to be. And she didn't want to be a hero. She had her own idea of dealing with crime - or even people that just needed to die

Alexis would eventually settle into a life of doing jobs for money, cause a girl's still got to be paid. She tends to only take ones that directly harm established criminals or terrible people in general (abusers, CEOs, and the like), but on occasion, when it suits her, she'll help Bruce out or go and capture one of the Rogues herself

And she does it all smugly calling herself the Red Hood, her mother's old moniker, from the beginning of her criminal career

[plzu]

crushed croissant - (Adrian Chase x Reader)

part seven← ☕️ series masterlist ☕️ ao3

a/n: getting to explore the difference in headspace of both adrian and reader in one chapter is soooo much fun summary: Vigilante is too busy with the Task Force to visit you at work. But when he finally does, he tells you everything he's been up to. You're not sure you like his stories very much. warnings: mentions of canon-accurate violence, the word "rapey" is used once, cheating in a broad/general sense (as in it might not be considered cheating to some, but would be to others), no y/n wordcount: 5.2k

Something in the air at home has definitely shifted. You've been waiting for your mother to snap. To blow up. Surely the fuse of her anger is due to erupt, explode in a fury where she hurls insults at you. It's long overdue, anyway.

But when you see your father sitting in the living room, or at the kitchen table, head hung in despair over a glass of whiskey, you get the sense your mother hasn't been home much.

Your dad has barely spared you a second glance since the day he yelled at you. Like all the fight has left his body, like he can't bring himself to care after your mother's own blasé comments that morning.

Maybe this -- plus your mother's seemingly sudden absence from home -- should be concerning. But there's this tentative fluttering hope in your chest over the tiniest taste of this newfound freedom that you haven't had since moving back to Evergreen. Like you can finally roam around your parent's house without trying to avoid them.

You still err on the side of caution, of course. But still. Being able to venture into the kitchen for a cup of coffee in the mornings without the heart rate of someone being hunted for sport has been a nice, welcome change of pace.

Maybe actual licensed therapists would disagree, but Adrian found blowing shit up in the woods with his BFF pretty therapeutic. Especially after said BFF has been in prison for several years with zero means of communication from the outside world.

Something about the morass underfoot, wet dead leaves sticking to the soles of his boots. That same soft earth cushioning his fall as he flung himself away from exploding dynamites (chucked by Peacemaker, aimed directly at him! Classic). Shooting various holes into appliances and shattering the glass of old blenders and coffee carafes, a riot and a comfort, the raucous laughter of two grown men being drowned out by explosions and swallowed up by the canopy of the tall trees.

It gave Adrian an adrenaline rush, the kind he can only feel as Vigilante. It reassured him that his place in Peacemaker's life was not being threatened. There's still space for him, this easy camaraderie. They still make a badass team.  

A badass team that still brings chicks back to Chris’ trailer that they can share, apparently. 

Adrian has never taken issue with bedding babes with Chris. 

He's always careful to keep the Vigilante mask on, makes sure everyone involved knows not to even think about trying to touch his face. Getting his dick touched now and then offered a sweet relief, even if the main reason he was even hard to begin with was because Christopher Smith was involved.

Mostly, though, Adrian just appreciated whatever bonding time he could get in with Peacemaker. It was one of those things that, in the beginning, was something he agreed to in order to grow closer with the man he’s looked up to since he was a kid, and show him that  Vigilante is a real bro’s bro deserving of his respect. Earn his spot as the cool, kickass partner Peacemaker deserved. Well, besides Eagly, of course.  

(And getting to show off how far he's come since his 'Thimble' days, even if Chris doesn't know it's Adrian under the mask, was a nice bonus, too.)

And so while Vigilante should have no qualms with sharing some brunette that Chris invited back to his trailer (which, like, totally understandable after being locked up for so long), it is Adrian that hesitates.

“I don't know if I can do this, man.”

Chris snorts as the uncertainty in his voice. “What, did you get a girlfriend or something while I was gone?” He smirks as if such a suggestion could only be a joke. 

Vigilante looks at him. Hasn’t Chris read his texts since being back? Or listened during their special bonding time blowing shit up in the woods? “Dude, I told you! There’s the barista I've been seeing.”

“What? So? Did you guys have the talk?”

“Dude,” he giggles. “We both know where babies come from.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Not that talk, dipshit. Did you two establish a relationship? A monogamous one?”

Adrian thinks about the quiet way you called him your best friend. He also thinks about the way you've only ever touched each other with clothes on.

The way none of this establishes any sort of relationship beyond friends with benefits. Even if those benefits just leave him stiff in his jeans.

“I... guess not,” he answers Chris, a little unsure.

“Then you can still bone whoever you want, dude,” says Chris, the near-constant impatience clear in his tone. 

“I'm not gonna force you, obviously, because that would be fucked up and rapey,” he continues, straight-faced, throwing his hands up defensively. “But there is a hot, underappreciated woman waiting for us to show her the best railing she's probably had in months. Honestly, maybe even years. That Evan guy doesn’t seem to realize how good he has it. So I'm heading inside to deliver multiple, mind-blowing orgasms, and you're free to join. Or not!”

Chris disappears inside his trailer, and Adrian is left outside with Eagly, who just stares up at him with its round, yellow eyes.

“What do you think I should do, Eagly?”

The large bird says nothing. Just cocks its white feathered head before tottering off the porch and flying away.

Adrian sighs. 

There was this slightly turbulent, uncomfortable feeling at the idea that sleeping with someone would somehow be a betrayal to you. But Chris' words eases some of that worry, once again enlightening Adrian in only the way Christopher Smith can. You and Adrian have not  established any sort of relationship beyond the PG-13 makeout sessions and hanging out at bars and fast food joints. And Adrian is no stranger to hooking up with people in a no-strings attached kind of way. Moreso as Vigilante with Peacemaker, sure, but Adrian has had his fair share of one-night stands purely for the occasional sexual relief.

As special as spending time with you is, way more special than any past random hook-ups Adrian’s had, he has to remember that you two are just friends.

And so, with a clear conscience, he steps into Chris’ trailer.

Going days without seeing Adrian's bare, open face is making you feel... withdrawal symptoms. Dramatic? Maybe. But the firecracker pops of color he usually brings with him has been scant, making the dreary monochrome of Evergreen bleed back into the cafe. It turns you slump-shouldered and sullen.

“Hey.”

Emerging from the bitter clouds of your thoughts and into the mundane early evening of the cafe, you blink back to reality and watch Ashe's concerned face come into focus.

“Is everything okay?” Their tone carries the worried weight of someone approaching a wild, wounded animal.

Are you wounded?

Well.

It feels like there hasn’t been anytime for you anymore, now that this Peacemaker guy is back. And it hurts, admittedly. Which is stupid, and you feel bad about it because of course Adrian is going to want to catch up with an old friend that he hasn’t seen in years. So the pain of your guilt over your selfish feelings hurts, too. 

