What if danny was jokers son

So when joker was turning he had an infant son, a cute little boy he named danny.

But he knew it wouldnt last, his son had his DNA and would eventually become similar to him, he can already tell, he laughs at things he shouldnt and is more observing than he should be.

Joker, in his twisted way, still loves his son, and while he could tell danny will be similar to him he wont BE him, he'll be...more human than him.

So his final act to save danny from this life, he sent danny to his colleague friends to look after.

After the joker full took over, his twisted love for his son still remained, much to his conflicting enotions, and he decided to stay as far as he could.

Danny on the other hand grew up different he didnt exactly LIKE pain, so to say, but their was always something satisfying and delightful when someone got what they had coming to them.

When a bullie mysteriously fell down the stairs he couldnt hold in his laughter. The kind of karma they deserved.

He still loved though, in an innocent way.

Loved when his mom made inventions with him, or taught him her black belt moves.

Loved when he and his dad try and make fudge together but their shared clumsiness resulted in far more mess that it should.

Loved when jazz read her books to him. Loved when tucker would act all protective about his PDA and when sam dragged them all to a new protest.

That didnt stop him though, from blasting overgrowth to bits for hurting sam. From secretly hunting and threatening johnny after he messed with jazz, or from making a dash and paulinas day worse with his powers.

And it certainly didn't stop his uncontrolled laughing to ring through the ghost zone when he beat pharia dark black and green.

.

.

.

And when a certain bat came by for a visit in arkam,after the jason incident and talking about his robins and saying that he wouldnt understand the love he has for him. For his son's.

What drove batman on a new case was the quiet and serious way joker said the he did understand.

Batman had a new case to solve. To see if someone as heartless as the joker dose, in fact, have a child.

Rating superhero/villain dynamics on how gay they are

Batman/Joker:

do i even have to say it. Usually they have a pretty one sided thing with Joker being high-key obsessed with him but Batman has no interest in that at all. Way overhyped imo. bonus points for the Lego Batman Movie 7/10

Superman/Lex Luthor

despite many factors and the fact they have a son together, there’s not a lot of tension. Plus Lex gives major homophobic vibes, (he’d make pride lexcorp merch while backing don’t say gay bills)

2/10 for kon

Green Lantern(Hal Jordan)/Sinestro

oh my god. They have the whole friends to enemies thing that you could swap for lovers to enemies so easily. The worst exes you’ve ever seen. I think they’re actually a couple in some comics (prolly an AU). That one episode of DC Super Hero Girls (the new one) where Hal fights both Sinestro and Carol and they’re said to be on the same level. good shit

10/10

Wonder Woman/Cheetah

it depends on the comic. Sometimes they’re very flirty and suggestive and other times they’re tearing each other’s clothes off bc the male author thought it’d be hot. I think that goes for a lot of woman/woman dynamics in comics tho. I honestly don’t get sometimes why they’re fighting bc they seem to have a lot in common.

6/10 they should just date

Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson

Jesus Christ guys wtf are y’all doing. They have the funniest dynamic in all of DC comics. Old ass ‘nam vet picks fight with 15 year old who he blames his son’s death on. While I adore the 2003 teen titans show, they got the dynamic so wrong. Their dynamic only becomes homoerotic once Dick is an adult. They have profound respect for each other but they also fucking hate each other. They’re enemies, they’re friends, they’re co-parents, they’re the least mentally stable people you’ve even seen.

20/10 unparalleled

I commented this and realized you said to put it in the ask box😭 I feel like "animal I have become" by three days grace fits jason for the lyrical prompt list

Jason Todd x Reader

"Animal I Have Become"

You stared at your old vigilante suit. Ever since the Joker killed Jason, putting on the suit always made you want to throw up.

It wasn't just because you two were dating, but the two of you made the perfect duo while crime fighting. He was always so determined to kick ass head first while you were there to hold him back and let him think before making any sudden actions.

You were the first one to find Jason's body. His face was disfigured, and his suit was drenched in his blood. And soon after, it was your suit drenched in his blood.

When Bruce arrived at the warehouse, he saw you there from a distance, wailing and screaming while cradling Jason's limp body.

"Why.. Why is there so much blood, Bruce? He's not waking up... Bruce, he's not waking up!" You cried at Bruce, and all he could do was stand there. "Bruce, please! We need to get him home! He-" You hiccup. "He has training tomorrow... And.. And he said he'd teach me how to ride his motorbike.. Bruce, c'mon, we need to bring him home..." It pains Bruce to see you this way. You were in denial. You believed Jason was still alive.

It took many attempts, so much repetition of Bruce telling you Jason is dead, and he's not coming back. You punched Bruce in the chest so many times. You kept telling him it wasn't funny or that Jason is alive and that he is coming home.

But your adrenaline slowly died down. You became too tired. So when you got back to the manor, you left yourself to rot away in Jason's room. You instantly ripped the suit off. It was making you sick. You replaced it with Jason's red hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. You buried yourself in Jason's sheets on his bed, holding his scented pillow impossibly closer to you.

When Alfred heard the news, he couldn't believe it either. He didn't want to admit it, but Jason was his favourite batboy, even though he told the two sons many times he doesn't have favourites. But having shared a birthday with Jason, teaching him how to cook and introducing Jason to the world of literature, his death took a hard toll on him.

But Alfred is selfless. He sucks it up and heads towards Jason's room. He knows that you're grieving, too. He knows how much you loved him. So, he knocks before entering. And his heart breaks when he sees you in a foetal position in Jason's bed.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n," he quietly says. "If you ever need someone to grieve to, I hope that you'll know that I can be of any assistance," he offered before bending down to grab you blood stained suit and was about to walk out beford you spoke up.

"What about you, Alfie?" Alfred turns back around.

"I'm not quite sure I understand what you-"

"You loved Jason too. What if you need someone to grieve to?" You sniffle as you sat up, looking at Alfred with concerned eyes.

He sighs. "I assure you, Y/n, I'm fine."

You scoffed and got out of bed, walked towards Alfred and took your suit out of his hands, and tossed it to the floor. Alfred eyes widened when you wrapped your arms around his torso, bringing him into a soft hug.

"No. You're not. Not now, at least. You do so much for us, Alfie. Being here for you is the least I can do," you mutter. And this is where Alfred breaks. You hear a light sniffle from him, and you don't notice it, but a single tear escapes from Alfred's eyes. You're right. He's not fine. But he knows he will be. And hopefully, you'd be fine soon, too.

So, after your lover's death, you gave up your mask. You hung up the vigilante life and told Bruce and Alfred that you'd be staying away from Wayne Manor for a while, in which they understood, and wished you luck on the mundane life you are trudging towards.

You were able to live a stable life, got a job, and rented an apartment. You didn't go looking for another relationship because you were devoted to Jason. You knew you'd find love again at some point, but for some reason, your love for Jason still burns so lively.

Bruce called every now and then, but it was only for asking you to come back fod a quick mission, which made your eyes roll.

Luckily, Alfred always called you, checking up, seeing if you need any help with anything or if you need someone to talk to. You appreciated his concerns but politely declined, saying that if you need anything, he's the first person you'd call.

Lately, you heard there's a new crime lord going around. According to Dick, he's only targeting high-grade criminals and other villains. Since he's technically saving civilians by sweeping the streets of Gotham from any harm, you'd assume he wouldn't be a top priority to Batman. You were wrong.

Because of Bruce's strong morals of no playing jury, judge, or executioner, this new criminal going by the name of Red Hood is now on Batman's radar. And Bruce is not happy.

You didn't really care, though. If Red Hood wasn't hurting any innocents, then you can still sleep peacefully. Speaking of, you have seen a glimpse of the crime lord here and there, lurking around your neighbourhood. Which was weird since not much crime happened around your parts anyway. Maybe he was just patrolling?

You were coming home late at night, and you were on a phone call with Bruce. Like always, he called to ask if you were able to swing by and help with this Red Hood case.

"Bruce, I told you already. Unless this Red Hood guy is Joker level dangerous, I'm not coming back. Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I know he's breaking morals. Your morals, but it's not like he's- No, I know! But- ugh whatever. Yeah, see ya," you scoffed. Bruce was always so stubborn and refused to listen to anyone you went against his morals.

"Morals, schmorals," you mutter to yourself, stuffing your phone back into your bag. As you see your apartment complex from the horizon, you try to fish out your keys located at the bottom of your bag.

"Hey there, S/n," you heard a gruff voice. You swiftly turned around and saw some big, bulky men behind you.

"I'm sorry, who?" You try play dumb. But the man just scoffed.

"We're not stupid, sugar. We know you work with Batman. Well. Used to," he spit while the others started laughing. "Y'know. You put our boss in an impossible situation. Burning up his lounge, taking his money. So we're here to avenge all that. You know... an eye for an eye..." he says ominously.

You roll your eyes and drop your bag and crack your knuckles, shifting to a fighting stance. "And who's your boss exactly?"

"Penguin." He states, lunging towards you.

You effortlessly dodged his attack, and you were able to fight for yourself well, but you being outnumbered, you quickly grew tired. Little did you know, a certain anti-hero was perched on a roof, smirking under his mask.

"Haven't lost your touch," he mutters to himself. He saw that you were growing tired. What kind of gentleman would he be if he didn't swoop down and help.

