(So i just saw an insightful post from a different site and had to share it here.)
How DickBabs Contributed to the Playboy/Cheater Reputation of Nightwing.
a study on how Dick's character suffers whenever Dickbabs is being pushed by BlackCat-01.
Post:
I want to be very clear, this isnât hate toward Barbara Gordon. I just have to speak out because thereâs a very obvious pattern of Nightwing being written problematically whenever this ship is pushed. Itâs heartbreaking to see Dick turned into a playboy or a cheater in the comic community, and itâs hard to support the ship when so many stories portray him this way.
People often point to Nightwing Annual #2 (2007) as the "cheating Nightwing" moment, but that one story alone doesnât tell the whole picture, and itâs been retconned. There are countless other examples where Dick behaves questionably in his relationships while pining for Barbara. Whenever writers try to frame Barbara as his "true love," it often comes at the cost of other women in his life, like Starfire, Helena, Shawn, Bea, and others who get dismissed, insulted, or treated as placeholders until Barbara appears.
This isnât just framing or shipping drama, itâs a clear pattern that has hurt Nightwingâs character over the years. And itâs why I just canât support DickBabs, because the writing consistently makes him seem disrespectful, unfaithful, or manipulative, even when that wasnât who he used to be.
Nightwing (2007) Annual #2
Dick confesses his undying love for Barbara, cheats on Kory the night before their wedding, and then hands Babs the wedding invitation the next morning like itâs no big deal. This wasnât an accident, it was a deliberate move to erase Koryâs importance and turn her into a disposable fling.
Nightwing (2005) #104 and Nightwing: Year One
Dick is actively dating Kory but is still flirting with Barbara. He nearly even kisses her until she pulls away, and she insults Kory with the infamous "Spice Girl" comment. Dick comes off as a disrespectful cheating boyfriend, and Kory is reduced to a punchline.
Nightwing (2013) Annual #1
Dick asks Barbara to run away with him to Chicago while she has a boyfriend in a coma. Manipulative, insensitive, and boundary-crossing, clearly prioritizing Barbara over decency.
Batgirl (2015) #45
Dick tries to kiss Barbara while sheâs dating Luke Fox. Barbara stops him before he can kiss her. She tells him he canât waltz back into her life.
Batgirl (2020) #50
Barbara is in a relationship with Jason Bard. Dick continues to pursue her, while her boyfriend is irrelevant. It adds nothing to the story except making Dick look selfish. Dick is literally willing to homewreck for Barbara.
Batgirl and the Birds of Prey (2017) #8
Dick is dating Shawn Tsang at the time. Helena and Barbara are patching him up. Barbara flirts with him while heâs shirtless, puts her hand on his cheek, and remarks that his abs are "very distracting to her." Meanwhile, Dickâs relationship with Shawn is completely ignored, yet heâs still shown to be with her. Barbara is treated as the only one who matters romantically.
Nightwing (2000) #43
Dick was seeing Bridget Clancy during that period. She finds a huge framed photo of him and Barbara next to another photo of the two of them and leaves in tears. His insensitivity isnât addressed, again being used solely to tease the inevitability of DickBabs. The worst part of the picture is that itâs a photo of him and Barbara on the beach hugging, being touchy, Dick shirtless, and Barbara in her bikini. No, this is not a normal picture you just happen to have lying around your apartmentâŠand then having the audacity to hang it right beside the photo of you and your current "flame."
Nightwing (2016) #22
Dick is about to have sex with Shawn Tsang (aka Defacer), but heâs shown thinking about a conversation he had with Barbara during the act. Literally, he is obsessed with her and hasnât moved on, even during intimacy with his actual girlfriend.
Batman: The Widening Gyre (2009) #1
Dick says to Bruce: "Tell Babs it was always her above any of them!"
This line essentially erases every meaningful relationship Dick has had before Barbara, reducing his past partners to placeholders in his story. It frames Barbara as the "one true love" at the expense of his other relationships, making Dick look like he views everyone else as disposable, it actively rewrite his history, implying that the emotional bonds he had with Starfire, and others never mattered. Itâs dismissive not just of his past relationships, but of his growth as a character, like all the women who shaped him are irrelevant until Barbara appears. It makes it look like Nightwingâs moral compass and loyalty only exist when Barbara is involved, which is completely out of character.
Grayson (2016) #20
Otto Netz, a villain, is attempting to take over Dickâs body and mind. During this, he tells Helena Bertinelli that the only woman Dick ever loved was Barbara, and adds that she is far prettier than Helena.
I was completely speechless. This line implies that Dickâs past relationships meant nothing.
On top of that, saying Helena is "less pretty" than Barbara is unnecessarily cruel and dismissive. It frames Barbara as the flawless ideal, reducing every other woman in Dickâs life to a secondary, lesser role.
Although Nightwing Annual #2 (2007) in which he cheated on Kory the night before their wedding, was retconned, numerous other questionable moments in his relationships are still canon.
Since Nightwing is a property of the Batman office, most of his writers are clearly pro-Dickbabs. In order to make the relationship convincing, theyâll do anything, even write Dick as someone who oversteps boundaries, treats other women poorly, or cheats, all to frame this pairing as his "OTP."
It doesnât feel right to say this, but I donât think Dick and Barbara deserve to be a happy couple. Like they are right now. This ship was essentially built by rewriting Dick into someone unfaithful or manipulative and by sidelining or erasing every other woman who mattered to him. Thatâs why, to me, this pairing never feels earned.
(âI definitely agree with OP here.. this is exactly one of the reasons why i don't like Dickbabs, their relationship cannot stand on it's own without tearing down and undermining the other important women in Dick's life. It's an Insecure spiteful ship full of bitterness and hate for other women. It's rooted in racism and misogyny yet their fans act like it's a healthy ship you can't criticize.)
IÂ just want to add more examples to OP's points.
Bea Bennett was another victim of the misogynistic Dickbabs writers.
She was a Black woman Dick dated, a Black Rights Activist and they met during his amnesia arc. Even after Dick got his memories back, he admitted he was still in love with Bea and even told Alfred he wanted to build a life with her. But then the Bat-editorial came up with an excuse to break them up so Tom Taylor could start pushing DickBabs again.
They had Dick end things with Bea for apparently "her safety,â in Nightwing #76 and Bruce even encouraged him to break up with her by talking about âheroes canât be happy.â but literally two issues later, Taylor starts setting up a romantic plot between Dick and Barbara... and suddenly Dick is allowed to be happy now that heâs paired with Barbara.
It completely contradicts the reason they just used to break him and Bea up. And they made Bruce look like a pure hypocrite with him shipping Dickbabs.
and it was also disrespectful to Beaâs character. They had Dick move on from her ridiculously fast just two issues after the breakup, heâs already having lovey dovey moments with Barbara like he just completely forgot that he just recently broke up with Bea.
and few years after Tom Taylor kept pushing Dickbabs, they decided to retcon Beaâs past history In Nightwing Annual 2024.
They started inventing a story claiming Bea only dated Dick because she was being paid to watch him, basically retconning her into some villain/spy in his life. They completely rewrote her character and diminished her importance to Dick so Barbara can be framed as the âbetter,â more innocent option.
Itâs the same thing as what they did to Kory. They invented that scenario in Nightwing Annual #2 where they claimed Dick cheated on Kory with Barbara the night before the wedding even though that originally never happened. Dick and Koryâs wedding was in 1993, and that cheating plot was only written in 2007. Dick was originally loyal to Kory back when they were together before the Dickbabs writers character assasinated him.
Just like how Kory got retconned into a Meaningless Sexual Fling, Bea got retconned into a Villain so they can prop up Barbara as his One True Love.
Another example of them treating other women like Garbage is in Young Justice, where Dick basically got rewritten into a different person once they started setting up the Dickbabs plot.
Before that plot existed, he wasnât portrayed as a playboy at all. In Season 1, he only had eyes for Zatanna. They broke up off-screen in Season 2 on good terms, and their history wasnât downplayed.
But after Season 2 ended, they released a comic tie-in that introduced the Dickbabs storyline and suddenly Dick was rewritten as this âplayboyâ who was labeled a âdog,â someone who supposedly hooked up with different women until he was âreadyâ for his true love Barbara, they always say he needs to be ready for Babs first before Babs enters into a relationship with him, acting as if Barbara is some sort of SPECIAL Woman that he needs to change himself for her. They pushed this idea that Dick was a mess who slept around while waiting for Barbara, and that she was the one who finally âfixedâ him.
Calling him a Mature Man when he's with Barbara while describing him as a âdog" when heâs with other women basically disrespects Zatanna and the others, it reduces them to nothing more than distractions and sexual entertainments he was just trying to keep busy with while waiting for the Special Barbara Gordon to be with him.
âWhat makes it even worse is how Barbara fans and Dickbabs shippers celebrate these panels. They put them in their edits, use them as âproof,â and act like it confirms Dickbabs as some destined one true love pairing.