But you haven't had the chance to feel the warmth of his touch since the night that changed everything, and it’s startling to realize how much you’ve come to rely on it for your sanity. The longer you go without the feel of his heat pressed against you, the colder the days seem to leave you.

Realizing you haven't responded to Ashe yet, you force out a non-commital grunt and continue stocking and reorganizing the pastries for tomorrow.

This, for whatever reason, does not convince Ashe that everything is, in fact, okay. Their voice lowers into that of delicate understanding.

“Did you and Adrian... break up?” They grimace, seemingly afraid of the answer. “He hasn't stopped by lately.”

True. Adrian hasn’t been by to visit during the day. No more quick hellos before his shift at Fennel Fields starts. Just late night visits from Vigilante instead, before he runs off to his other best friend.

Your head snaps to face Ashe again. “We're not-” you start, but then clamp your jaw shut. An insecure clack of your teeth. You look away, avoiding their gaze. “It’s not like that with Adrian.”

“Sure,” they say, but in a tone that very clearly implies they're just entertaining you.

“Why do you even ask?” There’s more bite to the question than you intended, but Adrian as a topic right now is extracting some venom you didn't think Ashe would ever be on the receiving end of.

But Ashe doesn't seem perturbed in the slightest. Probably because they were the most patient and understanding person you've ever met, something you constantly marvel at considering their young age.

“Well,” they delicately--but persistently--tug at the corner of the packaged pastry currently suffocating in your fist. Your fingers unfurl to reveal crinkled plastic encasing a crushed croissant. “It just seems like you're back to the way you were before Adrian started coming around.”

You frown as Ashe tears open the plastic. The baked, buttery scent of bread infiltrates your nostrils. “How was I?” you mumble, voice notably softer. “Before Adrian, I mean.”

“Mm,” Ashe tears off a piece of the flaky croissant and pops it into their mouth. “Miserable. Grumpy.”

“You’re not supposed to eat that.”

“Not like we can sell it to a customer after your death grip.” They pull another piece into their mouth. Their dark eyes shine with kindness and curiosity, unphased by your halfhearted attempt at playing the stern manager.

Ashe is right, though. You were miserable and grumpy. Honestly, it's hard to remember anything about who you were as a person before Adrian reappeared in your life. When you try to seriously think back, it's nothing but bleak, mundane memories.

Truthfully, you had just been a shell of a person.

The excitement of successfully landing a manager position at the cafe had worn off fairly quickly once the stress of customers wore you down. Sure, it wasn't as bad here as it was when you'd worked at a drive-thru Starbucks location back in college. But the cafe was still fairly new enough to garner the attention of coffee aficionados and people that were just bored with all the things in town that they already knew about.

And there was nothing to alleviate the stress of customer service, not when the home you'd go back to every night was another huge source of anxiety.

You tried to numb yourself to it all, you realize. A defense mechanism. It can't hurt if you didn't let it, so you hollowed yourself out.

But then Adrian recognized you. He could have just come in that one day, gotten that large iced Americano and left forever (no way he would have come back to the less-than-stellar customer service you were doling out). But he said your name and remembered who you were and as terrifying as that should have been, you entertained his recognition.

Because it was him. Adrian Chase. No one of consequence, at the time. Who could the weirdo from high school possibly blab to about your being back in town? And, also, he was kind of silly in a weird, delightful way that you couldn’t help but want to play around with.

Besides, there was a certain way he looked at you that was intriguing, and would very quickly become chest-achingly addicting.

After handling a few customers, Ashe pipes up again. “Y'know, if Matty hears you aren't together, he's gonna try shooting his shot with Adrian.”

This only makes you snort. “Please. Matty wouldn't stand a chance.”

You catch the raised eyebrows on Ashe's face and immediately clarify, “he wouldn't stand a chance against Adrian's best friend that's back in town.”

Ashe pauses before their expression alights in understanding. “So that's why you've been so moody.”

“What?”

“You're jealous!”

“What? No. Me? Jealous of who?”

“The best friend you just mentioned,” they laugh. “C'mon, admit it.”

Admit to being jealous of the guy Adrian all but gushed to you about? Enthusiasm punctuating each giddy sentence. The way he practically bounced on the balls of his feet the other night, excited to meet up with him.

Pfft. Naw.

“You're worried he's replacing you.”

Oh. Right. Maybe you are jealous.

Because Ashe's words made you realize that Peacemaker isn't replacing you. You were the one replacing Peacemaker. You've just been a stand-in this entire time, keeping Adrian distracted and entertained while his buddy was locked up or whatever. You see that now.

That hollow feeling returns in the pit of your gut.

Adrian gets half his fucking pinky toe sawed off and his testicles electrocuted in one spectacularly fucked up night. And as if that wasn't bad enough, his secret identity gets revealed to both Peacemaker, and the ENEMY. Which turns out to be some kind of weird, fucked up space pigeon? Whatever.

At this point, he's pissed off at Chris for allowing him to get tortured in the first place. He could have at least tried to stall Adrian getting his balls burnt to a crisp by giving just a little info, maybe? Just a tidbit of information to potentially delay Adrian getting his most important toe being severed, probably?

Whatever valuable lesson was meant to be taught by this doesn't really go appreciated, not when the pain is still fresh in his junk and right foot. Not when his ego is bruised both from getting his butt fully kicked by the tiny green karate man, AND his identity revealed.

TWICE.

In a single month.

He's irritated. Cranky. No one is taking his concerns over his pinky toe seriously, which is frustrating.

To distract himself from the pain and anger, he thinks about you.

It's not even really intentional. Your smile just kind of emerges amidst the muddled annoyance of his thoughts, and it suddenly dulls all the aches. He remembers the sound of your laughter and something warm glows in his chest.

Adrian would very much like to see you. It's been days since the both of you have properly talked, let alone spend real solid time with each other.

But he cannot. He has a duty to Peacemaker that he has to prioritize, and it seems like this new team Chris is with needs him. And, well, it feels nice to be needed.

He cannot see you. So he spends half the car ride to Chris’ dad’s house telling him everything about you instead.

He can almost forget that half his pinky toe is falling off.

Adrian hasn’t responded to any of your texts. You just want to talk to someone about how weird it’s been at home. Well, not someone. Adrian. Just Adrian.

You hope he’s safe.

He could at least call you.

Why hasn’t he called you?

Adrian sits in a prison cell accompanied by nothing but the ugly feeling of shame. He thinks he may have messed up. Potentially made things worse for Chris by failing in killing his terrible, racist father.

And to top it all off, he's agitated his injured foot doing a (pretty sick) spin kick. Instinct had beat self-preservation in that moment.

Once again, the only thing that eases some of the pain are thoughts of you. Out of habit, he glances to the right, looking for the plastic cup filled on his nightstand with all the physical proof that he'd spent time with you. But all that's there are the bleak and dirty yellow walls of his cell.