Just as one of Penguin's goons pulled out a pistol, a bullet was shot in between his eyes. You yelped, turning to see the imfamous Red Hood behind him as the man dropped dead.

"Penguin accusing civilians now? Pathetic," the masked man spits as he shot two more of the men.

As the others were distracted by the falling bodies, Red Hood swiftly made his way to you, grappling the two of you into a nearby alley.

"What the fuck, I had that!" You yelled at him. You couldn't see it, but Red Hood was smiling under his mask. You always were so determined to take a bunch of bad guys by yourself.

"I know you did. But asking for help isn't always a bad thing, darling," he says quietly before going back out there to fight them.

What the fuck? Wait. Darling? No one has called you that since...

You peek out of the alley to see Red Hood making nk effort into taking each of the men down. He was definitely skilled and had been trained before. Bjt his stances, his fightinf methods. Why are they so familiar?

This is so stupid. Are you actually thinking that Red Hood might be Jason? No, it couldn't. Because even if it were, even for the slim, crazy possibility that Jason came back from the dead, he would've gone straight to you. He would've come find you.

Right?

When you looked out once more, all men were lying on the ground. You couldn't tell if they were dead or just knocked out.

And you stepped out.

"Are they dead?" You ask.

"Most of them," he says nonchalantly. "But you should head home, Y/n," he starts mentally taking notes of to schedule a date to kill Penguin.

You shrugged and started walking towards your apartment again.

Wait. What the fuck did he say??

You swiftly turned around. "Are you stalking me??"

He laughed. "You never were the one to notice obvious information in the first try," he sighed, walking closer towards you.

"I wanted to tell you for so long, my love," he says, taking off his helmet. Even wearing the domino mask, you can make out who was standing in front of you.

You shook your head.

"No- no, no. I saw you- I was the first one to see you- You were dead! No, Jason Todd is dead!" You whined, taking a step back.

Jason winced. He never wanted you to be the one to find his dead body first.

"It's a long story. I was duf up, thrown into the Lazarus Pit and now we're here," he quickly sums up.

"How long have you been alive?"You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Couple years." He shamefully answers.

And you start to cry. "Years?? And- and you never came to see me? Why- Do you know how long I've cried for you?? Fuck- I still am!"

Jason sighs. "I know, I know, sweetheart. But you couldn't possibly think that I thought you wanted to see me. Not with how I'm like now. I'm a murder. I'm killing people, shit! I tried going after Batman." Your eyes widen. "I was just so pissed off. I thought that after I died because of the Joker, Batman would've finally put every victim out of their misery by putting down the Joker. But he didn't. The Joker amy be in Arkham, but sooner or later, he'll escape and go on another psycho spree. But until then, I'm getting rid of anyone else who has the potential of becoming kf what he is."

You didn't know what to say. You stood there, tears rolling down your face. "So, what? What about us? Do I just not matter to you anymore?"

Jason grabbed his hair in frustration. "Of course you matter to me! I still love you! But I'm not the same person you knew before, okay?"

Just as he finished his sentence, one of the knocked out goons tried getting up, pulling a gun from his jacket, pointing it at Jason. But Jason just rolls his eyes, shooting him in the head.

"See?"

Your breathing became heavy, and you started to become pissed off. "You know what, fuck you, Jason! Fuck you for leaving to go try kill the Joker without me. Fuck you for dying. Fuck you coming back to life. Fuck you for not seeing me. And fuck you for thinking that I could love you any less because you're trying to fix Gotham in a way that goes against Batman."

Jason stares at you in awe. He couldn't believe it. How could you possibly still love him? Afyer everything he's done. "But Batman-"

"Screw Batman, Jason! I haven't seen him since you died! I couldn't care less about his morals! I just want you back..." You say your last statement so quietly, only for Jason to hear.

"I don't think I come back. Bot to the Manor or Bruce that is..." Jason replies.

You look at him in confusion. "The fuck does that mean?"

"I know you see me around your streets. I want to come back.. to you," he shakes his head at the thought. "But it's too dangerous. I heard you gave up the mask. Now that you're living such a mundane life, I'm not putting you in danger."

"Jason, shut the fuck up and stop making these decisions for me,' you take his large hands in yours. "I want you to come back to me... Please.." Your hand reaches up to caress his cheek. "At least drop by every once in a while. We can't go back to what we used to have. Not immediately, at least. Please come back to me. I miss you.."

Jason sighs and shakes his head. "I'm... I'm not making any promises."

You look up at him with eyes full of hope. "So you will?"

"I just said no promises," he laughs. He missed looking into your eyes. He missed you. He places a quick, soft kiss to your forhead. "But you really need to get back home."

You sniffle and wipe a rogue tear off your face. You let go of him, walking away and waving back at him. "See you later!" You call out.

Jason shakes his head and waves back. "What part of 'no promises' do they not understand?" He mutters to himself.

It annoys him how much you know Jason because no matter how many times he tells you and himself, 'no promises,' he always comes through your fire escape window anyway.

And slowly, day by day, moment by moment, the two of you start to reconstruct your loving relationship.

You haven't told Bruce and Alfred, and you know Bruce will see red when he finds out Jason is alive and that you knew. And you know Alfred would be disappointed because of the close bond he had with Jason, but soon understand why you didn't tell him.

But right now, it didn't matter. Right now, Jason was in your arms, on your couch, watching Little Women on the TV. That's all that matters.

No matter how many times Jason would claim that he has changed, he hasn't to you. He'll always be your Jason Todd.

I've only listened to the song once or twice for when you requested it, so sorry if the fic doesn't really match up with the song!! I tried to make Jason seem more violent but I just didn't know how to put it in words, plus I wanted some fluff at the end 😭 Hope you enjoy though, thanks for the request!

DC Dimensions project plan: Batman (Vol. 1)

This series is not an assured project. It is a concept that can still be changed or scrapped.

Synopsis

For years, Batman has been the protector of Gotham City and has trained Robins and Batgirls. Now he has discovered that he has a son born to his old lover and enemy Talia al Ghul. An assassin is after the boy and will do anything to get him.

Characters

Bruce Wayne/Batman - Gotham City's vigilante for the past fifteen years. He is drawn into the war between Ra's al Ghul and Brutale to save his son Damian.

Damian Wayne - The illegitimate son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul. He was sent to Gotham City to protect him from Brutale. He is well trained in martial arts.

Tim Drake/Red Robin - The third Robin of the Bat family, preceded by Dick Grayson and Jason Todd. He is a genius designing gadgets.

Alfred Pennyworth - Butler of the Wayne family and father figure to Bruce Wayne.

Barbara Gordon/Oracle - A former Batgirl who was paralyzed from the waist down after being shot by The Joker.

James "Jim Gordon, Sr. - Commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department. He is the father of Barbara Gordon and a close ally of Batman.

Harvey Bullock - A captain of the Gotham City Police Department who is not afraid to bend the rules a bit. He is a long time friend of Commissioner Gordon and ally of Batman.

Guillermo Barrera/Brutale - The descendant of a long line of assassins that have been slaying the bloodline of Ra's al Ghul. He has been hunting Damian Wayne and his mother for years, besting any guard that gets in his way. He has been trained to power through any pain and has survived multiple gunshot wounds.

Jervis Tetch/Mad Hatter - A villain of a small stature and a love of "Alice in Wonderland." He is a long time enemy of Batman. When Brutale found out Damian was being sent to Gotham City, he paid Jervis to leave the dark knight a message.

Other Information

Brutale was picked as the villain because I figured that if Batman had to face a foe that was a mystery to him then it would have to be outside his rogues gallery. Bruce has been Batman for nearly twenty years, so I believe he has faced all the normal villains we are all familiar with.

Brutale's extreme durability was inspired by the film "V for Vendetta." There was a scene where V was riddled with bullets but then killed everyone in the room.

https://www.tumblr.com/not-goldy/734501478401802240/httpswwwtumblrcomsizzlingpatrolfox7344597423?source=share

Idk how you think about him that's why I said most jkkrs.

If you check other blogs you can see them going : Jimin is staying back because he want to support JK's debut. While JK is not enlisting because obviously he's young and he's on his way to become a pop star. As if the only reason jimin still active is to support JK. They act like Jimin is not a prominent artists himself. Like stop protecting your housewife image onto him.

We can always see some jkkrs going "I wonder whether Jimin will travel to support JK" whenever some overseas show is announced. Like what ? Is Jimin some cheergirl of JK ? If he travel, good for them. But stop always expecting him to shows next level support when JK didn't even attended one performance of him in korea. All he did was sat at his house and watched some JM contents and it's biggest support in their eyes.

See Jimin do support JK but that's not his whole personality. He's staying back because he's a very in demand solo artist. He's staying back to make music, dance and release stuffs for fans. He's staying because he want to spent more time with his friends and family. He's staying back because he's only 28. Along with all these.. he also support JK. JK's album is NOT the sole reason for Jimin not enlisting 🚶‍♀️

JK is not Jimin's everything but just a part of him. Some jkkrs make it seems like Jimin is just JK's partner. Nope..he has a huge career, a big star himself, he have his own commitments, he have his family and friends.

He's staying to support JK's career???

And what of his own career???

Which Joker said that??????

A grown ass adult made those statements about Jikook- Jimin???? Wow.

Personally I have not come across any Jikooker make such statements. If I I I will clown them hard😭💀

"Is Jimin some cheer girl of JK" did you just ask that?

