Latest Posts by continous-mistakes - Page 4
Duke and Tim middle child antics?
I know Jason and Cass are also middle children but Duke and Tim are the Middlest if you know what I mean
They walk around the house opening doors but not closing them
Their secret TikToks are of them doing increasingly stupid dances on patrol and seeing how long it takes for the others to find out. Right now they're at 232 videos and counting
They duct-taped Barbara's Pringle can shut. She blamed Damian
Jason forgot a bottle of Coke outside. Tim and Duke set up a science experiment watching it over the course of 9 months. It gained national recognition. The rest of the batfam never noticed
They recorded an album of Dick's shower singing
Their favorite track: Dancing Queen (L'Oréal remix)
Yeah Damian exists but let's be real Tim and Duke are the only Gen Z batkids
They dyed each other's hair and no one batted an eye
Dick bought two pairs of Ray-Bans and both went missing the next day. He blamed Jason even though Tim and Duke were right there, rocking their matching shades
They locked Damian out of his Club Penguin after too many failed password attempts
They also convinced him the Batmobile had a secret chicken incubator function
Steph loses her charger often but rarely notices because either Alfred or Bruce will replace it when she does. Tim and Duke, meanwhile, collect them and plan on regifting them to her on the 10th anniversary of losing her first one
Cass knows where they hid her hairdryer, but it's in Tim's room and no amount of survival training could prepare her for that
Bruce forgot to add Duke to the family phone plan so Tim hacked the account and added Duke himself
Sometimes Tim and Duke get lumped into a single entity during headcounts and just watch as everyone panics thinking they're missing a person
Maribat Secret Santa 2022
is it late... yes
did it grow out of control and need a part 2... also yes
but without further ado for my secret santa recipient @intercoursefluids
In Every Lifetime
~~~~~~~~~~
Life after life, death after death, whether they would find each other or not they knew the other was searching for them land, sea, or even the skies for them. Their dreams a guiding light to one another. The powers and magic practiced and hidden in order to protect them. After centuries they learned they would always share a birthdate, which in the newer ages of technology made it slightly easier to find one another, if there weren't so many more people now, and the gods never made it easy for them. But reincarnations are both a blessing and a curse.
•••
"Please don't take her!" He begged clutching her limp lifeless form, still warm despite knowing otherwise.
The two gods stared at him, watching him, waiting. They were the final two, creation and destruction, to choose their vessels. Yet here they were watching silently this mournful event unfold.
The boy reached for a sheathed sword. "I will find who did this and they will pay." He grit out, tears of rage and sadness rolled down his face.
"The price, if you are willing to pay it, is an expensive one." The god of destruction offered, as they finally appeared before the boy.
"Who are you." The boy's eyes flicked between the two of them.
"You humans really are a suspicious bunch."
"What Plagg is trying to say is we want to make a deal with the two of you." The goddess, Tikki, responded.
"The... two..." He looked to his side where the spirit of the girl in his arms, sat beside him. "What deal do you propose?" The boy didn't look at them, but at the spirit at his side.
"We want to use the two of you as vessels." Plagg stated bored. "Thus, the two of you will reincarnate."
"Then why say the price shall be expensive." He asked the two gods, finally turning away from the girl.
Tikki was the one who answered. "Because you may or may not meet one another in each lifetime. But if you do you will loose one another time and time again."
"If that is the cost I..." The boy looked over at the girl again, who nodded. "We are willing to pay it."
"We the kwamii, gods of creation and destruction, imbue the both of you with our powers. You shall reincarnate time and time again, and we will watch over you to aid your existence.”
•••
He had a mission to complete, but these annoying dreams would not let him rest.
He watched as a girl his age rushed around a palace of sorts. They weren't unsettling, just peculiar, almost as if he were witnessing her life.
It wasn't until he reached the palace that was constantly in his dreams that he understood them. Granted if he listened to that annoying voice in his ear he might have figured it out sooner. The roads he travelled became familiar, faces and places as well.
That's when he noticed her, a daughter of a feudal lord, his target. She turned and their eyes connected.
Their past flashed behind his eyes.
His mission forgotten and forfeited.
"Wǒ de tài yáng." Her smile was as bright as in the previous life they shared.
"Wǒ de yuè liàng." He whispered in response. Public appearance the only reason the both of them restrained themselves from jumping into each other’s arms.
It wasn't until the night covered the sky that he dared find her again.
"I was hoping you'd come, Hēi Māo." she watched him a soft smile ever present.
"Piáo Chóng, I promise in this life and every life to come I will find you no matter what." He held her close, whispering into her hair.
"And I you. If you promise to lead me to you in your dreams." He nodded into her not wanting to let her go.
"Only if you do the same."
Their peace didn’t last long. It only took a single cycle of the moon for the guards to realize that someone was constantly coming into the palace after dark. The guards stormed in and dragged him away from his beloved.
He heard her cries and screams trying to come back to him. But he constantly kept getting dragged further and further, her voice becoming softer and softer in the distance.
That is until he heard her footsteps, felt her soothing presence of her newly present magic near him.
"I can’t lose you again. I won’t."
In that moment they both knew they would take their lives, knowing that they’d find each other in the next.
But until then they wouldn’t fear the dark so long as they had each other.
The poison vials that Hēi Māo kept on his belt broke in each of their mouths, the guards to shocked to stop them.
The little voices that rang in their heads spoke out.
Find each other in your next life as you will always be reincarnated together.
•••
The gods did not favor mortals, less their children. But that was not here nor there.
She was abandoned by her parents, an affinity for magic caused them to fear godly retribution. They feared she was a child of Hades, because when she was born jewels materialized on her ears.
The fact of the matter was quite different. She knew, she wasn't of godly descent. She was something else.
So, they left her, a hunter of Artemis later found her. Where she was raised with the Amazons until she joined the hunt.
By then she knew she was able to draw upon the power of beings called kwamii, specifically the spirit inhabiting her jewelry. At least that is what Tikki calls herself. She knows that Tikki isn't telling her everything, but she knows there must be a reason.
She travelled with the goddess of the hunt until a fated day.
The battle was bloody, both sides lost lives. She was the oldest of the hunters there at the moment, she saw them as her younger sisters. When she noticed the volley of arrows heading towards them.
And that’s when the world shook the only thought on her mind her sisters.
To protect Artemis, the hunters, the Amazons that that raised her, that became her family.