The frown that's been sitting on his face since being brought back to his cell deepens.

Whatever, it's fine. He doesn't need it to remember what your kisses feel like. The warm press of your mouth against his is definitely embedded into the grooves and ridges of his brain. The taste of you -- bitter coffee, sweetened at the edges. The little sounds you make when he squeezes your waist, or buries his face into the warm space of your neck.

Time in the cell passes by quickly after that. He's rocking a semi by the time they let him out.

You stop by Fennel Fields one day during your lunch break, hoping to surprise Adrian. But he isn’t there. You ask the young hostess at the front if he’s working at all today. She just kind of shrugs impassively, boredly twirling a strand of hair on her finger as she tells you that he was a ‘no call, no show,’ which means he was definitely supposed to work tonight.

Her indifference pisses you off. Doesn’t she know that Adrian could be dead in a ditch somewhere? Doesn’t she care? 

You leave before you can blow up at this Chloe chick (per the name on her apron). Adrian is, of course, just some guy to her. Only you have the pleasure (and the burden) of knowing that he’s so much more. 

Vigilante gets bodily thrown around by a gorilla. And while it's cool that he gets to add 'fought a gorilla and lived' to his list of badassery, it would have been even cooler if he was the one that got to land the finishing blow with a chainsaw.

The chainsaw was his idea, too! So it just kind of feels like Economos stole his thunder, which wasn't very fair.

Venting to Chris doesn't provide as much comfort as he'd like. And while this new team seemed cool, there's no way any of them were capable of making him feel better. Not the way you can.

Thinking about you wasn't going to cut it after this one. Texting wasn't an  option if it meant he couldn't hear your voice, and a phone call wouldn't give him the satisfaction of your smile. So Adrian will go and physically see you.

The burst of excitement in his rib cage is nearly suffocating. But, like, in a good way.

Really good.

Your thumbnail endures the worried gnawing of your teeth as you stare at Adrian’s contact information in your phone, wondering if you should call him. You want to see him. You had made the very resolute decision to keep him around, and now you’re realizing you may have to work a little harder in order to do so. 

You’re alone in the cafe, after hours. Ashe has been spending the rest of their shifts trying to cheer you up, but to no avail. They felt a little guilty, thinking that they had some part in bringing you down after they made the whole ‘jealousy’ comment. There was an extra layer of glumness in your distant expression for the rest of that night and several nights to come that they felt responsible for. So they would insist on staying even after the shop closed, stick around as you finish up your managerial duties.

As nice as the company would have been, Ashe's presence would potentially stop Adrian-slash-Vigilante from popping in, so you did your best every night to reassure the barista that you're fine. It was only the slightly desperate tone in your voice that would convince them to leave each time. 

So, like every other night, Ashe leaves. You lock the doors. You mechanically carry out your closing tasks until all that is left to do is turn off the lights and go. But Adrian, like every other night, still hasn’t shown. 

Before the Vigilante reveal, you two would just text each other when you were planning on stopping by the other's place of work. But now, not only has he been unable to confirm whether or not he’ll be able to stop by, knowing that he spends his nights doing dangerous things makes you think twice about contacting him. What if he’s trying to be stealthy and you call him out of the blue, the ringtone alerting armed gunmen to his presence? And then he gets hurt, or caught, or worse, because of you?

“Ugh, this is ridiculous!” you bemoan into the empty cafe. “How much crime could there even be in Evergreen-”

You cut yourself off, remembering the night after the club and shudder, the hands that make your skin crawl when you think about them, the ugly scab on your knee. 

A sudden, very specific knock from the front of the store has you yelping, phone flying out of your hand. It clatters somewhere behind you, but you’re not paying any attention to that when Vigilante is standing outside. 

Before you know it, you're unlocking the door to the cafe. Vigilante walks in, careful to close and lock the glass door behind him, muttering something about the cold and you getting sick. You don't really pay the comments much mind —  once he turns back around, you use both hands to tug him towards you by the straps (harness?) on his chest.

The action nearly unsteadies you both, him lurching from the unexpected suddenness of the movement, a soft 'whoa-'as his gloved hands instinctively land on your waist to brace himself.

“What was that for?”

The slight whine in his voice makes you grin. It's comforting. It's Adrian. Feeling him pressed up against you subdues some of the worry of losing him, of not seeing him the past several days, even with the hard discomfort of his chest piece against your breast. Even though it's rough, even though it smells like gunmetal and recklessness, the closeness is a momentary salve for your insecurities.

Instead of telling him this, or even something as simple and true as 'I miss you,' you search his eyes behind the red visor (incredibly glad you can see them at all). “Can you see me okay?”

“Huh? Of course I can.”

“But you're not wearing your glasses.”

“Oh! The visor is prescription.” You can tell that he's smiling, can hear the pride in his voice.

“Really? That's pretty cool.”

“Right? I think so, too.” His eyes squint, smile growing wider, and it makes a flurry of butterflies erupt in your gut.

“I want to kiss you,” you murmur, and you’re impressed that you manage to keep the desperation from your voice despite the way your heart hammers in your chest. You don’t want Adrian to know how bad you want him, you don’t want to scare him away. 

He stiffens at your admission, however, and starts stammering. “I- we can’t- cameras, remember? My mask-”

“No cameras in the restroom.” You nod your head in the general direction of the cafe’s restroom, somewhere behind you and to the left. 

Adrian glances towards where you gesture, not just with his eyes - his whole helmet tilts with the action, and you’re realizing there's something kind of endearing about the mask. It’s not as intimidating as the first time, or your nightmares. It accentuates his movements in a way you’re coming to find kind of… well, cute. 

But he starts to extricate himself from your grasp, shaking his head. “I really- we shouldn’t.”

Before the rejection could register as painful, you press on, body following his as he pulls away from you. “Well, I’m done for the night. Slow day today.” (You say this like you didn’t take your sweet time counting the tills). “We can just go, get in one of our cars-”

Adrian groans. He gathers your wrists in his hands, the texture of his gloves rough and scratchy as he pulls your hands off of his chest. 

“Dude,” you giggle, “am I bothering you, or something?”

“Yes!”

You blink, startled, at his outburst. The way his head swivels back to look you in the face, enunciating his exclamation. The smile slips from your face as the rejection finally sets in, and you yank your hands away from Adrian like his touch suddenly scalds.

This is it. He's finally sick of you. Or bored of you. The way you've latched onto him is finally wearing him down, and maybe he had some kind of guy talk with Peacemaker that's making him dump your ass, made him realize how pathetic you actually are-

“Are those tears? Why are you crying!?”

“Because you just called me annoying!” You hadn't even realized that tears had welled up.

“What!? No, I didn't!”