Ooohhhh kay you are equally as flawed honey💀💀💀

I think you and those delulu jokers sit on the extreme ends of the same table.

Like I agree with everything you've said, Jimin does not exist to be a side character in JK's story, he is himself A MAIN CHARACTER, A FULL MAN IN HIS OWN RIGHT WITH HIS OWN UNIQUE LIFE PATH, GOALS AND ASPIRATIONS.

But he's not all about work work work work.

He's a human being with people he loves and those who love him. He is a brother, a son, a friend and a lover to others as well.

He is kind supportive and generous by his nature so I don't understand why you would find it ridiculous that anyone would wonder if he would support JUNGKOOK in the same way and manner he's shown up for and supported- consistently supported him in the past as well as others he is friends with.

He was there for Hobi, he was there for Taemin, he was there for Suga- why are you questioning why he would be there also for Jungkook?

Ooohh you agree on this thank God. For a sec I thought you think jokers are delulu for saying Jm supports Jungkook. Because that's not even an opinion it's a fact.

He is in the prime of his time- as he said, but I don't even think it's his prime yet. He's in the precursor of his prime time. The eve of is uprising. His career is barely starting. He is an idol for all season. This is the prelude.

He's in demand. He is making moves for himself. He's got a Hollywood movie cameo to film, film scores, and a whole concert to do on his own.

I find shippers who don't indivualize them and those that hyper individualize them quite toxic. X

all is fair in love and war. . . jason todd.

it is four in the morning but this idea of the joker kidnapping jason's girlfriend, and hurting her in front of him, has been keeping me awake so here we are.

of course this is going to include violence, blood / gore, descriptive injuries, kidnapping, and other things of that likeness. will also include mentions of hospitals / hospital machinery and leukemia so if you are sensitive / easily triggered by those categories, this is not for you </3

summary : you are the resurrected jason todd's girlfriend, living with your mother and little brother in the crime ridden city of gotham. whenever there is danger near you, the red hood immediately swoops in to save you. this has not gone unnoticed by one particular clown of gotham. so he decides to use you to get to the red hood. && this kinda goes along with the arkham knight route of jason's past.

also i kinda hate how i represented the joker in some parts so bear with me. and this is really long. like. way longer than i anticipated. so. sorry?

with that all being said and done, off we go into this delirious one shot.

        "i'm sorry" tears were falling from the girl's eyes. "i didn't have a choice."

        the boy scoffed. "there's always a choice." he had been led here, sold out by someone he loves once again. first it was his mother, who cared more for her drugs than she did her own son. now, it was his lover. the two women in his life who he was supposed to always be able to trust. and they were the two who had betrayed him. the irony was suffocating. 

        "he took my brother. he took him." the girl was struggling against her bonds, tied to the balcony above him. her fresh bruises and the cut above her eye showed she had put up a fight. "he's only a boy."

        "so was i," the boy's voice cracked. he was twenty - two now, but it was only six years ago when he was trapped in a warehouse much like this one. he was tortured, beaten and abused endlessly for days, weeks, months. a video was taken over the span of the boy's time away. it was sent to his father. the boy's father had done nothing. he was the most powerful man in gotham, and he did nothing. he watched. when he finally did something, it was too late. the boy was dead. the clown had won. 

        "you would've done the same if it was any one of your brothers."

        "i know. it's okay, i'm not mad," his voice sounded distant. she was right, of course. all of his brothers could take care of themselves, and could be scary sometimes, but the boy loved them too much to let them be hurt in any way, even if he doesn't show it. 

        "i'm sorry," she whispered once more. 

         from the shadows, that same maniacal laughter from all those years ago rose up from the balcony. the boy faltered, falling into the arms of two large henchmen, who held him tightly. the clacking of the clown's shoes came closer. "ah, young love. so pure. so innocent." he stepped into the light. "so . . . fragile." there stood the clown prince of gotham in his purple suit and bright green hair combed back neatly. his face was painted snow white, accented with his trademark blood red smile. the red looked so much like fresh blood the boy stole a glance at his girl. the cut above her eye had not stopped bleeding. he became sick to his stomach as the thought of the clown's smile being painted with her blood. joker's green eyes were staring down into the boy's deep blue ones. "hello, jason."

        the room got smaller. it became harder to breathe. it felt as though he had been slammed into a brick wall. he could still hear it. the scrape of the crowbar. the ticking of the bomb. the crunch of his bones. he could feel the metal breaking him again and again. the ties digging into his skin. the iron taste of blood on his tongue. he had spent six months being abused and tortured by this very villain. it took all of his strength not to just shoot the clown down where he stood. 

        "it's so good to see you again, little birdie. how's your back? healed nicely after i broke it, i hope. did you get my flowers? i made batsy promise he'd bring them to your grave." the word grave made jason suck in a breath. he had died. and it had been this clown's fault. now he was here, at the mercy of the joker once more.

      the joker circled the girl, and crouched down to her level. he ran a gloved hand down her arm. "such a beautiful girl."

        "don't touch her!" the red hood shouted from below, struggling against the men holding him. 

        the clown ignored him. "do you want to hear a joke?" the girl nodded, terrified. she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. "good, good. so, what's red and bad for your teeth?" he grabbed something from the dark with one hand, the other caressing her face. "a brick!" laughing his heartless laugh, the brick came crashing down and slammed into her face. the girl fell to the floor, her scream echoing through the abandoned warehouse.

        "(y/n)!" jason's vision rimmed red with fury. he snapped. he wrenched away from his captors, taking both down easily. more of joker's goonies filed into the room. without hesitating, jason killed every single one of them. he would burn the joker down to the ground for hurting her. another scream came from the balcony. jason looked to where she was. the joker had hit her again. distracted, he was easily overpowered. the joker had his people strip him of his utility belt and all weapons. he was helpless. 

        "now, now, birdie, let's not get too excited here. i know you're just dying for your turn, but don't worry. my crowbar is stored safely away, waiting for your return." the joker walked to the edge of the balcony, tossing the brick between his hands. it dripped with her blood. 

        "let her go, joker. it's me you want. not her. leave her out of this," jason pleaded. 

        "ah, ah, ah. sorry, birdie, but no can do! she here is the key to your obedience." the joker just shook his head. he turned back to the girl, "this might sting." the joker continued to hurt her, and jason was defenseless. she grew quieter with every strike, and jason began to worry the joker had pushed too far. 

        "(y/n). . ." jason breathed. the joker had forced her to stand, and jason got a look at all the damage that had been done. her face was swollen and scratched. the smooth skin now rough and uneven. her hair stuck to her sweaty forehead, matted in knots mixed with dirt and blood. her eyes flitted open and jason got a glance at her irises. one was red from the cut above it. her eye was trying to push the blood out, so it looked as though she was crying bloody tears. her white shirt had been ripped open, revealing her lacy black bra. it was jason's favorite of hers because of the way it defined her features. the lace was torn, and the straps were fraying, slipping from her shoulders. right under her collarbone was red and irritated. the joker had written something on her, much like the "J " he had branded on jason's face. jason tried to make out what it said, but the word was too bloody and too rough to see what it was. her side stained the shirt red, the mark spreading to her stomach. the joker had hit something, and hit it hard. her black flared skirt hid the dark stains of blood well, but jason knew they were there. her long legs were scarred from both the beatings and the jagged floor beneath her. her wrists and ankles were bound by a thorny rope, the material digging into her skin. jason prayed to whatever god what out there that the rope didn't cut too far, for fear of any one of her veins being opened. her bare feet were being stabbed by the jagged iron floor beneath her. blood dripped in a steady stream to the floor below her. the joker had hold of her arm, and it was clear he was the only thing stopping her from falling. 

        "isn't she so pretty? such a pretty, pretty angel." joker grabbed her face. "wait, now hold on a second. she needs a smile." joker pressed two of his fingers against the wound on her side. evangeline winced, losing her balance, while joker raised the two fingers to her lips and painted a smile on her face. "look, we're matching!" he showed off her smile of blood to jason, his trademark smile right next to hers. 

       jason couldn't look. his love, his one, his person, was in this mess because of him. she was bloody, broken and bruised because of him. if he had just stayed away, she wouldn't have gotten hurt. but she was so intoxicating. her voice, her laugh, her tendencies and quirks were things he couldn't live without now. it all started in that damn library with that damn book. pride and prejudice. they had tried to check it out at the same time. it was a cliche meet-cute, but jason wouldn't ask for anything better. he had let her check it out, and when it had been returned a week later, (y/n) had left a slip of paper bookmarked on the first chapter. on the note, it read her phone number. "this is a bit risky, but there's no way in hell i'm passing up a hot guy who reads jane austen. call me! xx (y/n)". that was over six months ago.

       of course jason called her. she had been so damn beautiful when they met. her hair was half up in a knot on her head, the other fell down in cascading waves. her loose clothes hung from her frame, revealing nothing about the shape of the body beneath it. her lips were slightly chapped, and you could tell she bit on it as a nervous habit. her hands had been cracked, dry from the cold weather outside. she had been standing in the sun, so her blue light glasses reflected across those eyes, and they shone in response.

       they set up a date. they were going to meet at the local coffee shop, just across from the library. again, it was cliche, but jason wouldn't have had it any other way. they sat in that coffee shop until closing, having been there for over six hours. they talked about everything: their families, their likes and dislikes, past pets, childhood, and even their most embarrassing moments. when the baristas kicked them out for closing, neither one wanted the night to end. jason wanted to stay with her forever, wanted to hear her lustrous voice for eternity. she invited him back to her apartment, and he smiled so wide as he accepted. they stayed up all night- well, jason did. (y/n) fell asleep on the couch at around four am, three fourths of the way through the six hour pride and prejudice movie.

       now here stood the same girl, still just as beautiful, but her beauty was marred by blood and grime. (y/n) looked so helpless in the joker's arms. her broken body was like a ragdoll, limp and lifeless. the sight made jason want to cry and scream and vomit all at the same time. she was so precious and didn't deserve this.