âTheyâre perfectly fine with writers slut-shaming and putting down any woman who isnât Barbara as long as it benefits their ship. But the moment someone says even the slightest critical thing about Barbara or their ship, they are quick to personally insult and label that person as a "misogynist" and publicly shame them for having an opinion.
âThey're the definition of Hypocritical Moralists and Selective Feminists. They pick and choose when âfeminismâ matters. They donât stand up for Kory, Helena, Shawn, Bea or the entire women as a whole, just their Favorite Barbara.
I want a season 1 yj Dick who just does odd shit. He doesnât necessarily do it on purpose, heâs just a strange little fella, and Bruce has never told him to knock it off or do things differently because he too was a strangle little guy (now a strange big guy) and so he sees nothing out of the ordinary.
So you have Robin meandering around the kitchen at Mount Justice after training one day making his favorite post-training snack: a tortilla covered in peanut butter and chocolate sprinkles wrapped around a banana. Itâs a real treat. He can only have it at the mountain because Alfred has told him he has to have proper meals after training, and Alfred always knows when Dick tries to disobey that rule.
You have the team watching fascinated as Robin gnaws on a steak, holding it up like a lollipop, after he said he needed some protein. Because protein bars are gross and bad for you and they are strictly for when youâre in the field on a mission. Theyâre a last resort. You wonât catch him eating one of those things willingly, they taste like cardboard. They tell him heâs acting like a caveman. He just tilts his head and asks, âIs that a bad thing?â
You have a Robin who hangs from the rafters by his knees, arms dangling below, body swaying slightly, because thatâs how he thinks best. Theyâre trying to figure out how a bunch of intel works together for a case, trying to connect the dots, and once he figures it out, he drops from the ceiling and does a flip(or two or three or four) before launching into an explanation. He accidentally startles Mâgann so bad she squeaks. He gives her a shy little wave as an apology, but doesnât slow down in his explanation.
You have a Robin who climbs to sit on Superboyâs shoulders when he wants to tell him a neat fact he learned at school, because thatâs what he does when heâs with Bruce, and Bruce has never once complained. To be fair, Conner doesnât complain either, but mostly because heâs just confused about why Robin canât tell him this from where he was just standing on the ground next to him. It ends up becoming one of Connerâs favorite things to look forward to when Robin visits Mount Justice, even if the fact Robin tells him is something Conner already knows. He just like show excited Robin gets, how animated he is, how much he moves his hands around while he talks, sometimes gripping at Connerâs hair if he starts to lose his balance from getting over-excited.
You have a Robin who communicates in grunts and hand signals when he doesnât particularly feel like talking, because thatâs what Bruce has taught him. Sometimes Dick just doesnât feel like talking. Heâs having a bad day. Heâs not actually as chatty as everyone seems to think he is, and so Bruce helped him find a workaround. It takes the team a few weeks to decipher all the different hand signals and types of grunt before they just ask him what heâs trying to say. Dick gives them a spiral bound guide the next day. When he leaves to go back to the batcave, the team sits together and studies it like theyâre going to be given an exam. When Robin notices them all perfectly understanding him the next time heâs feeling quiet, his smile is so dazzling that it makes them all nearly melt.
Idk I just like when Robin is a strange little bird and it sort of unnerves everyone around him while also making him incredibly endearing at the same time.
Recently, Jason's eulogy from the actual priest had resurfaced on Twitter again, and I had been restless ever since then. My Roman Empire, if anything.
i was wondering if you could write some nonverbal Dick when he was little and the the Batfam finding out when he's older?
okay okay okay but like. I feel like he just would not speak at all as Dick Grayson. He's quiet as a mouse. He might shake or nod his head if he's asked a yes or no question, but otherwise, he just stares. His lips are almost in a permanent pout, but it's not even on purpose.
And Bruce has no idea what to do. He tries to do anything to make him smile, to show any positive emotion at all. Hell, Bruce would even rather have Dick crying than him just being totally silent.
Then Robin is born, and his laughter bounces off the walls of the cave, "It's the Batcave, Bruce!" and Bruce feels his heart skip a beat. It's the first thing Dick has said to him in the two months since he came to live at the manor.
Dick's eyes are sparkling and his smile is wide and he's grinning at Bruce, rocking on his toes, giggling every few breaths. And Bruce's heart swells, and he scoops Dick up and twirls him around, squeezing him tight when Dick lets out a shriek of a laugh.
"The Batcave," Bruce tells him once they've both calmed down. "I like it."
And thus, all the bat-themed names are born. Batcave, Batmobile, Batarang, Batcomputer, and an endless list of bat-names. Bruce will call anything bat-themed if it gets Dick to say something.
Robin is chatty. At least, when he's with Batman. He talks a mile a minute, he has an opinion on everything, he makes puns so bad that Batman can't help but laugh. Criminals think he's a terror, and they groan every time they hear Robin's laughter echoing around them.
But Dick Grayson still barely speaks a word even a couple years after Bruce took him in. And when they're back at the Batcave, Dick Grayson peeks through Robin's mask more often than not. Robin is chatty when they're out, but not when they're home, and not when Batman brings him to meet a newly formed Justice League.
A ten-year-old Robin stands close to Batman, half-hidden beneath Batman's cape, staring at the gaggle of heroes meandering about the room. He looks up at Batman, his lips falling into their usual pout, and Batman just shakes his head.
"I know," he says softly to Robin. "We'll go home soon. Promise."
Robin tilts his head, his fingers twitching as he holds the edge of the cape.
"Well, maybe not as soon as you'd like," Batman says with a sigh.
Robin looks back towards the heroes, and some of them are making their way over to them now. Robin tenses up, and Batman places a hand on on his shoulder to help him relax.
"Robin!" Green Lantern greets, a huge grin on his face. "I've been wanting to meet Spooky's sidekick!"
Robin stays silent, but his gaze hardens. He doesn't look away from Green Lantern, and Hal starts to sweat.
"Uh, Spooky?" Hal says with a nervous laugh. "What's up with the kid?"
"He doesn't like your nickname for me," Batman says, his voice even. Robin looks up at Batman, and the two of them look at each other before Batman turns back to Hal. "He thinks it's unoriginal." There's a tug at his cape. "And boring."
"Oh," Hal stutters, and when Barry laughs behind him, he turns and swats at his shoulder. "Well then. Alright. Good talk. Oh would look at that, I think Oliver is calling me, see you later!"
He hurries over to the other side of the room, nowhere near way Green Arrow is standing with Black Canary and Wonder Woman. Barry stays though, and he holds a hand out for Robin to shake. Robin stares at it a moment, then shakes Barry's hand.
"Firm grip," Barry tells him, a grin on his face. "You must be pretty strong if you're able to keep up with Bats."
A hesitant smile spreads across Robin's face, but he doesn't say anything. Barry doesn't seem to mind, filling the silence easily. It reminds him a bit of his conversations with Batman, actually.
Superman isn't there the first time Robin is introduced to the Justice League, having to stay behind in Metropolis due to an issue with Lex. But pretty much everyone in the League realizes that Robin doesn't talk, at least not to them.
So imagine their surprise when Robin accompanies Batman to the Watchtower the next month, and Robin lights up once he enters the meeting room where everyone is gathered.
"Superman!" Robin gasps, letting go of Batman's cape to run at Superman. He stops in front of him, a grin on his face as Superman just laughs.
"Hello, Robin," Clark greets. "I've heard a lot about you!"
"All good, I hope," Robin teases, leaning into Clark's personal bubble. Clark doesn't seem to mind.
The rest of the conversation is more so on Clark's part, Robin's responses short, mostly just nodding, but his face is full of joy, and Batman is watching in awe. Diana is standing next to him, a gentle hand on his arm.
"This is the most he's spoken all week," Batman says softly.
Diana just smiles at him, patting his arm, unsure of exactly what to say. They still don't know much about Batman and Robin's lives outside of the masks, but she thinks maybe this will help them both to open up a little more.
And it is the start of them opening up more, because sure enough, Dick slowly starts speaking more as both Robin and even as Dick Grayson. Eventually, most people forget that Dick Grayson barely spoke at all, because soon enough he does a total 180, and he's so chatty that the world around him simply forgets.
But even as an adult, he has times when he simply reverts back to not wanting to speak. It's exhausting, having to speak so much sometimes. It's a defense mechanism, staying silent. It's comfortable.
He tries not to do it around anyone but Bruce, because he's the only one who ever knew exactly what he was trying to say, even when he didn't want to say anything at all.
But there's one day when he just can't bring himself to talk. He's so tired. It's been nonstop work, both in and out of the mask, and he can't gather up the energy. He's still only half-healed from his last mission, he's physically and mentally exhausted, and he doesn't want to be the one to fill the silence. So he just doesn't.
And it freaks the entire rest of the family out.
