#who put this joker in charge of a child

[mikkeneko]

Of course Shen Yuan is a poser of the first grade, but reading vol. 4 (specifically the chapter with Shang Qinghua, Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu going on a mission together) really makes it clear that his predecessor, Shen Jiu, was also a massive poser. Keeping the streak alive <3

#honestly this increases my affection for him #shen jiu #poser prime #who put this joker in charge of a child #svsss #'you're holding your book upside down'

[hana-no-seiiki]

WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 1)

YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER

A lil’ platonic yanderes harley and joker in the mix too hehe

gender neutral reader.

cw/tw: mentally ill reader. reader has schizophrenia. reader has a massive fear of abandonment. harley and joker only feed to that. a r s o n among other crimes. gaslighting. manipulation. implied r*pe (by reader im so sorry you guys) reader is interested in all genders.

summary: meet jinx, gotham’s loudest, most explosive villain. no one knows who they really are, or if jinx is really even their name. but one thing’s for sure — they’ve got a lot of people chasing after them and their reasons aren’t so noble.

status: unedited

Considering Jinx was inspired by Harley Quinn. You’re probably her protégé. Her darling little child with Joker.

YOUR ORIGINS:

She saw you in the aftermath of the explosion. Cold and alone. Fire roaring behind you despite the heavens pouring its heart out, as if it was desperately trying to wash your tears and pain away.

She saw your bruises and a girl a little older than you walk away.

Her heart ached for you. No child deserved to be put in that kind of position, so she stepped in and made herself known.

“ I . . . I only wanted to help . . . Don’t leave me . . . Don’t . . .

You muttered.

Joker, who came here to marvel at the chaos such an explosion would present smiles maniacally.

You. You were the one that did this.

This beautiful wreckage and an equally beautiful child.

You were practically begging to be moulded into a weapon.

You charged at them both as they got closer, and while Harley was ready to defend her man - even hurt you if she has to - they did not expect what came next.

You just, held unto Joker’s right leg.

“ She’s not my sister . . . No . . . if she was she wouldn’t leave me . . . “

You were far too emotional for his liking. But nonetheless. A boon can always be found in a curse. That is, your desire for revenge.

He takes one look at Harley before picking your small body into his arms.

“ Who cares about fools like them, little one? They don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”

His smile never stopped widening, yet even as a kid you never saw it as creepy or unnerving. In fact, it only reminded you of the smiles you used to draw on your nail bombs.

“All we ever truly have is ourselves. “

“So, smile. Don’t let your tears bring you down.”

Moulding you into the perfect weapon was easy.

Having a psychiatrist as a partner did help a lot in your development.

All it took was a few reminders of that fateful day before you began obediently following their rules and instructions.

You were a genius and since Harley kept protesting against it. You weren’t baptized into a vat of acid like the couple was.

Now, Harley and Joker are the worst possible parents you can ask for. So unlike Arcane’s Jinx. You are way way more unhinged. Not to mention, horny and materialistic.

As you grew up, you began to take interest in intentionally hurting people just for the sake of it. Stealing things was just a normal Tuesday for you. Being successful in your endeavors for once, and having bigger stacks of cash felt exhilarating.

The women and men were amazing. Your pseudo parents being who they were, didn’t really care if you were a sexual deviant or a pervert. When your hormones started kicking in they let you do whatever you want. Even giving you some of the people he held hostage as a toy to play with. If you have the capability of getting someone pregnant/or getting pregnant yourself they wouldn’t really care about the baby but you knew them well enough to know they’d use the kid as a way to manipulate you so you were careful in that aspect anyhow.

Harley noticed that when laying with women you’d often call out your sister’s name or call them sis by itself.

Sick. Disgusting. Is what a normal mother would think after finding out such a fact.

But to her you were just growing up so quickly. She had convinced Joker to go ahead and kill your sibling a long time ago behind your back and was growing anxious with the thought of you hating her and ruining this happy family dynamic (she had in her head)!

So she starts bringing you to more heists in disguise. Always keeping a close eye on you so that if any of those stupid heroes and vigilantes get any close, and you too far. She’d know as soon as possible.

It’s safe to say you grew up pretty spoiled, but even then you were hungry for more.

You see, even if they (Harley and Joker) weren’t careful with their “parenting” approach. They were careful with keeping you hidden from the Dark Knight himself.

Not that they were scared you’d get hurt. They could always nurse you back up again. Harley actually enjoyed the times you’d gotten in the cross fire. More time to take care of you in her arms.

They were mostly scared of the Dark Knight stealing you. Afraid that he’ll take you away and turn you into a goody-two-shoes they wouldn’t recognize anymore.

So as much as you were more involved it still felt like they were babying you.

It was your situation with you family all over again

But this time, this time you’ll show them…

You weren’t weak. And it’ll do them good to remember that.

YOUR RIVALRIES:

You made your debut at around the time Tim was still Robin.

You were his very own Joker. A menace deal with. A person that only cared for the thrill that came with hurting and killing masses.

You were terrible. Evil. A demon he had to exorcise from this world.

A demon he fell hopelessly in love with.

He didn’t know how his feelings came to be. It may have been the amount of stress and pressure he was facing coupled with having to deal with your ass every damn day whether directly or indirectly. But he found himself yearning to see you at times. Getting warm when he thought of you. He felt solace knowing that no matter how many times he’d attempt to tear you down completely, you’d still come back to face him once again.

He was so guilty of his feelings. How could he fall for someone as heinous as you? You were the worst of the worst. But somehow that made things so much more better.

You were a taboo. A vice he couldn’t have. The thought of entering such a forbidden relationship excited him just cause it was just that — forbidden , a temptation that should always stay like that.

He somehow manages to gain the self control to stay away from you for a while.

But then came Damian and he was set to replaced. Just like that.

“Wow there Timmy Boy. You look like shit.”

“J-Jinx?! Why are you here? How do you know my name?!” He asked as if he didn’t know every single detail about you himself.

“I have to know my little birdie well don’t I?”

“What kind of archnemesis would Jinx be to their little Robin if they didn’t do a lil’ research?” You spoke in a higher, cutesy voice as if you were your handgun that you’ve affectionally named Zapper.

“Right you are Zapper! I would be a terrible rival. That wouldn’t do for a hero as great as Timmy!”

He thought that all his work was all for naught. All the hours he spent trying to prove himself was gone so fast.

But you reminded him of his place in this world. Of his position as a hero. Your rival.

The warmth in your eyes when you looked at him sealed the deal. There was no coming from this. He was yours as you were his.

“Only I can hurt you like this, toots. Don’t forget that.”

Little did you know that Tim took those words to heart and never let anyone else hurt him (and stay alive).

“Big Bat can replace you but you’ll always be the Robin in my heart !” You winked at him, signaling with one of your manicured fingers for him to smile. Which ended up almost scratching your cheeks.

Tim was confused (incredibly flustered, not to mention har—), why were you so kind to him all of a sudden. He knew you were the playful type but you were usually ruthless when it came to battle. You weren’t one to play with food for too long. For you to excuse him, much less help him in such a state.

Who were you and what did you do to his Jinx?

“OW hEy! I swear if you put that there Pow-Pow— I’ll—“ Tim heard you screeching out of view.

Scratch his doubts. Yep, you were definitely still his Jinx.

The Dark Knight knew who you were from the beginning.

He had his suspicions even before you came into the scene. With your knack to tag everything with neon spray-paints.

At first he thought you were a simple thug that Joker and Harley picked up. But the way they were sheltering you made it seem otherwise.

The regret he felt knowing that you were basically a child in their filthy hands and was now far too gone to save was immense.

If only he knew. You wouldn’t be in this situation.

While he was “dead” he found himself looking into you more. About the death of your biological parents and the way your sister abandoned you to Harley and Joker.

He felt pity for your childhood and a sense of kinship. Sure the incident may have been your fault but you were a child. How could you have known your actions would have such terrifying consequences.

If only you knew him when you were younger.

If only.

He was sure you’d be one of the greatest vigilantes alive.

“I knew you were alive.”

You looked down at Batman, staring while both of you were being doused by the rain. Thunder accompanying the sound of conversation.

He takes a defensive stance.

“I’m not going to fight ya, that’s Joker’s thing. And I know he’ll grill my ass if I stole his archnemesis.”

“What a loser!”

“Hey! He took us in. We should be more grateful!”

Bruce looked at you as you talked with a new, rather large, shark shaped gun. He had memorized the names of all your “companions” by now and was oddly excited and slightly unnerved by the new one.

“So, why’d you leave? Was it . . . was it on purpose?”

“No.”

“Then come back.”

He almost dropped all his plans with the way you told him that.

“Tim needs you . . . and your other sons too or whatever.”

“Come with me.”

“You crazy, old bat? Why would I—“

“I know what it feels like to have no family. Harley doesn’t love you. Joker doesn’t love anyone.”

“Do you?”

“I do.”

“Well tough luck man. I don’t give a shit about love.”

You dropped down to his level. A thud resounds, loud enough to cut through the rainfall and thunder.

“Cause love never gave a shit about me.”

“We’ll have to refuse. Just get back to your sons, hero!”

“I’m sorry, perhaps I didn’t make it clear enough—

— I don’t think you have a choice in this matter, [Y/N].”

Act 2 with Jason, Dick and Damian coming soon! If you’d like to be tagged just reply to this post ^^

You like my writing? Follow my blog and maybe take a look at the fic linked below!

WHAT’S UP DANGER : Yandere Batfam x Miles Morales! Reader

#yandere tim drake #yandere robin #yandere red robin #yandere batfam #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere batman #yandere batman x reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere red robin x reader #yandere robin x reader #yandere dick x reader #yandere jason x reader #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere damian x reader #yandere damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader #tim drake x reader #batfam x reader #batman x reader #robin x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere jason todd #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere #dark batfam #yandere x reader

[river-bottom-nightmare]

au where the batkids just sort of,,,,,,invent a new batkid

it starts fairly innocuously, a cowl for someone’s costume ends up the wrong shape or the wrong colour. dick, having dropped by the cave to hand off some evidence or beg alfred for his new potato recipe (most likely both), sees it and his instant reaction is oh my god did bruce adopt another child vigilante? he’s colour-coding us now? fucking splendid

the confusion is cleared up quickly, but everyone got such a good laugh out of it that they keep the new helmet, insisting it belongs to bruce’s new kid ecurb. their vigilante name is Shadow The Dark Lad Blackwing Moron-With-An-Orange-Helmet Batbird. ever so creative.

(bruce doesn’t want to know.)

they collectively design a new costume for him. they convince oracle to help them get ecurb into the system, though it really doesn’t take much convincing, just a bit of dick’s puppy eyes and the utter ridiculousness of the situation that has her cackling. ecurb’s backstory is that he was part of travelling circus in america when he was kidnapped, held as a hostage, and tortured by the joker, during which he learned of batman’s true identity and also How To Fight Good, then was sent to kill bruce but was adopted by him instead. he’s a little older than damian but a little younger than duke, fights exclusively with brass knuckles, and his costume is black with orange polka dots.