       "please," red hood pleaded once more. the psychotic clown just smiled back at him. "i'm begging you. i'll do anything. just don't hurt her anymore."

       "my, my. you didn't even beg for your life, but you'll beg for hers?" the joker mused, studying jason. jason was on his knees on the floor below him, his hands bound behind his back. he had been stripped of his utility belt and all weapons. his mask was broken and scattered across the floor, and the domino one wore underneath had been removed. his comm link had been ripped from his ear and crushed. no calling for help now. it was just jason and the joker's army.

       "she's all i have left." the words were a whisper, laced with ruin and defeat.

       "then i will take her from you, too." the joker pulled out a shiny revolver from behind his back.

       "no!" jason called out, tears staining his vision.

       glass rained from the ceiling as canisters of smoke gas filled the room. somebody was attacking the warehouse.

       a gunshot rang out. a female voice cried in a silenced scream. a body fell to the floor.

       "(y/n)!"

       just then, four vigilantes landed in the warehouse. the joker screamed out, fleeing from the scene and taking the still body of the girl with him. more goons filled the room as the vigilantes prepared for a fight. the henchmen holding onto jason had let go of him, but he hadn't moved. he was delirious, in shock and unresponsive. a comforting hand was on his shoulder.

       "jason? jason, are you okay? are you hurt?" it was dick grayson, aka nightwing and jason's older brother. "come on, jay. we gotta get you outta here." he hauled his younger brother to his feet, slinging jason's arm around dick's shoulders. jason vaguely took in the scene, seeing spoiler, robin and red robin all fighting off men twice their sizes.

       "she's gone," jason muttered, mostly to himself. "i couldn't protect her, and now she's dead."

       "it's okay, little wing. you're safe now." nightwing's voice was calm. "oracle, red hood's been injured. i can't say how bad, but there's blood all over the warehouse. the joker got to him again. you got to get us out of here." a muffled voice responded to dick's call for help. soon, the batcopter was hovering over them, releasing a ladder for the vigilantes to grab onto. "spoiler, robin, let's go! red robin, come on! we got red hood." the other three nodded in response, running for the swinging rope ladder. but jason's weak body began fighting against dick as he hauled him up.

       "no! i won't leave without her!" he thrashed.

       "without who? come on, little wing. there's bombs rigged all over the warehouse, we got to go."

       "(y/n)! i have to save her. he took her. the blood, it's hers, not mine. please, dick. she's all i have."

       dick ran a gloved hand down his face. "shit. jason we can't do anything now. the joker's gone. we have to get back to the batcave first, then we can start looking for her."

       jason wasn't happy with that answer, pushing himself off dick. nightwing made a motion to robin that he didn't see, and something sharp was in his neck. his body slowed, becoming numb. dick grabbed him once again. they drugged him? hurt flashed in jason's heavy lidded eyes.

       "you bastard. he's gonna kill her," jason croaked. but nightwing just shook his head. then the world went black.

       jason awoke some time later, strapped down to a cot in the batcave's medical bay. dick and bruce were in a heated argument a few meters away, while alfred was tending to jason's wounds. tim and damian were spectators to the argument, but it was clear they were on dick's side. cass, steph and duke were no where to be seen. barbara was at the batcomputer, running back the tapes of the previous night's events. jason turned back to his brothers, where it looked like bruce was about to give up. he caught a few words, but couldn't hear much.

       "-not stable-"

       "-locked up, bruce! he's a hu-"

       "it's not safe-"

       they were arguing over him, jason could tell. sighing, he looked away, staring at the ceiling.

       "master bruce is concerned for you, master jason," alfred's soft voice spoke as the man cleaned his supplies. "you keep running off to track down the joker, and he doesn't understand why. perhaps you should talk to him." the butler left without another word.

       he doesn't understand? how could he not? i had to save (y/n), surely bruce understands that. i failed her yesterday, but i won't do that again. i'll find the joker, and i'll kill him like i should've all those years ago.

       thumping footsteps pulled jason from his thoughts. it was bruce. he took the seat alfred had just occupied. dick, tim and damian had left the room. jason didn't look at his adoptive father, just kept on staring up. no doubt it was bruce who ordered jason be chained down like a rabid animal.

       "jason-" oh no. he was using his tired dad voice. "why did you go after the joker like that yesterday? no one is ever supposed to face him alone." that was a rule bruce had implemented after jason died the first time. dick had nearly murdered the joker when he found out about jason, and bruce had to stop him from going too far. he had already lost one son to the joker, and couldn't lose another. one of the first things he told tim was to never try and face the joker without bruce or someone else there. even then, bruce didn't like the idea of any of his children taking on the clown prince, no matter how many stood against him. the joker was just too unpredictable.

       "i had to save her." his voice was dry.

       "save who, jason?"

       jason said the answer as though it was obvious. it was to him. "(y/n)."

       bruce's sigh could be heard halfway across the world. "jason, how many times do we have to go over this? (y/n)'s dead. she died three months ago."

       the memory played in jason's head without his permission.

       (y/n), lying in a hospital bed with a forced smile stretched across her lips. the heart monitor next to her was slowing, as was her breathing. the girl's cold hands were clasped firmly in jason's warm ones. it was just them in the room, the doctors had left to give them privacy. they were supposed to be saying their goodbyes, but no words could be spoken. she had been diagnosed a few weeks before they met, but had abstained from telling him until a couple months ago.

       "say something, please." her voice was barely above a whisper, but that was all the strength (y/n) could muster.

       "what's there to say? you're going to die tonight, and i can't do anything about it." jason didn't know how to process his emotions, so he had just turned them off. he felt like he was suffocating in this stupid room. "we were supposed to have the rest of our lives together. i had plans for you and me, you know? i was gonna build us a pretty yellow house, far from here. i was gonna marry you, give you a couple of kids, you know? i was ready to drop everything for you. give up my life as a vigilante for you. but now you're gonna die. you're dying right now."

       his words hurt her heart. she wanted that life with him. she wanted kids with him, she wanted to marry him. "i wanna marry you, jailbird." jailbird. it was her nickname for him once she learned he was former robin and now red hood.

       "yeah? really?" he picked up his head, to meet her starry, watery eyes. she sniffled and nodded. jason smiled a little and pulled a box out of his pocket. he got down on one knee and opened the box. inside, was a beautiful wedding ring, given to him by his stepmother, catherine todd. she was a shitty person, and he didn't care for her at all, but the ring was the only thing she left him when catherine died. "(y/n), i love you more than i've ever loved anyone. i didn't even think it was possible to have all the feelings i have for you. please, will you marry me?"

       her tears rolled down her pale cheeks. "yes, of course, baby. of course i'll marry you. i love you so much, jason. i love you so goddamn much."

       (y/n) died hours later.

-----

&&. okay so tbh i didn't know how to end this, and then when i decided i wanted the reader to end up being dead i didn't know how to do that either. so the last like eight paragraphs are kinda just a disaster. oh well. hope you enjoyed and i always take requests! i write anything and everything having to do w dc / batfamily, so don't hesitate to ask for the wildest of things. xx atticus

Duke grew up with the annual Smile Run fundraiser at his school. A long table set up near the school entrance, two kids getting their volunteer hours sitting by a big box for donations—and it wasn’t real, back then.

Not the way it is now, watching his parents through glass, laughing themselves sick.

Tim wants Duke involved. Tim showed him spreadsheets and research papers and budgets for each year, how many people they helped, how the research continues to help.

“I’m just a guy,” Duke says quietly. “I don’t know about—where to put money, how to help people like my parents. I’m not smart, like you.”

“Just tell us what you need,” Tim says.

“I don’t need anything,” Duke says, “you guys gave me everything already.”

Tim squeezes his shoulder. Think about it.

Duke, watching his parents through the glass, thinks about it.

On paper, the after probably looks better than the before. Big, new family. Rich guardian, a mansion instead of a house. Heck, he works with Batman.

Duke smarts for the before. 

They can dump all the money in the world into helping people with the aftermath of the Joker’s attacks, but it won’t bring back all the things he misses.

His mom’s soft, quiet smile. His dad’s loud voice while he reads the papers. The smell of blueberry pancakes before school.

He tears his eyes away from his parents. He thinks he might cry if he keeps looking.

His parents didn’t get a funeral because they’re still alive. Still there. Duke knows.The ache that they’re missing, that they’re still gone in all the ways that matters—

Does it make him an awful son, that he grieves them even though they didn’t die?

