I love the trope that Damian is always dropping Jason lore on accident to an unsuspecting bat family, but I raise you this: Damian starts dropping little facts bc he's pissed that the rest of the bats are so clueless when it comes to his brother
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Jason: idk why Alfred started making more italian lately but this is the best week of my life
Damian, who recently informed the family of some of Jason's favorite recipies: maybe he's having a phase
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Jason, off-handedly to Damian exactly one (1) time: yeah, i just run cold these days, side effect of being dead I guess
*several weeks later*
Damian: hello
Jason, staring at the frankly appalling amount to soft and cozy blankets piled in the living room: hi????
Chewing and gnawing on the irony One Piece continually shows with the main characters where they're doing objectively kind and helpful things and that's what gets them in trouble with the law. It's the selective application of criminal justice. The bias and room for corruption built into the system itself. It's delicious. It's horribly relevant. I'm obsessed.
This post was inspired by this screencap of people discussing Zoro being a wanted criminal over a shot of him protectively cradling a little girl
But it can also be with things like Usopp finally getting a wanted poster and the incriminating picture is of him freeing a bunch of slaves. Things like Nami's treasure stash being legally taken by the same marines who let Arlong terrorize her village for years. Things like Luffy's bounty going up after doing the government's work for them taking out Crocodile and saving a whole country from years of drought. And of course, things like the very first plot point, where Zoro is criminalized not for his ruthless kills (those were legal) but for protecting a child from a petty marine's untrained dog.
I'm sure others could add more examples but you get the gist. It's brilliantly done and I eat it up every time. Especially because it's still not black and white. Pirates do awful things. Marines do good things. But in the end, the only people truly free to do everything they believe is right are those who have already been deemed criminals.
Pirates do awful things. Marines do good things. But in the end, the only people truly free to do everything they believe is right are those who have already been deemed criminals.
This line goes so fucking hard op & I think it might just be the thesis for the entire show omg.
It's the fact that our real world is so terrifyingly close to what is happening in One Piece. Or maybe it was always like this and Oda is opening our eyes in ways that are more relatable and easier to digest. I'm in love with such analysis and the people who do them
In Chinese mythology there were ten suns that would cross the sky one by one. When they showed up all at once one day, scorching the earth, King Yao asked Hou Yi to deal with them. He tried to reason with the suns then threaten them with his bow but eventually had to shoot them down. Only one remains because someone stole his last arrow.
Apollo, of course, is a Greek god associated with the sun. Hence the awkwardness between them.
What I like about this is that Apollo is an archer as well, which makes me think this was at some get together of legendary archers.
i go fucking insane every time i remember hannibal's only condition on helping will with the red dragon was for him to say "please" like are you SERIOUS??? and the face will makes when he says it? THE FACE HANNIBAL MAKES WHEN HE SAYS IT???? death to both of them.
The fact that Peter absolutely stalked Stiles in canon honestly means a lot to me. He really is such a Creeperwolf about Stiles 💜
"You must be Stiles."
-> How did you just... recognize Stiles on sight? What context did you have for Stiles when you meet him in the hospital? It's said with such certainty, like Stiles has some grand reputation that Peter is delighted to finally meet in person, but how exactly?
"You're the clever one."
-> Sure he is!! HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT THOUGH? And why do you know that Stiles has Scott's password? It's not really a common thing for friends to know each other's passwords??? But you knew with absolute certainty that Stiles would know Scott's. Why do you know Stiles that well?
"Chess is Stiles' game."
-> It sure is, but HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT? Literally nobody else figured out that chess was a clue left by Stiles. Not his dad, not his best friend, nobody considered this, but for SOME reason Peter Hale knows that chess is Stiles' game and not the Nogitsune's.
Peter's absolute obsession with Stiles is genuinely so very important to me 💜
Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.
He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”
Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.
With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.
The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.
Blackmail.
His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”
By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.
He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.
You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.
“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.
“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”
Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.
Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.
“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”
“Ah, yes-”
“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”
Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.
“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”
“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.
Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.
As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.
“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.
“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”
You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.
Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.
“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”
“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”
He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”
Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.
“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”
He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.
“This is… very fair.”
Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.
He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and…
It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.
Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.
Make money laundering fronts.

“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”
“I considered it.”
“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”
Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.
Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.
Nice.
“You’re a criminal.”