(bruce really doesn’t want to know)

they talk about good old ecurb, or batbird depending on the company, amongst themselves all the time. good old ecurb, the only bat fast enough to get cass in rooftop tag. i heard ecurb took on bane with nothing but a water balloon and an empty laptop case and won. well i heard ecurb can get the gotham’s corrupt politicians to apologize to him. yeah, well i heard ecurb’s secretly a meta whose power is to neutralize other metahumans, and bruce keeps him as the ultimate contingency plan.

they talk about ecurb so much that the justice league believes bruce really did acquire a new child. other superhero teams are a little more skeptical, but after several select appearances in which different batkids donned batbird’s armour and were conveniently caught on camera, even they start to believe it. the titans really want to meet this new vigilante who can actually, consistently get dick to sleep. young justice want to fight him. but ecrub’s always undercover, or on a mission, or recovering because bruce trusts him so much, he’s already putting him in charge of the big stuff.

(bruce really really doesn’t want to know)

there are legends about ecurb. photos of him looking powerful yet mysterious, a carbon copy of batman but with orange polka dots. there are stories of the villains ecurb took on singlehandedly and won. apparently the green lantern corps contacted him and he turned them down. apparently he infiltrated the fortress of solitude and now is the leading expert on kryptonian tech. ecurb doesn’t fall off a cliff, he just changes the altitude of his fight. ecurb crashed a plane into a mountain and the mountain apologized to him.

they fake ecurb’s death as part of a plan to save the world. over a hundred heroes show up at the funeral. clark’s heart aches at bruce’s red-rimmed, watery eyes. bruce is two seconds away from collapsing on the floor in disbelieving laughter. ecurb rises from the dead a couple weeks later, no worse for the wear. his new costume now includes orange and pink polka dots.

the bats swear to take the secret to the grave.

#i have no idea where i was going with this #utter crack i swear #i just want them to joke about a new child bruce adopted #and it just. snowballs #kaahkgkaegarehgahe #scribbles from the swamp #batman #batfam #batfamily #dc #batman headcanon #batfam headcanon #batfamily headcanon #dc headcanon

[bats-and-birds-24]

Marked

Bruce knew he was marked from the start.

It started as an innocent observation by his parents. A birthmark in the shape of a bat, found on their infant's back.

As he grew older, it became ironic, the boy terrified of bats with a bat shaped birthmark? Bruce didn't know if God had a sense of humor, but the devil certainly did.

After his parents' death, it became an omen. The young boys' life was mired in misery, a precursor of what was to come.

When he donned the cowl, the mark became fate. He became what he was always meant to be. He had no choice in the matter, it was as Gotham had decided.

Since the birth of the city, Gotham has been cursed, cursed to collect curses, cursed to be the definition of madness, cursed to spread its misery.

Until one day, Gotham got a gift, not nearly as powerful as her curses, but important in its own way.

It decreed that a select few of her people will be fated to stand up to the curses. They will be gifted with intelligence, strength, kindness, and luck to the point that they can cheat even death.

Most importantly, it gave them an unbending will, a drive to do good.

Gotham's curses were bound to spread.

First spreading North to Bristol then South-west to Bludhaven, until it was put to an end by Bruce.

He shut the curses' power from their source. The misery in Gotham.

As Batman, he put an end to rampant crime and made it safe to walk in the night.

As Bruce, he gave out jobs like candy, and put roofs over people's heads, and food on the table.

The creeping growth of the curses stilled. For a moment Gotham was hopeful.

But it wasn't to last, as Gotham's protectors grew stronger, its enemies did as well.

First was the Joker, who would kill with a smile, the world was made for his entertainment, and entertain him it will.

Then came Ivy, her plants and she alike, both exotic and beautiful, and deadly.

Harvey Dent's kindness and cruelty took their cues from the flip of a coin. While Scarecrow pushed fear to the limits, just to see what it could do.

Gotham sensing that her favorite son can't handle this alone, gave him his first young charge;

Dick Grayson, the happy child who once flew from trapezes, now flew in Gotham's skies, bringing hope to the poor and downtrodden.

Next was Barbara Gordon, who grew up watching her father fight crime and threw her hat into the ring as she got older.

After that was Jason Todd, who grew up in Crime Alley, he died doing his duty, but was brought back, for his work was unfinished.

Then came Tim Drake. The curious child who followed Batman and Robin with nothing but his camera and his wits.

Stephanie Brown was next, who saw her father's betrayal to the city, and in exchange, swore fealty to her.

Cassandra Cain was young, and mute, in exchange for her protection Gotham gave her a voice.

Damian Wayne, who was raised in the green and gold of assassins, who was molded from birth, was given choice.

The child who started a rebellion, Duke Thomas, who's birthright was light itself. Sparked hope in Gotham's dark.

They were all marked from the start, but the choices they made after their fate were all their own.

If Gotham made them hers, they made Gotham theirs.

#marked au #gotham #batfamily #batfam #batsiblings #batman #jason todd #tim drake #dc robin #red robin #red hood #bruce wayne #stephanie brown #spoiler dc #cassandra cain #black bat #barbara gordon #oracle #batkids #nightwing #dick grayson #damian wayne

[lyranova]

The Golden Dawn Mafia AU!

William Vangeance: The King. He grew up in poverty and was mostly ignored by everyone, until eventually it was revealed to him that he is the bastard child of a major company’s CEO, and was set to inherit it. But after moving in with his father and step-mother his neglect and mistreatment only grew worse. Until eventually he ran away as a young teen and stumbled into a high class bar that was run and owned by Julius Novachrono called “The Grey Deer”, and Julius took him under his wing (along with Morgen Faust, Yami Sukehiro, and Marx Francois) and eventually showed him his true business before helping him establish his own “Mafia Family”.

Zera Cassia: The Queen. She is the youngest child and only daughter of Rika Cassia, the leader of a world renowned Mafia group. Originally she wasn’t supposed to get involved in the “underworld” like her father and brothers, but they all found that she seemed to have a knack for it and so was put in charge of smuggling things in and out of the city of Clover. Many suitors asked for her hand, not because they loved her, but because they wanted her family’s power and influence. So in order to get the suitors to stop harassing her decided to choose a random mafia leader to marry; William Vangeance.

Yuno Grinberryall: The Ace. He is the son of a wealthy CEO and his wife, and is an only child. After his father was killed when he was an infant he was raised by his mother and was set to inherit his father’s company after he became of age. But at the age of 15 he discovered that his father was assassinated by a mafia family called the Zogratis’s, and so after some searching he went to the Golden Dawn mafia family and joined them to find out who killed his father and to take revenge while also keeping his mother and the company safe from the Zogratis family.

Neva Belmonte: The Diamond. She is the adopted sister of William and is the daughter of a popular chef and baker. When she was 7 years old her parents were killed during a robbery and because she had no living relatives was sent to an orphanage. She wasn’t there long as the next day William Vangeance, a good friend of her parents, came to get her and raised her as his little sister ever since. He tried his best to keep her away from the mafia life, but instead she ran right for it, and ended up becoming one of the strongest in the family. She is referred to as “the Princess of the Golden Dawn” by the other family members.

Mimosa Vermillion: The Flower. She is the daughter of a wealthy mafia family, but instead of joining the family like they expected her to, she decided to join the Golden Dawn and become the mafia family’s in-house doctor.

Klaus Lunettes: The Lance. The son of a well to do business man, Klaus was projected to go to college and take over his fathers business once he decided to retire. But after he witnessed William Vangeance and his mafia family help a group a young women that the cops ignored and wouldn’t help, he found that he admired them. So instead of taking over his fathers business, he decided to join the Golden Dawn.

David Swallow: The Joker. He is cunning, sly, and is one heck of a gambler. After trying and getting caught cheating at cards, he was saved from being killed by William and Langris Vaude. To repay his debt, he decided to join the Golden Dawn. Now he runs the gambling houses and casino’s that are in the Golden Dawn’s territory.

Alecdora Sandler: The Jack. He is the son of a wealthy business man and is the heir to his families ‘empire’. When he was a teen he was kidnapped and held for ransom for days, and just as he was about to give up hope of being rescued he was found by William Vangeance and his mafia family the Golden Dawn. But instead of going back to his family, he decided to join William, and he works hard everday to try and repay him for saving his life.

Letoile Becquerel: The Navigator. She is the daughter of computer engineers, and has always been very good at computers and communications. She is the Golden Dawn’s chief navigator and always makes sure that the family is where they need to be and gets to where they need to go. She tends to work off-site, and uses in-ear comm’s in order to communicate with the family.

Langris Vaude: The Knight. He is the youngest son of the Vaude family and is their pride and joy. He initially joined the Golden Dawn at his parents request, since they wanted to keep tabs on William and what he was doing with their money, but after a while Langris found he began to admire the man and started to follow him willingly. He mainly takes care of the business side of things, and leaves the “shadier” side to the others as he doesn’t like it nor does he want to be associated with it.

#black clover #black clover mafia au #the golden dawn #william vangeance #oc; zera #oc neva #yuno grinberryall #mimosa vermillion #klaus lunettes #alecdora sandler #langris vaude #david swallow #letoile becquerel #i was inspired by laura to post mine 😆

[batboysoneshots]

Crowbar (Angst)

Summary: Jason gets a flash back from being tortured by the Joker, he is stuck in the flashback until Bruce snaps him out of it.

Some Jason angst.

Third person pov...

Jason was out on patrol as Red Hood and was fighting some assholes who tried to beat up some street kids, Red Hood heard their screams and came running to help.

The alleyway was dark, atleast 6 men stood infront of a group of three kids all younger than 13 cowering together to keep safe, jsut as one of men grab the arm of the younger kid Red Hood jumped down from the roof.

Using the sides of the buildings he leaped from side to side and landed on the back of the man. "What the fu-" He was knocked out before he would finish his words.

"Run kids!" Yelled Jason, the rest of the men stand against the Red Hood and charge at the anti-hero.

He doesn't use his guns on the men since children were present, as he knocked out the last guy he heard a horribly familiar sound.

*Scraaaaape*

It was made by a crowbar, one of the attackers he hadn't knocked out enough picked it up. Jason frozen eyed widening breath uneven as he was thrown back into his mind if the horrible day.

Suddenly he was 15 years old, still Robin and locked in the warehouse, being tortured by the Joker. He was tied to a chair ropes digging into his wrists and feet.

He couldn't feel his legs, the coldness of thr warehouse had already seeped into his skin tremors racked his beaten and bruised body.

His body was in pain and head ached, then that horrible laughter appeared making him shake harder, he was almost rattling the chair as he heard the sound of his nightmares, it got louder and louder and louder!

"-ason..."

"-ason... it's... uce...!"

"-on... um ..."

Suddenly his helmet was gone, the claustrophobic feeling was removed his breathing was better, he started to come back to his senses, warm rough hands covered his ears and cupped his face gently as if cradling a baby.

"Jason, its Bruce! Come on Chum"

"Breath for me" Jason took a deep breath and let it put slowly, he could feel his heart beating normally again as the flash back finished.

As his vision cleared he saw the person who snapped him out of his flashback, the black figure was blurry but he saw blue eyes, calm but worried blue eyes.

'Who was worried about me ?' He thought, then the figures body came into focus a big black bat on the chest of the person helped him remember.