__

Read the rest on ao3

This is part of the piece I wrote for the @gothamcityunmasked Batman Fanbook! I hope all the Duke lovers enjoy it, we need more of my boy.

can you please do Bojan×Kris enemies to lovers but it's their "oh. oh." moments?💕

Hi anon, sorry for not replying to this for so long, I started writing this and then realised that I had accidentally made it more of a set up for a longer story than a shorter one (sorry)

I hope that this is along the lines of what you are wanting (I might add to it later)

---------------

The first time Kris and Bojan met, Bojan remembers hating the younger man’s guts. It was just a random school day and he was practising for a gig that he was going to play with his old band.

The song he was practising was Led S Severa, a classic by Big Foot Mama, and one of his all time favourite songs. 

Bojan was getting into the song and when he saw Kris enter the music room, the literal son of the guy whose song he was playing, he gave it his all, putting all his emotion and all the tricks he knew into the song.

Expecting praise for his wonderful cover of the song (he was a bit self centred back then), Bojan walked up to Kris but instead of hearing the younger boy say how wonderful Bojan was, all that Kris said was “That song isn’t played with distortion”.

That song isn’t played with distortion?! That’s all he had to say? Not “Oh, you did great dude” or “I’ve never heard that song played that way before”. 

Just “That song isn’t played with distortion”.

Was the problem really that Kris was rude to him? Probably not. Was the matter more about Bojan’s pride being hurt than the other kid being an asshole? Yeah-ish. 

Was the problem actually because the criticism was coming from that specific boy that Bojan had been noticing around school for ages and maybe had a little crush on? Definitely.

Because of the embarrassment, Bojan quickly resolved to hate the other boy until the end of time for breaking his heart (he also used to be very dramatic), and did, for at least a few weeks.

Well hate is a strong word. It was more like he continued pining in secret while glaring at the other boy whenever he was near.

---------------

Joker Out were recording their first album and Bojan was really getting on Kris’ nerves. It was like the other man was running on pure adrenaline and nothing else, and to be honest it was tiring him the fuck out.

They were midway through recording Proti Toku and Bojan was hopping around like he had just had ten red bulls, annoying Kris while he tried to finish the guitar part.

After a pretty hectic incident of the singer getting caught in at least three cables and almost smashing his head on a table, Kris decided it was enough.

He was going to confront the singer so that the song and eventually the album could finally be recorded without any band member deaths.

“Bojan, can you come over here please?” Kris asked when they had a break, gesturing to a spot on the couch where he was sitting.

“Yup, sure” the energetic singer replied, sitting down next to the taller man, hands grasped in his lap giving the other man his full attention.

To be honest it was slightly nerve wracking having the singer's undivided attention focused on Kris, given that the other man had been so easily distracted for the past few days.

Kris being as unwavering as ever just powered on though, ignoring the fact that he was the only thing the singer had decided was worthy of all his attention, and how his stomach filled with butterflies at that fact.

Deciding on a gentle approach, Kris decided to start with “Bojan, you’ve got to reign it in a bit.” Seeing the look of slight confusion on the singer’s face he decided to just be direct. 

“Bojan, you’ve been extremely distracting the past few days, I need you to lay off a bit.” he said firmly, and Bojan’s face fell.

Looking pretty dejected, Bojan got up and turned to walk away, and Kris couldn’t help but feel like he had just kicked a puppy. 

He couldn’t help but feel bad but at least it actually did work, Bojan did stay away and stopped being so energetic. 

For at most for a few hours.

He then decided to start up his earlier behaviour with vigour, and seemed completely dead fucking focused on annoying Kris as much as possible while maintaning a look of complete innocence.

It took about an hour more of this for Kris to break again. This time though, when he called the singer over, Bojan just greeted him with an almost challenging smile.

Any attempt made by Kris to settle this somewhat amicably went out the window at that point and what followed was a yelling match which leveled the amount of noise that was produced at one of their gigs.

Kris soon found that he felt like there was no way he could win this fight, as every insult and cruel remark he made would just be met with the same smile from Bojan.

That smile which every time it was directed at him, sparked a fire low in his gut which as much as he tried, couldn’t be fully ignored.

Why was he feeling these feelings? Why was he feeling these things around Bojan of all people? And why did they suddenly appear the moment the other man started giving him the most smug bastard, self satisfied smile to ever exist?

How was he supposed to focus on winning this fight when his thoughts were now occupied by Boja? 

Thoughts that were currently going in the direction of what would happen if this fight suddenly became physical, thoughts of what would happen if the other mans MMA skills were put to use, if those muscular thighs were pinning Kris to the floor…

And nope, that was a train of thought that Kris did not want to go down right that second. 

He put all his energy into pulling himself back together, and decided that the best thing to do was to walk away from the other man as he was obviously fueling the fire by acknowledging the other man and fighting with him.

Also because he didn’t know if he would be able to keep his thoughts (and possibly hands) off the singer for much longer.

Removing himself from the situation and ignoring the singer seemed to do the trick though, and they finished Proti Toku the next day, though the thoughts of Bojan never seemed to stop from that day on.

Number 7

For the first few of my entries on Complete Monsters, we’ll explore the worlds of superhero comics for the most despicable villains I have seen.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, and no, The Joker won’t show up here. Because I found two people who are actually WORSE than him. And we’ll focus on the first one here.

The most evil person in Marvel Comics, the embodiment of oppression and tyranny, the counter to the pure moral paragon that is Captain America...

The Red Skull.

Do I even have to go into detail why he’s evil? He’s a freaking Nazi! One handpicked and trained by Adolf himself, even!

He’s one of the very few people who will make even the most prideful villains work together to stop, not only because he’s that much of a threat, but because they just hate him that damn much.

(WARNING, THHE FOLLOWING SECTIONS ARE NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. DISCRETION IS ADVISED.)

Murder, torture, unethical experimentation on human subjects, if there’s a war crime you can think of, he’s done it.

Can’t kill his nemesis Captain America? Why, he’ll just dress up people as him and kill them from sheer spite!

He once graverobbed Charles Xavier's (Leader of the X-Men, powerful telepath) dead body and stole his brain to take his powers. He planted his consciousness inside Captain America’s body and took it over to not just survive, but to use it to hurt and kill people. He also tried to implant his brain into the unborn baby of Captain America’s lover Sharon Carter, but it failed, resulting in Sharon losing the baby.

Taking over the countries of Latveria and Genosha for a brief period of time each, where he made life for the Latverians and the mutants living there respectively a living hell, with concentration camps and all the delightful things his kind do.

And he’s a scumbag in his personal life too. After emotionally and physically abusing a woman while he was in hiding, he had her give birth to his child. The mother died giving birth to his daughter, Sinthea. And the bastard proceeds to spit on the dead woman’s corpse and then try to DROWN HIS INFANT DAUGHTER TO DEATH. Because he wanted a son.

For God’s sake, he’s so vile that even JOKER refused to work with him!

TOO EVIL. FOR J O K E R

Unlike many villains, who lose their “edge”, their threat level, as it were, The Red Skull does not. His status as... well, a Nazi, instantly puts people in-universe and in real life on edge. Because they know exactly what he is. And so does he. When it comes to bad, the Red Skull is in a class all by himself.

“His eyes, unfathomably empty, devoid of all compassion... all humanity... No one has eyes like that... no one! All these months I've lived in a fool's paradise, refusing to believe his claim to be the real Red Skull, refusing to believe that my greatest enemy had found a way to cheat death... but he has. The Red Skull lives... God help us all.”

Jason doesn’t join the Batfamily after his death

Like he still does his crime lord thing but he just doesn't go revealing himself to any of the family. He just minds his business.

At first Jason wants Revenge, he wants Justice for himself for all the ones Joker killed before and After his death and still may kill.

After he rationalizes his death. He has a clear(ish) mind set and decides it would be smarter to not involve himself with the people that betrayed him bats.

So he just minds his on business and does his whole crime boss/anti hero thing.

Meanwhile the Bats are stumped on who Red Hood is.

So Alfred comes up with the genius idea of befriending Red Hood and having him reveal his identity in his own time. Bruce refuses to have a murderer- yes even one who has good reasons behind it- run free without knowing who he is.

So Bruce decides to go with said plan and decides for Dick and Steph and Cass to befriend him because they are the friendliest (and Cass insisted that she stay)

They decide to stalk him first so they know who they are dealing with and what they would need to do to get him to trust them.

While in the process of stalking him. They see Red Hood needs help so they assit him in the fight. After the fight Red Hood accidentally says something that only Jason would say/know. So instantly suspicious, Dick asks him how he knows that phrase/thing because only Jason would know or do this thing.

Jason panics and says that Robin was his boyfriend and he told him that thing. He told them the reason he became Red Hood to avenge his lost love, Robin.

Then the Dick, Steph, and Cass bring him back to the batcave then tell Bruce about Red Hood and how he was his son’s partner’s lover.

Bruce thanks Red Hood for accepting his son and loving him. He was about to send him of his way. When Alfred decides to invite him over and says his is practically family now.

Just shenanigans.

Dick teased his brothers boyfriend and he kinda becomes his little brother

Jason declined (with fear) but the bats would greet him when they saw him on patrol

Jason tried his best to avoid them but he really didn’t want to

He just gaslights and girl bosses

Tim makes him made and his eyes start glowing (he trusts them at this point) and they ask him what happens and he starts to avoid them

They realize what a good boss Jason is

His name is fake name is Darcy ;) or Cathrinus (male version of Cathrine

They find out and have this emotional conversation and heal and stuff

Roy and Jason friendship

They ask how he knows Roy he says they had ‘ history ’ just to mess with them

They are super surprised when they hear his name their like ITS SO FANCY?!!??!!