“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”
Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!
“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.
“What about it?”
“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”
The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”
“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.
“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”
“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”
Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.
“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”
“He’s what.”
Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.
“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”
Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.
“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”
Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”
“…Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”
“I’ll see you out.”
“Of course.”
Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.
Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.
Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”
“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”
“I see.”
Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.
——
“Danny.”
“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”
Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.
“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”
Danny smiled. “No idea.”
“Uh huh.”
Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”
and another thing. I just had a thought of Tim being captured by whoever, really. honestly, the circumstances are not important.
i had a thought of Tim in danger, and he shouts for Jason. not Hood, Jason. And he knows he can use Jason’s name because when he gets here, all these people are fucking dead.
and i’m just picturing Bruce being on his way to help Tim, and all he can hear is Tim screaming for Jason. He’s about to drop down and take care of business, and then shots ring out.
bang. bang. bang.
he looks again and all three kidnappers are dead, Tim is untied, and Jason is holding Tim to his chest. “It’s okay,” He mutters, “I’m here. I gotcha.”
Tim would never dream of outing Bruce or Dick, or even Damian. There’d be someone around to hear it.
But Jason? When Tim is in danger, Jason never leaves survivors.
But also imagine if this is more than just Jason and Tim.
What if any of the Robin's know that if a real name is uttered its code that they shouldn't stop.
Jason shouts Dick's real name for the first time when he was just a pipsqueak after a human traffickers hands went a little two low. That man was dead.
Damian after being tortured for over three hours yells for Tim. "Timothy please" an entire stretch of land nothing more than ashes. Damian wrapped in his arms.
Dick who has only ever once called out in pain for his brothers. Screaming out for not one but three. Gotham ran red that night, under the fury of Timothy Drake, Jason Todd and Damian Al Ghul.
They leave no survivors, their names the last thing many will ever hear.
I bet the JL has a “how fucked are we” metric that’s literally just how many of Bruce’s kids are there.
Like if he pulls up to the alien invasion or whatever with just Robin, then everything’s fine. More than fine, actually, because Bruce feels comfortable enough to bring his eight year old along for the ride. This battle will take approximately fifteen minutes and they’ll all get shawarma after. Not fucked in the slightest.
But if Red Robin shows up too… hmm, okay, this is getting somewhat serious. Tim is one of Bruce’s most trusted partners; he’s the smart Robin, the tactician, the loyal one, and so if Batman brought him along then it means he’s at least a little bit worried about shit hitting the fan and wants one his advisors around. But the combined brain power of Bruce and Tim is pretty much unmatched (DC plot armor for the win), so everything will be fine, basically. Superman might take a hit, but everything’s going to be fine. Just keep calm and you’ll all make it home in time to Door Dash some Panda Express before it closes. So not that fucked.
It starts to get serious after that. When Signal and Spoiler roll up the scene, shit has definitely hit the fan. Batman’s worried enough to call in reinforcements and he’s probably doubting the League’s ability to listen/obey his orders, so he needs a backup plan in case things go really south. But with Signal’s abilities and Steph’s superpower of turning anything into a joke, chances are you’ll be okay. Maybe impaled or something, but okay. But still, fucked.
When Nightwing shows, the JL knows it’s starting to get dicey out on the field. See, Nightwing’s got his own team, his own issues—the fact that he set that all aside to help out his dad is cause for concern. On a scale from 1-10, they are at a 7. Above moderately fucked.
And… oh God. Black Bat? Most of the time the JL doesn’t even see her, but once she makes herself known and starts fighting alongside her siblings, they all start to silently freak out. Black Bat is a fucking machine and if she’s breaking a sweat trying to fight the Big Bad, things are definitely not going to go well. They start praying that Batman figures something out. They freak out. They are intrinsically fucked.
But God Forbid you catch sight of the Red Hood. The prodigal son is a legitimate killer, and if Batman’s letting him blow out brains then the JL knows he’s desperate. And a desperate Batman is not good. At all. They are definitely fucked.
Damian wakes up, startled. He doesn't remember what he saw in his dreams, and he is not sure what caused him to feel so anxious, but he knows what to do. The routine is easy and comforting; he just needs to find his brother Jason. So, he goes.
His bare feet against the cold floor is soundless, making no sound, and he keeps rubbing his eyes until he sees one of the doors open. It must be Jason. He always keeps the door of his room open, just in case.