"Bruce" he whispers in a horse voice, he must of been screaming he realised, Bruce's eyes softened even more at his voice. "It's okay Jaylad, I'm here" his voice rumbled comforting Jason as his panic attack subsided.

Finding comfort in the hands cupping his face he relaxed against Bruce finding the man's Cape and finders it, the material comforting, he's loved playing with the batman Cape since he was a child it felt comforting to him.

Breathing deeply he put his ear on the man heart. *thump thump thump* the sound helped the teen come to his senses again. "B where-" "-We're in the alleyway son, you saved those children, they are safe because of you" explained the man.

Jason sighed he was glad they were okay. "Good, why you here?" He askes the man, slurring his words, he felt like jelly.

Bruce froze slightly then relaxed his shoulder and rubbed his sons back comfortingly. "The heart monitor in your suit became to high, I got worried and came looking for you, when I arrived there were a pile of knocked out men on the floor, you were curled up by the wall shaking and screaming-"

Bruce paused, took a deep brath then squeezed the boy in his arms as if remembering he was okay.

Jason squeezed back. "Oh" he mumbled. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you before Jaylad, I regret it I've regretted it every day since you died" The emotion in the man's voice threw Jason.

'He was worried about me' he thought voice in his head conflicting him with his feelings about the stoic man. "Itsokay B, your here now" he mumbles against the man's chest, Bruce hugged him closer.

Jason struggled with his next words. "I-i want to try being a family again, w-with you B" he almost whispered hoping the man heard him. "Really" the question threw him. "I do, I want to try, if you will try to" he says the man pulls him back.

Jason almost pouts at the lost of contact. Bruce's eyes are wide with emotion. "I want to try, I want to be a family with you Jaylad" he says to the teen, Jason pulls his lips into his signature grin.

"Great old man, let's get back to the cave" he says staggering as he stands, Bruce was there in second supporting his weight as he stood.

"Let's get home" the two vigilantes walk together to the Batmobile, they will try and this time it will work.

The end!

Hope you liked this, very angst hope I got the characters and emotions right, always love me some angst lol sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Request are open f!

Word count: 900

#batboys #batman #bruce wayne #oneshot #batman fanfiction #family #jason todd #crowbar #tw torture #panic attack #angst #lots of angst #family bonding #father son #jason todd is red hood #joker #trauma #batman being a dad #comfort #lots of comfort

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Alright so John Constantine gets a call from an ex… who owns part of his soul. (This is my Viking btw)

“John, I will give you your soul back if you do me a favour.”

“Uhh…”

“I will TELL you what they’re going to do to you when you die if you do this for me.”

“Aren’t they gonna just fight each other luv?”

“Don’t call me that and oh god you fucking DUMBASS.”

So John agrees and comes to see her. With her is a young boy in the shape of a 5 year old.

“John, you idiot, this is Danny Phantom. Crown Prince of the Infinte Realms. I need you to take care of him for a few years.”

Constantine goes brain dead and kind of splutters. Because WHAT?! But it’s legit.

Viking here was taking care of Danny but can’t anymore because the LOA took exception to her murdering Ra’s again by dismembering him while scattering his pieces and blowing up a Lazarus Pit so they’re hunting her. She has to take care of that. Danny was in her care as a favour to Clockwork because he was badly hurt during a fight with the GIW and so his parents got him to CW, and went to deal with it. Turned into a suicide run and killed them. Sam, Tucker and Jazz died to sadly, and now are ghosts along with the adult Fentons. But the Infinite Realms aren’t safe for Danny as Vlad is trying to take control as due to his injuries Danny had to be deaged.

Viking is really short on people to call. She’s an immortal Viking who fights for fun and has more enemies then friends. Constantine is the ONLY ONE she trusts.

Yeah she’s aware how sad it is. But she can’t give the kid to anyone else. Even the baby Revenant she fucks with isn’t a choice due to him subconsciously eating all the ectoplasm around him. Danny can’t fight that off. Meaning she can’t go to Batman.

So she has to get Constantine. So now he’s in charge of baby Danny. Of course he doesn’t want to but Viking reveals that “Before the injury Danny had to do paperwork for the Realms and got so annoyed at your soul bullshit he declared he’d give people a 10 year tax reduction for your soul. He owns all of it now. And if Vlad manages to get the throne your soul will belong to him.”

A crazy ghost obsessed with control or a boy who went: I dunno I’ll make him like… clean shit? Who knows. I’m done with his bull.

Yeah not much choice. So now John is in charge of Danny!!

Other notes:

- Danny remembers and doesn’t remember being his proper age. He’ll remember more when he’s older though.

- Danny is a little shit as a child whose embraced the feral Racoon life.

- Viking routinely gets chased by the LOA, usually though it takes a few years after she’d murked Ra’s. It’s been 5 since and he came back way to early. She’s gonna drop his head into the ocean next time. She’s also going to get her own body chopped up but she’s going to make it hell for them first.

- I like the idea that Constantine went and spoke to Batman about backup for this. Batman was on the watchtower, heard Constantine was talking to an old ex. He decides to put speakers on and listen in with the rest of the JL for shits and giggles.

- Batfam is also listening in.

- Constantine didn’t actually know what a Revenant was, getting them confused with Remnant which to be fair are kind of similar. Everyone else actually did to. Viking finds it funny.

- This is how Jason learns he’s one to and that he has to kill the Joker to actually die. He’s a little smug that Bruce has to let him do it now or damn him to walking the world.

- Constantine being the dad of the next Ghost King is both hilarious to everyone and terrifying but really: he’s the ONLY ONE other then Batman who can do it as Gotham is heavily protected thanks to *hand wave* and no one else has as much history with the occult like he does. Or as many fingers in pies or whatever the saying is.

#danny phantom #dc and dp #john constantine #Viking Revenant #the babysitting job

[ekat-fandom-blog]

No Dick Grayson AU

Alfred convinces Tatsu Yamashiro(Katana) and Dinah Lance(Black Canary) to join Batman's crusade when it starts getting difficult for him to handle crime on his own. Katana brings Barbara Gordon into the fold as Oracle because Barbara is determined to help the vigilantes.

A few years later, Bruce joins the Justice League(Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Flash, Cyborg, and Green Lantern). Dinah moves to Star City, and Katana disappears. Barbara starts to join Batman on patrols.

About a year later, Batman brings Jason Todd home. Jason tries to join Batman as a vigilante, but Bruce, Alfred, and Barbara convince him to wait until he's an adult. Bruce agrees to train him until then.

Jason starts helping Barbara with coms, Alfred with making sure they have the medbay fully stocked, and Bruce and Lucius with Wayne Enterprise Charities. Jason, as the top student, graduates a year early(age 16/17 since his b-day's in march) and goes on a world tour for extra training. He gets sucked into training with the League of Assassins, but leaves rather quickly via Talia tossing him to the All-Caste since Bruce knows where he is. He returns to Gotham as the vigilante Flamebat as a nod to his All-Blades and the dark red and black costume he created. As the All-Blades don't harm any non-magical being, he normally uses them when he wants to be dramatic or particularly threatening.

Barbara does get shot by Joker before Jason goes on tour and loses the ability to walk.

Steph also appears (at 15) on the vigilante scene briefly, but is talked out of it by Barbara and disappears for a while. When she gets back she decides to go out as Spoiler. When the others are unable to convince her to wait until she's at least 17 to start being a vigilante, Cass (as she's about 1 year older) is declared to be her patrol partner. (this happens just before Jason leaves)

Cass shows up a bit after Steph does. She's found by Barbara and is convinced to wait until she's at least 17 to start vigilantism. Bruce adopts her pretty quickly and gives her the tools to figure out who she is without the violence of being an assassin or a vigilante.

About a year after Jason returns, Damian (age 10) appears in the Bat's lives. He continuously sneaks out of the manor to prove that he's worthy and ready to become a vigilante and follow in his father's footsteps.

When Bruce disappears, Jason takes on the responsibilities of being Batman and CEO of Wayne Enterprise. Cass and Alfred take on the role of being Damian's primary caretakers. Tim figures out that Bruce is still alive after getting "lost" in Wayne Manor during a gala, and leaves an anonymous tip about it for the Bats to find. (Tim doesn't know that they're the Bats, just that somehow Bruce ended up in the past.)

After Bruce comes back, things mostly go back to how they were before. Except, they catch wind of a group of child vigilantes. Beast Boy (age 13), Blue Beetle (14), Impulse (16), and Raven (13). When interrogated, the adult heroes find out that: Beast Boy had joined a group called the Doom Patrol and been with them since he was 11 but left because of conflicting morals, then run into Raven and Impulse; Blue Beetle had been doing superhero stuff for a few months before he ran into the other three; Raven had been picked up by Beast Boy while running from a cult that wanted to use her to summon a demon; and Impulse is the one who pulled the group together to help prevent a future event from happening. Not knowing exactly what to do with the group of child heroes, they put Kon (aka Superboy; 17) and Spoiler (18) in charge of the group that's now called Young Justice.

Around half a year later, Damian(11 almost 12) joins the group along with Jon (Superboy; 12).

They also find out somewhere along the way that Billy Batson was 10 years old when he started superhero-ing.

#batman #dc captain marvel #shazam #billy batson #damian wayne #jason todd #dc katana #tatsu yamashiro #dinah lance #black canary #bruce wayne #dc oracle #barbara gordon #do you know how much i want this to become a fic #i would pay $15 for someone to turn this into a well written multi chapter fic #that isn't legal tho #so i can say i'd draw the outfit i imagine jason creating if someone writes this #i would also be 100% willing to post about it on here if that's something that will help convince someone to write this #please