"Big Bird?" Jason asks after a a full hour of Dick sitting silently in the manor. The rest of the siblings are watching from the doorway of the room, Jason having drawn the short straw to be the one to ask him what's wrong. "Did you get hit with a spell or something?"
Dick just turns to him, his brow furrowing, his head tilting. He's curled up on his favorite couch, a TV show he's watching a million times playing in the background.
Dick just shakes his head, then rests his head back on his pillow and goes back to staring blankly at the screen.
"Are you sick?" Jason prods. "Do you have, like, strep throat or something?"
Dick's head just barely shakes, and he pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. It's a clear sign to leave him alone.
It's Tim who ends up pulling Bruce into the room, insisting that something is wrong with Dick, that he needs to be brought into the Batcave, that they need to do some tests on him because he's acting weird and no one knows why.
Bruce kneels in front of the couch, blocking Dick's view of the TV, and Dick frowns at him.
"Hey, chum," Bruce says softly. "What's up?"
Dick moves one hand out from where it was tucked under his chin to give him a little wave, but doesn't say anything. Bruce just smiles at him, tugging the hood down a little further over Dick's eyes and grinning when Dick smiles and swats Bruce's hand away to push the hood back.
"Sorry for bothering you," Bruce tells him. "Do you want me to bring you anything?"
Dick looks at him for a moment before pushing the side of his head further into the pillow, and his nose twitches a bit.
"Tea? With milk?"
Dick smiles at him. Bruce smiles back and pats his head.
"I'll be right back," Bruce says, and he gets up to go make Dick a cup of tea. It's late in the day though - he'll have to make sure it's decaf. It's not a patrol night for Nightwing.
"What the fuck was that?" Jason questions him as he leaves the room.
"He's just in a quiet mood today, is all," Bruce tells them.
"And you were just gonna play twenty questions until you could figure out what he wanted?" Tim asks.
"No, he clearly wanted tea," Bruce says, looking at them all like it was obvious.
"How is that clear?"
"It just...was," Bruce tells them. "I just know what he wants. I'm used to him not speaking."
"And how are you used to him not speaking? He never shuts up!"
Bruce actually laughs, and he moves into the kitchen to start making Dick a cup of tea.
"What? What's funny about that?"
"He hardly spoke the first two years I knew him," Bruce says through his laughter. "Never shuts up, that's funny. It used to be like pulling teeth to get him to say a single word."
Everyone else is totally baffled, they can't wrap their heads around it. Meanwhile, Bruce just finishes up making Dick's tea and goes to leave it on the coffee table in front of him, patting Dick's head again before he leaves the room.
"Leave him be," Bruce tells his other children. "He's tired. You can bother him once he's feeling chatty again."
You're classified as a villain in the eyes of the government. The truth? You're actually just a therapist for villains who refuses to break patient confidentiality by giving out the villains true identity.
I never asked for any of this. I never asked for my life to turn into something out of a James bond movie, with secret doors and flying machines and lasers and, most prominently, constumed people with the power to destroy cities with their minds (both figuratively and sometimes literally)
Not to say that there wasn't job satisfaction. The reason I hadn't left long ago and run away screaming to some other country was because I was making a real difference here. Killer Croc had stopped eating innocent people after a month's worth of sessions with me. I actually managed to get through to the damaged, angry and justifiably traumatised man within. Of course, now he exclusively goes after the Bats and other hapless criminals, and it's probably only a matter of time before he relapses, but I still can't help but feel like I've saved lives in the short term.
I even once had some extremely productive sessions with Harley Quinn, one of my more... difficult clients, because of her tendency to psychoanalyse you while you try to understand her, but refusing to change the subject and staying stubbornly focused allowed me to discover that underneath all that twisted up psyche and trauma there was a human being beneath it all. A tortured, pained, terrified and abused human being. It didn't excuse any of the murders of course, but you must understand, my job is not redemption or forgiveness.
I couldn't care less what you've done in your past as long as you earnestly want to be better tomorrow than you were yesterday. My job is to understand you and help you remember what it was like to be human, to get through all that rage and anger and trauma and help you find it a little less painful just to be you. And unless I was very mistaken there were the unmistakable echoes of decency in Harley underneath all that hurt.
Of course, there are those who have no interest in any sort of deviation from their usual genocidal tendencies, and those I cannot help. I cannot uncover any embers of humanity if there were never any to begin with. I once had the misfortune of a session with the Joker. Given my record with the other super villains some bright spark in Arkham thought it would be a great idea to toss me into a glass walled cell across him. It still remains to date one of the most unpleasant conversations i have ever had. Not because it was disturbing or frightening or anything like that. Threats and graphic violence is par for the course in my line of work. No, the one emotion that pervaded that interview for me was just ... Sadness. His case seemed so hopeless.
He truly did reside somewhere utterly removed from even basic humanity. The way he spoke and jibed and threatened. One session isn't enough to form any conclusions with most of these folks but I got the very strong feeling when dealing with him that this was all I was ever going to get. He was empty. Nothing he held dear or wanted to live for. A shell of a person filled with the opposite of whatever fills other people. Every other super villain I've ever spoken to, Captain Cold or the Riddler or Bane or the Red Hood, murderers they were, but they all came from somewhere fundamentally human. And I could help them find that place again. Red Hood was even quite charming. The Joker though, he came from somewhere.. Else. Nowhere I could reach.
The whole supers thing started out as a government affair when some secret federal organisation or the other had me kidnapped and asked me to conduct a psychological examination of General Zod. When you've lived in this age of supers as long as I have, being kidnapped barely fazes you at all. So they'd heard of my work with criminals and thought I could help them with a genocidal Galactic fascist? Fine, I could certainly try.
I couldn't deny that part of me was interested as well. How did the psyche of an extra terrestrial work? The answer was, identical to a human being's apparently. Consciousness seems to have an astounding uniformity in terms of how it occurs across the universe.
Anyhow, they found my sessions with him most useful, and furthermore I learned to understand that even these gods are driven by very human tendencies. Zod was a mass murderer true, but he was also a leader who had lost his entire planet, race, culture, family, and everyone he had ever known. To live your life so utterly and completely alone... His actions though undoubtedly evil, had an understandable, human, motive. I understood a lot about the man through our talks, and I think that satisfied the feds.
Another significant time I was kidnapped it was by Ra's Al Ghul, the leader of the League of Assassins. Apparently, his heir (who I was surprised to hear, was none other Gotham's newest robin; The adorable, angry little fellow who thought he was Artemis Fowl) had gone rogue and defected into the domain of his enemy, the Bat family. This one happened a few years later, after I had already gained some notoriety due to the Zod incident.
He wanted me to talk to the boy, to understand him and relate my findings to the League (of Assassins. Not the justice league). Now, of course I have my own principles, and he laughed when I brought them up. "You stand neck deep in quicksand and seek to negotiate a lower price for solid rock under your feet", he said, to which I told him it was not about money, but consequences. All actions have theirs, and I would not have lives on my hands. After much mucking about in this fashion I agreed to talk to Damian strictly on the basis that he was a child who needed help and understanding, and I was someone who could provide it. I had judged that Ra's wouldn't want me dead if I could be useful, and I was proved right.
Long story short, they reached some kind of understanding, though its specifics were not made known to me, and I was able to help the anguished young boy understand himself a little better. Of course, reading in the papers the other day that Bruce Wayne had a son by the same name made me spit out my coffee. It doesn't exactly take the world's greatest detective to put two and two together.
Between the league of Assassins and Zod I somehow became known in the super villain community as someone you could talk to. Before I knew it kidnappings became a weekly occurrence, until I put my foot down one fine day and told them they could visit me at my office or not at all.
Supers usually don't take very kindly to that tone of voice, but considering I knew the names of most of their pets and first grade teachers they generously not only refrained from maiming me but also set up a little office for me inside one of their secret meeting spots. I think some bigwig might have had a hand in its construction, Lex Luthor or Black Mask perhaps. Maybe even supervillains prefer their colleagues mentally stable, who knows?
So this was what my life had become. A therapist for super villains. Terrifying to be sure, but once you got to know them you could see the shadows of ordinary people underneath all that power and destruction. The risks of the job were kind of frightening at first. When a man can discharge a million volts of electricity as an involuntary trauma response you don't want to be the one discussing their most traumatic incidents with them. But they picked up on it.
The biggest issue with most of these supes is that they don't see non supers as people. They see them as scared and vulnerable sheep, to be exploited or threatened or robbed. The ones I talked to, I think they eventually started seeing me as a person. Because they began to mind their tempers and apologise after their outbursts. Some of them could actually be pretty pleasant when they wanted to be.
My clientele was something I had absolutely no control over. However, in all my time I was never once actually injured or hurt in any substantial capacity, verbally threatened though I might have been sometimes. Even the usually belligerent ones would come around with enough time so long as there was some humanity left that I could communicate with. Some of the friendlier villains even began to call me 'Doc', affectionately.