She decided to sacrifice herself in order to protect everyone she cared for. In a matter of seconds, the magic exploded from her, disintegrating the arrows creating a veil that stopped the enemy forces from attacking.
she had never used so much magic at once. So much so, she know that it cost her, her life. But she also knew that she would do it again each and every single one of her lives.
She reached up to her ears and plucked the jewels from them. Artemis tentatively stepped forward.
"Amira." The goddess finally reached her. She was kneeling on the ground knowing full well she could not stand up, even if she wanted to. She was a warrior, but even she knew when she shouldn't push her mortal body further.
Amira raised her hand and placed the jewels into the hand of Artemis.
A much smaller, almost looking like a little ladybug, the kwamii of creation appeared to them.
"The world still needs ladybug at this time. Artemis goddess of the hunt, this is my jewel find a worthy warrior until the day comes that we shall reincarnate."
"You are a Kwamii, meaning you are a miraculous." She looked between both of them. "That is understood being of creation." she held the jewels closer. "Amira, my sister, until we meet again." Silver tears fell onto the goddess's face.
•••
She led armies, she sacrificed her entire being for her country.
But this, this was not what she hoped for.
Here she was shackled and ridiculed. Escorted to the gallows like a criminal.
"Joan of Arc, you are charged with being a witch and heretic. How do you plead?"
Head held high she stared at the man condemning her to her death. "No matter my response, you will have my head."
"The price for your insolence is your death."
She was promptly grabbed and pushed down. She heard the executioner raise his axe. So, she stared forwards, meeting a pair of emerald, green eyes.
Memories flashed behind her mind. Moments of blissful joy, unending sorrow, life and death entwined in a never-ending cycle of pain and happiness.
In that second, she finally understood those words spoken those many centuries before. It truly was an expensive price to pay.
"Mon Sol." She whispered, seeing her other half realize it at the same time.
"Mi Luna." She saw him month, seconds before her life ended.
They would always be destined to watch one another die, over and over.
•••
Centuries have passed. She and the others have fought wars. Seen the rise and fall of various civilizations.
But nothing stops the pain she feels every time either she or her sun dies. They may not meet in every life, but they know that they will find one another.
•••
Marinette was a normal girl, well normal-ish. (Tikki had learned to hide herself, among her chosen's families belongings, instead of appearing suddenly.)
Ever since she was small she knew she was different.
She's known since the little goddess Tikki told her when she was five. However, she's known since before. The goddess had always been with her, but she had a magic no one else seemed to notice. Although her luck skewed badly.
But the most intriguing was the boy she constantly saw in her dreams. Because of him she took several martial arts which she excelled in naturally. She quickly got bored of them as she rose through the ranks quickly. In the end she stuck to gymnastics and fencing.
But it wasn't until her tenth birthday it all came to a head.
Her Nonna took her on a trip to visit some friends in the United States.
They were in Gotham and were going to meet a friend named Alfred, but first dinner. Unfortunately, that was pushed back a bit.
She felt an all to familiar pull, but this time it was stronger, so she followed it.
She ran out of the restaurant when her Nonna's attention was off of her. Marinette ran following the pull that seem to be leading her somewhere deeper into the city. She doesn’t know what this pull was or why it constantly seems to pull her in different directions. All she knew was that she should follow it in this moment.
She doesn’t know how long she ran for, it might not have been long at all actually, but one thing she knows is she just ran into a fight.
The much younger of the two raised a sword to man who was fallen on the ground, but that’s when a third arrived. Nightwing, if she remembers correctly, kicked the younger boy which threw his sword into the air, which he then caught.
"The psychos just keep getting younger." The masked vigilante commented.
But her attention was on the boy, the force almost unbearable now pulling her to the boy, but she wouldn’t move. In this match between the two, the boy was completely blinded by anger, Nightwing attempting to subdue him. Snarls and insults, comments being hurled as the two fought, but she couldn't hear.
The boy looked around trying to find an opening, trying to find anything, and that's when he found her. They’re eyes met and he stopped. The blinding anger faded from him as he froze watching her.
And she knows what was going on in his mind. Because the same was happening to her, all the memories of their past lives, every interaction the two ever had was laid out for their minds to see.
But that give Nightwing the opportunity that he needed.
"Mon sol." Was barely audibly whispered and she was again frozen in her tracks.
Nightwing however never once noticed her, seeing as his back was turned to her a majority of the time, and is now presently. Her and was promptly tied up, gagged, and then hung from the light pole like a piñata. And unfortunately, Nightwing still hasn’t noticed her, as he started a call on speaker.
"Talk." A gravely monotone voice answered.
"Missing something?" Nightwing asked, annoyance and disbelief clear in his voice.
"Not in the mood for games." Came the response on the phone.
"I have a kid here." Nightwing paused looking up at the boy hanging in the air. "Says he's your son."
"I'll be right there."
The call ended, And Nightwing finally seemed to look around, thus noticing her.
He froze, and more than likely for good reason. Marinette knows that he doesn’t know how long she’s been there, if from the beginning, or if she just arrived, or if she’s heard the entire conversation. She stood there quietly staring between the vigilante, the man unconscious on the ground, and her soulmate strung up in the air.
She didn’t say a word Nightwing straighten himself up and took a step towards her. She instinctively took a step back, still reeling from the events that just flipped through her mind and the fight she had just witnessed.
Oddly enough that’s exactly when a few others showed up. First was the Batman, who went towards the other two.
Nightwing stepped in front of her blocking them.
That is when her Nonna finally found her.
"My little faerie, what are you doing? I turned around and you were gone." Her Nonna began to scold her. Marinette barely processing what is being told said to her.
"Sorry I..." The words got stuck in her throat, not knowing what actually say. "I don’t know what happened?"
It was a lie she knew it was a lie, but there was truth in it. She didn’t know why she was pulled when she started to run, but now she did. She doesn’t know why she stayed, when she could just easily turn around, instead of listening to the conversation.
"Miss?"
Nightwing again approached the two of them blocking her view of the Batman and her sol.
"Thank you for making sure she is safe. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been here." Her Nonna began to thank Nightwing. Not noticing noticing the man on the ground with a blade near him.
Nightwing looked unsure of how to proceed, as if wanting to ask Marinette more but not knowing if he should. He looked towards Marinette, and she gently shook her head, a signal to him not to say a thing.
"Thank you Monsieur Nightwing. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t arrive on time." She looked up at him her eyes big, a small smile on her face, acting slightly saved as ice and memories swarmed her.