“Yes you did! You said I'm bothering you! That means I'm annoying!” You angrily wipe at your eyes. Your hurt morphed into anger due to embarrassment over your own stupid tears.

You're sick of crying in front of Adrian, he shouldn't get to see how weak and broken you really are.

“You're not annoying!” Adrian says, body taking on an exasperated, pleading stance as his arms stretch slightly out to his sides, palms facing out, as if to make up for the fact that you can't see his face. “I just meant that in the moment, you were a little overwhelming.”

You pout. It doesn't exactly make you feel any better.

“I don't know why,” he continues, “but you're really hard to say no to. And I just, I don't know, was looking forward to talking with you tonight. And if you kiss me, I’ll kiss you back and won’t have time to catch you up on everything.”

Your eyes widen and your heart skips a few funny beats. You're hard to say no to? Oh, that flusters you, makes you feel more special than you deserve and you smile, slow and shy and delicate as your cheeks warm, and Adrian's shoulders noticeably relax at the change in expression.

“Why can't we do both?” you ask, coyness laced in your voice.

“I don't think you realize how big of a distraction you are.”

This makes you full on grin. “Is that why you've been avoiding me?”

“Avoiding you?” he repeats, like it hasn't even crossed his mind. “I haven't been avoiding you, I've just been really busy with this new team-”

“New team?” you interrupt, eyebrows furrowing. He only ever mentioned Peacemaker.

“Yeah! See, Peacemaker didn't actually complete his full prison sentence- oh, yeah,” he chuckles, “by the way, I was actually locked up the other day, too. But not because I got caught! It was a deliberate choice. Anyway-”

Your mouth hangs open as Adrian continues to regale you of how his past week has been, and the group of people he's been helping out that call themselves 'Task Force X' or something. You barely notice the way he gently ushers you to a nearby table, carefully pulling out a chair for you to sit as he recounts the details of each mission (and a side quest? If you can call getting yourself purposefully arrested a side quest.)

He fought a gorilla. But it wasn't a normal gorilla, it was a super gorilla. You thought the 'super' part was a bit excessive. A regular gorilla could have easily wrecked everyone's shit, given that this group is all human.

(“Everyone on this team is human, right? No superpowers?”)

(“I think so, yeah.”)

He whines to you a bit about how some guy named Economos took down the gorilla with a chainsaw.

(“It was cool, but it just would have been cooler had I been the one to do it.”)

(You nod, very serious. “Oh, for sure.”)

He tells you about how he tried to kill Auggie Smith, the racist, retired villain that just so happens to be Peacemaker's father. This information gives you whiplash, but Adrian hardly gives you any time to process it as he moves onto the next thing.

The next thing being the torture he went through in a US Senetor's secret dungeon (what the fuck), where he endured getting his junk electrocuted and a pinky toe severed almost entirely off by said senator.

The senator also happened to be an alien? And he's dead now?

The senator. Not the alien. Peacemaker kept the alien (but don't tell anyone).

By the time he's done, you understand why there was no time for making out. This was a lot to unpack.

“So... how've you been?”

You stare at him. “What do you mean how have I been? Who even cares? Whatever I've been going through pales in comparison to the shit you've been through.”

Adrian tries to interrupt, but you don't let him. “No! Nuh-uh, my life is peachy. I still have all my toes. I haven't had any part of my body electrocuted. I didn't tussle with a fucking. Gorilla.”

There's a second where you just stare at each other before Adrian breaks eye contact first, helmeted head falling forward. “Yeah, true.”

“Adr- Vigilante,” you catch yourself. “Are you sure you should be doing this? It kind of sounds like Peacemaker came with baggage.” You think about your own baggage, grimace, then correct yourself. “Dangerous baggage, I mean. I don't like that you're getting hurt because of him.”

Adrian's head whips up at your words, eyes wide. “No no no, it's fine, it's cool! They need me!”

He says this all too chipper.

“Besides, it's not all bad! There's fun stuff, too! We blew some stuff up in the woods-”

You roll your eyes. “That's still dangerous.”

“And there was the threesome-”

Threesome? He's still talking, probably, you can't really tell. It just gets muted out by the wretched feeling that's suddenly tearing apart your heart and making it difficult to breathe.

“Wh- what threesome..?” The question rattles out of you, shaken and quiet.

“Huh?”

You look at him, unblinking, and ask again. “What threesome? When did- when did you have...?”

“Oh, with Chris and this 'underappreciated' chick he brought back to his trailer. It was just like old times,“ he cheerily proceeds, completely unaware of the mood shift.

How could you have been so stupid? Of course no grown man with an active libido was going to remain perfectly content with just making out in his car. Adrian probably got sick of you stringing him along (which, you weren't, not really but where else were you gonna have sex? Your parent's house was out of the question, and he wouldn't offer his place.)

Wait, why didn't he bring you back to his place? He lied about having a roommate, you know this now though he still hasn't admitted it.

You abruptly stand up. The chair scrapes harshly against the tiles before keeling over.

Adrian flinches at the sound, and immediately stands up with you. “Whoa, hey, are you-”

“Get out.”

“Are you mad? Is it- is it the threesome? Because we aren't even together, technically, so you shouldn't-”

This fractures your heart even further.

“I said get out,” you sob, no longer able to look at him.

“W-wait,” he falters, very visibly out of his element. “You aren't supposed to be mad. Chris said-”

“Please,” you whisper, and it is such a small, pathetic sound, full of hurt despite its quietness. You hide your face behind shaky hands, feeling untethered and lost and indescribable pain.

A long moment of silence expands the distance between you both, until, finally (because you are very hard to say no to) you hear Adrian's footsteps walk away, and out the front door of the cafe.

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[felidacy]

Rogue system knowledge & Tim and Jason

@head-in-the-clouds27 regarding your question about if Talia will know about the Rogue system for Tim and if this change in Tim would also make the dynamic with Jason different got me thinking. So here is what I thought about. 

Rogue System & The League 

Tim is a natural snoop that makes unreasonable amounts of contingency plans as he goes, which is why he weasels himself into Barbara Gordon’s heart through lighthearted trash talk about Bruce & Dick and thirst for knowledge in order to learn more about computer science from day one. (Tim is not arrogant enough to think he could achieve the same level of greatness through the lack of a teacher.) As such, Tim learns about the League when he wasn’t supposed to know (really dumb of Bruce when Tim could be at risk, did he learn nothing?) when he snoops through the Batcomputer and decides then and there that attracting the interest from them is far too dangerous. 

Paired with the newly attained hacker knowledge and having no qualms about using questionable methods like gaslighting and blackmail, Tim uses that to control a large part of the Rogues underground. Unintentionally he becomes one of the big bosses in the crime family as he forces them to alter pieces of information, use codes that only they understand, and build up a cover-up to make it seem like they use it for every vigilante and not only for a tiny Robin. (Whoever doesn’t do as he is told is either being put into a trap with Batman arriving or Tim makes it through cleverly planned incidents and more gaslighting that the Rogues end up fighting each other. You would assume that they understood that quickly, but people are sometimes stupid and like underestimating Tim, and as such, some more drastic measures needed to be taken. In the end, though, they learned to listen after all.) 