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into the Unknown

If you're happy and you know it

(The sequel story that I will never do)

~~~~~

After a lot of debating over the ethics of leaving baby!Damian as a baby vs aging him up (and a rogue suggestion that they yank an alternate-universe Damian over right before he dies so they can all have their way), they decide to let him grow up naturally. In the end, baby!Damian is still a child and in the process of aging him up magically Damian would reexperience all of his traumas in basically a split second, which is just a lot of mental strain to put someone through. Beyond that, even after aging him up they still wouldn’t get the original Damian back, as the base person is so fundamentally different.

So, Damian basically gets to have a happy childhood with his parents and new extended family! Yay him!

I mean, sure, Damian has never truly known a world outside of the one he had been in, and his aunt and uncles are acting weird around him for reasons he can’t really comprehend, and his dreams are getting increasingly concerning and confusing, and his parents seem more quiet than usual even though they’re around more to hang out with him…

Did he do something wrong?

Meanwhile, Adrien comes from France to check on her and also chuck the Miraculous Box back at her in revenge. Marinette explains that she no longer wishes to do superheroing, but would be happy to help support him from the sidelines. Adrien is surprised, because she had been so interested like a year ago, but before he can be like “oh, good for you”, Gotham experiences its Giant Rogue Attack Of The Week and Adrien looks at the bats like Damn bitch you live like this? Gotham vigilante crew has now been adopted by a French demigod, congrats to them.

But, since Adrien is staying in Gotham, he and Marinette have to navigate this new dynamic between themselves where Adrien actually takes charge while Marinette is more of a healer character, staying out of sight during battles and only really cropping up at the end of fights to help victims and make sure her favorite Kitty doesn’t die. She has the condition that she will not enter a fight at all, as she refuses to leave Damian without a parent, and she will keep to it. So, Adrien is a little bit more careful, not wanting to risk it.

In that same vein, this old universe is still a cesspool of villains that didn’t exist in the original one. Joker, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze. And, as a Wayne, and a young one at that, Damian keeps getting targeted.

Until villains start dropping off the map. Under mysterious circumstances. And none of the bats can bring themselves to look into it. Because it’s much harder to brush off all of the deaths they have been indirectly causing by letting Rogues live when you know the person who has almost died personally. Even more so when that person that almost died is your little brother that closely resembles the little brother that you just found out ‘died’. When the person that almost died is the little brother that named that stuffed turtle you bought him Turtle because he’s too young to be good at naming things (and will never get better, because they had seen what he had named Alfred the Cat, and maybe the reminder just makes it more difficult).

In the meantime, Tim goes back to work as CEO and starts training to be a vigilante again. People at his job who hardly respected him before because of his age and the nepotism surrounding his hiring now don’t respect him at all after his sudden 6-month break. But that's just his day job, his cover. He's rich. He could quit at any time with very little repercussions.

When it comes to his vigilantism, if he works hard, he could get back into it in a few months, but he keeps watching his family members walk back home with bruises and cuts and more and he had forgotten just how bad it had gotten. Or, maybe he hadn’t forgotten, maybe he had just never realized, and his time as a civilian has altered his perspective.

But he has always been one to commit, and he can’t bring himself to sit by idly without helping, and it isn’t quite so dangerous when most of the major players have been forcibly removed from the equation, so he does it.

Until he comes back, bleeding all over the floor, yelling for Marinette, and Damian sees him. The kid stares at him with horrified, wide eyes. And it would be one thing if Damian didn’t understand, if it was something he would later realize was a close call, but Damian rushes forward to press his hands against the wound.

He realizes he can’t bring himself to do this to the kid.

But he can’t sit idly by while his family risks their lives, either.

So, he becomes a mechanic in this world, too.

And, with both Tim and Marinette off the streets, and Damian more or less safe, and a little bit of time where they get used to their 'new' lives…

Tim proposes. Properly.

They have a wedding. Damian is the little ring bearer. Adrien is a bridesmaid. After all of this time, after all that struggling, they finally get their happy ending.

#into the unknown #timari #timinette #maribat #shutterbug #timmari #tim drake #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #i cannot stress enough how much i will not be doing this btw #dont ask i will ignore u #i want to move on pls let me

[herbrattybaby]

Chapter 7

"Wake up Mr Wayne we have much to discuss"

"Strange? You wont get away with this!"

"I already have"

More electricity passes through Bruce as he screames again

"I assume you thought of yourself untouchable. Well as you can see no one is untouchable"

Another shock passes through Bruce as he screams.

"Shut arkham city down. Its out of control!"

"Shut it down? By the end of tonight i'll be a hero just like you BATMAN"

(Meanwhile)

"Ms Perse is everything alright?" Alfred asked Perse who was biting at her finger nails her knee bouncing a clear indicator of stress and anxiety. What if he's really hurt? Or dead? The thoughts were beginning to be too much.

"I'm just scared" Perse said barely above a whisper. Shes not good at communicating how she feels and still doesn't speak that much. Of course she's gotten much better but not to the point to talking regularly.

"I assure you Master Bruce has everything under control so no need to worry it'll all be well"

Perse nodded and made her way to the bat cave. 'I don't care if he thinks i'm not ready I can't let him do this alone.

"What do you think you're doing young lady?" Robin came up from behind her.

Perse ignored him and started putting on her suit and mask. Robin couldn't lie she looked really pretty. gorgeous even.

"If you insist on going after Bruce i'm coming with you. Can't let you go alone"

"Fine, just keep up chicken tender"

Perse grabbed her hoverboard and started heading towards arkham city. Robin just stands there wondering why he let a little call him an item from kfc. He just sighed and started catching up with her.

Batman had just rescued Catwoman from two face and is now trying to figure out what protocol ten is until Joker almost sniped and killed her.

"You're not safe here no one is"

"Nine lives remember? And by the way who is the little one? Everyone is trying to figure out who she is. Especially Penguin. Saying that he wants her for his tacky collection"

"Kore is still in training shes not ready to fight alone. But when she is ready I doubt Cobblepot will giver her any problems"

"You sure do have a lot of confidence in her. Hope I can meet her soon" Catwoman smiled and went her own way.

'Where is he?!' Perse thought as she rode on her hoverboard. She continued to ride around until she found this building that said "Krank Co Toys" The word 'toys' made Perse want to slip but she had a job to do. no time for that. There were men blocking the entrance ready for a fight.

"Its the brat!" One of them yelled and they all charged at her.

'Theres water surrounding all over this place. Sucks for them'

Perse made a huge wave out of the water and crashed it into them.

'I AM ready. Papa doesn't know what hes talking about'

She made her way inside water surrounding her fist just incase anyone else tried to attack. There was a staircase that leaded down to a large room with a teddy bear in the middle of the floor and Bane looking at something on the wall. Perse knew she wasn't strong enough to take him in a fight but she wanted to ask if he'd seen her papa. So she confronted her fears and approached him cautiously.

"Hello?" Perse said.

Bane turned around and Perse jumped back a bit. She was scared and completely overwhelmed.

"Who are you child?" Bane asked

"I-I was wondering if you've seen pa- I mean Batman"

Bane started laughing.

"You must know we aren't on the best of terms right?"

"What happened?"

"Last time I saw him I was on the hood of his car as it crashed me into the water.

"Ohhhhhhh"

He didn't seem like he was gonna hurt her. But she wasn't for sure.

"So i'm guessing you're Kore am I right?"

Things spread quick didn't they?

"Thats me"

"Well its nice to meet you then Ms Kore"

"Likewise"

Perse didn't expect one of Batmans strongest enemies to be this chill? Maybe he wasn't such a bad guy after all.

"But to answer your question I have not seen the bat anywhere but I don't have a doubt he's here trying to stop Strange"

Perse was trying to keep it together she really was but she couldn't stop the tears that started flowing down her cheeks. What if he was dead? It would be all her fault. She could've been better, stronger, faster. Bane put his hand on her head in an attempt to comfort the now little Perse. Bane wasn't heartless he knew this girl meant him no harm. A part of him saw her as something to protect even though she was strong enough to handle herself.

"There's no need to cry little Kore you'll find the Bat i'm sure of it"

Perse only babbled and started petting his arm with her hand. Something she found comforting. Bane was beyond confused at this point but he just went with it. Bane didn't know what age regression was but he could tell She then hugged his torso and whined softly wanting to be embraced. Bane hugged her gently not wanting to hurt her with his strength.

"Kore, you know i'm your enemy right?"

Perse shook her head and hugged him tighter almost making it to where he couldn't breathe.

"You like me. Meanies did mean things to you"

Meanies? Is she talking about the people that experimented on him? Was she also experimented on? Or maybe just abused? He didn't wanna pry and make her upset. Bane picked her up and sat her on his lap.

"You need to be careful. Not all villians will be as kind as me. Just because someone has a tragic past doesn't mean they're kind"

Perse nodded in understanding and got up making her way to the exit. She smiled and waved to Bruce before continuing her quest to find Batman.

(Hope you all liked this part. I just thought Bane and Perse being friends because of their similar past)

#fandom agere #little space #agere #agerereader #little!reader #age regression #batman agere #agere caregiver #age regressor #agere reader #dc agere

[mugiwara-lucy]

While I don’t agree with the Bonney thing I feel people should stop harassing the animators, they’re just animating what they’re told to animate. I know people will say why keep animating it if you know the persons is a child and for one some could view it as a job and not read the manga to know and second no one should lose their job over this especially since they were drawing a fictional adult women body. If this was the body of a 12 year old I would question some more.

Moral don’t harass people who are doing what they’re told be mad at the high ups in charge

Hell I didn't even notice the thing with Bonney's arm until I saw jokers on Twitter crying about it.

Yeah that's dumb and they SHOULD be redirecting their anger from Bonney's arm to these Toei guys KNOWINGLY putting out risky shots of Bonney since obviously Toei and Oda are in contact with each other.

But harassing Toei is dumb and should NOT be condoned.

#anonymous #asks #replies #fucking creeps

[arkhamsrevenge]

Arkham Knight and the Queen of Hearts pt2

TW - talks of suicide!

Deathstroke got his money, Jason made good on his promise. I, however, slipped away. Jason was free to do as he pleased, I needed to put a monster down and in doing so die as well. This is it. The day I die. The healing factor was a bitch to get around, but everything has its limits.  Mine was found by Mr. Freeze, he owed me a favor.  I held the vile of red liquid in my hand.  

“This will suppress the healing gene. If you hurt yourself bad enough, you will be able to die.” Freeze’s words echoed in my mind. I licked my lips and loaded my pistol, a black SUV pulled up to the warehouse where I was perched.  Four men hopped out, as did the man of the hour, The Clown Prince of Crime himself. He looked around, as if he knew someone was watching him. He then broke into a coughing fit while being escorted into the warehouse. Here we go. Quietly, I climbed onto the pipes leading inside, slinking on them, following the clown. Deep breath. Finally, I decent down to the 4 goons and Joker, aiming for the biggest, killing him on impact. Before any others could react, I shot 2 more. One in the eye, the other through nose. The third took Joker and ran away from me.  