"Nightwing." The Bat's voice sounded from behind them the man, previously on the ground, cuffed sirens heard approaching.
"Right. Be careful the both of you Gotham is dangerous."
With that Nightwing turned and walked towards the Bat.
She tried to find a boy again but couldn’t. She assumes that he is inside the Batmobile but isn’t completely sure. She’s turned and was led away from the scene until they reach the restaurant, her appetite gone, mind racing.
"My little Faerie?" Her Nona pulled her attention. "Don’t forget you’re to meet my friend, and his family."
"Right Nonna."
---
The entire car ride back to the manner was silent.
His blind anger and vengeance no longer consumed his mind.
His qamari was here. In this very city. But he knew he couldn't escape this place twice in the same night.
So, he stood silently watching the fake son receive stitches, by his father‘s butler, Pennyworth. It wasn’t until then that he noticed, the ever present familiar soul, the way he moved, the energy that he radiated, it was like his own.
In that moment he clenched his always gloved hands. A ring has been embedded into his skin and with it an annoying little presence called a Kwamii, named Plagg. Because of his constant company, the small pocket god destruction, enhanced Damian's abilities, greater than the League expected from him.
Fortune always seems to be in his favor, Plagg said it’s because he lacked it, today he realized what Plagg had meant. He was a reincarnation, he was a miraculous, just like Pennyworth seems to be.
They were talking but he wasn’t exactly keeping pace with their conversation.
"Are you all right Master Dick?" The fake grimaced before answering.
"I took the cut; I can take the stitch."
"Maybe you need more anesthetic." He didn’t mean to say it, it’s not that he actually cared about him, he just didn’t want to see him in pain anymore, pain he caused.
"And maybe you need to find..."
"Master Dick!" Pennyworth cut the fake son off.
He was going to say something else I stopped himself.
"The Blood Sun." He whispered back, the empty cave allowing the two men down below to hear him.
"Blood thirsty, more like it." He heard the fake say.
He didn’t deny it, he knew it was true.
In every life he had blood was stained on his hands. And nothing he says or does can change that. He clenched his every loved hand feeling the cold metal of the ring burn into his skin. But he turned and walked away.
He went up to the room that was prepared for him, sat in the middle of the bed back pressed up against the headboard, and began to meditate.
Well in reality he was speaking with Plagg. Now that his memories were unlocked he would be able to tell him more, but did he really want to hear it is the question.
"Well, this was earlier than ever before." A nasally voice almost cackled in front of him.
"Tt. I realize that but why? Why did I never notice she was so close?" the asked aloud.
"You know the answer kid. You were so blinded by your rage and hatred and the need for vengeance, you blocked everything else. You blocked her until she could no longer be blocked from you. You blocked the other miraculous who has been trying to help you since you got here. What else is there to say?"
"But I didn’t mean to." He was being to tear, voice caught in his throat, as a single line from his past seemed to hold him. "I promised I would always find her, but I didn’t even try in this life." His tears fell onto his cheeks, Plagg not knowing what else to do. Simply curled up into a ball on the top of his head.
"You did your best kid with what you were given, don’t hesitate to be happy. To be a kid for once."
"But…"
"No buts." with that the two sat in comfortable silence.
A knock was at the door and Pennyworth slowly opened it. Plagg disappeared from this plane.
"We are to have guests over tonight Master Damien. If you would be so gracious to appear tonight."
He nodded. Pennyworth was closing the door when his curiosity finally couldn’t be restrained.
"Pennyworth." The man looked back in. "You are miraculous, aren’t you?"
Upon hearing this a sly smile appeared on the older man’s lips.
"As are you, although that took longer for you to realize than I expected." With that Pennyworth left the room.
But he knew she was still near him.
He got dressed in more civilian attire and went down, mostly following Pennyworth's energy signature. He went down and ended up in the kitchen where he saw Pennyworth preparing a cake. Damian never once said it was his birthday, he doesn't believe it’s anyone else in the house, so deduction must mean that it’s for the people who are visiting.
"Who are we to celebrate?"
The older gentleman looked up and simply answered him in kind.
"The granddaughter of a friend who is visiting today. I expect you to be on your best behavior understood Master Damian."
"Only if the fake acts accordingly."
That’s when he noticed a plain vanilla cake with pink buttercream and strawberries.
"She likes to have strawberries with dark chocolate."
He doesn’t know why he said it, it probably made no sense to Pennyworth, because he had never met her, he had never met her. And it probably wasn’t for her anyways. The older man looked up at him.
"Sorry." And Damian turned on his heel and over towards one of the rooms closest to the front door.
He was miserable. The only thing he wanted to do was be outside of this house searching for her, some thing, Plagg specifically, told him he should sit still. And one thing he’s learned over these last few millennia, is to listen when Plagg is serious.
So, he sat down, the fake son came in with him, almost like a guard dog. But he didn’t care.
"The people coming over are civilians, they don’t know about the bat , they are not enemies understood."
The older man didn't say it in a condescending or rude tone, it was more like casual conversation.
"I know how to be have myself." He made quick eye contact and then went around and studied the room.
The doorbell rang and both of them moved to exit the room. Damian stood between the fake and his father, white Pennyworth opened the door.
"Alfie, my friend it's been much much too long." A cheerful voice rang in the hallway. "And that’s a little Brucie. My he's grown."
Pennyworth chuckled. "You haven’t changed at all, Gina." A smile on his face. "And who is this?"
Alfred motioned to a girl who was still hidden behind the woman named Gina.
"My granddaughter." The woman stepped aside and then behind the girl, the woman placing her hands on both of the girl's shoulders. "Marinette, my little faerie."
He took a step forward, but someone caught his shoulder, well actually two people. Introductions were promptly made, all the while each one of his shoulders were being held back by the fake and his father respectively, almost as if they were scared that he would attack her.
But what surprised the men however was when they sat down, in the parlor, she sat next to him.
It was comforting speaking with her again, someone he's known for so long/she is his true love, his other half of his soul. He felt at ease with her for the first time in this life.
Their conversations turned from shared memories of the past to those the other never met, the friends they made, the people they gained to trust, as well as those they hope they will see again. What they didn’t notice was the room became silent except for them. Marinette was reminiscing of someone she came to trust from a place called Paradise Island a goddess and a warrior, but that is when Alfred interjected.
"Have you visited Paradise Island before Miss Marinette?"