The most tense things had ever gotten was when I received a surprise visit from Deathstroke. As someone who knew the identities of many super villains, I suppose it was only a matter of time before one of them hired someone to have me killed. Then my expectations were turned on their head when he sat down and greeted me with a cool "Evening, Doctor" in his soft voice.
He went on to tell me that he was having problems in his relationship with his daughter, which he apparently wanted to preserve, and we talked for quite a while before he thanked me for my assistance and left. I've never felt quite so afraid, even if he did effortlessly put me at ease.
Another notable incident was one of my sessions with the Red Hood, who had been coming frequently enough that I had come to think of us as friends. Throughout our time I could tell he was severely traumatised. Our first few sessions had been tense, he had only been there to humor his boss, the Black Mask, but over time we grew to understand one another. However I could tell he was hiding a lot of significant details about his life from me. There was an extremely traumatic event in his past he wasn't telling me about.
It was a sensitive subject to broach, but one I was certain needed to be discussed at some point if he was ever to get past that trauma, and also one I was certain he would never bring up of his own free will. He froze when I mentioned it, the joker's terrible murder of the second Robin, which confirmed my suspicions. It wasn't too hard to figure out after realising who Batman really was.
To his credit, Jason took it in his stride and congratulated me on figuring it out myself. He doesn't seem comfortable enough yet to talk about the subject I brought up, but I'm confident we can make some real progress in a few more sessions. I'm certain he trusts me, and I'm certain we really are friends.
Such was the rhythm of my life until one fateful day when it all came crashing down. Literally.
I was making some real progress with Captain Boomerang when the ceiling exploded. There were bright flashes of light and incredibly loud bangs. On hindsight i realise they must have been, ah, flashbangs. I struggled to cover my ears and eyes and curled up in a ball. It was chaos. I remember very vividly the dust falling from the ceiling in cascades as soldiers in tactical gear descended on ropes and grabbed us.
My memories after that are a blur, and the next thing I could recall was sitting in a chopper, with my hands in some sort of hi tech handcuff device, some sort of similarly high tech collar around my neck. I could tell they were high tech because they had little blinking lights on them. Funny how villains love to put little blinking lights on everything.
Everything was hazy and unclear, and I blinked quickly in an effort to shake it off. The environment around me resolved into a clear picture, finally, the roar of the chopper's rotors filling the air. The wind was blowing my hair all over the place, and the soldier sitting on my left appeared annoyed as it got all over his eyes.
Taking private satisfaction in this petty revenge, I looked around, and froze when I saw the prone form of captain boomerang. He sat opposite me, his head drooping, similarly bound as I was. The man was clearly unconscious. I tried to draw the attention of the men around me, worried that he might be concussed, but I was studiously ignored.
I was worried, but if it's one thing you learn through multiple kidnappings, it's that the grunts usually don't know anything anyway. I scanned the soldiers for someone who wore the look of a commander, and came up empty. Oh well. I was certain someone would come around to monologue eventually. Someone always did. My eyes strayed back to Boomerang. I sincerely hoped he was just out cold and nothing worse.
The helicopter moved for a good while, and my eyes were beginning to droop by the time we finally began to drop. One would think that sitting in a strange airborne vehicle with some paramilitary force would be more cause for concern, but I've looked into general zod's eyes when the only thing preventing him from burning me alive were the crystal refractors fitted over them. Regular grunts don't really scare me anymore.
I noticed that we were descending almost immediately, and was mildly impressed when I saw the ground open up to receive us, literally. The pavement split along the middle, opening on either side to reveal am underground hangar that the chopper landed in. It was massive, but then again I suppose any self respecting villain's hideout would be.
All this time i was under the impression that this was some villain's doing. Maybe Maxwell Lord wanted me dead. Maybe the Penguin had heard that I was friends with the Red Hood. Who knew? I even had a sneaking suspicion that Batman was behind it somehow
This misconception was immediately proven wrong when I was led out of the helicopter and into a debriefing room of some kind, full of official types. I saw at least three men wearing military uniforms, and a woman in the middle of the room with a clipboard tucked under her elbow. Something about her manner told me she was the one I had to be wary of.
The discussion quieted when we entered, and only two guards remained with me while the others left, talking poor Digger with them. The woman looked at me with a gaze that could've melted steel. "So. Would you care to explain yourself?", she said curtly.
I didn't understand what she meant, and I said so. If they would be so kind as to tell me why they had me kidnapped, and where I was, and if they could let me go, that would be wonderful, I said. The woman looked like she was going to laugh for a second, but that illusion passed. Her face showed no changes in her stony expression. "Why we had you kidnapped? I think we both know full well why. I would appreciate it if you stopped wasting my time".
When my expression of confusion didn't lift, she sighed impatiently. "Don't you remember? We spoke earlier, in the early days of your career, during the Zod affair". I narrowed my eyes and thought back. Who had I spoken to that day in that government facility....
I inhaled sharply as I remembered. She noted the change in my expression with satisfaction. "Good. You're smart enough to be afraid. Which means you must know who I am". I resisted the urge to swallow the bile in my throat.
Amanda "The Wall" Waller. She and I had both come a long way since all those years ago with Zod. I was aware of her reputation and her exploits. The woman was a horror story among all my clients. Every Rogue or Super ne-er do well's Boogeyman. Most of them were still traumatised from their time in her custody. With a jolt of fear I understood what the collar around my neck was. "Are you going to have me killed?", I asked.
It took a lot to scare me, but Waller was another one of those people. Empty people, shells walking in human form with nothing in them. Just like the joker, she had no compunctions about taking lives if it suited her. The only difference was she wore a badge instead of makeup, and served the right political interests.
Smiling thinly, she continued without answering my question. "As to why you are here, I'm sure you've figured that out. You're a super villain liason the likes of which the world hasn't seen since the Court of Owls. Everyone's connected to you, everyone knows you. From the most basic street level serial killer to the intergalactic threats we intercept. Somehow, you're the common link between them all. I don't know how you went from conducting a single interview with Zod to knowing three fourths of the super powered underworld, and that is unacceptable. We cannot allow such a gaping void in our intelligence, for the safety of the world. You are going to tell us each and every word that passed between you and every misbegotten thief that's sat in that devious little office of yours. You're going to tell us how you got Lexcorp to fund your infrastructure, how you hid yourself from our surveillance all these years, why our psychic and mystic divisions are utterly unable to penetrate your mind, and finally, why the hell both Brainiac of Colu and Scott Free of the New Gods know your name".
I was puzzled. Who the hell was Scott Free? Waller continued. "Otherwise, first you are going to lose your livelihood. Then you are going to lose your life. We simply cannot have an uncontrolled threat to national security walking down the streets as it pleases". I looked at her face, realisation dawning. "That's right. From this moment on you are an asset of the United States Government, A.R.G.U.S division".
My head was spinning.
"We can keep you alive for a long time before we don't need you anymore. The easiest way would be for you to just tell us, but we have other ways too, if required. If you cooperate, you'll be treated fairly and given basic quarters where you may reside while performing A.R.G.U.S duties. If you don't. Well. We'll give you a few hours to think about it. I strongly suggest that you give us the right answer. You can start with names. All of them". I blinked.
"Every man, woman, non-binary entity, robot, creature, I don't care, every sapient being that's ever occupied the chair opposite yours. You know their identities, you will, tell us".
Understanding finally arrived. So that was what this was all about.
"You should know that there's nowhere for you to go", Waller continued, tight lipped. "We've had you classified as a super villain on the database. Your name, face and everything about you, it's all on the internet and the news right alongside Sinestro and Doomsday and every other murderous metahuman wreaking havoc in the world. Both the JLA and the JSA now have you classified as a top priority threat.Your life as you knew it is over. You're A.R.G.U.S personnel now, whether you live or die."
And that was when my torment began.
A heavy feeling sank in the pit of my stomach as the two guards escorted me out. It looked like I had finally bitten off more than I could chew. How on earth was I going to get out of this one?
The guards took me to a dark room, chained me to a wall and left, locking the door after then. To put it mildly, I have been in more comfortable spots, like Killer Croc's sewer for example, or the freezing iceberg lounge. To put it bluntly, the cell would have made swamp thing smell positively aromatic. It was hot, stuffy and suffocating. I don't know how long they left me there to melt, but it was torture.
A lot of what Waller said was still nagging at my mind. Lexcorp had funded something or the other? So it had been Luthor behind my shiny new office all those years ago? And what was that about psychic and mystic divisions being unable to penetrate my mind or something..? I was just a regular old human bean. No powers or abilities worth speaking of. And the surveillance thing too. Were the villains going out of their way to prevent Waller's people from spying on me?
Just what was going on?
And who the hell was 'Scott Free of the New Gods'? I was fairly certain everyone I had ever spoken to was, and I feel silly for even saying this, mortal. I mean, even Superman's gotta grow old someday right? I've never had Zeus or Odin or whatever they call themselves sitting opposite me in that chair.