It is that altered information that the League is only aware of because when they infiltrate some of the crime families to learn about the system, the plan never goes according to plan. Despite Talia’s strong suspicion of that bird, Ra’s has enough of losing good assassins for some measly system along with the unwanted attention of the Detective again that he orders them back. Talia is supposed to concentrate on their newest project that she put at risk because of Batman being too close for their liking now. (Talia does as she is told despite her dislike as she forms her new, little soldier through manipulation and honey-covered lies she whispers into his ears. With hundreds of years of knowledge, she knows just how to use pawns when it involves the pit.)

Jason and Tim’s first meeting

Like in canon because of the Red Hood’s appearance in Gotham, Tim is forced to leave for Florida and prohibited from leaving the Tower for an unknown amount of time. Tim does not mind that he is essentially skipping school for that time, however, he does mind that he was totally caught off-guard by the Waynes and as he was rushed through the Zeta tube he was unprepared. With the Waynes being unaware of his nature (granted that is on him 100% and isn’t it what he wanted) there is not enough time to take a lot with himself, which includes the much-needed packages of blood he regularly consumes to stay sane and, you know, alive. 

It isn’t much of a rebellion when he tries to escape out of the tower and much more of a healthy desire to live. Tim might not seem like it with his unhealthy tendencies, but he does have a stronger will to survive than a wet paperback. But as predicted with someone like Batman, the safety measures prove themselves to be fruitful and even Barbara does not want to help him out, instead reinforcing the system. It is completely unreasonable and overkill in Tim’s eyes when heroes from the Justice League show up when he does end up getting out by a sheer miracle. Finally meeting the Green Lantern he loved ever since he was small (Tim is in denial that he still is) isn’t worth it though with the follow-up lectures, but the worst ones are when Superman - who is practically like an uncle to the Waynes - shows up and gives him that disappointed puppy look. Even when the man isn’t his uncle because Tim is not a Wayne by any means, it has a deadly effect on him. And then come the messages from Dick that make Tim feel so guilty that he lets go of his stubbornness for once and plays obedient soldier. 

(Tim watched with rising panic as he depletes the little amount of blood resources that he had and a familiar feeling of hunger settles in him. Being alone and hungry was a familiar friend, if you could call it that, for Tim. But Tim had gotten so used to a different reality -although it was still slow going as both Bruce and Tim himself were hesitant- that it was now something that he dreaded.)

With very poor timing it is when Tim is at his worst that the Red Hood breaks into the Tower and comes across Tim. Not Robin, but Tim the monster. A boy that he heard a lot about through Talia and yet that boy before him then wasn’t quite as helpless and weak as he has been told. He had a familiar edge in his smile, in the way that his eyes seemed to stare straight into his soul and how he didn’t hesitate to grasp a knife as a weapon. (Robin was supposed to be the comfort, the sneaky surprise that struck when you least expect it. Not deadly dangerous. That wasn’t Jason or Tim, they were familiar with the darkness and didn’t hesitate to use it. They were a different kind.) None of that mattered to the Red Hood in that moment however. The pit hummed in satisfaction to have an evenly matched target that could keep up with its strength, though technique wise they were far different. The pit drowned out how similiar the two were, the pit only made the Red Hood see green and so incredibly angry. 

The Red Hood wasn’t the only one who was filled with an unexplainable surge of power, however. Tim fought viciously against the larger man who could count himself lucky with the helmet, because otherwise, Tim would have already ripped his throat open. He made do with the knife in his hand instead of his Bo-staff and he managed to hurt the Red Hood more than once, although none of the wounds are fatal enough to halter the man in his steps. Angry at that, the Red Hood managed to push Tim down the stairs where he crumbled into a mess along with his weapon when bones snapped. Groaning and cursing Tim was ready to get up again when he was shoved back down and the Red Hood took off the helmet. 

Jason Todd, his hero, his dead Robin stood before Tim. Not so dead after all. 

The reveal was a greater shock than when Jason leaned closer and spat a choice of words at the replacement. The pretender. The cuckoo that snuck into a nest he wasn’t supposed to have when he had his own family. Nevermind that it was a poor excuse of one. But Jason didn’t know anything about the truth. How could he? He didn’t know that he lost his mother long before she died of person. Didn’t know that the comatose state of his father was a mercy in disguise. Didn’t know that the Waynes didn’t even truly want him. Jason was angry at Tim and regardless of the explanations that he tried, the older didn’t want to listen to him any longer. 

As such, the slitting of his throat came quick like the strike of a viper. Jason didn’t care as Tim bleed out then and there. He left his message for the Bats and left without even sparing Tim another glance. That hurt more than it should have and it took Tim longer than he wanted to call back the logical part of his brain. Like, how he was in danger of dying. He activated his emergency beacon and hoped that Bruce and Dick would soon come, but Tim knew that his survival rate wasn’t great. (Vampires weren’t immortal despite popular belief in pop media. He had seen it with his mother after all. Vampires turned grey in a way no human could and not long after they would turn to ash. There was a reason that the Drakes were apparently always burned and not put in coffins.) Tim did not wish to die, so he did the only logical conclusion. Crawling to the knife that was kicked aside by Jason, he took the weapon in his slippery hands and prayed that all the blood on it was more from Jason than his own. His own would have proven to be useless. With probably not much time left, Tim licked the blood off from the knife even when it made his poor throat scream in more pain.

However, that was nothing compared to the following. Tim had never tasted such awful blood like then. It was rotten and slid down his throat like sludge, he needed to fight against the urge to throw it back up again. Forcefully he kept his mouth shut even when the heat set in. The usual healing effect of blood was cool and numbing to his body, but this blood scorched from his insides and decidedly did not start healing the wound. Being a naturally cold creature, the heat was nearly unbearable to endure. At first, Tim thought he misjudged and that he would die that die, but then he did realize that there was somewhat of an effect. While it didn’t heal the wound, it stopped the blood flow enough that he could outlive the attack. 

Later on Bruce, Alfred and Dick would wonder how Tim survived. They were thankful beyond belief, but there had been so much blood and Tim lied so cold and still that Dick fully expected to have lost another younger brother when he didn’t have the chance to protect him, again. Tim did not want to talk about that day, barely even spoke which was at first explained by the injury but later on put on as trauma. Tim would end up disclosing who the Red Hood was, but beyond that there was not a thing he explained. 

Dick caught Tim more than once staring into the mirror and looking at the scar, the first scar that was ever left on his body. Dick would try his best to cheer him up and explain that it didn’t make him ugly or anything, but Dick had no clue to the extent of how much it truly unsettled Tim. For the first time, the powers of his have failed. Tim wasn’t scared of the attack itself or what Jason had done, Tim was scared that it could happen again now. 