This shocked the other two men in the room, for a reason that he will more than likely understand very soon, however Gina was the first to respond.
"Alfie, I don’t know how you kept up with them, that was Greek to me."
"Indeed, it was."
Came in response to which both he and Marinette realized they had been bouncing through the different tongues they learned throughout their lifetimes.
"I unfortunately couldn’t understand the first part of it. Do either of you mind elaborating?"
He and Marinette shared a look, but it was her who spoke first. "What is there to say? Anywhere you visit can be a paradise if that’s how you see it."
“That is one way to see it.” His father nodded, but he noticed the fake watching them studiously.
“That’s my little faerie, always looking on the bright side.”
“I’ve learned it’s not good to regret anything.” She smiled looking back at him.
~~~~~~~~~~
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@maribat-secret-santa
I love the headcanon that none of the Bats are supers, but over time? Gotham is slowly messing them up, one by one.
Bruce smiles at Clark one day in the Cave, and his eyes reflect the light back like a wolf's
Jason suddenly has tiny fangs, but nobody has the nerve to mention it
Alfred literally doesn't die
Dick can jump higher and faster than ever before, but barely notices it
Tim is awake for three days straight and doesn't blink
They're all subtly, but noticeably different. Gotham-blessed, or cursed, or something in between.
Damian high on anesthetic after a minor surgery, in the Cave’s Medbay: You shouldn’t be holding my hand.
Marinette, sitting next to him: And why is that?
Damian, with an adorable pout: Because my girlfriend will be very upset… I’m upset. I don’t like holding hands that aren’t hers.
Marinette, holding in laughter, and trying to subtly film on her phone: Oh, I think your girlfriend will be okay with it. 
Damian: Really?
Marinette, smiling: Yep, because I’m your girlfriend.
Damian, eyes widening: No, you can’t be…
Marinette: Why not?
Damian: Because you’re too pretty. And nice. You’re holding my hand and making me feel safe. I don’t deserve a girlfriend that nice. I’m not nice enough.
Marinette, holding back tears, kisses him on the forehead: You deserve all the nicest things in the world mon cher.
Daminette Headcanon #??
Meet cute/meet disaster opportunity in Gotham. So Marinette is new to the city, and her stash of fabric and notions is completely depleted because she had to downsize when moving across the Atlantic (she had way too much stuff to ship with her.) So she's trying to find Gotham's fabric district which does exist... but it's frequented mainly by villains or henchpeople who need fabric for their costumes. Otherwise, everyone just buys online. Marnette though needs to see her stuff in person, needs to feel the fabric and test stretch and shit. So she's struggling down the street burdened by like five bags and a whole bolt of fabric and Damian (overachiever that he is) is doing an early evening patrol as Robin, and sees this little slip-of-nothing girl walking out of a fabric store that is definitely only frequented by villains and is a front for a local gang, and thinks 'oh, this is a new villain and/or she's being blackmailed to create new outfits' and so he prepares to swing down and interrogate her. Now Marinette, total badass that she is, can handle herself (yes, all her friends and family told her she shouldn't move to Gotham, but she's a hero too and Gotham ain't got shit on Hawkmoth) and she knows this isn't the best part of town, but it's the only place that has fabric stores, and the prices are really good so of course, she's gonna stock up. She knows she looks like an easy target but she is not. But bad guys don't know that, so a pair of idiots come up to her on the street and start harassing her and trying to rob her. One goes to hit her, and she totally backhands them and then knocks them both out flat in under 30 seconds. Not a hair out of place and all of her purchases are still safe and sound. And Robin is shocked up above (and kinda turned on) and is now definitely thinking that this girl is the newest up-and-coming supervillain, and he hears her mutter, "these fools have nothing on Paris." And so he swings down, intrigued, and wanting to know who this new danger is. He doesn't want to be too sus at first though and asks if she's fine (Richard would be proud of how far he's come at interpersonal skills) Of course, Marinette knows who the local heroes are (she doesn't want to step on anyone's toes after all) and so is very friendly at first, and basically says, "I'm okay and don't need any help, after all, you don't survive long in Paris if you can't handle yourself, but it's nice to know Gotham's heroes are looking out." And Robin doesn't know if that's meant to be a threat or sincere. And so he offers to walk her home because that's what a hero would do with a normal civilian right?? Not one that he was trying to gauge what their notorious schemes are, right?? But Marinette easily agrees, and in her mind, is just happy to get a read on the local heroes, and just chats with Robin the whole way home about Gotham and what amazing styles she can get from its local design and architecture. And Damian is so?? confused??? Is this girl an artist? IS she a villain artist?? What kind of schemes are going to happen here. And so he obviously has to know more about this amazi- he means potentially dangerous woman, and so when he sees her safely home asks to maybe, visit? Again? And Marinette is all like 😁😁 Sure, happy to help Gotham's heroes however she can. Damian is like 'perfect, I have managed to open a line of inquiry into a potential threat, now I just need to visit often- I mean monitor her carefully to figure out her plans' and Marinette is just like, 'The Gotham heroes are much more welcoming than I thought they would be. I got fabric, beat up some baddies, and made a new friend all in one evening!'
Their falling in love is kinda inevitable.
Since I've got nothing to do, I decided to share a scene from the comics that destroyed me.
But before that I need to give you some information. This post is about Damian's death.
Before his fight with Heretic, Bruce orders Damian to stay inside because it's dangerous.
But of course he doesn't stay in. Instead he tells Alfred that he needs to help Bruce. And eventually he convinces Alfred.
We all know what happens after that. Damian dies by the hands of the Heretic.
Then time passes, and everyone is grieving. But Bruce is devastated and builds a simulation machine that replicates the fight between Damian and the Heretic.
The purpose of the machine is for Bruce to prove to himself that he could've saved Damian. If only he was faster and stronger etc.
However in every single simulation he fails and keeps seeing Damian die and die. He doesn't give up however and keeps going for 4 days.
Eventually, Alfred being worried, call Dick to talk some sense into Bruce. Dick, not being able to convince Bruce, goes into the simulation with him and manages to save Damian and kill Heretic by stabbing a pole through his chest.
Bruce then agrees to take a break and leaves. We are then left alone in the cave with Alfred. But it doesn't end there, and this happens:
Honestly, this hurt me more than seeing Bruce's grieving. And it does make sense that he'd blame himself.
Anyways just wanted to share this...
It's not really well known, but Carrie Kelley is canon in DC comics.