Jason Stephanie friendship

Dick and Jason reconnecting

-The Pit makes things permanent so if you have hair die in when you die then when you come back that will be you new natural color

In this AU Jason is an Auburn haired guy but before his death he died his hair black so now its black with the white streak for the pit.

Brubabs Examination (With a Hint of Batjokes)

A while back, I answered a prompt from @multi-fandom-memes asking which I'd rather see, Brubabs or Jokebats and I don't think I properly dived into that whole can of worms, or at least I have more ideas.

Firstly, a quick recap of my thoughts on Jokebats: I don't like it.

I get that there are many versions of the characters but I like too much of the canon around Joker being a universally terrible person to get rid of it. If we get rid of the worst aspects of Joker's character we lose two of my favorite characters (Harley and Red Hood) as well as the criticism on the way heroes can be argued to create their own villains. The Joker only does things because he wants Batman's attention so in a way, everything the Joker does is Bruce's fault by association which is why the temptation of killing him is so great. It misses the point entirely to remove the one sided element of Joker's obsessive fixation and it replaces all that with an honestly pretty mediocre dynamic. Bruce and Joker are rivals because they represent the exact opposite of each other. Sanding down their edges and making them lovers removes everything interesting from their rivalry.

So anyways, with that out of the way, Brubabs. Jesus christ, where to start. Brubabs is a very complex issue, on one hand, the relationship has never been characterized as abusive or detrimental in canon (despite how obviously abusive it would be so in any realistic scenario), on the other, total annihilation of the bro code via sleeping with your son's ex-girlfriend. There's no overlap in the relationships but that doesn't make it better. Timeline is still: Barb and Dick break up, Bruce and Barb get horizontal, Bruce gets Barb preggers, Barb and Dick get back together, and Barb finds out she's pregnant and there's no way its Dick's. Still pretty bad even if there was no technical cheating.

The dynamic is alright with them being pretty default besides the obvious daddy's girl element that nobody's really explored yet (the day they do, I'll fuckin' party because that's gonna be comedy gold and neat to explore). Of course all this can be avoided if you just alter the characters in a new timeline. Get rid of Dickbarb (and with that ship name I'm eager to do so) and age up Barb. Then again, if you change characters so majorly then there's no reason to just make new characters. There's no reason this aged up Barb can't just be a new character and have the old one remain the same. It expands the DCU. However, comics, and especially Batman, don't exactly view reboots or alternate continuities changing characters so majorly as a foreign concept, just look at the disparity in characterization between the Dark Knight, Batman Forever, and the Lego Batman movie, and its hardly the first time a fandom would discard canon to that extent just to make a ship happen, just look at my recent Dramione post as a perfect example. The fandom's Draco Malfoy is a calm collected intellectual who always has a sly comeback delivered with surgical precision and a completely different character to the canon Draco Malfoy who is a whiny, petulant, blood purist, elitist brat in the first half of the series and a sack of fear and coping in the second.

I feel like I should also clarify my position on Brubabs: its never been done well in canon. Its also basically only good for trashy fanfiction in its current depiction. I've thought about this a lot since their interaction in the Mystery of the Batwoman is one of my favorite ship dynamics, (You could argue I basically wrote a slightly more taboo Brubabs relationship with 2 of my OCs) but fundamentally, the whole thing is a train wreck that only hurts everything it touches and DC needs to have a strict rule that Bruce Timm can't have anything in his stories about it.

So yeah. that's my full examination of the ship. I'll also encourage you to give @gothamlioness1 's examination of Batjokes VS Brubabs a read through since it goes way more in depth into different canons and why Batjokes is just flat out awful and more problematic than Brubabs but both ships are far from squeaky clean. Thanks for reading this far, have a wonderful day.

Blue Mellow

by ShalalaMai

What if Batman become the Batman who laugh due to the aftermath of Joker toxic gas? And killed almost every superheros on earth.

The super sons must defended the world with what has left. With the cost was their life, or that what they'd thought. . . . Damian thought he has died. Same to Jon. But when he opened his eyes, he realized he was in another dimension with his superboy.

(English is not my first language, please forgive me for any grammar mistake. I just want to write a JonDami travel to DCAMU world.)

Words: 93, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Son of Batman (2014), Super Sons (Comics), Justice League vs. Teen Titans (2016), Teen Titans: The Judas Contract (2017), Justice League Dark (2017), Justice League: War

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, M/M, Other

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jonathan Kent, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Raven (Teen Titans), Clark Kent, Teen Titans (DCU), Justice League (DCU)

Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent/Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Teen Titans & Damian Wayne, Clark Kent & Jonathan Kent, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Justice League & Damian Wayne, Raven/Damian Wayne, John Constantine & Damian Wayne

Additional Tags: Sad, Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Damian Wayne, Protective Jonathan Samuel Kent, Damian Wayne-centric, Protective Damian Wayne, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, How Do I Tag, Bottom Damian Wayne, Top Jonathan Samuel Kent, Damian Wayne is Not Robin, Alternate Universe - Magic, Mentioned Batfamily (DCU), magic user damian wayne, Damian and Jon are not okay, i need more sleep, Writing is my way to deal with depression, Two Damian get along, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/44016627

I was listening to Paul Simon’s Hearts and Bones album recently, for the first time in many years – the first time, really, since I was a young teenager. I bought it when it came out in 1983 and listened to it over and over. But hearing it again, and particularly listening to the title track, I was struck by a question: how did I take this back then? What did it mean to me, and why did it mean so much?

So: the title song is a beautifully worn-down response to a relationship at its end, a mix of nostalgic glimpses of happier times and a weary, bruised sense of life in the aftermath of some cathartic break-up. Listening to it as a young teenager, still a virgin and almost wholly inexperienced in such emotions, I wonder if I didn’t think this is how I want to feel. I wanted the happiness, but in a retrospective way (because then it’s done and dusted and safe); and I wanted the melancholy because it just seemed so grown-up and sophisticated and suave. I wanted, as an old joke has it, to skip the marriage and go straight to the divorce. After all – and I am hardly the first person to point this out – there is a complex sort of joy in sadness.

But can this be right? Surely what people want is to be happy. Whole philosophies (I’m looking at you, utilitarianism) rest on the premise that more happiness is always and everywhere a good thing. There is a Global Happiness Index, measuring how happy people are (Denmark tops the league). Bhutan even has a Gross National Happiness Commission, with the power to review government policy decisions and allocate resources.