“Shoot the Meanie Queenie!” Joker shouted to the goon. I dodged the oncoming bullets some grazed me, but I didn’t stop progressing forward. I threw my pistol to the side, wanting to challenge myself. Though this was no time for exercise. Once closer to the goon I sprung off my hands, using my legs to grip his neck. I then threw my weight back, bringing him down. My legs released just as his skull hit the ground. I grabbed his head and smashed it into the ground. Again, and again, until his head was chunky mess. With blood all over me, all over my hands, I retrieved my pistol and headed after the Joker. I pushed the door to the next room, Joker was there pulling at the door, trying to break out.  

“It's weld shut.” I shouted at him. The Joker turned to me, his smile remaining on his face.  

“Is it? How?” I didn’t answer. “On that’s right a magician never reviles their secrets.” Then he started to cackle. “Alright you got me! So, what are we gonna do now? Play some party games until the bat comes take us to the loony house?” His laughs turned into coughs yet again. He’s sick. I stared blankly. “Come on what’s your story? Did I kill a parent or two? Another vengeful child?” I walked closer to the Joker who looked like he was getting ready for a hand-to-hand fight. “Let's go then.” He said he charged me. I stopped I place, raised my pistol and shot. The bullet landed in Joker’s chest causing him to fall backwards. He coughs again, this time blood leaving his lips. “At least...tell me...your name.” He wheezed. I raised my gun and shot him a again in the head. Finally putting the demon down once and for all.   

“Katrena (Kuh-tren-ah) Thompkins.”  

The rain was coming down hard and fast. As I walked across the rooftop, I started to take off my gear, jacket and belts. I downed the red liquid before shattering the vile, hoping Freeze didn’t want it back. I continued forward until I reached the edge of the roof. One of the tallest buildings in Gotham. I slowly got up on the ledge, the chemicals I drank were starting to take effect. I felt dizzy, almost drunk and numb.  So close. I looked up at the sky letting the hard rain puncture my face.   “I was wondering when you’d catch up to me.” I yelled, turning around to face the Dark Knight.  

“What have you done?” He roared over the sound of the rain. 

“What you couldn’t.” I screamed, feeling a laugh escape me. “I did what you couldn’t I sent a demon back to hell.” Batman stepped forward, cuffs in his hand.  

“You know what happens now.” I shook my head. “You don’t have a choice.” I laughed.  

“I never do. But right now, in this moment, for the first time ever, I do have a choice and I’ve already taken it.” Batman didn’t move waiting for me to continue. “I’m dead.” I shouted at him. “I’ve been dead for 8 years, and now all I have to do is step off this,” I said hanging my foot off, “and then I’ll be able to close my casket.” Batman stretched his hand out. 

“You don’t have to; I can help you. I have resources.” I snorted.  

“Like Arkham? No thanks. I did what I set out to do. I set a demon to hell, and now I’m going to follow him there.” And with that, I stretched my arms out and jumped off the edge. The wind tossed my hair around rapidly. I saw Batman look over the edge as I disappeared into the foggy darkness that came with the rain. He can’t see me; therefore, he can’t follow me. My eyes closed as I waited to hit the ground. Peace was finally taking hold as the chemicals circulating my bloodstream pulled me to sleep, forever.  

Jason, now wearing his Arkham Knight suit, walked to his office where he was training the Militia.  A girl, sleeping soundly in his arms, one whom just moments ago was falling to her death. The Knight entered a small room attracted to his office. Deathstroke was already there with doctors waiting for him.  

“Freeze gave her nothing more than a very high antihistamine. Just as you asked” he said as Jason lay Katrena on the bed. Doctors soon began to work on her, cleaning her up, making sure she didn’t have hypothermia etc.  

“Never seen someone so willingly jump to their death because they didn’t want to go to Arkham.” The Arkham Knight said shaking his head, walking out with Deathstroke.  

“I’ve known her a while. Her adoptive mother was Dr. Leslie Thompkins, killed by the Joker when K was fifteen.” Deathstroke explained. Jason turned to him wanting to know how he knew all this. Deathstroke continued, “She was friends with my son Jeriko. She lost him too, a week later to a bombing the Joker planned at their high school. She was right next to Jeriko when the bomb went off. She lived, Jeriko died physically, mentally, she was dead long before that or so Jeriko told me last time we talked.” The Arkham Knight nodded and continued walking.  

“And the super healing factor?” Deathstroke shrugged.  

“Haven’t seen her in eight years. No telling what she got herself into.” Knight and Deathstroke walked into the meeting room with all of Batman’s rouge gallery in attendance.  

“Now,” Deathstroke boomed, “Let’s begin.”  

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x oc #jason peter todd #jason todd #arkham knight

[sinvulkt]

Batman’s Downfall (To Stand Alone) by Sinvulkt (Wakare)

Chapter 1 - Jason

@whumptober-archive

There was a new killer in town. He called himself 'Red Hood'. Had he been clownier, Batman would have bet on a new scheme from the Joker part. This new Red Hood was nothing like the mafia boss who fell into acid, however. He was sneaky, precise, skilled, and he never missed. Even odder were his targets. Corrupt politicians, hardened criminals, violent policemen: none of his victims could have been called ’innocents’.

They were victims all the same. Murdered without conviction, their killer acting as judge, jury and executioner without right. For all his crimes however, the ’Red Hood’ remained an elusive presence, taunting yet out of reach. It infuriated the Bat to no end. Gotham was his city.

Soon enough, their paths crossed. Red Hood was crouched on top of a building, assault rifle armed. The gun muzzle was pointed towards a mafia boss responsible for a new kind of drug in Gotham’s streets. Red Hood’s index finger twitched. Batman landed in front of him before he could do more.

They fought.

Red Hood’s moves were familiar in an uncanny way. It brought Batman years back, to the idealistic version of him that hoped the outside world would fill the missing piece of his heart. It brought a bitter taste of ashes and blood to his mouth, as an assassin blade threatened his jaw. “You lost,” a female voice taunted.

The flash of a gun muzzle forced him to focus on the present. Red Hood used guns, not blades. A shot fired, and the pain blooming in his side was all Batman could do to not spiral even deeper into the past. He turned towards the culprit, a growl in his throat. One of the mafia goons stood there, half-stunned from having fired at the Bat. A second shot fired, much closer from Batman's ear, and the goon fell dead.

Batman spun, body faster than thought as he jumped on the threat. The copycat name, the familiar move, the strange non-lethality Red Hood faced him with stopped mattering as a single reality overcame all of his focus. Red Hood used guns. Red Hood killed. Red Hood was a threat to be put into submission, under tight control. 

His batarang flew, breaking through the outer shell of the red helmet. The man behind cursed, attempting to cover the hole with a hand, but Batman didn’t let him. He kicked, punched, and grappled into the threat’s personal space, ready to take the Red Hood down. It took a while before he actually glanced at the broken mask, and the eye it protected. Batman froze. Beyond the helmet was a domino mask encircling a familiar eye.  It hid a face Bruce thought he would never see again.

A malnourished child stood in the batmobile’s shadow, a tire in his hand. He kept his ground against Batman, afraid yet unrelenting to his fear. Batman had taken him back home.

The Red Hood turned tail. By the time Batman remembered to use his grapple and follow, he was gone.

|  • • • 𓋭 𓌹.𓌺 ☤ 𓅨 𓅚 𓁿 𓅓 🦇 𓐟 🦇 𓅓 𓁿 ☗ • • • 𓋭『S』• 🃟 ○

Batman was never late. 

Batman couldn’t afford to be late.

Bruce repeated that thought as he raced towards the source of the explosion. It echoed with each of his steps against Gotham’s dirty concrete, the batmobile long abandoned at a nearby road.

Batman was never late.

He was an ever present shadow, haunting Gotham’s night without any respite. Unkillable, unescapable. Criminals screamed in terror at his sight, filling the air with a charged smell of urine. He was never wrong, never mistaken. He was an infallible God, one for crime to bend forward. 

Batman was a God, but Bruce was just a man. An arrogant man that dared to wear divinity like a cape. A father who recklessly let his son into the front line. 

“Another kid, really?” Gordon had scowled as he was introduced to a fourteen year old Jason in his bright new robin uniform. Barbara’s injury hung heavy between them, an open secret never discussed. 

The Justice League members had uncomfortably shifted at the introduction. Flash cracked a joke about Batman being more chicken than bat, that fell empty into the loaded atmosphere until Jason scoffed and signaled to go home. Bruce could hear their whispers still. Murmurs about child soldiers, long glances at robin’s bruises, comments about Nightwing’s feud with him.

Batman was never late.

Bruce was.

When he finally reached the warehouse, it was to find a cold body among ashes. 

○ 🃟 •『S』𓋭 • • • ☗ 𓁿 𓅓 🦇 𓐟 🦇 𓅓 𓁿 𓅚 𓅨 ☤ 𓌹.𓌺 𓋭 • • • |

Jason was alive.

The thought spun in Bruce’s head, taunting, hopeful, irreal. It danced like the chimney fire Alfred lit during winter, so they could settle together on the couch, silent but for the sound of papers being turned, sometimes interrupted by light snickers escaping Jason’s throat as he read. It shone like a feverish dream, the kind of high fever Robin had gotten after a rainy autumn night, making Batman ache to punch away the sickness. It twisted his heart and tensed his muscles like a Damocles sword ready to fall. Gotham had a knack to kill the good and spare the guilty.

Jason was alive.

Or Batman was under Scarecrow’s fear gas, under Joker’s toxin or under Ivy’s pheromones, or maybe even a mix of all three. It felt like none of them though. The tingle of his fingertip, the pressure of his boots on concrete, the pulse of his blood racing too fast in his veins— it all felt real.

Jason was alive.

The proof was there, undeniable. The eye that had glared at him had been painful in its familiarity. It had narrowed hatefully but bravely, like when the second Robin met Batman's villain gallery for the first time. Because for Jason, Batman was the hero that had never saved him. He was the villain of Robin's story. 

In the light of Red Hood's identity, many incoherences suddenly made sense. His base in the Narrows, his vendetta against the Joker, his personal hate for Batman… So many clues had been spread in front of him the whole time, and yet Batman had been too blind to see them.

Jason was alive.

Who should he tell? Who already knew?

Alfred would guess something was wrong from Bruce's behavior alone. Tim as well, if he wasn’t distracted by another mission and lack of coffee. He might have to come clean to them both, or find an excuse to win time.

Dick was quite occupied in Bludhaven, and didn’t need the distraction. There was no way how the Justice League might react to a known killer before Batman found Red Hood again, so they would have to stay in the dark. It was a shame as many had already come across resurrections before, and their insight might have been useful.

Jason was alive.

Bruce had buried Jason’s body behind the manor. He had thrown the first shovelful himself, barely aware of anything beyond the bleeding gap exploding in his chest. It begged the question of how exactly Jason’s body had disappeared from its grave.

Taken by a sudden desire to check the proof of this new reality, Bruce rushed towards the batmobile and went home. He didn’t answer Alfred's confused inquiries, rather ordering him to bring a shovel and join him at the Wayne cemetery. He didn’t answer Alfred there either. His vision had been reduced to a thin tunnel whose only goal was to dig, dig, dig, until truth’s skeleton laid bare before him, tangible and constant beneath his inquisitive fingers.

Bruce made fast work of the grave. A few dozen minutes in, his shovel hit hard wood. It was several dozens of minutes too much for Bruce’s frenzied mind. As long as the box stayed closed, Red Hood could have been a hallucination. As long as the box stayed closed, Jason was both alive and dead, a Shroedinger’s problem Bruce’s mind chafed to resolve. His whole being tensed in anticipation of the solution. His hands should have shaken too much to open the coffin, but years of training had made them steady, and the wood box opened without complaint. 

It was empty.

A wild breath escaped Bruce’s lungs. Alfred stared at him, brows furrowed in a way that demanded answers, but also respected the time Bruce might need to give them. 

There was little probability his son’s body had walked away by itself. There had been someone digging the coffin, someone doing something to it, until Jason had grown, left behind Robin’s cheerful feathers and embraced the crimson color of death. The pinch of betrayal at someone being in the know before he was however, couldn’t survive long in front of the bittersweet wonder that raced through his veins.