A few years back, she was the Robin that came after Dick, but it was soon retconned and she was erased from canon.
But in Batman and Robin (2011), she makes an appearance.
Carrie Kelley, in new canon, is a college student who gave Damian acting classes. Nobody knew that he was getting tutored by her, but it was revealed to Bruce in a 'not pleasent' way.
In her first few panels, we see her trying to contact Damian because he had stopped showing up to the lessons and stopped taking her calls. This had upset her, as he was naturally talented (according to her) in acting. She was also worried about him.
Carrie, then, shows up at the Wayne Manor looking for Damian. However, she does not get what she was looking for.
Bruce tells her that he had sent him abroad for education and Carrie is not happy with that. At that time, we can see that Carrie knows Damian well enough to know that he wouldn't be happy getting sent to another country. She also blames Bruce for losing a great acting partner.
After Bruce leaves, we see Alfred converse with Carrie and offer her a job of taking care of Titus. Carrie happily agrees to it.
A few days later, she comes back to the manor and Bruce is visibly uncomfortable. It's clear that he does not want her here. Bruce asks her what she is doing in his house, and Alfred explains the situation.
Bruce and Carrie start talking a little as Bruce is curious about Damian's new friend. Carrie mentions a movie she made of Titus and also about an interview she had with Damian before he had started taking acting lessons. She also mentions that Damian was like a little brother to her and with him being blunt and true, it was easy to befriend him.
Bruce asks her for the the interview footage and Carrie makes a deal with him instead. She'd give him the interview footage if Bruce gives the movie she made about Titus to Damian. She also asks Bruce to tell Damian to give her a call. Bruce agrees to the deal.
Later on, when she leaves, Bruce keeps his promise and takes Titus' movie to Damian and places it onto his grave...
Give me more tired boi Bruce Wayne!
His sleep schedule must be absolutely fucked. My mom worked nights for years and even now that she hasn't been for over four years, she's still basically nocturnal. So Bruce 'Running around as a bat at night' Wayne has no hope.
I want constantly tired Bruce. A tiredness that no coffee or stimulant will fix. A tiredness that comes with trying to solve every problem around you by yourself for years.
The family is eating breakfast? Bruce has his head down on the table asleep while everyone else is chatting. Cass covers his food for him to eat later.
At a board meeting? Everyone else thinks he's wearing shades indoors to be pretentious but Tim knows that it's to hide the fact that he's conked out.
There's a gala on? People wonder where Bruce Wayne has disappeared to, if he's taken some pretty girl (or guy) back to a room to show her a good time. In reality, Dick saw him nearly topple over while talking to someone so he swooped in and led Bruce to a back room for him to nap.
That's why Batman is rarely seen during the day. Not because he doesn't want to be but because he just cannot function whatsoever due to his exhaustion.
It makes him feel a bit bad cause he wants to spend more time with his kids outside of the cowl. He wants to go to more petting zoos with Damian, do more puzzles with Duke and have more cooking lessons with Jason.
He tries his best but all the batkids can tell he's genuinely exhausted. They cover him with blankets when they catch him napping in random places. They try and be a bit quieter when he's asleep. Y'know just make things a little easier.
And while some of them will deny it (read: Jason) their favourite activity to do with their Dad is all cuddling up and taking a nap together.
cough cough @bruciemilf
Robin!Jason: Okay, let's go put a bullet in Joker's head.
Batman: No, if we kill him we're no better than he is. If we kill him, he wins.
Robin! Jason: Yeah. Except we are better than he is, and he doesn't win. He doesn't anything. He's dead. That's the point.
*There’s a new strain of Joker venom and they are trying to make an antidote because Duke got hit with it*
Steph: Are there any records of the old venom? We might find clues on how to help Duke.
Tim: Uh, yeah they’d be downstairs in the storage room, in the morgue.
Steph: Ew, you guys have a morgue?
Tim: Well, it’s not like a morgue morgue.
*Glare*
Jason: It’s not- it’s like a poor man’s morgue, really.
Dick: Morgue-ish.
Jason: My life has become a never-ending game of "Illegal or Just Frowned Upon?"
“Tim Drake is a horrible cook”
“Tim Drake couldn’t take care of himself to save his life”
Timothy “Practically raised himself alone with a housekeeper that came around with dinner once or twice a week” Drake would be a brilliant cook, but all the food he makes would be chaotic as fuck.
Jason is the one who can bake indulgent treats with extra cream and sugar in nice little shapes, and Alfred is the one who can whip up a lobster chowder, but Tim is the one who would be able to look in a pantry with the most eclectic, useless ingredients that have been out of date for decades and know how to make them palatable.
(CW from here on out: food insecurity, starvation, child neglect, early Damian being pre-deassholeification Damian)
Little nine year old Timmy would look in the pantry and find an expired jar of caviar, a handful of pine nuts, exotic spices that his parents brought home but never used because they weren’t around enough to use them, half a stick of butter and a chunk of lettuce (expensive ingredients, sure, but not the right ones to keep a child fed and nourished) and make an eccentric, if edible kind of salad with a spicy, salty sauce with a nutty twist and passable texture.
Timmy would have nothing but a handful of chicken bones that he’d managed to swipe before Mrs Mac threw the food waste in the bin, the spices mentioned earlier, two spoonfuls of sour cream, hoisin sauce, and salami and he’d still manage to make a broth that would feed him for the next week because Mrs Mac only came with dinner twice a week and it would be at least another month before his parents came home from whatever country they were digging into this time. And his food wouldn’t be the most substantial, but it wasn’t like anyone was giving him packs of fresh meat or bread anyway, and nobody was home to check whether or not he was eating properly.
Mrs Mac would act coy when she saw him sneaking his vegetables off his plate, but Tim wasn’t doing it to avoid eating broccoli, he was doing it so he would have something to eat tomorrow. He’d have school lunches to buy, but other than that, what he could make was all he had.
Alfred would notice, at first, that Tim would be a very good wartime cook, before questioning why, and then giving him “leftovers” to take home with him after patrol. Just in case.
And when he moved into the manor, everyone was so confused as to why he was allowed in the kitchen with the kind of things he creates, but nobody is willing to question Alfred’s judgement, so they leave him be. Damian kept trying to poison him but failing because he would use the most outlandish, stupid ingredients and half the ones he tended to use were nonperishable and therefore sealed. He’d also smuggle a lot of expired food into a separate pantry so Alfred wouldn’t throw it out, and Jason would probably be the only one to see anything wrong with it aside from Tim being Tim.