Mysteries upon mysteries.
I was thus occupied for a good long while before it became just too stuffy to think straight.
I struggled to try to formulate some sort of escape plan, some way to get myself out of this absolute mess, but nothing came to mind. I was finding it harder and harder to keep thinking straight, and was just about to faint when the door opened.
I could dimly make out two silhouettes walking towards me, and felt the chains holding me up loosened. I would have collapsed, but one of the silhouettes caught me and forced me upright. Holding me up between the two of them, they drag -walked me back to the debriefing room from earlier, where Waller was looking at some screens. She looked up when I entered, waving an arm at the guards, who deposited me on a chair.
My muscles were sore and screaming in protest. I had no idea how long I had been in that cell, but moving was painful, and furthermore I realised I needed to use the bathroom rather urgently. Waller smiled at my discomfort. "Has it really been six hours already? My. Time really does fly when you lose track of it, wouldn't you agree?", she said, propping my chin up. I struggled to open my mouth.
"P.. People will come for me. They s... They'll see I'm missing, and they'll look". Waller shook her head, a movement so businesslike it seemed to have its own complaints department. "We checked your schedule before seizing you. Your appointment with Harkness filled up the next four hours of your day, followed by which you had no more appointments scheduled. The day after that is Sunday, once again a day you're not expected to work on. No one will know you're missing for at least two days".
My heart sank.
"Now, please tell me what I want to know, or the next step will be a psychic invasion of your mind".
My world was swimming, but Waller formed a clear core for it to orbit around. I centered my focus, gathered what saliva I could and spat. Waller didn't flinch, or indeed, react. "Go to he-", I managed. Waller tsk tsk'ed. "You really want to use the last of your body's water content on something as futile as that? I would be more judicious if I were you. You don't know how far away your next drink of water is". I hung my head. Talking was probably pointless. It was like talking to a- I suppressed a maniacal chuckle, like talking to a Wall. Cold and impersonal. "Just kill me", I choked out. "I'm not going to betray the belief of people that-", I coughed at that point, I remember that clearly. I promise I'm not just inserting the cough now for dramatic effect, I just distinctly remember it interrupting my words.
"of people that put their trust in me".
Waller exhaled. "Pathetic. Very well then. Psychic invasion it is".
She gestured to someone behind me, I felt the prick of a needle, and my world faded to black.
I don't know how long it was when I next awoke, but somehow I didn't need to use the bathroom anymore. The thought terrified me. Was Waller trying to undermine my personal dignity? Was she trying to get me to doubt my own reality?
Whatever it was, it wouldn't work. Despicable though they may have been, those villains trusted me. And no one deserved this. I was beginning to see that Harley Quinn and Floyd Lawton's horror stories weren't without merit. Part of me took pleasure in the fact that they managed to escape this place. It was just an unfortunate little complication that I had ended up here instead.
I was in a dark room, once again, surrounded by rows and rows of people sitting on seats with strange electrodes attached to their heads. From the way their eyes were glowing I assumed these were the psychics that Waller had been referring to. Speaking of, I could see her silhouetted against a large blue screen towards the end of the room, observing everything.
... Something seemed to be frustrating her. She was barking angrily a sheepish looking technician, and several of the psychics were gritting their teeth. Evidently she wasn't getting what she wanted. Waller yelled words I could barely make out. "- to max power damnit, I don't care about the damage to her psyche as long as we get the goddamn-" and then everything went white.
I couldn't see or hear anything except a strange, echoeing blank whiteness. I can't explain how i could hear the whiteness, but I could. The colour, it wasn't a lack of color, it was definitely a colour of its own. The colour filled everything until it slowly drained away, fading in intensity, revealing.... my office.
I was in my office, definitely the same place. I spent most of my day there everyday, I knew it when I saw it. I paused as I took it in. The green couch was conspicuous by its presence.. and the gaudy red and black piano that Harley had gifted me was still there... So this was at least five years ago, I judged.
I was a fly on the ceiling, as I looked down at the happenings below.
There I was, sitting in my swivel chair, talking to a client. I could tell that i was talking from the movement of my hands rather than the movement of my mouth. I looked at the opposite chair, observed it to be empty, and then switched my gaze to the green couch, where I was rewarded for my efforts.
A man sprawled on the couch. He was blond and looked like he hadn't slept in at least a week. Additionally, he fingered a lit cigarette. I frowned. Why had I allowed that? Smoking was strictly prohibited in my office, I demanded it.
The man grinned as if aware of my disapproval, and continued to talk. With a jolt, I could suddenly hear the voice. "-been an absolute pleasure, doc. Can't thank you enough for the insight and the, whaddya yanks call it?". "Reality check?", I heard my own voice respond, or rather, the voice of the 'me' down there. The man laughed. His laughter was mildly disturbing. He laughed like he was afraid that every chuckle might be his last. "Nah mate, they call it a come to God moment, I'd bet my last penny on it". He laughed once more, as I heard myself say, "Well, whatever you call it, I hope now that you know what needs to change, you'll think about how to go about changing it".
The man nodded, and suddenly his name sprung into my mind. He got up, shaking his cigarette over an ashtray that had most certainly not been there earlier. "Before I go, could I bother you for a drink?", he asked, still smiling. The version of me down below sighed disapprovingly and reached for the drawer under my desk, pulling out a bottle. "Really John, there's a limit beyond which it's just unhealthy, you know. I'm only going to give you one glass, and that's all for you tonight"
John. John Constantine. That was his name. The dysfunctional sorcerer. The memories playing out before me came rushing back. "Ah, one glass won't kill me Doc", he drawled. "Trust me, plenty of others have tried". I watched as I poured some manner of spirit into a glass Constantine had conjured out of the folds of his greatcoat, which he still wore inside the office for some reason. Why would anyone even keep a glass... well, glass inside one's pockets?? Wouldn't it break in his line of work?
Constantine took a deep quaff as I noted with approval that the me down below stoppered the bottle and put it back inside without touching a drop. "Doc, I've been thinking", he said without preamble. "You've got all these itty bitty secrets in your head, secrets about me and I'd wager everyone else in the world, from Big Blue to Ol' Death Breath". "Death Breath?", I asked. "Oh, you know, Batman. It's the nickname some of the demons have for him, and hey, it's pretty funny". I conceded that it was, but professional etiquette demanded that I not react in a manner that indicated my concession.
"So I was thinking, we'd all be right royally fucked if those secrets were to get out of that head of yours, eh?". I frowned at the implication. "Mr. Constantine. I assure you, I practice the utmost confidentiality with all my clients. No ears other than mine will ever hear the words you say in this room". Constantine nodded. "yeah yeah nah I know all that yarn, Doc. I'm talking about folks that'd stick their 'ands inside your head and scrounge around for what they can find". I stopped talking as Constantine's imagery... Evoked images. "..... Yes, that would be a most inconvenient turn of events", I said.
As I watched this unfold, I realised these words were entirely new to me. I had no memory of this conversation.
Constantine continued. "Right. So what I'm getting at, Doc, is that maybe I can do sumin about that. Prevention bein better than a cure and all that yarn. I'm not entirely hopeless in the psychic department myself, I'll have you know", he said with.... Not shame exactly, but definitely some kind of opposite of pride in his voice. The me below smiled, understanding his logic. "I would be grateful if you could provide me with some form of protection".
Constantine nodded. "I think I can whip something up. If I can do this right, you should be completely hidden from any psychic probes or mystic attacks on your subconscious for a good few decades to come. This spell is no lightweight. Thanks for the booze, that bolstered me a bit".
"Right", said Constantine again, flexing his fingers. "Alright. I'm gonna need you to stay still, Doc. Tilt your head upwards, if you'd be so kind. Look straight up, and no matter what lights you might see, don't close your eyes". I watched with horrified fascination as the me below complied, and Constantine began weaving symbols and chanting arcane words. As orbs and sigils appeared in the air around the me on the ground, Constantine looked up at them, and then unmistakablly, directly at me, the me floating above everything. His eyes widened in shock and one of the sigils imploded. He swore. "Ah bloody hell, there goes the memory of our conversation. Of all the-"
With a bright flash I awoke, panting heavily. I was strapped down to a recliner of some sort, electrodes attached to my head. Around me were rows and rows of unconscious people slumped in chairs, electrodes peeling off their temples. I heard the noise of approaching footsteps, and two hands gripped my head, hard, and tilted it upwards. "What did you do?", said Waller through gritted teeth, staring down into my face. I tried to gather the situation as best as I could, and forced my mouth into a half dead smile. "I would be more judicious if I were you", I whispered. "You don't know what other tricks I have up my sleeve".
Waller did not seem to be a woman given to public displays of frustration. The most she conceded was a furrowing of the eyebrows, and a vein that pulsed on her forehead. Releasing my head, she turned around and walked away, her steps against the floor echoeing across the room of unconscious espers.