[gaphic]

while vigilante justice is not how any society should function, it’s pretty clear all other avenues of justice have failed us

and going into another trump term, I think the benefits of sending a strong message to the capital class outweigh the moral qualms of this particular execution

[ybyag-lil]

I just... LOVE Sunshrine as a ship and have my delusions and HC's about it and I needed to put these thoughts out on WHY I like them so much somewhere other than in my fics or else I'm literally going to explode, so—

Annoyed x Annoyance. Need I say more?

I will.

If we're talking purely potential ship dynamics, we have:

Flirty x oblivious, Denial/Dense, Sunshine x Sunshine protector, stoic vs pain in the ass, optimist vs pessimist, "why me?" "why not you?", Insecure vs showers them in love.

Sun and Moon/Day and Night yadda yadda y'know the drill

Complementary colors (orange/blue) that you can correlate with their difference in personality.

But I hate reducing them to basic opposites attract and other dynamics bec they're NOT completely opposite - they actually have a lot in common!

"Two sides of the same coin" is how I'd actually describe them.

They're both trying to find their own way in life, and the paths they're taking are so fundamentally different than what has come before them.

Their voice-lines about it. Love to read into those

("I'll walk a different path this time." "I'll find my own path." "The path shapes you." "That's the path you've found?")

Potential for shared isolation issues and fear of abandonment!!!!

I feel like Kiriko's life suddenly shifting one day when Sojiro was killed and her proceeding to lose a bunch of people she held near and dear (not even counting Kanezaka itself facing major power and societal shifts) is not talked about enough. The only real personal connections she knows she has left are:

Her mom, who is forced into inaction and can't move to help liberate Kanezaka or save-

Her dad, who is currently Hashimoto's leverage/hostage and she doesn't even know for sure is still alive rn bc she hasn't seen him.

and Hanzo, which, there's a load of angst there HC and actually in-game wise for her connection with both him and Genji that would be a while 'nother conversation. I don't know if Kiriko even knows Genji's still alive, actually? More issues!

Illari's pretty self explanatory with that isolation/abandonment point. That girl's riding the, "I don't need anyone else (because I'll only end up hurting them)" train so hard. So much so that she doesn't even really feel comfortable showing any positive emotions to people around her (cheer/hello/chuckle animations anyone?).

Kiriko/Illari are both "chosen".

That one's kinda out there tbh, but my logic behind it is that Illari is already notably special. She's prodigy that was quickly predicted to be the GREATEST fucking Inti warrior of her time, whose power was so great that she turned every single other Inti warrior to ashes unintentionally.

(which, by the way, is insane if we assume the augmentations have to give you some sort of resistance to solar power to be able to wield it in the first place?)

Kiriko is where I start playing fast and loose. I'd argue her having the power of the Kitsune (which is not fucking science idc what lore comes in the future, magic exists in this fucking universe!) to such an extent makes her chosen in her own way. Like I'm assuming the teleporting around, the self healing like, and everything else is not a standard affair but no-one talks about the Shimada FAMILY being able to summon dragons so. Maybe that's just the standard in Japan.

On that note — they also both have a responsibility to their people which sort of parallel each other.

Kiriko has happily taken up the mantle of a vigilante to protect the people of Kanezaka, and, as far as we know, she has no qualms about doing it. Her way of doing things is different to how her family served/protected for generations in the past, but she still upholds the duty like it's second nature.

Pure conjecture, but I don't think Kiriko's ever felt forced to do it either. There was never a, "you must protect the town!" talk or anything like that from her grandmother/mom, she's doing it because it feels right to do.

Illari, conversely was always told she had a responsibility to her people. If you read between the lines of her lore blurb on her OW2 page and listen to what she says in her origin video, you get the sense that it was a sort of... burden? Heavy is the head that wears the crown and all that.

I compare it to the "gifted-kid burnout" precisely because of this. Illari has always been molded to follow one path, a rigorous one she didn't really have a choice BUT to follow. You're told at a young age that you are special, that there's no-one else like you, that you will grow to become a legend. How could you even begin to refuse that?

You don't. And when it all starts to fall apart, you start to wonder what's wrong with yourself. Illari has lived a life dedicated to serving, and now there's no-one left but her.

She def has some self worth/esteem issues stemming from having to be this prodigal kid essentially groomed (not that way) her whole childhood to be strong and nothing else. Couple that with an overwhelming feeling of regret for failing to uphold her duty as a protector and you have someone who is just completely lost - direction AND sense of self wise.

And I think Kiriko could help with that. Say what you want about her, but you can't deny that Kiri is strong. Imagine Illari meeting her and realizing that for herself. That despite how careless and foolish Illari thinks Kiriko is, she somehow still manages to protect her people as her duty.

Imagine her realizing that she's been taught a lie her whole life, that she doesn't have to just be Illari, the strongest Inti warrior, she can also just be Illari - the scared 18yr old trying to find a new purpose in life after that choice was stolen from her.

Like Zen says to her, "true strength comes to those who accept their weaknesses". Illari's gotta learn that she can't just be strong, she has to learn to balance these aspects of herself.

and who has played a balancing act between conflicting ideals before? Who has carved her own path out of what she's known? Kiriko.

Ahem, back to a few more hehe haha shipping things

They're both pretty capable as fighters, and both trained since they were kids. They're both probably very disciplined because of it.

(I was going to say "though Kiriko is reckless despite that" but I refuse to believe Illari isn't equally as reckless.)

They're both very petty, check out those revenge voice lines—

("Forgive and forget? Nah..." and, "Forgiveness? Never heard of it." Are two examples LOL)

They're both smart assess. Kiriko is Kiriko so that one's obvious, and I'm looking at your Hanzo/Soldier/Sombra/Ana start up interactions, AND your sassy ass "I didn't do it for you," ally save voice line, Illari.

THEY'RE LITERALLY SPRING - SUN ILLARI, BREEZE/WHATEVER TF ELSE KIRIKO

And the two most important things....

They're just cute. Like seriously look at these little idiots, I love them both dearly.

And it's kind of a funny ship. I'm a firm believer that you don't need a reason to ship two characters, and Kiriko and Illari liking each other can lead into some hilarious ass dynamics, so why not?

Anyways, finished with my brainrot spew. If you've made it this far, check out my AO3 where I will be brainrotting even further in the future. Might post some dumb shitposts here about these two from time to time.

Illari and Kiriko's voice line pages for the things I quote.

(some of this, particularly parts regarding Kiriko, might be incorrect bec I haven't read a single lore comic and am going of things I can vaguely remember hearing about.)