So, yeah. Angst, anyone?
my friend and i realized Jason probably has had to make a list of things he missed while he was dead Steve Rogers style so obviously I had to make this, enjoy
And here’s the empty one in case anyone wants to make their own lmao
Harmonies of the Multiverse
THEME
When Jupiter collides with autumn, a single moment is born between two entities. Equal harmonies with balance, dancing along a fine line of too far and too near, of brightest and dimmest, of perfect alignment. People say that on an equinox, the sky divides into two parts, golden light and silver darkness.
For Damian Wayne, it meant heading to the rooftop instead of sleeping peacefully in his bed, staring at the sky, but not seeing anything. His eyes would remain blank as they stared up at the twinkling stars almost covered by the rancid smog. He learned at too young of an age that life was not about myths and fairytales, but of monsters in the form of flesh and bone which held their smiles on their face and their daggers in your back.
The equinox meant facing the demons of his past.
He always knew he was never the best person. He wouldn't ever be as selfless as Dick, he wouldn't be as level-headed as Tim, or even as passionate as Jason. He wouldn't have his father's ingrained need to help the dying cesspool they lived in, and he would never have Alfred's heaven-bound level of patience. There would always be that selfish, rash, cold-hearted, narcissistic, impatient prince lying inside of him, waiting to rear its foul head. It surfaced every second he held a blade in his hand, at every mob member terrorizing innocents and criminals alike, every abuser, every villain. A voice inside him purred to rid the world of their filth, of their moral grime. And every single time, it grew louder and louder and louder and louder.
Each time a criminal escaped through his grasp was another chip in his fortitude.
Each time an innocent civilian broke a smile at him, only to die minutes later from an explosion was a stab in the wall between morally good and vengeance.
For every stabbing heart, for every gutless cry of a mother who lost their child.
Wouldn't it be so much easier to erase them before they could commit such barbarisms?
The cold kissed his cheeks, so much like a viper's poison, and he shook his head, banishing the thought from his mind. Ah, she's still inside my head.
Maybe symphonies are built on a beautiful melody. However, the melody would never work if they worked on different concepts. The one his father blasted into his mind was a righteous march, darker in tone than most melodies, but an overarching victory for Good reigned. It taught him patience, morals, ethics, light against darkness.
But, his mother taught him the cellist's devil nature. The darker tones, the echoing, vibrating puppet master giving the audience the illusion that the melody is in control, but in reality, all the melody can do is fall victim to the villainous, tragic whirlpool of misery, murder, and fascist brutality. She placed the blade in his hand, had him earn her love through feats of glorious atrocities, built him up from the ground up into the perfect weapon, too jagged and unpredictable to be used for Good, but whittled down, rusted and corrupted for far too long to be remolded into something useful.
Now, he didn't know where he belonged. Did his melody rise above the dark cello nurtured in him? Or will the melody drown under the alluring, tempest bass driven through his heart, buried deeper than the center of the Earth?
The wind, maybe sensing his demise, could do nothing but blow harder to calm his feverish head filled with questions he could not answer. The somber cold stung the sweet chapped lips all too used to the desert's ice and fire of his childhood, but it stung more bitterly as the North Atlantic ocean blew in the new change in season. Gotham was an outlier. A ghost town of improbabilities and plausibility all clashed together to create a cesspool of madness, hate, and impossibilities.
He wondered why his father, or his ancestors before him, would ever want to stay in a city like this for the rest of their rich, detached lives. Why they would ever choose to spend their lives in this miserable landfill, giving what they have to make the ever-draining city a better place. Why they gaze at the buildings and streets with fond gazes. Why they find it so easy to smile at a Gotham native without feeling like they will get a knife's edge poking their sternum the moment they show their backs.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he cursed God that he was not given this ingrained sense of belonging and mercy to Gotham like all of his family before him.
Pages rustled on in the breeze, and, by miraculous luck, the cover tipped open. Blue light shone through the darkness beyond his closed eyelids, but he did not notice beyond the salty river squeezing through the crevice.
"S'il te plaît, ne me dis pas que tu pleures." Please, don't tell me you're crying. Soft French carried over the quiet din. "I never know what to do when you are crying."
He pried his eyes open, and a vision filled his eyes. A girl, no older than he was, but with a more youthful smile cracked in sorrow, dressed in a midnight blue evening gown glowing in the darkness, blowing in the wind to its own rhythm as it reflected the stars ten times brighter than Gotham Fair's lights. She floated over the torn book of ancient Tibetan magic he brought with him that night, just like he did every solstice, her legs crossed underneath her in an informal squat. Cheeks blossomed like dusky luminescent wisteria, and constellations made of stars brighter than Rigel lost across the bridge of her nose. Her blue crown of hair burned a halo around her, framing bluebell eyes that looked older than a thousand of his lifetimes staring deep into his own green eyes.
The only word he could say was, "Marinette."
Her grin made his heart's symphony subito pianissimo. "Hi, Damian. Happy Autumn Solstice."
================
not me wanting to make this a full fic ;v; (hence the chapter title "theme")
for @jumpingjoy82 for the maribat gift exchange 2022 (i posted on time on archive, just not on tumblr ;v;)
I see 2 camps here in the Batman Fandom.
Team: Bruce can't cook
Team: Bruce can but still doesn't cook
I have an offer:
Bruce CAN cook and the food is....ok. But his methods are so bizarre that people take psychic damage watching it.
Sorta like: How the hell did you make risotto in a coffee pot with no rice
Daminette School AU Quotes
Lila: You know Marinette, it’s such a shame no one likes you, you’re actually quite useful when you know your place.
Marinette: (sighing) Lila, the bar for civility is so low it’s practically a tripping hazard in hell, yet here you are, limbo dancing with the devil.
Lila: (smiling falsely) If you say something like that again, I’ll “trip” you out of that window you- What are you doing?
Marinette: (looking at the window) Checking how high the drop is, see if it’s worth it.
Damian: (sitting behind them on his phone, not looking up) Most humans can survive a two story fall, Dupain-Cheng. You’ll be fine.
Marinette: Aww, Lila wouldn’t make it then?
Lila: (fuming) Excuse me!?
Marinette: He said humans, and since you’ve clearly escaped from hell you’ll probably just shatter into a thousand pieces and reform there.