Jason was alive. 

Jason was Red Hood. Red Hood was a killer. 

|  • • • 𓋭 𓌹.𓌺 ☤ 𓅨 𓅚 𓁿 𓅓 🦇 𓐟 🦇 𓅓 𓁿 ☗ • • • 𓋭『S』• 🃟 ○

Batman’s fingers danced over the body, searching frantically for a pulse. The impression of it danced in his mind, fragile yet present like the brush of butterfly wings. It felt warm, regular and powerful. It had been getting stronger every day spent in the manor, as the teen finally got the proper nutrients to grow. Batman’s fingers danced, searching for its memory. They only found death.

He couldn’t stop.

There was a part of Batman that was still running, that was still racing towards the explosion. A part of Batman that was still hoping that despite all odds, he would save the day. He just needed to go faster, he just needed to search further, and the mystery would unravel before him. There could be no break, otherwise something horrible no it can’t be not again no would catch up to him.

He couldn’t stop.

Batman made everything alright. Batman saved everyone. Batman always won.

So he had to be Batman.

He couldn’t stop.

If he was Batman, then surely his son was alive?

He couldn’t-

There must be a pulse-

He-

The floor was spinning. There was blood in his mouth and there was blood on his hands and the floor was spinning. He paid no mind to it, or to the pain beginning to ache in his knees as he frantically probed the delicate body facing him. His cape had settled around them, isolating them from the world and hiding most of the explosion damage from sight. It felt right.

He was Batman. He could fix this.

Jason-

A warm hand stopped his wrist, while another rested on his shoulder, steadying.

○ 🃟 •『S』𓋭 • • • ☗ 𓁿 𓅓 🦇 𓐟 🦇 𓅓 𓁿 𓅚 𓅨 ☤ 𓌹.𓌺 𓋭 • • • |

There was a clap on his shoulder. "Brooding again, B?" Bruce spun to face Dick, a rare smile pulling up his lips. 

"Not today."

It had taken a while for the family to be whole again. Bruce had no idea what trick Alfred had pulled to get Jason to come here, of all people. Things were still tense between them because of the ‘no killing’ Code, and the Red Hood had all but retracted to the Narrows. He didn’t care what trick Alfred had used however. Jason was here, and so was Tim, and Dick, and Steph, and Cass. That was enough. 

It was Christmas after all. A sufficiently grand occasion for Alfred to pull string until the whole family was there, except for Barbara who chose to spend it at the station with her father.

Bruce let Dick guide him into the living room. They were greeted by the usual bat bickering. A predictable consequence to having equally stubborn people gathered in one place. Bruce entered to the sight of Damian trying to stab Tim while shouting about his rat collection, while Jason silently read on the couch. Tim didn’t seem as much bothered by Damian’s attack as he was to Steph perched on a shelf, holding his coffee bowl out of reach. "You already had ten today. I’m not giving it to you." She promptly drank it, provoking a high pitched wail from Tim’s throat. 

It threatened to evolve into full blown chaos as Damian successfully managed to trap Tim in a chokehold, just as the latter lunged at Stephanie, crashing the shelf she was on over Jason. A single cough from the family butler stopped it, instantly bringing the mayhem back to order. Dick gathered the pieces of the fallen coffee bowl while Tim, Damian and Steph silently cooperated to bring the shelf back on straight. Jason settled back on the couch after a glance at the newcomers, pointedly ignoring them (ignoring Bruce).

Dinner was homemade. Alfred had outdone himself tonight. Soon enough, there was not a single crumb of guinea fowl left. The plates shone, dedicatedly cleaned of any juice that had filled them. The meal was far from calm, but it would have been unusual for the family to be silent. It was warm in its chaos, the room filled with jokes, laughs and half-hearted complaints. Bruce barely dared say a word in fear of breaking the peace.

By dessert, he couldn’t swallow a bite more. He glared at the chocolate cake, stomach full but tongue wanting. It disappeared from his sight before he could come to a decision as Jason spirited it away. Bruce turned to glare at the strawberry pie instead, accepting his loss as a fair price to pay for having let his guard down. An instant later a piece of chocolate cake landed on his plate. Bruce startled, looking up. He couldn’t see the culprit, but his identity was obvious. A smile stirred Bruce’s lips as warmth bloomed in his chest. Perhaps Alfred was right, and he should just give Jason some time.

After dinner, they settled on the couch for a movie. There was a short fight as Stephanie stole Damian's usual place, but it was soon resolved as Dick coaxed the latest Robin on his lap. Then, there was a second fight for the movie choice, but Tim argued that it should be Alfred’s turn to choose, since it was Christmas. Alfred obviously did not want to choose, but cornered by what was now revealed to be a whole family plot, settled for a classic Christmas movie. The story was silly, the characters stupid, and the music far too dramatic. It was hard to hear any dialogue over Jason and Stephanie’s criticism, Tim’s and Diaman’s snores, or Dick’s snickers.

Bruce’s eyelids grew heavier and he dozed off, surrounded by his children's warmth.

|  • • • 𓋭 𓌹.𓌺 ☤ 𓅨 𓅚 𓁿 𓅓 🦇 𓐟 🦇 𓅓 𓁿 ☗ • • • 𓋭『S』• 🃟 ○

Batman felt cold. A bone-deep freeze, that spurred even electrons into stopping. It slithered through his veins, paralyzed his nerves, numbed his brain into shocking emptiness. The hand on his shoulder felt burning in comparison.

"Batman," Clark whispered amidst the icy fog. "He is gone."

The fingers gripping Batman’s wrist disappeared and the limb fell limp. The disappearing pillar pushed the frost to reach further. It needled him beneath the nail, battling the words that had been whispered. It tingled him beneath the hairs, hiding the cruel truth from his sight.

Batman had stopped. He had frozen in time. His body felt as far away as Krypton's lost star. His mind had curled into itself in a last desperate attempt to ignore reality. Body moved around him, people spoke both his names, but they failed to reach him.

Mister Freeze spoke of the cold that inhabited him sometimes. He shared insight about his frozen heart, about his icy skin. He talked about the void in his heart, as his loved one remained cold and unresponsive. He preached long monologues about life at 0°C. 

A few months ago, it had seemed freezing to Batman. He had felt compassion for this lost soul, and offered him a second chance; one the villain had abused too many times. Now the water-freezing temperature seemed cool at most. Mister Freeze's loved one was frozen, but there was still a heartbeat beyond her slumber. She could be woken up, brought back to life. There was still hope for Mister Freeze’s void to be filled one day, when he freed her from Morphe’s glacial arms.

Bruce’s void would never be filled.

"Bruce." The burning touch was back on his shoulder. “Bruce, do you hear me?” It slightly pushed him. “You can’t stay here.”

Batman very much wanted to stay here. More people came back, their chatter lost to the deafening rush of a world shattering. It sounded like a mighty tree falling, taking half of the forest with it. Was that how Gepetto felt, when his son left to never return? Jason hated that story. He called Pinocchio an undeserving brat who didn’t know his luck, and Jiminy naive.

“We need to go back,” the annoying voice insisted, this time hauling him upward.

Superman’s nagging slowly mended the thread that connected Batman to reality. He blinked at the fresh night, wondering when the sun had fallen. Would it ever raise again? Of course it would. The world had always been cruel in its perpetual course, never bothering to stop for humans’ petty griefs.

“Bruce?” Now that Batman was awake, Superman was all over him, so close the kryptonian worried face almost touched his skin. The pity disgusted him. It woke the nausea in his body, made roar the fire of his chest. It widened the unnatural gap eating away at his inside. 

Batman pushed Superman away. “I’m fine.”’

He marched towards Jason’s body, barely able to look at it. It felt irreal still; an impossibility in probability’s gears. Carefully, he enveloped his son in his cape, masking away the too pale crimson tainted skin.

Jason was light, too light. Batman’s knees still threatened to buckle under his weight. Traitors. Failure. His staggering was stopped by all-too-familiar fingers.

"I’ve got you."

No you don’t, Bruce wanted to say. You’ll leave, too. 

Superman’s arms wrapped around him, careful to support Batman’s precious cargo. An instant later, they were airborne. Intellectually, Bruce knew Superman was flying. They were going closer to the sun, not away from it. 

In the night’s darkness however, there was no ray to shine on them. As ice ran freely in Bruce’s veins, as time came to a stop and death’s shadow spread over them, it was near impossible to differentiate his inner void from the sky emptiness. By all means, Superman was holding him. And yet…

Bruce was falling.

○ 🃟 •『S』𓋭 • • • ☗ 𓁿 𓅓 🦇 𓐟 🦇 𓅓 𓁿 𓅚 𓅨 ☤ 𓌹.𓌺 𓋭 • • • |

He was content.

|  • • • 𓋭 𓌹.𓌺 ☤ 𓅨 𓅚 𓁿 𓅓 🦇 𓐟 🦇 𓅓 𓁿 ☗ • • • 𓋭『S』• 🃟 ○

He was alone.

#whumptober 2023 #whumptober2023 #no.1 #day 1 #“But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps” #safety net #batman #bruce wayne #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfic #Sinvulkt fics #the bat dragon #dc #jason todd #red hood #angst

[whatisthismandoinghere]

Continuation of Hogan’s Heroes/The Office series

Season 1 episode 3 Kommandant of the Year

*Carter is snooping around outside and an angry Schultz brings him back to the barracks, heroes continue to snoop to see why there are so many guards around, unknown weapon is in the camp*

Schultz: Those jolly jokers! Carter could’ve been shot wandering around like that after roll call! They may cause me a lot of trouble, but I am rather fond of them, you know.  

Newkirk and Carter: Carter- I don’t see why we can’t just have the Allies come and drop a few bombs on it, easy peasy. Newkirk- *sighs and shakes his head, gets up and leaves room* Carter- What? Was it something I said?

*Major Houser is in charge of the new project, talks to Klink about it, heroes learn it’s a rocket*

Houser: *mimicking Klink* “Keep in mind, it’s spelled with a K!” What does he think I am, a child? I may not just put him in my report at all.

Klink: It really is a great honor that General Burkhalter had them stop at my camp! He must know how seriously we take security here at Stalag 13. *cuts straight to Burkhalter* Burkhalter: I don’t know what he’s getting so puffed up about. It was literally just the closest camp on their way to the new launchpad.

Hogan: A rocket? This is gonna be fun. Sure they’re here because the Allies won’t bomb a POW camp, but what they don’t know is that we will bomb a POW camp. *evil grin*

LeBeau: Everybody wants coffee and then they complain when I make it in the coffee pot because “they can’t hear what’s going on.” *scoffs and continues to angrily mutter in French*

Kinch: He’s complaining about the coffee pot again, isn’t he? *camera nods up and down* Figures.

*Kinch and Hogan make radio contact with the sub, request permission to blow up the rocket, permission denied*

Hogan: All I want is to simply blow up the rocket. Is that too much to ask? *Cameraman: Well, yes it would appear so.* Who asked you?

Kinch: Can we use something else for code names besides fairy tales?? I mean come on, it’s kinda ridiculous at this point.

*Heroes are supposed to pick up four men and bring them into camp to take care of rocket, Kinch gives Hogan idea to give Klink a “Kommandant of the Year” award*

Kinch: I hate when I unintentionally give Hogan ideas like that. Where does he come up with this stuff??

Hogan: What can I say? It just comes naturally to me.

Carter: I know we need to make the medal and the scroll, but I was really enjoying those grenade paper weights. You know, 1 out of every 3 was live. *sighs* *Cameraman: You know there’s more to life than explosives* How dare you!

Newkirk and LeBeau: Newkirk- You know, when Colonel Hogan suggested we give Klink something, I liked your idea a lot better, Louis. LeBeau- Yeah, a broken leg is much more appropriate than a medal. *Cameraman: You guys are so violent!*

*Hogan goes to Klink’s office and complains of the explosives, Klink gets the letter that he has been named Kommandant of the Year, Hogan convinces Klink to give a speech*

Schultz: Colonel Klink asks me who’s running this camp and expects me to answer with him? Who is he kidding?? We all know Colonel Hogan runs this camp. 

Hogan: Yeah, we all know I run this camp. Don’t tell Klink that though, it would just crush him.

Klink: You see, there has never been an escape from Stalag 13, and I am finally getting recognized. I wasn’t going to give a speech, but Hogan insisted. *Cameraman: So what did happen with the Munich police?* That is none of your concern!!!

*LeBeau goes out to meet the four men, has a little trouble, Carter reports escaped prisoner to Schultz, dogs are sent out and LeBeau uses dogs to meet his contacts*