Was it a victory? Did I win somehow? Unsure of what had just happened, I struggled to wake up proper, trying to wiggle out of the straps that confined me to the chair. Before I could make any real progress, Waller's footsteps sounded once more, and she re appeared in my field of vision, alongside a bare chested man wearing the handcuffs and collar of one of Waller's prisoners. My eyes narrowed as I tried to pin a name. The man was bald, and strange, eye catching scars spread across his body in what appeared to be.. tally marks.
Ah.
Victor Zsasz. The tally mark knife murdererer. "Victor, I'd like you to meet our friend here, who is now going to be your new best friend". Waller looked at me. "I'm sure you're familiar with Mr.Zsasz here. Or at least, familiar with his body of work". Zsasz grinned. "Victor, I'd like you to show our friend here a good time. Not too good a time, you understand. She needs to be able to talk. I want you to-"
Her words faded into background noise as my mind, finally properly awake, jumped right into turbo mode. So Constantine had outfitted me with some sort of protection spell. That had kept me in safe from Waller and her like all these years. Did I have any other such favours or trinkets from the super villains or questionable anti heroes that constituted my clientele?? My mind raced.
I had definitely received many such safety precautions and protection measures over the course of my years counseling, but did I have any of them on me now?
As Waller talked, I gently and slowly moved around, feeling my pockets for anything. I felt a small box in my back pocket. Bingo. It was beyond me how it hadn't fallen out or been confiscated by Waller before now. Maybe she thought I really was just some meek therapist. Now, I thought to myself, if only I could figure out what was inside that box and activate it in time, I might just make it out of this alive.
As I struggled to remember, another bolt of proverbial lightning hit my mind as I remembered the one fail safe I always kept in the breast pocket of every shirt I owned. I recalled the voice of its owner. "If they ever touch the ground, I'll know you're there. So don't go forgetting that you have them, ok?".
So that was two tricks I had up my sleeve.
As my mind raced, the background noise of whatever illegal facility I was in suddenly took on a tone as thematically frantic as that of my mind. Sirens and alarms blared as red lights flashed everywhere. Waller's face almost seemed.. Perturbed. In that light she almost looked.. human.
"Madam Director, the entire West Wing is under assault", said a guard who had rushed up to her. "The entire West Wing?", repeated Waller, incredulous. "This is a shielded facility. No one knows it's here, not even the president". The guard swallowed nervously, pulling up a tab of some kind. "Sectors 43 to 24 are all under fire, ma'am" he said. Waller's expression hardened as she examined the footage.
Turned away from me, I could see bits and pieces of it over her shoulder, and my eyes caught a vivid blur of crimson across the screen as Waller spoke. "Freeze that frame and magnify the image". The guard complied, pulling up a group of pixels that resembled a biker wearing a strange, red helmet, a red bat symbol over his chest.
I grinned despite myself.
"Bring up the other sectors", she barked. Remembering my presence, she turned around. "Cherish that grin. You won't have your lips for much longer", she said, pressing a button that disengaged Zsasz's handcuffs. She turned to Zsasz. "Do as you were instructed, Victor". Zsasz nodded, smiling. Waller turned and walked away as her guard pulled out a short military knife, handed it to Zsasz, and followed Waller out.
The sirens quieted down, leaving the only the virulent red strobe lights illuminating me and Zsasz. Zsasz licked the knife, bringing it up to his mouth. "I will take great pleasure in liberating you from this world".
I was afraid.
I was very afraid.
It took a lot to frighten me, that was true.
I had also been chained up in a room I could barely breath in for hours, and then had my psyche attacked by an entire posse of espers for who knows how long.
I was more afraid than I had been in a long time. I grinned, my teeth chattering. Fear was the trigger. My fear would protect me.
Zsasz approached slowly, twirling his knife leisurely. "It's been such a long time... Such a long time since I added someone to my body... I think I'll add you in here", he said indicating a small patch of unmarked skin over his elbow.
My whole being was vibrating now, shivering. I was terrified. Properly terrified. I remembered the words spoken by that man long ago... "Ordinarily this would never work for a weak human like you, but I've created this especially for that job, should the time arise when it's needed. You have to accept your fear, give it power over you. Accept that fear is the greatest power in the universe, and let it take over. And then, when you've truly given in to fear, repeat these words". I snapped back to the present.
I struggled to call up the words as Zsasz took another step forward. "I..in blac... In blackest day"
Zsasz continued, "I'm going to slit it open, slowly.."
"In... Brightest... Night"
"You're just a zombie, a dead thing. I'll liberate you from this world". He looked upwards and smiled
"B...beware your fears. Made into light"
The knife touched my skin. "Now.... Let me hear you scream"
"let those who try to f.." I bit my lip as the knife broke skin. "fight what's right", I got out, desperately
"Hahaahaha, now scream!", he yelled, twisting the knife. The pain gave me strength.
"Burn like my power, Sinestro's might!".
Zsasz froze, some vague sense of familiarity with danger warning him that things were about to get dangerous.
There was a burst of blinding yellow light, a corona of vermilion that exploded with me at its epicenter. The box in my back pocket burst open, the yellow ring within flying onto my finger. Zsasz was thrown back, the knife melting into droplets of molten steel sizzling as they hit the ground, and I... I couldn't feel my feet touching the floor anymore.
I looked down to see myself wearing a yellow and black costume, a familiar yellow logo emblazoned on my chest. I remembered Sinestro's words now.
"I couldn't care less about the lives of you puny things, but you did help my daughter get through.. whatever that was, and because I still don't understand it I want you alive. Here. Only the universe's most worthy warriors can wield the power of the yellow light. You are no warrior and you do not know how to wield fear. I have made this ring from my own, to activate for you and you alone, on the most minimal amount of fear necessary. Even an amateur like you should be able to trigger it with sufficient fear. Bear in mind that it has no lantern, and thus will only last a very short while. This will not allow you to engage in combat, but perhaps it will be able to buy you enough time to flee. Ordinarily this would never work for a weak human like you-"
I struggled to catch my breath as blood flowed from my stomach where Zsasz had stabbed me. Remember how the rings work, I told myself. You can stop the bleeding. You can do this.
I focused with all of my will, focusing my entire being on creating some sort of bandage to stop the bleeding.
I continued to float, my yellow light mixing with the eerie red of the alarms. Nothing else happened. I slapped my forehead. Stupid. Will is green. Yellow is fear.
This time, I tried using my fear of bleeding out to change the shape of the light. I focused and focused and focused, letting my fear envelope me until my hands were shaking from the mental strain. Slowly, the light shifted, a yellow surface of skin forming around the injured area, stopping the bleeding entirely.
There was a bright flash as Zsasz threw his knife at me desperately and it bounced harmlessly off the yellow forcefield that surrounded me. "No engaging in prolonged combat. Buy enough time to run away". I focused my fear, and to my surprise, I realised I could smell something sweet coming off Zsasz. It was intoxicating, an overpoweringly sweet aroma.
It was yellow. It was fear. I smiled at the sensation, and raised the hand with the ring on it. "Show me your fear, little man", I said, and a lance of yellow shot out of the ring, burning a clean hole through the side of his abdomen, in the same approximate spot he had cut me.
Zsasz screamed, his voice ringing through the chamber. Doubled over, both hands over the wound, he staggered away from me, trying to reach the door. I could feel my grin widening. It really was intoxicating. I aimed my ring at his retreating back. Some dogs just needed to be put down. There was nothing human in him. Just a shell. Just an empty shell. And shells need to be broken.
Suddenly, my own words flashed through my head, John Constantine's face swimming into view. "There's a limit beyond which it's just unhealthy, you know?". John's haggard face swam at the edges of my vision as I struggled to snap out of the throes of the intoxicating power at my fingers. "N... No. I won't have lives on my hands".
Forcing my hand down, I reached into my breast pocket, aware that my ring would probably not remain functional for much longer. Pulling out the seeds within the pocket, I used the last of the ring's power to blast a hole into the ground.
As the light faded, I floated gently back to the floor, my hands cupped around the seeds Dr.Isley had given me. Bending down with some difficulty at the exposed earth, I buried them.
I watched tentatively as they slowly germinated, growing tiny little leaves and forming into a small, bright purple flower. I smiled. Dr.Isley was one of my favourite clients. One would want to fight for one's own species after all. She couldn't really be blamed for fighting for her own, even 'her own' was more plant than animal.
As the ring on my finger dissipated into pure light I sat down, exhausted. The tissue on my abdomen seemed to have healed somewhat. Perhaps I had used the yellow light to accelerate my cells healing somehow. I'd have Sinestro and Katama Tui to thank for that. And I never would've even met those two if it hadn't been for Lex Luthor, who had recommended me to them, and also apparently funded my office.
I closed my eyes and smiled resignedly. These super villains were nowhere near as hard hearted as they liked the world to believe. My conviction was right in the end. There was a human hiding inside each and every one of them.