There is a dim light in the room, a small lamp on the desk, where the stakes of paper are stored, and Jason is here, as tall and huge as always, tapping on his feet in an attempt to concentrate, while twirling a pen between his fingers. He is either reading or working on something else: writes down memories, afraid of them slipping away due to the Lazarus Pit hammering in his temples all the time.
Damian yawns and steps closer, tapping on his back.
'Akhi Jason,' he calls hoarsely. The body freezes, almost surprised — he is not supposed to; Jason hears him from the corridor, even if he is the most soundless kid in the whole world. 'I want to sleep.'
He never says he sees nightmares or that he is scared — just that. It always works.
Expect, this time it doesn't.
'What did you say?' Brother asks, his voice sounding so unusually stiff.
'Jason,' he repeats, more irritated this time. 'I said, I want to—'
When Jason turns around, Damian instinctively staggers back, his eyes widening.
The man in front of him is not Jason.
And for a second, Damian is panicking, until-
Until he doesn't remind himself that he is not home anymore. He is in the Wayne Manor, with his father.
With his father that looks exactly like his brother, only older, without scars, marring his face, and without a white streak that makes him look like a bird.
'Damian,' his father calls, slightly shaken. 'How do you know Jason?'
He swallows down. He is not supposed to tell about his brother. They instructed him not to.
But father has a familiar desperation in his eyes, the same one Jason had, when he was pacing around the room, muttering something incoherent, the cut out from newsletters photos of Bruce Wayne with Tim Drake in his hands, and-
And Damian shrugs.
'He is my brother,' he says, almost too innocently; because if he is going to be clueless about it, then what others will have to tell him? 'He stayed with a grandfather. It is a shame.'
Almost as if he doesn't understand what all of this implies.
'I was sleepy,' he adds. 'And got confused. My apologises, father. I shall return to my bedroom.'
Bruce stares, stares, and stares. And then, rubs his face with his hands, exhausted.
'I'll tuck you in. Let's go,' and a second later, with his voice sounding so familiarly small, just like how Jason's sounded when he first acknowledged him as his brother, he adds: 'Can you tell me more about your brother, Damian?'
And Damian tells him, of course.
He is not surprised to see the result of his work the next week.
I know the fandom mostly agrees that Jason is that one always unemployed sibling in the family, but let me offer you a slightly enhanced concept - unemployed sibling Jason, who is the busiest sibling in the family.
No one can get hold of him. Like, ever. And it is not like he is lying, he is genuinely always has something else to do! Something random and unexpected, and, honestly, all his family can think is: what the hell?
Bruce, frowning: Remind me again, why the dinner in the circle of the family today doesn't suit your... schedule?
Jason, shrugging: I have a book club evening in the nursing home. We are discussing Margaret Atwood's Penelopiad tonight. Can't miss it. Also, Jennet-
Alfred, confused: Who is Jennet?
Jason: One of the old ladies in the nursing home, duh... Anyway, yeah, Jennet is having a birthday. She would be hella mad if her favourite grandson missed it, you know?
Bruce: ...Jason, you are not her-
Jason: (leaves)
Dick: Hey, wanna join me for tomorrow morning's training?
Jason, sighs: Sounds nice, but I have classes tomorrow.
Dick, confused: Classes? Since when you are enrolled in college?
Jason: Oh, no. I am a substitute teacher in one of the school's around.
Dick: WHAT-
Damian, calling Jason in the middle of the day: Can you pick me up from school? Others are busy, there is an emergency in the town.
Jason: Damn, sorry, kid, but I am not in the country right now. By the way, do you want to talk with your mother?
Damian: ...What that supposed to mean? Where are you?
Jason: I was planning to visit All-Caste, but first decided to meet up with Talia. I am kinda in Egypt right now, anyway.
Damian: ...
Tim, already used to Jason's constant busy status, sighing: I bet you won't agree if I call you on the lunch tomorrow?
Jason: Uh, no. I have plans. But if you tag along with me, we can get lunch together later.
Tim, surprised: ...Okay. What do you have tomorrow? Knitting club? A shift in library?
Jason: Nah, graduation ceremony.
Tim: Right, you are a substitute teacher.
Jason: No, no. My graduation ceremony. I am getting my PHD in literature.
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