[kastlequill]

knock, knock

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader word count: 1.4k summary: when an unstoppable force meets a movable object tags: whumptober, first meetings, bank robbery, rescue, hurt/comfort, fluff if you squint, civilian!reader, miguel is a dork, no y/n warnings: none ao3: read here

Work was awful; always was, always would be. But today differed in its awfulness.

Usually, work sucked because of power-tripping bosses, incompetent coworkers, and asshole customers. As a banker, you had grown accustomed to dealing with not-so-nice folks who were eager to withdraw funds or deposit a fat check. Today, however, went to shit for an entirely new set of reasons.

A blaster dug deeper into the small of your back. “Do you know where the vault is or not, lady?”

Robbing a bank. How original.

“Yes, I—” God, what could you even say? It wasn’t as if the nutjob would see reason. “I have the code. If you ease up a bit on the gun, I can open it for you. No one has to get hurt here.”

The few silent moments of deliberation filled you with unease. There was no telling how triggerhappy this guy was, nor how impulsive.

“Don’t even think about playing any games. I’ll vaporize you faster than you can scream for help,” he snarled directly into your ear, the fabric of his ski mask brushing against skin. The press of the blaster disappeared, and you exhaled in relief. “Lead the way.”

And so you did.

You were in no position to play hero, not when he could pull the trigger in a split second, and certainly not when your pay was barely above the minimum wage. Dying for a job that didn’t even care to provide you with a livable salary would fucking suck.

Luckily, you wouldn’t have to.

As you started to direct the intruder to the back of the building, adrenaline mounting and mind racing, a blur of red and blue suddenly cut across the room. With its speed came a gust of wind that ruffled your hair and drew your full attention toward the flurry of motion. At the center of the chaos stood a man who you’d only ever seen on the news, whether as a still photo printed in the papers or as a shaky video on TV filmed by some random passerby.

Spider-Man. Easily beating the absolute shit out of the guy who had threatened you mere moments ago.

While they were both distracted, you tiptoed back to the front counter, crawled into the space between your chair and the desk setup, then pushed the emergency button that dispatched law enforcement. But you knew help wouldn’t arrive for at least another fifteen minutes.

The joys of living in Nueva York.

From where you hid, it was possible to glean a fragmented view of the fight, criminal versus vigilante. The latter threw the former around as if he were merely a ragdoll, and the sheer ease with which the hero did so reminded you of a cat pawing at a helpless mouse, wanting to have a little fun before the ultimate kill. They exchanged words as well as punches, but your hearing didn’t extend so far as to hear the specifics of their no doubt hostile, undiplomatic conversation.

Commotion raged on; pained groans accompanied by the subsequent splintering wood as the robber’s body crashed into another desk, followed by resonant thuds as unnaturally-powerful fists rained down on him. Spider-Man held little back and had no qualms delivering a violent retribution.

Not that you had any, either.

Finally, after what seemed to be an endless brawl—if such a one-sided beating could even qualify as a brawl—there was silence at last. Complete and utter silence. No heavy breathing from exertion, no agonized howls, no groveling for mercy.

Just quiet. The type of quiet that settled over a desolate city post-natural disaster, that permeated the air in a bloodied warzone post-surrender.

Until a throat cleared from somewhere above. “You in there?”

When you glanced up, the face that greeted you wasn’t by definition a face, but rather a mask. Red lines framed where eyes laid hidden, and the expression into which the markings configured told of slight concern. The outline of his hulking figure was illuminated by the flickering of a broken light, occasionally revealing to you a skeletonized spider emblem on his torso.

You found yourself wanting to absorb every little detail, every pattern and design, because you didn’t think it statistically probable that you would see him again. If the universe was feeling benevolent, then these kinds of events would happen only once in a lifetime. Prior to today, you’d not had the pleasure of crossing paths with Death, nor had you the good fortune of being in the vicinity of one of the most wanted men in the city.

A great deal had changed since this morning, however. And, to be quite frank, you were ready for the world to return to normal, eager for tomorrow to begin and end without misery or mayhem—

His knuckles rapped the counter overhead. “Knock, knock.”

What the hell. Was this guy for real? He didn’t give you the impression of being the funny type, but neither did he seem the kind of guy to participate in idle chatter.

“Who’s there?” you replied, curious yet cautious.

“A little old lady.”

“A little old lady who?”

“Bank telling and yodeling? Talk about being talented,” he remarked with a low whistle of admiration.

At the cheesy punchline, you crawled out from your hiding spot, stood, and stretched a bit to assuage the ache that had settled in your muscles as a result of crouching for too long. You dusted off your knees once much of the tension had dissipated then fixed him with an unwavering stare, raising an unimpressed brow.

“I’ve got one more for you.” Spider-Man put his hands on his waist and lifted his chin. While true that his features were obscured, you’d bet his eyes had become narrowed and intent, determined to evoke your laughter. “Knock, knock.”

Fine, I’ll bite. “Who’s there?”

“Police.”

“Police who?”

“Police hurry up, I need to take my lunch break.”

Lunch break.

You hadn’t had the chance to go on yours, too preoccupied trying to survive being held at gunpoint. Mortifyingly, this realization caused a salty wet trail to travel the length of your cheek, then another, and then a choked sob bubbled forth against your will.

The hero cursed something you couldn’t quite catch under his breath and sheepishly rubbed a hand down his masked face. Clearly, comforting crying civilians didn’t come naturally to him the way combat did. Although, in his defense, few had the energy to navigate a hysterical woman’s emotions after just starting (and finishing) a fight.

“I didn’t mean. . . The jokes are stupid, I know—”

“—no, it’s not that.” You waved off the unwarranted apology and attempted to put a lid on the accumulated stress that had decided to manifest in the form of frustrated tears. “I just realized I didn’t even get to eat lunch, is all. I always clock out at 12:30, but that asshole threw everything off with his shitty robbery attempt, so now it’s 1:07, and we’re only allowed thirty minutes, and I still haven’t had any food today besides a soggy bagel this morning, and I’m so fucking tired, and he pulled a blaster on me—”

The rant quickly devolved into hurried gasps for air, your chest heaving, your lungs not fully functional. How embarrassing to be rendered to a state of hyperventilation, especially since an infamous vigilante was around to witness your crumbling composure.

“Deep breaths,” Spider-Man murmured, pulling you by the shoulders toward him, your nose connecting with his sternum. To you, such was an act of humanity free from ulterior motives; this hug was the simple conclusion to everything that had transpired. A solace. “That’s it, just breathe when I breathe.”

Easier said than done, but you could appreciate the sentiment all the same. Some minutes later, your lungs had begun to expand and contract at a regulated pace, heeding his own rhythm.

“You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Safe. Was it safety, then, that caused this warm fuzziness to bloom in your chest?

You couldn’t recall when you’d last felt this comforted by another’s presence, when you’d last been this at peace in a world overrun with strife and conflict. There was no telling how long you stayed wrapped up in his steady embrace, your respirations synced. The very passage of time seemed to halt, the two of you frozen in this singular moment.