An explosion broke me out of my reverie as the wall opposite to me burst open. Someone had... Punched it down. Someone in red and blue. My heart leapt into my mouth. "Superman?!?", I yelled flinching at the pain. As the dust cleared, I froze. The figure outlined by the broken wall certainly resembled superman but he was... Wrong. His skin was pale white, and his hair raggedier. His silhouette was larger and his facial features were different too.
The giant smiled sadly at me. "Me am not Superman", he said. My heart stuck in my mouth again. Who on earth...?
Next to him, a tall, red headed woman walked into the room, a massive battleaxe in her hand. She resembled wonder woman more in the fierceness of her gaze than in her physical appearance. She looked around, spotted me and yelled. "Jason! We've found your friend!".
My heart, which was getting quite tired of having to do all this cardio over the span of a few minutes, did as many jumping jacks into my throat as it could manage, given its poor, fatigued muscles. Jason. So help had come.
The giant and the.. Amazon, there's no other way to describe her, parted to make room for a familiar silhouette of a man wearing a Red Hood. I finally allowed myself a relieved smile as he caught sight of me. Pressing a button on the side of his helmet, he removed it and smiled, tears in his eyes. "Listen doc, the only one of us allowed to have been dead here is me, alright? So don't go and try to one up me again, or I'll have to go take it out on Alfred, and god knows he has no patience for that kind of thing".
I couldn't control the tears of relief anymore, as the stress of the whole thing finally began catching up. "How'd you-", I choked back a sob. "How'd you know I was missing?". Jason grinned. "Stopped by your office earlier today for some advice, but you weren't there. Knew something was off right away, you practically live in the place. After that it was just a matter of following the tracking device". I frowned. "The tracking device". "I'm not going to apologise, it did just save your life", he replied, wiping the tears from his eyes. Behind him, the Amazon shook her head and smiled, and the Off Superman grinned.
As he walked, Jason gestured. "Oh yeah, this is the team I've been telling you about. That's Artemis. She's almost as good a fighter as I am". Artemis rolled her eyes. "And that's Bizarro. The best friend you can find this side of the Fortress of Solitude". Bizarro... may have blushed, though it was hard to tell with the dim light. "Now come on, let's get you out of that collar-"
He froze, as I felt a firm grip on my shoulder. "Jason Todd. Artemis. Bizarro. Back away and leave this premises, now, or she dies". It was the voice I had come to hate the most. Amanada Waller. I tried to look to my right, but Waller's hand moved to my neck. "Don't try anything, or you die. I have the detonator for your collar right here". I watched as Jason's eyes settled on the remote in Waller's right hand. I watched Artemis' and Bizarro's eyes do the same.
I belatedly realised that Bizarro's eyes could shoot things out of them.
Unfortunately, Waller had realised that as well, and moved behind me, using me as a human shield, as Bizarro's frost vision moved through the space the remote had just occupied. "I did warn you", she said, making to press the button. "NO!", yelled Jason. "ALRIGHT! Alright! We'll stop! We're done. We're moving out. Just don't kill her".
Both Bizarro and Artemis had tensed behind Jason when he had yelled, but they both stopped moving immediately as he spoke.
Waller considered him coldly. "You have five seconds. If I do not see you on the feed leaving this premises, she dies", she said. Moving deliberately, the trio backed away, Jason shooting me a last nervous look before he left.
At this point I was more angry than dejected. I was furious. Those three incredible people had fought through all that security and what not for my sake, and here Waller just sent them away with a threat and a bomb, and it was all my fault for being so stupid in the first place. How hadn't I seen this coming? Why hadn't I planned for this sooner?
A small voice in my head replied, "You wouldn't have gotten as successful as you did if you hadn't been alright with taking risks". I told the small voice to stuff it. I was mad. Mad at everything.
Waller released a breath I hadn't realised she'd been holding. "I don't care who you are. I don't care who you know. I don't care if you're Scott Free himself, no one, and I mean no one, can escape A.R.G.U.S".
I lost my temper.
"WHO. THE FUCK", I yelled
"IS SCOTT. MOTHERFUCKING. FRE-"
*BOOM*
I paused.
There had been a noise. It had been a Boom. It hadn't sounded like a Boom. It sounded like the universe was a person, and the person had clearly enunciated the word 'Boom'.
Holding my breath, I turned around slowly.
"You called?", said a voice that seemed too jaunty for the atmosphere.
Behind me was.. some kind of portal. A glowing white tube extended out of the air, opening exactly where Waller had been a millisecond ago. A man stepped out of it, wearing a smile that matched his tone. Waller was nowhere to be seen.
The man held aloft a cube, and.. spoke to it. "Mother box, disable the donating collar". The cube... replied. "Of course, Scott". There was a series of *ping*'s, and my collar fell off of its own accord. I massaged my neck, breathing in deeply.
He wore a suit of red and gold, and a cape of green. I recognised him immediately. The escape artist. He had come to me once when he was at his lowest point, overwhelmed by anti life, and needed someone to talk to, someone that even the villains trusted not to judge them. "Mister Miracle??", I asked, incredulous. "The one and only", he replied. "You're.. you're this Scott Free??". "That is my name, yes", he said somewhat sheepishly.
Our conversation earlier had been a brief one, barely a single session. A hero couldn't be seen after all, coming to my office. My usual clientele would lose trust in me if they knew the do gooders came there too. The man had never left his costume during our entire conversation, and, when I thought about it, had never actually told me his name either.
Afraid to let myself relax, I struggled to stay on my feet, the adrenaline bidding its fairwell despite my impassioned pleas for it to stay a little longer. My knees bucked, and Scott swooped in to support my shoulder at the same time. "Bloody.. hell... So you were this.. Scott.. person.. the whole while". Mister Miracle nodded. "How.. how did you". "How did I find you?". I nodded.
"It's the funniest thing, really. Harley Quinn of all people rang up Nightwing, ranting about how you were in mortal danger. I know you don't know them personally, but the we of the superhero community do know of you, you know. Most of us agree that it's vital that you stay alive and keep doing what you're doing".
"Most of us?". Scott grimaced.
"Batman thinks we should turn you in, but the others vetoed it".
I rolled my eyes. "Ol' death breath".
"What was that?". "Nothing".
"Anyway, Nightwing alerted Batman, who alerted Superman, who alerted me, and, well, here I am. Though for the life of me, I still can't figure out how Harley Quinn knew". I nodded wearily. So it had been poison ivy who'd saved me in the end after all. I mentally resolved to send her a bouquet of flowers later.
On giving it further thought I realised it was probably a better idea to send her a still living flowering plant.
"Now then, I do believe that Waller said something about escape? ". I closed my eyes and smiled. "No match for the world's greatest escape artist, surely". Mister Miracle began to walk forward with me, into the tunnel. "My thoughts exactly".
As we entered the mouth of the tube, I asked. "Waller. Did you.. did you". Scott shook his head. "Of course not". "Then...?". Scott smiled. "Don't worry about it. I've just sent her someplace she won't be coming back from anytime soon".
I decided to trust him, and we walked into the tube, which closed, with a slighty less clearly enunciated Boom.
And that was the story of the time the government had me classified as a villain.
I never asked to live like this. But it's not like I can say there's no job satisfaction either.
I do this because I'm doing some real good for the world.
And it seems that sometimes the world doesn't mind doing some real good for me, too
.
Toxic air and boiling lava danced with each other like two first time dancers who are both utterly head over heels for each other and also haven't told the other person yet, which is to say, they danced badly, tripping on bits and getting everything all over the place.
Amanda Waller wiped the soot off her skin as she struggled up the crag she found herself on. This new development didn't matter. She'd find her way back and ensure everyone involved suffered real consequences. That therapist and the Red Hood first and foremost. Perhaps Scott Free was a god, but he would not be the first god A.R.G.U.S had taken down.
Waller stopped to catch her breath as she reached the penultimate peak of the crag, looking upwards at the parademons that screeched and wheeled across the crimson sky. Apokolips. How unpleasant.
Resuming her climb, she gripped each rock with increasing proficiency, making her way to the very top of the cliff.
Finally at its peak, Waller heaved a sigh and resisted the urge to vomit. She was not usually given to extremely strenuous exercise.
Deciding to take stock of her surroundings, she looked up.
Twisted spires rose out of the volcanic crags as massive structures covered the landscape. The one closest to Waller had a massive banner hanging on its front wall. The banner depicted a kindly old lady smiling, bearing the ominous legend, "Granny loves you".
Waller did not usually feel fear. She wondered whether that was what she was feeling. "Well now", said a sickly sweet voice behind her.
Waller turned around to see a woman twice her size standing behind her. She wore the same features as the old lady on the banner, and held a whip in her clawed left hand. She smiled with an unforgiving kindness.