LeBeau: Big Bad Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood? Kinch is right, what kind of names are these? *Cameraman: How do you get the dogs to listen so well?* Simple, I’m not German.

Dr. Schneider (one of the four men): This is one of the strangest operations I’ve ever seen? Are these little interviews normal?? *camera nods up and down*

*Dr. Schneider and his men arrive at camp, Klink is given his award and he gives his speech, Schneider and heroes take care of rocket*

Dr Schneider: I almost got blown up with that rocket! I’m never doing this again!! *leaves in a rush*

Hauser: *covered in smoke and clothes are torn* I don’t understand. I pressed the firing mechanism and it fired. It wasn’t supposed to do that!

Klink: Everything was going so well, and then that Hauser had to fire his stupid rocket. And now my medal is missing! *Hogan pops his head in: I told you we’d make you a new one!* Get out Hogan!!

Schultz: Did I see Hogan go over to the rocket? Absolutely not! I SEE NOTHING!

Newkirk, LeBeau, Carter, and Kinch: Newkirk- One can only do so much fake cheering and laughing. *others mumble in agreement*

*Klink is worried about the rocket going off, ended up destroying an airfield in Hamburg*

Klink: Great, now Berlin is involved. How am I going to explain this?? Really this is Hauser’s problem. *Hogan interrupts again: I told you to tell them Hauser got loaded and got trigger happy* Stop interrupting my screen time Hogan!

Hogan: I literally gave him a way out of this situation and what does he do? He ignores me. Figures, no wonder I run this camp. *Klink in the background: I heard that Hogan!*

#hogan's heroes #the office #colonel hogan #peter newkirk #andrew carter #james kinchloe #louis lebeau #colonel klink #sergeant schultz

[isfjmel-phleg]

Villain asks for Talfrin: Joker, Hans, Thanos, Mor'du

JOKER: Who are they behind the flair? Just Some Guy?

Under the persona, he's a restless, bitter, unsatisfied man with no truly meaningful relationships, trying to make up for what he feels the world has deprived him of. Pathetic, in a way.

HANS: What drives them to make their immoral decisions?

As previously stated, he feels that the world has deprived him of what's owed to him, and he's not going to accept that anymore. Nothing personal, he's just claiming his right, and he wouldn't have to do it in questionable ways if other people weren't so troublesome.

For instance, he had/has a difficult relationship with his mother. Because of this, there's something in him that craves female attention but also feels that women can't be trusted. So before his marriage, he has a long series of passionate but short-lived flings. They can't hurt him if he doesn't commit, if he's not around long enough to give them a chance to have that kind of power. He fixates on Bethira as The One Good One who can fix him, but when he gets her, he finds that this isn't the case (you can't fix someone who isn't willing to put in the work on their own account--and he certainly isn't going to bother) and that she doesn't have any feelings for him. Not even respect, after a while. So for him, this confirms his view of women as untrustworthy, which allows him to easily build up Bethira's faults in his mind until she's a sort of hostile, hateful monster out to humiliate him. And because he's so ill-treated, why should he not turn to someone who could properly appreciate him instead? And another when that doesn't work out...and another... He has no choice! He needs love, and he'll get it.

Or, more succinctly, he's a selfish jerk, but the above is his rationale.

THANOS: Do they believe their methods are noble or heroic?

He tends not to see things so much in terms of nobility or heroism as what is necessary or effective. He might concede that what he's done isn't strictly above-board, but what choice did he have? And besides, it worked! What was he supposed to do?

MOR'DU: How are they different from the hero/How are they similar?

That depends on whom we're considering as the hero here. For purposes of argument, I'll look at the protagonists he has significant encounters with.

Talfrin and Rietta share a boundless energy, a love of life, and a sense of impatience and deprivation. They both love people, have a flair for the dramatic, and have big personalities. But she has a moral sense that he doesn't. She has very definite boundaries that she won't cross, and she's much more honest and straightforward. She has the capacity to care about people on their own terms, not just as tools. Her reign is more likely to succeed, unlike his, because she is a fundamentally decent person.

Talfrin and Delclis couldn't be more different. Talfrin is bold and boisterous and active; Delclis is withdrawn and quiet and cerebral. They share a love of the outdoors (albeit for different reasons). But there's an area in which they're similar. They're both self-absorbed. Delclis, nice, sweet, mild-mannered child though he is, has to put effort into giving a darn about other people. There's inherently nothing wrong about his tendency to withdraw, but he's been allowed to take it to such an extreme that he's more concerned with his own comfort and welfare than what's best for other people, and this could become a problem in someone suddenly put in charge of a whole country.

Elystan, despite his closer physical resemblance to his mother, is very much his father's son. He has the same outgoing nature, affable manner (when he chooses), and enthusiasm for life. The same selfish and entitled outlook, skill in manipulation, and capacity for pettiness and spite. But circumstances and personality have given him differences. Ill health has made him much less active and energetic than his father. He's more cerebral, more imaginative and fanciful and impractical. More naive. Less forceful. And maybe...just maybe...there's a capacity for growth in him that Talfrin never has.

Talfrin and Amarantha have wildly differing natures just as he and Delclis do. She's quiet and thoughtful and in her head and very judgmental (which Talfrin tends not to be--do what you must, as long you don't get in his way). But they are both so bitter and resentful. They both have been deprived of closeness to the mothers they needed--which is much more of an immediate concern for Amarantha, of course. But this similar feeling...it's useful. It can be exploited. It can lead to some really bad decisions.

#asks #fictionadventurer #thank you! #The Blackberry Bushes #The Blackberry Bushes Q&A #Talfrin Liddick #Bethira Liddick #Rietta Valencourt #Delclis Phemister #Elystan Liddick #Amarantha Melbray

[niennandil-me-writes]

ace up their sleeve

CN: alcohol, gambling

[a small part of the backstory of one of my new dnd characters]

"I've been in chains since I was nothing but a kid We don't know freedom, not quite sure that we ever did Now that we have it, how will we make use of it? We've been committed now to what do we all commit? I used to have a home, now I don't even have a name"

Emilie Autumn - One Foot in Front of the Other

You didn’t just ask questions in the Feywild. That was one of the first things they had learned. Don’t ask open questions, don’t ask anything at all if you can help it. Don’t give anyone an easy way to impose their reality on yours. And so they hadn’t asked what kind of food or drink this tavern served, or what was charged for it, just ordered and said with conviction that they would pay later. The waiter – a person who was either a humanoid with a donkey head or a donkey walking on two legs – had scoffed, looking them up and down, but he had brought them a mug of ale and a bowl of something that might have passed for stew if it hadn’t been way too bright red in hue. While they hungrily shoveled the sludge into their mouth, they scanned the tavern. It did good to be alert in these parts.

There was a group of grung sitting at the bar counter, drinking a golden beverage through curving and looping straws. At the other end of the tavern, there was a satyr smoking from a pipe which he now and then offered to the guests sitting close by, filling their entire half of the room with rainbow-colored clouds that smelled of dried-up autumn. A shadow creature with a grin filled with sharp teeth was dodging between the patrons, balancing a cup of steaming hot chocolate with rainbow sprinkles and a plate of pancakes covered in molasses towards a table where a seemingly human girl was waiting for her meal. On the other end of the room, a heated card game was taking place, participants heaping little treasures on the table as bets.

“What’s this, then?” a hairless Tabaxi asked, holding up a fist-sized object that someone else just put down. “Broken watch?”

“A compass.”

“Broken compass, then,” the Tabaxi said. “I’m piss drunk, but I know where north is.”

“Points to your responsibilities,” the owner explained.

“That’s why it’s pointing to the bar,” the donkey-waiter said while passing by. “Pay your tabs, Kitty.”

They listened up at that. Leaving their half-eaten meal behind for whatever thief or pixie to find, they walked over to the table. “You got room for one more.” Keep your voice up, make it an assumption, not a question.

Raised glances pointed at them, annoyed at the intruder, but curious, too.

“Are you even old enough for gambling, child?” the Tabaxi asked. An indignant question – presuming them both a child and someone who stuck to human rules – but an opening as well.

“Sure I am,” they said, keeping their voice steady, asserting their own reality. They belonged here.

“Take a seat, kid.” The dealer – why was there a dealer here in this sleazy tavern, acting like it was a casino? – was the only one in the group who seemed relaxed, but the others seemed to take over his attitude now, making room for the new player.

“You know how to play, I assume,” the dealer said. He wasn’t as strange as some other patrons of the tavern, but even so, they had never dealt with a talking skeleton before. Walking? Yes. Fighting? Yes. Fully capable of killing them? Sometimes. But they had never met one you could have a conversation with.

“Sure I do,” they said, trying to keep their confidence, even though the only time they had played cards was with their sibling in the garden over biscuits and tea, and they doubted this was that kind of game.

“Simple, really,” the skeleton said. “You gotta place a bet for every card you get, maximum of five. At the end – no matter if you folded – you add the numbers on the cards, highest amount wins. Joker’s as big as the highest value but a null on its own, if you get a reverse card, keep it, that’s not supposed to be in there. Also, the cards are marked and counted” – he ran his bone fingers through the deck, dropping cards on the floor – “108 to be exact, and the tables are numbered as well, but there’s a reason for that. Any questions?”

They shook their head.

“Good, then you already know how to play.” He winked, in a way a skeleton shouldn’t be able to.

“What’re you placing?” a pale person with too many eyes asked.

The counterquestion was burning on their tongue. They didn’t want to bet too much, but betting too little would get them laughed at, or worse: sent away.

“Don’t ask questions if the answer is important.” That’s what the tall lady with the cloak of book pages had said. “Reality is malleable where you are going. Keep your reality for yourself.”

But the other person had asked. And now they got to decide what an appropriate answer was. They looked at the treasures and trash already spread across the table – bundles of herbs, blood red chalk, a gemstone that held a living flame – and then took the piece of ivory that was meant to pay for their food from their pocket. “Unicorn,” they said by way of explanation.

There were some raised eyebrows, but the company seemed to accept, and the skeleton dealt them a card. Nine. That didn’t seem bad. The drawing on the card depicted an elf sleeping on the bank of a river.

Everyone having one card, the company continued betting. The creature with too many eyes set two of them to the table and received a card in return. A white Harengan, seeming nervous, announced he needed to go, leaving his bet on the table. A Drow emanating a smell of fish protruded a magnifying glass from her robes, which only enlarged important things while trivia or falsehoods appeared smaller through it. A small fairy offered a thimble filled with a red liquid he swore was an extremely potent healing potion. A bloated creature with the head of a shark set down the pedigree papers of the horned dog resting at his feet (after some questions he clarified that he was betting the papers, not the dog, who seemed unimpressed). The Tabaxi threw in a necklace of teeth. A seemingly human man in a hunter’s cloak set down a glass vial filled with a black oily liquid. The person in the black hood who had bet the compass placed a comb made from mother of pearl on the table. The remaining two players folded as well.

It was their turn now. While watching, they had considered what else they could bet. It was not like they had much on them. Finally, they took the cold iron knife from their belt, and half the company flinched away. An invaluable weapon in these parts, and if they met the person in the black hood alone in the woods, they could just take the compass from them at knife-point. Like this, surrounded by dozens of witnesses, only half of whom had faerie blood in them, all it was good for was trading it for another card. A six. Well, that just seemed a mockery. This card had an entirely different design than the one they already held, the number represented by six yellow and red bells rather than in writing.