It’s good to be happy sometimes, of course. Yet the strange truth is that we don’t wish to be happy all the time. If we did, more of us would be happy – it’s not as if we in the affluent West lack tools or means to gratify ourselves. Sometimes we are sad because we have cause, and sometimes we are sad because – consciously or unconsciously – we want to be. Perhaps there’s a sense in which emotional variety is better than monotony, even if the monotone is a happy one. But there’s more to it than that, I think. We value sadness in ways that make happiness look a bit simple-minded. Sadness inspires great art in a way that grinningly eating ice cream in your underpants cannot. In his essay ‘Atrabilious Reflections upon Melancholy’ (1823), Hartley Coleridge (son of Samuel Taylor) praised melancholy as a more refined state of mind than happiness. ‘Melancholy can scarce exist in an undegraded spirit – it cannot exist in a mere animal’ is how he put it:Melancholy is the only Muse. She is Thalia and Melpomene. She inspired Milton and Michael Angelo, and Swift and Hogarth. All men of genius are melancholy – and none more so than those whose genius is comic. Men (those I mean who are not mere animals) may be divided, according to the kind of their melancholy, into three great classes. Those who seek for the infinite, in contradistinction to the finite – those who seek for the infinite in the finite – and those who seek to degrade the finite by a comparison with the infinite. The first class comprehends philosophers and religionists; the second, poets, lovers, conquerors, misers, stockjobbers, & c.; and the third comprises satirists, comedians, jokers of all kinds, man-haters, and womanhaters, Epicures, and bon-vivants in general.Melancholy, Coleridge is arguing, is more dignified than happiness. I suspect this is a sense that most people have – that joy is, at root, a kind of idiot pleasure, the idiom of the lobotomy, a balloon just waiting to be popped. Sorrow is somehow more grown-up, because less illusioned. It feels more sincere, more authentic. As she prepared to write Adam Bede (1859), George Eliot copied the following from Thomas Carlyle’s Life of Oliver Cromwell into her notebook: ‘The quantity of sorrow he has, does it not mean withal the quantity of sympathy he has, the quantity of faculty and victory he shall yet have? Our sorrow is the inverted image of our nobleness.’Because it has some of the colouring of nobility, sadness is also, perhaps, more beautiful than happiness. Philip Larkin’s ‘Money’ (1973) ends:I listen to money singing. It’s like looking down From long French windows at a provincial town, The slums, the canal, the churches ornate and mad In the evening sun. It is intensely sad.It Is Intensely Sad would be a pretty good title for a study of Larkin’s verse as a whole. Of course, one reaction to this poem would be to say: ‘Wait just a minute, Phil: you don’t actually mean “it is intensely sad”. You mean “I am intensely sad”. The street, the church, the whole provincial town is doing just fine, thank you, and has no responsibility for your mournfulness, looking down from your long French windows.’ Such a reaction would not diminish Larkin’s achievement, either, for this is indeed the whole point of his poetry: to write, not about the slums, the canal or the church, but about the elegance of melancholy.Why on earth should melancholy be elegant – or attractive in any other way? On the face of it, it ought to be precisely the sort of thing that evolution breeds out of the race, a prime target for sexual deselection. What female would want to mate with a miserable partner when she could have a happy, smiling one instead? Put like that, of course, the question looks a little ridiculous; as if we’d really prefer to pair off with SpongeBob SquarePants instead of Morrissey. But why? Why would you rather spend time with the latter than the former?If depression is a foul miasma wreathing the brain, elegant sadness is more like a peacock’s tail, coloured in blue-gentian and rich marine greensIt was Charles Darwin, in The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals (1872), who noted that sadness manifested the same way in all cultures. For something so ubiquitous, it is tempting to venture an evolutionary explanation. Alas, the anthropological and evolutionary work in this area has focused almost entirely upon depression, which is not quite what we are talking about here. I can tell you with rather grim authority that the difference between elegant ennui and the black dog is like the difference between pleasant intoxication and typhus. Many evolutionary theories have been proposed for depression’s adaptive value, but no one has, so far as I am aware, tried to claim that it is enjoyable.If depression is a foul miasma wreathing the brain, elegant sadness is more like a peacock’s tail, coloured in blue-gentian and rich marine greens. Is it also universal? To this question, anthropology offers no definitive answer. Yet the condition certainly manifests itself in a suggestive array of cultures. It is the sadness to which the Japanese phrase mono no aware gestures (物の哀れ, literally ‘the beautiful sorrow of things’). It is the haunted simplicity of those musical traditions that spread from Africa into the New World as the Blues. It’s the mixture of strength, energy, pity and melancholy that Claude Lévi-Strauss found in Brazil, encapsulated in the title of his book about his travels there Tristes Tropiques (1955). It’s the insight of Vergil’s Aeneas, as he looks back over his troubled life and forward to troubles yet to some: sunt lacrimae rerum; there are tears in everything, said not mournfully nor hopelessly but as a paradoxical statement about the beauty of the world (Aeneid 1:462).It would be possible, of course, to construct a ‘cost benefit analysis’ of the sorts of sadness I am describing here. We might suggest that it is a signal that the individual in question has the strength, leisure and sensitivity to indulge in being sad. Saying so invokes what evolutionary scientists call ‘the handicap principle’, a hypothesis first framed by the Israeli evolutionary biologist Amotz Zahavi in 1975. The idea is that extravagant traits such as the highland deer’s massive antlers or the peacock’s tail are useful because they are so ostentatiously expensive, manifestly inconveniencing the owner. They are a way of saying: I’m so strong, my genes are so desirable, that I can afford to schlep about with this manifest – and, by the way, beautiful – disadvantage attached to my body.Sadness, according to this model, is a kind of conspicuous consumption. It takes more muscles to frown than smile, and maybe that’s the point. It signals ones capacity to squander a resource precisely by squandering it. Any fool can live and be happy. It takes greater strength to live and be sad.All the same, this analysis loses the most important aspect of this emotion; not that it costs, but that it is beautiful. Happy can be pretty, but some species of sad have access to beauties that happy can never know.

Day 7: Soulmate

Hello, hello! How have you been? I’m using my first joker for today’s prompt. The original one should have been about Science Fantasy, but I think my original story is already about it? So here you go, a classic soulmate prompt. 

Enjoy~

Masterlist

Everyone is born with a sentence tattooed on their inner left wrist, the one nearer and closest to the heart. The sentence could be just one word long – whether it’s a simple “yes” or “ah”, or many words linking to each other in a long sentence. As far as this phenomenon has existed, everyone had a soulmate.

However, when a certain girl learned about this phenomenon for the first time, she discovered unsurprisingly her lack of one. It was not the most important nor useful information to learn as a kid tossed aside in the slums. It was even a liability. Wandering in the slums, with not even a penny in hand and punctured rags, death – and all types of horror, were a daily occurrence. She would often see someone crying at the feet of their breathless lover, the tattoo disappearing magically from both of their wrists. She didn’t mind much, as it meant more distraction for the target in front of her and more opportunity for her to steal. For her, this could mean two more days of survival on moulded, hard-as-rock, bread. Nothing more and nothing less. Her lack of one, on the other side, meant one less vulnerability for others to use or take advantage of.

One day, after she had agreed to be the next leader in line and had undertaken the training for a few months, the old man took her to meet his subordinate. A friend, he had called.

“It’s nothing serious. I wanted you to meet my right-hand man, so he can protect you as well while you are still training. You should get along with him and his child too. You never know when you might need help from a trustworthy person.” The man with a growing grey head had said. He wasn’t very tall. But somehow, all his other features were always concealed from her. “If I remember correctly, Hector’s son should be a few months older than you.”

Walking down another rusty street of the lightless back alley, she hadn’t been that interested. It was another man she would have to work with, one way or another, another one she could have met anywhere or at any time. However, after they stopped in the middle of a rich part of the town, knocked in a now familiar pattern, her interest perked. Another man, in his middle age, opened the forest green door. Clinging at his legs was a little kid with raven features, half hiding behind them. Maybe the old man had hoped for her to make friends with the little child barely older than her, but instead of being focused on the child, she had been much more concentrated on the adult. Was his name Hector Shaffer?

The man was welcoming them with the most care she had ever seen. It was not out of fear either. Just by looking at his appearance, anyone could easily guess the butler’s personality. He couldn’t be a bad guy. Every single one of his facial features was showing his gentleness and patience. The smile directed to her was one full of warmth with eyes twinkling like those of the snobby ignorant children. While the first thought that came at her was his overwhelming gentle aura, the second thought that came to her mind was much more gruesome. He was bound to die soon. In the cruel world, she had lived in and seen so far, a nice person couldn’t live for long. They were the first to be sacrificed, tricked, and killed. They would all die in the cruellest of ways.

Unsurprisingly, her prediction became true. Two days after meeting them, both the old man – who took care of her all her life, and Hector, the nice man who welcomed them, died in mysterious circumstances hidden under the disguise of an unfortunate incident. Learning the news through the screen was a shock for Lucien. For Alice, though, it meant one more reason to move on and an impending role to shoulder. Whoever, as she was ready to leave this place they had lived in for a few days, she didn’t have the heart to leave this sobbing child, reminding her so much of her younger self, alone. Lucien was devasted. Holding tightly on his knees, like the child he was, he cried on the couch for hours. He had known his fair share of sadness, but he didn’t expect the only person he could feel safe with, to die at such a young age. He wasn’t ready to shoulder all the responsibility an adult had to, or face all the dangers hiding in the dark.

“I won’t be able to see him anymore! What should I do? Am I going to get taken away? I don’t want to go back!”

After being tossed from one family member to the other, Lucien had been happy to live with his uncle and thought to repay him for his favour. But now that he was dead, it was impossible for him to do so. While the pretty girl sitting at his side, had never talked to him and even chose to ignore him, he was just grateful for her presence, even if it wasn’t going to stay for long. It was just the first time for him to see his whole world crashing down. And while he had run out of arguments to wail some more, a hesitant voice sounded from his side.

“… Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.”

Even if he had been crying a few instants before, this sentence struck him. He was still impossibly lonely and sad at the recent loss he suffered. But this sentence had been tattooed on his left wrist since the day he was born. The young girl who had been cold to him so far was none other than his long-awaited soulmate.

A week later, Lucien had declared he would take care of Alice forever, as her new butler, just like his uncle did to the previous leader.

Revelation | Bruce Wayne x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: Can I request Bruce Wayne with the prompt "I didn't wanna tell you like this" ?

Thanks

summary: when Bruce gets badly injured, you get a call from Alfred, who tells you exactly what your boyfriend has been up to.

tws: injury, swearing

Bruce had never meant for it to turn out this way, but after his last fight with Scarecrow, he was in bad shape; Alfred didn't think he was going to make it through the night, which hurt enough already, as he had buried enough Waynes, but to bury a son as well was something he could never stomach - it hurt more when he made the phone call and asked you to come over. To know that his pain was to be carried by another made Alfred sick to his stomach.

You took turns watching him, making sure that he was still breathing, to make sure he wasn't dead yet; minutes felt like weeks, and although you confided in Alfred and he returned the sentiment, you weren't sure what you would do if Bruce didn't wake up. He was everything to you, he was your best friend and your lover, you had known him for so many years that a life without him in it scared you; you would be alone, you would be isolated.

When he finally woke up, he groaned, and he pulled himself up slowly as his weary eyes looked around the room; he moaned softly when his eyes landed on you, a broken smile coming to his face.

"Alfred called you."

"I've been here since he brought you home," you said quietly. "You feeling okay?"

Bruce nodded, although the headache he was getting from the light that streamed through the windows was pounding. "Yeah, I'm fine... did... did Alfred-"

"Tell me that you were Batman?" You guessed, nodding.

"Shit," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't wanna tell you like this, I didn't want you to find out like that."

"It's done, now," you replied, "we can talk about it once you're up and about."

"You're not leaving?"