She grinned, and Wallet felt it unmistakably, fear. "Granny Goodness'll make a proper soldier out of you yet, darling"
The apokolips sky echoed with the sound of voices screaming, and the sound of just one voice laughing maniacally
Ahahahah well I spent like six consecutive hours writing it so I have it worse than you do. I'm very glad you read it though, do tell me what you thought of it
cassandra cain looking into the mirror and seeing her younger self... i'd like to imagine little cass would feel safe around big cass because she's become the person she needed when she was younger
thank you to @/JPVAZRAEL on twitter for donating to @dcforgaza!!! donations are still open <3
Okay so I've seen many people curious about what Batman thinks of Starfire. I've seen a lot of people say Batman hates her and that he doesn't trust her cuz she's an alien and cuz he's a dickbabs shipper. I will explain why those statement aren't true. That's not who the original Batman is.
Let's go back to the original canon before all the stupid ooc retcons were created.
The first time Batman ever mentioned Starfire's name was in Tales of The Teen Titans #50 (1985) where Dick and Kory have already been dating for years.
and behold
- Bruce never referred to Kory as "the alien" he called her by her real name.
- He knows his son is in a real serious relationship with her.
- Bruce never made any bad comments about her nor did he show contempt for their relationship.
- He acted like a kind father who just wants to know how his son is doing with the woman he loves.
The 2nd time he mentioned her is in Swamp Thing #53 (1986) where he defended Human/Alien relationships like Dick and Kory's.
again he called her by her actual name and showed no issue towards Dick and Kory's relationship.
The 3rd time was in Funeral For a Friend (1993) where Bruce greeted her and Dick. He was happy to see both of them attending Superman's funeral. And for the 3rd time he called her by her actual name.
The Original Batman was a kind father who respected his son's alien girlfriend. Who wasn't spiteful and xenophobic towards Starfire and doesn't compare her to Barbara. and no, he wasn't a pro-dickbabs shipper. That ship didn't even exist before they retconned a lot of shit.
That everything changed after Dick and Kory got broken up. Reason for their break up? The Bat-editorial demanded they wanted Dick Grayson back to the Bat-office. The Titans Editorial had no choice but to pull him out of the Titans books and hand him back to the Bateditorial.
The Bat-editorial didn't like the idea of Dick dating someone outside the Batfamily like Kory so they couldn't continue their relationship in the Bat-books. It needed to end. The original wedding plan for Dick and Kory got cancelled. They don't like Dick and Kory? Okay fine, no one is forcing them to like them, whatever.
but no they couldn't just move on and leave Dick and Kory's past relationship alone.
They just had to say something negative about their relationship and put down their shared history, didn't they.
Why?
Is that really necessary?
Why can't they just respect the love that Dick and Kory had for each other when they were together and leave it at that ?
Cuz they did love and care for each other. It was a genuine love.
You can ship him with another woman without undermining and invalidating his history with Kory.
Like what did Kory ever do to them to make them hate her so much.
After they deaged Barbara to be the same age as Dick and pushed them together as the new pairing, they made a lot of comics degrading Kory, minimizing her interactions with Dick, and retconning her history and relationship with Dick into a one sided sexual fling.
and they turned Bruce against Kory too. This is where the idea of Bruce being a "anti-Starfire" and "pro dickbabs shipper" started.
They created this retcon in Gotham Knight #43 (2000) where Bruce acted xenopobhic towards her, making him refer to Kory as the alien and belittling her relationship with Dick, something he's never done before. Just to portray Barbara as his one true love. Bruce has never even talked about Dick and Barbara before and now suddenly he's shipping them. This retcon is not only an assasination of Kory and Bruce's character, it has also done a lot of damage to people's perception of Bruce and Kory's relationship.
All of this for the sake of propping up a retconned romance.
Not only is Bruce mischaracterized here, Babs is also acting so weird and ooc.
There was no reason for her to moon and whine over Dick like a lovesick girl from highschool.
She was a congresswoman when Dick was still in highschool. She called Dick "a child" and "little brother". She wasn't interested with him, he was too young for her đ
Barbara already had a life of her own and own relationships, she dated Superman and got enganged to Jason Bard đ
Dick had a precocious crush on her but he moved on from her when he moved out of Gotham. Even the original dickbabs writer said they were never meant to be together đŹ
Barbara and Dick weren't pining over each other when Dick and Kory dated for years!
Dick never even once mentioned Barbara's name in the New Teen Titans books!
There was no reason for Babs to pursue Dick and vice versa, Both have already moved on to other people but stupid dickbabs retcons just had to exist đ
So yeah Bruce only hates Starfire when he's written by dickbabs writers and bateditors.
He was fine with her in canon before they pushed their dickbabs agenda.
Even in elseworld stories where it's not written by dickbabs writers.
Like in the animated show He supported Dick and Kory's relationship.
and in Kingdom Come he literally went to find the best doctors to help cure Kory's illness đ
There's no logical reason for Batman to hate Starfire other than just to shit on Kory and prop up Dickbabs.
the whole "He doesn't like her cuz she's a dangerous alien" form of excuse is also BS
Superman desperately scanning the street during a fight to find the most morally acceptable car to throw at his opponent, knowing that not everybody has insurance, and loss of transportation can ruin a life -
A wave of incredible relief washes over him as he spots the hard geometric lines and silver paintless sheen of a Cybertruck.
So You Want To Read Batman Comics But Have No Idea Where To Start
So: youâre new to the DC Comics fandom and are interested in Batman and his family. Maybe you already know a bit about them and are just looking to figure out where to start reading actual comics. Maybe you know nothing. Maybe you know a whole lot about one character but want to start reading more about another one.
Whichever it is, Iâm here to help! Thereâs a wide range of Batman/Batfamily comics (for all ages, moods, and types of people), and Iâm happy to meet people where they are and help people dive into comics. On that note, brace yourselves, because this is going to be a long post. Recs start under the cut.
âIMPORTANT NOTES ABOUT READING COMICSâ
Superhero comics are traditionally written in whatâs known as runs; an author gets to have an extended period on an ongoing (or limited) title where they (traditionally) write in 4-8 issue story arcs; think of these arcs as chapters in a potentially never-ending book. These individual issues are colloquially known as floppies. So when I talk about âTom Taylorâs runâ on the Nightwing title, for example, Iâm talking about the main author on the Nightwing title from March 2021-September 2024 (Nightwing (2016) #78-118). Every so often, titles end, the principal author on the titles switch up, or theyâll have âguest/interim authorsâ come in to do single issues or a single story arc.
These story arcs are then collected in hardcovers or âtrade paperbacksâ (generally referred to as trades, occasionally TPBs); both collect the entire story arc (plus bonus/behind the scenes material, in some cases) in a single paperback/hardback book. Trades are super useful if you want to read an entire story at one time, want to be economical about your comics spending, and/or want to read things in order. Occasionally, if a writer has a particularly long run on a title or a big company event happens, you get published omnibuses that collect an entire event or run (or part of it, if the event is big enough); omnis are very expensive up-front, but ultimately they tend to be good deals and are often curated well. These collections are all generally also released digitally. Frankly, unless youâre into comics collecting, want individual issues for their pretty covers, or are supporting a currently ongoing run, I would default to buying trades/omnibuses where possible. Itâs simply cheaper and easier for reading.
List Notes: Each character list is sorted vaguely chronologically according to a combination of IRL publication dates and the characterâs personal timeline. Big caveat that these are not all-inclusive reading lists nor are the inclusions inherently indicators of quality; Iâm just trying to hit major character highlights. You should also note that many comics contain multiple Batfam members due to the ridiculous number of crossover events and the solid integration of the Batfamily as a whole into each othersâ books in the post-90s era. Comic rec tl;drs are given at the end of each characterâs list. Most of the links will take you to Amazon/Comixology, but I also talk about various ways to access and read comics at the bottom of this post.
Secondary Note:Â DC Comics works in three universes: the pre-Crisis universe (everything published from the beginning of DC Comics until the Crisis on Infinite Earths event in 1986), the post-Crisis universe (everything published between 1986 and 2011), and the post-Flashpoint universe (2011-now).Â
In 2011, DC completely rebooted their universe following the âFlashpointâ event. This new universe (interchangably called the New 52 universe, post-Flashpoint universe, or Prime Earth) drastically changed many charactersâ histories, personalities, and relationships with each other (sometimes for the better, most of the time for the worse). The early years of the post-Flashpoint universe are an absolute incoherent mess continuity-wise; DCâs been trying to sort it all out over the past few years with the Rebirth and Infinite Frontier events (with varying degrees of success), and there are definitely some bright bits and pieces, but it is not my favored universe (though I will certainly recommend it where needed or when itâs good).Â
Now: letâs get started, shall we? Lists below the cut (please click here to view the most updated version of this post on desktop via my blog instead of on mobile/the dashboard, for easy readability and formatting purposes):
currently have a massive fucking hyperfixation on the court of owls. and my sister and i started to play arkham knight. so i mixed them and made myself a silly little auđđ