Around the table the bets went again: More eyes, a flute made of a crab leg, a diamond the size of speck of dust, a bundle of catnip, a red piece of string which (the man in the hood said) had once connected lovers, and some more folds. They couldn’t even judge the value of most of the items, but there seemed to be some rhyme to it, judging by the hums of approval and disapproval, and the way some of them bit their lips as they rummaged through their bags and cloak pockets. The bets seemed much more important than the cards, which were regarded only briefly. Another player joined them as well, a lanky creature trading a vial of werewolf blood for two cards.

Their turn again. They took the necklace of talismans and warding charms from around their neck. Most scoffed at that, but the lanky creature seemed interested, though her pitch-black eyes were directed at them, not the necklace. The card they received was an eight. They tried to keep the smile off their face.

And on it went, more bets being placed, more folds. And their turn again. They took the woven bracelet off their wrist.

“We’re past the decorations,” the Tabaxi said.

“A hag made it for me,” they explained. “A charm. Spun by the cursed.”

“Listen, kid, I didn’t just set a bag with my own balls in it on the table for you to bet a piece of cloth.”

They opened their mouth, and then closed it again.

“If you don’t have anything else of fair value, just fold,” the fairy said.

They couldn’t leave now. Not with all their treasures set on the table. Their heart beat in their chest up to their neck, like it wanted to jump out. And it knocked against the hard flat object they kept under their shirt.

“What can I do?” they had asked the lady in the cloak of paper pages, after she had told them who had taken away their twin and where they went.

The lady, who called herself the Librarian, had explained to them the ins and outs of the Feywild then. How in some places the inhabitants couldn’t tell lies, and in others they told only lies but coated in sugar. That there were no maps of the place, and never a sure way of knowing where you were going. She had spoken warnings to them, and encouragement.

And still they had begged for one more thing. Something to trade in, something to offer the Archfey who had stolen their twin away, to pay for their return.

She had looked so sad then. “I can give you one thing. But I might ask for something in return someday. I’m a librarian, not a giver of gifts, and my books are only lent, not given away.” She had led them to a part of their parents’ library they had never seen, then, and taken out a book from its shelves. “Don’t look into it, don’t try to read it”, she had said. “But this should be worth one soul at least. Though I cannot promise she will take up the offer.”

They needed this book. They needed it to trade. But how would they ever get a chance to trade it if they never found their twin or the person who had taken them? And they were at twenty-three. They could win this. All of it. The compass and everything they had bet and all the other things on the table which could buy them food and better clothes and maybe a comfortable room at the tavern for a night.

They slid their hands under their shirt and took the bag that was strapped around their chest, taking out the book and placing it on the table. The Tabaxi scoffed again, but the rest of their party seemed content, and the Drow leaned forward. Her heart seemed to be beating faster as well, or at least there was something squirming under her robes. The skeleton handed out the card. Five. Not bad, but not good either.

So it went. After this round, there were only four more players left taking new cards: Themself, the creature that had started with too many eyes and now had too little, the Tabaxi and the Drow.

Their turn. They looked around. A lot of people who had folded were chewing their lips, while others seemed confident in the cards they had. The Tabaxi was too drunk to make good decisions, that much was clear. Twenty-eight wasn’t enough to win, they knew that. But what else did they have to bet?

“I can bet a memory,” they said. They had already sold some of those, and every time they had promised themself it would be the last time. But this was how things stood.

Their offer elicited laughter around the table.

“Don’t you think the people here already have memories enough that they want to be rid of?” the hunter asked with raspy voice.

“I have good memories.” They knew there was too much doubt in their voice to sell it.

“What else you got?” the Tabaxi asked.

They remembered the bakery they had slipped into a few days ago, just to warm themself from the freezing wind creeping under their cloak, finding themself staring at giant loaves of bread, still steaming from the oven heat, cakes decorated with cream and fruit or dripping with honey, biscuits in all colours of the rainbow and then some more. The smell alone was enough to make their mouth water. The woman with the cotton candy hair and an apron woven from mist had smiled at them, a warm smile, and asked them if they’d like to have anything. With trembling voice they had offered to pay with pixie dust, all they had on them at that point. Still smiling, the baker had shaken her head but then offered them to let them have anything in the bakery if they gave her but one thing. Back then, they had reacted in panic, shaken their head and left the house, running away as fast as they could.

Now they said: “My name.”

Stupid.

“I can bet my name.”

Stupid stupid.

At least it made the people around the table shut up. The creature with no eyes tilted its head. The Drow’s lips curled into a smile. The Tabaxi seemed very nervous all of a sudden. The person who had bet the compass leaned forward again. Their features were still unfathomable under the hood, but two blue gleaming dots appeared that might have been eyes. Other people from around the tavern were drawn close now.

It was the skeleton that broke the silence. “Sure you wanna do that, kid? You know what power a name has?”

“I’m not a kid,” they said. “And I know what I’m doing.” They hoped they sounded more confident than they felt. “My name as my last bet for the fifth card. Whoever wins gets to keep it.”

“Is not a nickname, right?” the Tabaxi asked, still nervous but also suspicious. “Like, none of those wrong names business.”

“My given name,” they said.

“Damn, kid,” the Tabaxi said. “You’re not joking around, are ya?”

They didn’t know what they had imagined trading away your name would look like, but what they hadn’t expected was a skeleton handing them a little piece of ripped off paper and a chewed-on pen. They wrote the name down between smudged notes and then placed the strip of paper on the table among all the other treasures.

The skeleton dealt them another card. They picked it up but didn’t dare look at it yet.

This being the last round, everyone around the table set down their cards, announcing their score by the order that they had received their last card. The ones who had folded early barely had anything over a twenty. Only the fairy held a twenty-nine in their three cards. Then the final five:

“Thirty-four,” said the hooded person.

“Thirty,” said the eyeless creature.

“Eight,” scoffed the Tabaxi and then called to the waiter for more ale and a bundle of new catnip he couldn’t pay for.

“Thirty-two,” said the Drow, looking in disappointment at the book.

And now, they had to turn the card around. They stared at the number in disbelief.

“Well,” the skeleton said.

“Twenty.” Their voice was toneless. They rubbed their thumb over the card, like that would make the little minus symbol next to the eight disappear. From the corner of the card, a kobold was laughing at them.

The person in the black hood nodded in approval. “I win.” They started collecting their prize, letting the objects disappear in the folds of their cloak one by one. The other patrons gradually left the table, disappointed, ruined, or glad they had stopped betting early. The skeleton collected the cards. The hooded person put the slip of paper carrying the name into a little pocket at their chest. Then they reached for the compass.

“Wait!” the nameless called out.

The winner tilted their head in question. Their eyes were still burning blue. The skeleton looked up from the cards he was shuffling.

“One last game,” the nameless demanded.

The hooded person looked at them. “You don’t have anything left to bet.”

They knew their next words were a mistake. “Your compass against my True Name.”

It was like all sounds in the room were suddenly stopped, the talk, the laughter, the moving of chairs, even the noises from the kitchen were gone. Then the skeleton continued shuffling the cards.

“Do you know what you are doing, kid?” he asked.

They nodded. “Yes.” If their voice was confident enough, they could make it true.

“Do you know your True Name, child?” the person in the hood asked.

“No,” they said. “But that makes it even more valuable, doesn’t it?”

The talk had seemingly broken the spell because all of a sudden the noise returned, dozens of people talking to them all at once, concerned voices begging them to reconsider, others advising them to play for more, someone whispering in their back why they would bet on it if they could trade it and that they would pay them greatly for their True Name. The nameless shut all the voices out and stared into the darkness beneath the hood.

“I’m not a cheat,” the hooded person said then. “I’m betting a fair value for that.” They removed all their little prizes from their cloak again and placed them on the table. All except for the piece of paper, the nameless noticed, but they didn’t bring it up. Their eyes were fixed on the compass, as they said: “Winner takes all, then. One card.”

The gleaming blue eyes disappeared as the other lowered their head in a nod. The skeleton placed one card in front of each of them. The nameless picked it up with both hands, trying to keep them from trembling. Slowly, they lifted it up and looked it in the face. They could feel the colour draining from their cheeks, cold washing through their body originating from the lump of ice that must have formed in their stomach and reached all the way to the tips of their fingers A singular spade stared at them.

Their opponent placed their card on the table. “Well, child, can you beat that?”

They didn’t have to look at it. They knew the result.

“I win,” they announced and played their ace.

There was a hum going through the watching crowd. Doubt was running high in the tavern. Good.

“7 beats 1,” the person in the black hood said. An assertion, not a question this time. They had realized their mistake.

“The ace is the highest card in the suit,” the nameless one said. “Every child knows that. After all, everyone knows the saying of having an ace up your sleeve. Nobody would cheat using the lowest card.” They picked their words carefully, cautious to not let even a rhetorical question slip in there.

The doubt turned to agreement. It made sense. Sayings were worth their weight in gold in these parts.

“Ace beats 7,” they said, putting as much conviction as they could muster into their voice. “I win.”

“Congrats, kid,” the skeleton said, and that was when they finally allowed themself to sigh in relief. The other patrons cheered for them, the Tabaxi slapped their shoulder by way of congratulations, the Drow offered to buy them a drink, and their opponent glared at them from beneath the hood, their eyes flaring violet now and illuminating their face, sharp and hateful features with bone growths puncturing their skin.

The nameless took the compass first and put it safely in an inner pocket of their cloak. Then they quickly grabbed whatever else was useful: the knife, a stronger talisman and some of the smaller treasures they could trade for food. They were reaching for the book when the hooded person demanded in a voice that was no longer calm: “Well, a graceful winner as you are will surely allow me to win back my losses, as I did for you.”

“No,” they said. And then, louder: “Drinks are on me. Just tell the kind person in the hood what you’d like.”

Immediately, the crowd moved in on the person in the hood, yelling for ale and beer and hot chocolate, and the nameless person dodged between them. From the corner of their eye, they saw a tentacle sticking out from the Drow’s chest grab the book and disappear it in her robes while she feigned interest at the shark-headed creatures’ talk about his dog. The nameless decided to accept their loss rather than risk further complications and snuck out of the tavern room and into the gloomy twilight of the woods. When they had brought some distance between themself and the tavern, they halted and took out the compass. The needle was pointing deeper into the woods and they turned to follow it, nameless now, but a whole lot less lost.

#my writing #oc writing #ash (like from fire) #if you spot all the references in this i'll write something about their twin