Damian: (under his breath) The devil doesn’t want her back.
damian : [creeping behind jason to stab him]
jason, loudly : I hope no one is about to attack me from behind because I'm thinking about making cookies later.
damian pausing :
damian : ...what kind?
Jason *struggling not to laugh*: bruce. you aren’t gonna believe what i just did.
Bruce: jason, what did you do?
Jason: so i bought a ton of these thumb drives
Bruce: yeah
Jason: and mailed them out to a ton of different villains
Bruce: yeah
Jason: each labelled “how to kill Batman” or “Batman’s secret identity”
Bruce: YOU WHAT
Jason: no no no calm down- they’re full of viruses
Bruce: …what
*Dick walks in*
Jason: dick did you hear what i did? oh my god did you hear what i did?
Tim: hey, you didn’t do it alone.
Jason: sorry. yeah, tim helped me, ti-tim helped me- OH MY GOD IT’S SO FUNNY. i dunno why i went around killing people, this is the. best. revenge. ever. and ohmygod y’know how we just busted that huge underground hacking scheme? well they were the people villains would go to for computer stuff. and all of them are in prison. this is my greatest achievement ever. except making Batman cry.
Headcanon that Jason’s white hairstreak is so inconsistent in the comics because he keeps desperately trying to get rid of it and it just comes back.
Maybe it makes more sense for it to be a stress thing, but I think it’s funnier if it’s just a weird magical side effect of the Lazarus pits.
So he dies it black, and the magic goes No. It’s white again within a week. He tries colouring it in with sharpie. No luck. He literally cuts that bit off and then he wakes up with more white hair than before.
He eventually has to call Talia like How Do I Get Rid Of It.
She gives him the mystical speech equivalent of a vague shrug.
damien doesn't even like caprisuns
keeping this as a reminder whenever i feel like my writing isn’t good enough
desperate for a tv show filmed like modern family or the kardashians of the batfam, titled “watch out for the waynes” or something like that.
bruce signed for the limited series to keep up appearances.
dick acts like a love island contestant.
damian is only ever in the corner of shots, staring into the soul of the cameraman.
cass, similarly, does not contribute much, but looks to the camera like she’s in modern family whenever shit happens.
tim finds every way to be the last laugh, the one-liner guy, the “unexpected, effortless, fan favourite™️”.
duke frequents the interview room.
jason sends subtextual messages to the audience through the books he’s seen reading in a scene:
bruce and tim are having a tiff about who’s idea is better while jason’s reading “the metamorphoses - book iii 339-358” (narcissus).
everyone’s having a grand old time at a gala while jason’s at a table reading “vile bodies”.
damian’s in a mood and nobody’s picked up on it yet while jason is seen reading “american psycho”.
nobody can find steph and tim and jason’s sat literally reading the back of a “dazed and confused” dvd to get his point across.
I know we all talk about Jason finding out Dick killed the Joker from Tim or one of the other batfam members, but what if:
One day he’s searching for blackmail material on a member just for fun and knows Damian keeps a list of all of them so he backs into the files and realised the folder with the heaviest inscription to unlock is one labelled “Contingencies”.
He opens it to find every single person in their family is on there and starts surfing through them. When he sees Tim’s he freezes, mentally filing away some horrific details for checking up on him later, Jason’s list is impressive but not much he didn’t expect…still concerned how he got the evidence though.
His fingers hesitate over Batman’s, and after thinking screw it what the hell clicks on it just to realise most of them are psychological, and had to do with Jason. One video showed Bruce as Jason remembered him from his robin days. He was pacing furiously in the Manor, tugging on his pocket square which for him was a high level of distress, before he went upstairs - to Jason’s room when he stayed there - and looked in. The change was sudden, Bruce’s shoulders sagged and his face grew into one of fondness, one he’d rarely seen before.
“I cant help it Alfred.. Scarecrow’s toxin.. I KNOW it isn’t real but.. I can’t stop thinking about it. What if -“ and Jason can’t really believe his ears, that was a fucking quiver in his voice- “What if one day it comes true?” “What was your worst fear Master Bruce?”.
“Jason..” and Jason flinches. “I.. I saw him die, and I was powerless. I cant lose him Alfred. I just cant.”
The recording ends, and it takes a while for Jason to realise he can’t breathe. He sends the file to himself and laughs bitterly, remembering what the fear toxin had shown him. Lucifer. It had shown him falling from Bruce’s grace, being his greatest disappointment. “Guess we both failed each other didnt we old man?”
After what feels like forever, when he can feel his fingers stop shaking his eyes drift over to Dicks.
Damian sure does adore him, wonder what the brats got in store for him.
Most of them were things he was sure Dick could handle, until a glitched file appeared which read “for EXTREME situations only.”
When he heard Joker laugh, Jason could’ve sworn he was in the cave. “Hello there old friend! Aww why the long face?”
Dick wasn’t facing the camera, but the sheer aura of destruction radiating off of him was enough for Jason to know Joker was in danger. Judging by his outfit and well- hair- this must’ve been years ago.
“Didn’t you like my..ah.. gift? It was quite the blast I hear!”
Dicks fists clenched. His usual smile was gone, replaced by a hatred so vile it could’ve rivalled batman’s glare. It was so odd.. seeing him so pissed.
“Well that’s what happens.. when birds get hit. They never see what’s right in front of them and then BAM!”
As his laughter rang out Jason heard Dick whisper something. It was so soft, quieter than he’d ever heard him and he found himself leaning forward.
“What’s that? How long he lasted? Well I counted everytime he screamed when I broke his bones so-“
“SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!”
Jason stumbled back, nearly falling to the floor himself. Dicks voice was thundering, echoing across the cave.
What the hell had happened? Why was Dick so mad? Why wasn’t he smiling?
“You..killed him.”
And that’s when it hit Jason. Oh. This was after he’d died.
The joker was trying to say something, but Jason couldn’t hear him. All he could focus on was how Dick was behaving, how he was walking upto Joker. Jason had seen that before.
The intent to kill.
SLAM
The fight was brutal, and blood flew everywhere, mixed with the laughter and cries of the Joker while Dick yelled, YELLED so loudly he could’ve sworn the cave was shaking before the sound of a wet snap ricocheted and Dick went limp.
No.. no no no no.
He watched in horror as Dick stood up, drenched in blood and heaving. Dick had gone- no BEATEN- the joker for Jason.
But the longer he looked, the more he felt the Lazarus pit burning inside him.