You moved to sit beside him, pulling him down enough so that his head was against your stomach, gently running your fingers through his hair. "Doss it look like I am? Bruce, we've known each other for years... why would I leave now?"

"Because it's dangerous to be around me."

"So?" You scoffed. "You think I care?"

"You should. If Joker or Bane or-"

"Oh, baby," you shook your head, trying not to laugh. "Nobody's gonna scare me off. Nobody's gonna fuck with me. You know that."

Bruce fell silent, as although he didn't want to admit it, the way that you had his head on your stomach and your fingers in his hair was making him more than relaxed; he closed his eyes again, going a little limp as the tension dropped from his sore muscles.

"I love you."

Tortured Soul: Batmom x Batfam

Warning: Angst, Violence, etc.

Summary: Before a big mission, you confront Bruce about sending your sons out to find the joker. Something just doesn’t feel right...

He had been searching for days. For that sadistic clown, Joker. His eyes were always glued to the Batcomputer, as if he couldn't bare to leave without believing he had done all he could, and he slaved himself all day, every night. Even though he had done it all, you knew a Joker was just laughing his ass off at this one, and his joke hadn't even started.

Relentlessly, Bruce was hooking onto every trail, every clue, every hint of evidence, every trace of where that clown could've been. He hacked security cameras, cellphones, police scanners, nothing, for days.

It seemed as if he had disappeared. But, you all knew that that was far from the truth. The Joker doesn't just leave, not without informing you first, in the most disturbing ways, of course. He was waiting, waiting for the perfect time to strike, which was so unlike him. He usually just struck and made hell on earth without even trying, it was a rather gruesome quality he had.

And Bruce knew that. And that's what was driving him to a dead end, Joker wasn't predictable but, he wasn't invisible either. He made himself known with every action he took, no matter how vile or cruel, he wanted you to know it was him. But, this time, he was silent.

Bruce and you had even checked Gotham Asylum, nothing. But, someone did give him answers there, Harley Quinn, locked away, awaiting her sweet Puddin' to bail her out in his own 'creative' way. She was going crazy, stuck there without her Joker to tell her what to do, to coax her in his violent tendencies, she waited for him. The information only put Bruce more in edge and you wished you hadn't gone in the first place.

The moment you locked eyes with Quinn, her grin faded slightly, the glee in her eyes faltered before she looked back at the Batman, who didn't show it but was equally curious as to her change in attitude. Instead of letting them question her, she proceeded to answer Bruce's previous question.

"Nope," she grinned, her face pressed up against the bars of her cell, "But, my Puddin’ is comin', don't you worry about him not showin' up! He's comin for me! And we're gonna have so much fun, this town is just filled with so many things to do! Like the zoo, the carnival, oh! And all that over our own little Gotham roast, I wonder what a burnin’ city smells like, hopefully somethin’ sweet," She laughed horrendously, throwing her head back as she teared up, missing her lover. "Can you believe that? We're goin’ on our honeymoon soon! There's gonna be some pretty lil’ fireworks and raining bodies all over, he said it's just for me, his sweet pumpkin!" She cooed to herself, smiling at the fond memory.

You pitied Harley Quinn. Almost always, all of your meetings with Harley was with her behind bars, left behind by her criminal lover again. You wanted to help her, more than anything, but what could you do? You knew she was suffering but she loved the clown, he had captured both her heart and her mind. There was nothing you could do, you knew the feeling, love makes you do beyond crazy things in the name of it. The only one who could fix it was her.

You and Bruce glanced at one another through the holes of your masks before you stepped closer to the cell, "Harley, what do you mean by the fireworks, the bodies?" Bruce stepped up next to you, the Asylum guards behind you both stiffened, being in the Bat’s presence has always been a little more than overwhelming.

"What is the Joker planning, Harley?" Bruce's voice was low and left no room for tolerance.

Harley turned, slamming her cheeks back onto the bars, most likely bruising the sides of her face. "It's gonna be a celebration. He wants all of you to be there." She referred to the entire bat clan, your expression hardened. Her grin then became forced and saddened, "But, it’s not for me. Not that part. He said it would be for you,” she looks eyes with your widening ones. “Mrs. Bat,” she revealed. “he wanted me to tell you, 'it'll be a killer good time'," She chuckled, but than the laughter grew and then it became maddening and loud. She angled her her head backwards before letting out a horrifyingly sudden wail, forcing the guards to surge past the two of you. But, before they could reach her, she had already begun slammed her head into the bars repetitively, blood leaking from her broken nose, her forehead bruising. But, she didn’t stop, she kept at it, with a smile on her face, until the guards pulled her away and held her down, the woman continued to wail.

You and Bruce slipped away afterwards, unable to stay unless you were to be questioned by the rest of the authority. 

Driving back home, neither of you said anything until you were slowing the car down and pulling into the underground driveway, "We're not bringing them into this," You said, he turned towards you as he stopped the car, the two of you getting out and walking around and towards the cave.

His head angles towards you, having heard you, slightly stunned, his brow creases beneath his cowl. “What?”

“This. There’s something not right about any of this, it’s not like before,” you admitted, Joker had never stayed quiet, hidden for so long.

He instantly knew what you were talking about, "They grew up on this type of danger, (y/n), they've faced bigger than this--" he began, you cut him off.

"Faced bigger than th--Who cares about that!” you began, appalled at his answer, how nonchalant he had said it. “This kind of danger--we should’ve never brought them into this in the first place!" You hissed at him, angrily, his lips set in a stern line at your outburst. "You're not listening to me, you can't just involve them in these types of situations. They're our kids, we should be protecting them, not hurling them into danger!"

Bruce didn't look at you, only proceeding to park the car before opening the car. "This is what we've trained them for, this is what they've been born into. They do this because they want to, remember that, (y/n). Not because I've forced them too." You opened the car door from your side before ripping away from your face. "We'll need their help."

"Since when do you need help, Bruce? Huh? You've never admitted it to me, to our kids. You're Batman, Bruce! Every criminal on the street is afraid to sleep at night because of you!" you stopped him from walking away from you. He glared at everything else, but he didn't look at you. "You know that's not it! So what is it? Why won't you just listen to me for once, and just let us do this ourselves? Leave them out of it."

Bruce then looks at you, his eyes burning into your mind, almost making you recoil. "It's not them I'm worried about, (y/n)," he began, his voice was brutally cold, maintaining his perfectly calm persona. "You will not be going. You should know better than this, that The Joker is after you and I can't have that clown roaming the streets with you as his next target." He then turned his back on you just as you opened your mouth to protest. "That's final, (y/n)."

"So, what? You're gonna send our children out there to fight, instead? And yet, you're going to bench your fucking wife?!" You fumed, stomping after him. "You can't just do that! I've been in this far longer than you care to admit, Bruce, and I'm not going to sit back while you send my kids off to fight that psychotic circus animal!" You seethed, stopping in front of him. "You know that the only way that Joker can ever hurt me is through my family, my kids, you! I won't sit back like a god damn housewife while you have them play soldier!"

"You won't be going anywhere near him! You hear me?" Bruce whirled on you, his teeth gritted and his eye's narrowed as he stuck his gloved finger in your face. "This isn't about your pride, (y/n)! And this isn't some twisted game, this is real, you will stay here, you will be here when we get back, and we will never speak of this again!" He glared down at you before beginning to walk away, but you weren't done with him.

"You're fucking insane, if you think I'm going to stay behind!" Upon using the deranged term, you had taken Bruce's shoulder in your palm and violently spun him around, the man forcefully turning before righting himself, holding back an annoyed growl as you fought against his words. "If you let this clown drive you nuts then you're just damning us all! We don't even know what he's planning, and yet you're thinking of sending them out there looking for a mass murderer without precaution!" You took a breath, setting your hands down into fists before calming slightly. "This isn't about my pride. This is about my boys, I don't want to run in blindly on this. This is different, the Joker has never stayed out of the sun this long, it doesn't feel right."

"So, if it were up to you, you would do nothing," it was a question, but a statement, that you were appalled to hear.

You gaped at him, "Of course not. But, I won't risk the lives of my family in the process."

"This is what they've trained for."

"This is what you trained them for! They're not expendable soldiers, they're our children, Bruce!"

Bruce took two large steps to you, his cape flying behind him as he angrily glared down at you, "You seem to forget who made you Batwoman, who made this team! I'm the one who started this! And this is why we exist! This is why this family stays in Gotham. To protect Gotham," he put his foot down, glaring down into your soul, his eyes cold and the bridge of his nose curling. "So, my wife, you will stay here, monitor the cameras with Alfred, the rest of the team will be leaving tomorrow to find The Joker. This is not up for discussion."

"Bruce...!"

He shoved you up against the back wall, his hand remaining on your chest to keep you there, your eye's widening in surprise as your back collided with the cement wall harshly, "Listen to me, now," his hands gripping your shoulders hard enough to bruise. “You’re staying here. I will chain you down to the bed if I have to. But, you won’t be involved in any physical way in this mission. Is that understood?” 

You don’t say anything, you can’t. Your voice caught in your throat, but your resistance to his words still clear on your face, you’d never been one to take orders from him and you wouldn’t be starting now.

But, as you struggled to find the words to overcome your hurt, he parted from you, his hand leaving you and the pressure subsided against your chest, physically but it only gets heavier as you watch him walk away from you. Leaving you with your thoughts and your worries.