Only when the wailing of sirens began to draw nearer did he remove himself from you and vacate the premises, swinging from one building to the next, further and further away.

Only when he left your line of sight did you finally shut your eyes, preparing yourself to be questioned by the approaching news anchors and police officers.

fin.

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

Hi hello me again- recently checked out the suicide squad issue with Arthur that you recommended to me. Very funny how the group is handled in that issue versus how they're portrayed in JLA (same writer too! Hence the reason they were likely pulled for the first issue. A funny note on the difference in tone between eras in my mind (early 90s versus early 00s)

Anyway there isn't too too much insight into Arthur beyond the fact that a) he has no qualms about hurting kids even before he learns that they're not really people. Gee I wonder why. Certainly not a pattern of behaviour he's shown before. Nosiree

And b) he says Steph is "just as messed up as him"- patently false but I imagine a comforting thought for Arthur, that Steph's vigilantism is just the product of an addled mind much the way his criminality is. And not that Steph is everything he isn't.

Also that despite his clear disregard for his wellbeing or her as a person, he still wants her to think highly of him and knows heroism is the way to do that. Whether he wants this bc he sees Steph as 'beneath him' and needing to know her place (that is to say, looking up to him) OR if deep down he knows Steph is a better person than him (as crystal says, it's "surprising that she turned out so wonderful" given the circumstances- something I'm sure Arthur is smart enough to recognise when hes not deluding himself) and wants her approval, much the same way he craves the approval of other criminals. I like the second reading a lot bc it lends credence to my own view that Arthur's abuse and even his crime is driven by insecurity about his capabilities and station in life!

And that's just everything I was able to waffle on about from about 9 panels! Neat :] reread robin 111 for the umpteenth time, reread all 3 issues of her robin stint (her initial reaction to being made robin AND the cheating thing is. Ooc and contrived respectively but AUGHHH SHE'S SO CUTESY SHE'S TRYING TO HARD SHE'S SO EXCITED TO BE ON THE TEAM AGAIN AND THEN BATMAN. HE. AUGHHH BOILING HIM LIKE A LOBSTER!!!). Robin/spoiler special is probably next, and the latter half of her batgirl...

First of all THANK YOU for getting it…. I’m always thinkng and saying things like ‘Batman should be boiled like a lobster’ and ‘Batman should be slammed into a wall at maximum velocity’ and ‘what if I exploded Batman with my mind’. Like a great guy in isolation im extremely compelled by certain aspects of his character but when im thinking abt stephanie brown (which is like all the time) hes.. he’s so.. lowkey want to kill him with a rock.

Arthur’s “just as messed up” line makes me insane. Like, as you pointed out, not true. But also for the aspects of her that are a little messed up... Whose fault is that. Who could possibly be to blame for that Arthur Brown. Who messed her up..I wonder how that came about. Strange. Guess we’ll never know.

Like Cluemaster is seemingly ascribing any potential “messed up-ness” to a genetic or maybe fate(?) based factor, oh Steph she is just as messed up as me, we’re alike she’s inevitably messed up for inevitable reasons. Instead of the much more obvious and true reason Steph might be a little fucked up: because he abused her throughout her childhood. Like Arthur is not only projecting he’s also engaging in Next level shirking of responsibility.

His whole wanting Steph to know thing is so Urghh because even if he did mean it in a good way, like even if it was his weird way of trying to show he cares about her opinion of him, Steph takes it so poorly and is understandably sent spiraling.

Abt Steph’s time as Robin that’s pretty much exactly how I feel. Like I hate how rushed the whole situation is and how despite being in Steph’s pov we don’t really get the rationalization that is there for why she’s so quick to believe the worst of Tim. Like her time as Robin isn’t written in a way that gives her the benefit of the doubt or seems all too invested in presenting an in depth understanding of her POV as valid. And then it ends and it’s shallow and then war games tries its absolute hardest to make everything Steph’s fault forever so that it’s okay that she dies.

But on the other hand…. She gets to do headstands and jump for joy and shake her fists in the air in excitement!! She’s so damn happy! She does a backflip!! She blabs to Cass about how happy she is that she’s good enough! Who could have figured that she was good enough after all! Haha what if she isn’t irreversibly bad because her of her dads actions!! lol!! Who could have guessed!!!

I’m Exploding Batman with my mind.

Sorry this took me a hot sec, just finished my own finals, thank u so so much for your thoughts as always peace and love

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Gay wrongs tournament, round 1 of the minor bracket

Propaganda:

For Mick Rory and Leonard Snart:

The only supervillains on that show that understood the assignment. Thieves with a flare and loyal only to eachother. Eventually become anti heroes on legends of tomorrow but I liked them best as villains. The best part of both shows. Over the top and committed to the theme for the vibes. Puns and crime.

Fire and ice pairing! 

For Sergey and Oleg: (propaganda from the previous tournament here)

They're so married!!! The domesticity oh my god they live together and they sleep in the same bed and they're worried if the other isn't here when they wake up and they take care of each other when they're sick. Sorry, the latest issue was a lot. Anyway, the crime-doing part. They're both officially criminals and they're wanted in quite a few countries for various reasons: in Russia they killed A Lot of people in various bloody and/or arson-y ways (most famously rich corrupted people, which only antagonists can do) and blew up some stuff (which also killed a lot of innocent people) and kidnapped other innocent people just to get revenge on one guy who was just doing his job (the cop who got Sergey in prison while Oleg was out of the country) (and technically Oleg breaking Sergey out of prison is also a crime, on top of all his solo mercenary stuff). In Italy they also killed people and also broke countless laws (you can even count building safety laws in here for fun), in Mexico (honeymoon!) they had a run-in with the local mafia and that also ended bloodily, in a few other countries they were mostly just evading the law but you can't really do that without breaking other laws. They stole at least one helicopter (after killing the soldiers in it). And that's all *before* the current series. In that one they're coercing someone into becoming a vigilante (an already wanted by the law vigilante), and they're trying not to do so much public things, because they like being presumed dead and not being on the run. But that doesn't stop them from bloodily killing anyone who threatens them or Lera (the med student under the new Plague Doctor costume) or their plan, or defending themselves (by killing people) when the consequences of their past actions come around (does it even count as legitimate defense when you kill almost all the henchmen of the guy who wants to kill you because years ago his parent was an unfortunate victim of your beef with someone totally unrelated? Not sure). And yes *technically* they're killing other criminals, but also they are much worse criminals themselves (as said on- page by a secondary character who was trying to kill them because of, well, all the past terrorism / murder).

They're widely considered to be the worst people in a town full of criminals. A lot of people want to kill them, because of all the murders they did earlier. In all their appearances they're either the most married couple of a series that also has real married couples, or extremely efficient killers who don't have a qualm disposing of everybody else's henchmen.