The joker wasn’t moving.
Dick walked away, and in the shadows, with bloody fists and face of hatred could not see him as the Dick he knew.
“Dead.”
He looked up to hear Dick whisper to the thundering sky outside.
“I killed him Jason. The joker is dead. Rest in peace little wing.”
Jason’s feet gave out under him, and he crashed to the ground gasping for breath.
Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he had been avenged.
Never did he even think that Dick had only killed once… and only for him.
I know that its basically canon that Jason's not afraid of death and thus acts the most reckless possible because he's already been there done that, right? And its not like theres anything worse than death, so he might as well go all in at all times, but what if he was instead terribly afraid of dying? Not because of death itself but because there is something worse that death, and it's coming back from it.
Jason knows death is not that bad really, because at least the pain stops, then. But coming back? That's what truly terrifies him, and it's only possible if he dies.
He has a thousand contingencies in place to make sure that if he does die again (and theres a half thought there of going out to find a way to never die, because no matter what he suffers after, it's never going to be worse than coming back), nothing is able to bring him back.
One night, a freak explosion leaves him seriously injured, a stray metal shard digging itself deep in his stomach. As the bats rush him back to the cave, delirious from the pain and blood loss, Jason begs Bruce to please, please, get rid of my body, dad, I dont wanna come back again, please swear to me you won't bury me again.
And Bruce, poor Bruce, has to look his son in the eyes and tell him that yes, he'll make sure he doesn't come back again (and oh, how does it hurt, knowing that the best thing that happened to you is the worst pain you son will ever feel).
Jason steps into fights only when he knows every single detail of it, and it's what makes him ten times more efficient and just as much scarier to criminals. He is swift when dealing out justice, and as precise as a surgeon. No one really escapes him, be it petty criminals or mob bosses.
He still gets hurt a great deal, because his pain tolerance is definitely fucked up, and he knows his limits, so he can tell when a wound is nothing to get worried about.
The first time Damian calls Tim his brother is when Tim is beating his ass at Mario Party and after Tim steals yet another star Damian throws his controller down and yells, "I am your BABY BROTHER!"
for the fic title game, 'you're the ghost of your predecessors'?
OKAY so I know a lot of people will be thinking like Tim or Damian for this one, and I get it. I get it. But Steph. Fic with Steph focusing on her sense of identity and how it's always been tied so closely to other people. First, her father, as Spoiler. Next, as Robin, everyone that came before her—Dick, Jason, Tim. Wanting so desperately to be her own Robin—good like they were, but in her own way, but at every turn she was condescended to, compared, disrespected, and just couldn't be her own Robin.
Then there was Batgirl, and Batgirl was a breath of fresh air. Batgirl wasn't under Bruce’s jurisdiction any more than Oracle was—Batgirl wasn't Robin. But, but, but. As Batgirl, she had to be as smart as Babs, as strong as Cass, and as kind as the both of them. As Batgirl, the load to be as good as her predecessors was one she put on herself, to prove their trust in her wasn't misplaced or misguided. Another mantle, more legacies to uphold.
Then, fast forward a bit, and she's Spoiler again. And Spoiler was created to spoil her father's plots and get him in jail, but, well, he's been in jail for around three years now, and with the strings she's sure were tugged, he's not getting out any time soon. And, she- Spoiler is hers. Nobody's but hers. And she doesn't know how to feel about having a title that's just hers.
She's still got the weight of Robin and Batgirl on her shoulders, but maybe this is one she doesn't mind bearing. She's a ghost of her predecessors, but it doesn't sound so negative now. Maybe she can live with that.
She's a reflection of everyone that's come before her, and that isn't too bad. Dick's determination, Jason’s compassion, Tim's crazy-smart kindness, Cass' strength, Babs' intelligence. Bruce’s paranoia.
Damian has your bravery, Tim tells her once, and she almost breaks down sobbing. She can be a ghost of her predecessors, if that means those that come after her will be a ghost of her too.
I’m also anti-pit madness! What’s your reason? I’m not a fan of it because it isn’t canon and I find it triggering because it’s often used as an excuse for characters *cough cough* Jason *cough cough* to behave abusively without any repercussions.
for the me it's mainly because it takes away the character's agency and accountability.
all the bad things they did, the change/development of their character - whoosh! explained away by "oh they were being strongly influenced / they were temporarily insane & out of control it wasn't their fault <3". it reduces the situation/events/character to a mindset where it simply couldn't be helped.
like no!!! they were in control!!! they made those decisions!!! they're the way they are now not because of the pit, but because they've gone through life events and come out changed!!!
to get specific with Jason (bc we all know that's who this is about):
Jason becoming a crimelord, killing lots of people, and nearly killing his family was FULLY premeditated. Jason is wicked smart. you better believe he thought that shit out down to the letter before acting.
was he incredibly angry? yeah. was his character suddenly drastically different than who he was when he died? yeah. BECAUSE HE DIED AND CAME BACK, THEN LIVED FIVE WHOLE YEARS AWAY FROM GOTHAM. OF COURSE HE'S FUCKED UP. HE'S NEVER GONNA BE THE SAME AGAIN AND THAT'S THE POINT.
'pit madness' completely takes away the impact of that. and even if pit madness was canon, you're telling me that in those five years of training and travel etc he STILL had zero control over it? c'mon.
i'm just... i hate it when fucked up events and actions are "fixed" by a borderline deus ex machina like pit madness. not only does it put everyone else in a bad position and often forces them into a corner of guilt "we should have known, i'm sorry we didn't see it, we still love you, no no you don't need to apologize we get it" - it takes the pit-dipped character and makes them kinda pathetic, honestly.
suddenly, despite their development (please note that development does Not equal positive growth), they're backtracking right to where they started. they have to grovel for forgiveness. they've got that "ough im unforgivable, im out of control, it would be better if i stayed away even though i wish i could go home" self pity
and again talking about jason specifically: whenever i read a fic where all he wants is to go home but thinks he can't, i roll my eyes. if he wanted to 'go home', he'd be having tea with Alfred every sunday. Bruce and the others would not be able to stop him. he would not give up his guns for fuckin ANYONE, and especially not Bruce.
and would you look at that - most fics i read where he's given up his guns also has pit madness. and guess what - in those, he gives up his guns because of the pit madness, because it, say it with me, ~made him kill people~.
actions have consequences. people change, often in an unpleasant direction. pit madness spits in the face of that and i hate it.