Ok, Hear Me Out. An AU Where Janet Drake Is Best Friends With Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne And Oliver Queen.

‏Dear friend,

‏I’m AbdAlhadi from Gaza. My family and I have lost everything—our home, work, and security. We now live in a tent, struggling daily.

‏Please share our story. Your voice could connect us to those who can help.

‏Thank you,

🍉AbdAlhadi

If anyone can help, please do. This is not a war, it's a genocide. Cease fire and free Palestine 🍉

Ever think about how Bruce's (official) children embody a vital part of Batman but like, squared?

Nightwing: hope

Red Hood: anger/vengeance

Red Robin: intelligence

Robin (Damian): Discipline

Black Bat: Redemption

That's all I wanted to say, thanks

Life cycle of our Sun, from beginning to end~

Update on my health, my hemoglobin is so low I will probably get a blood transfusion. Yay. I feel like shit, so weak. And I can't go through the day without falling asleep every couple hours, whether I want to or not. So yeah.

Also I will later need a type of heart surgery that would cost half a million pesos (24661 dollars) at the least if it were done in a private hospital, so my best hope is the public Healthcare which luckily isn't all that bad here, but to get that I'll need to fly to Mexico City and probably do it there, but who knows how that will go. First things first, stabilizing my blood. It's scary as fuck though.

Also it's affecting me horribly at school. Last Friday I had a presentation and I couldn't THINK. I had never done so badly in a presentation. The professor stopped us and told us to sit down. Didn't make it through ONE slide. Turns out it's hard to think when I have hardly any blood reaching my brain.

This is me Aya.. ‏🇵🇸

Imagine you wake up with nothing left.That's exactly what happened with us .we moved from having everything to having nothing.In a blink of an eye ,we lost everything, our house ,dreams, memories belongings and our works. We are starting from zero and need your help to climb the leader step by step from scratch.

All the positive words cannot express how generous you are, especially in sharing my posts to inform other donors about the people of Gaza who are still suffering from the terrible conditions caused by the unjust war on Gaza!

Please continue to support us by donating directly or by sharing the link to let others know. Don't hesitate to help people in difficult and miserable times until the dark days are over. 🙏🏻🍉

https://gofund.me/c4c2cf82

If anyone can help, please do. This is not a war, it's a genocide. Cease fire and free Palestine 🍉

Quetzalcoatl but make him tiny and white

Now even our gods are getting whitewashed smh /j

It's so cute

ooc. Winged snake i found on Pinterest

So yeah TW/CW for Snakes

Give me Mexican Jason dancing Payaso De Rodeo in Park Row with other Mexican immigrants. Him teaching younger kiddos how to do it. Give me all the Mexican Gothamites having Posadas and fucking up a traditional Piñata (those are hard as fuck no mames) with their bare fists because yes, they're Mexican, but they're also Gothamites. The youngest ones do use the bat though.

Give me Jason belting Canciones De Señora™ while cleaning his safe houses and to other popular Latino Music when cooking or cleaning his guns or just randomly, and like, so very dramatically.

Like, imagine Jason just...

"Ven y cuéntame la verdad Ten piedad Y dime por qué, no, no no, oh ¿Cómo fue que me dejaste de amar? Yo aún podía soportar Tu tanta falta de querer" he looks at a picture of Tim as Robin, feeling replaced and unloved

"Hace un mes solía escucharte Y ser tu cómplice" he looks at a picture of Batman and him as Robin "pensé que ya no había—" he turns around to find Dick, who just sneaked into his safehouse, leaning against a wall.

"Don't stop on my account. Carry on."

"No, I was just... Nothing. Just. Uh. Looking through cases."

"And singing?"

"Yeah. Uh... Helps me process."

"Riiight."

But before that,

But before all that, give me this little fucker making Tamales on February 2nd. Give me this fucker making Pan de Muerto and Rosca de Reyes respectively. Give me this fucker making Chiles En Nogada and watching his family eat them happily.

Give me Bruce, Dick and Alfred learning about Mexican foods and traditions and continuing them on his behalf once he dies.

Give me them putting up his Ofrenda for Día de Muertos, with Pan de Muerto and his favorite foods, and his Robin mask. Give me them finding comfort on Día de Muertos because he's supposed to visit, right?

Give me Tim seeing this Ofrenda and shaking, falling to his knees. Give me him staying there on Día de Muertos, begging for forgiveness, promising he's not trying to replace him. Just in case he does visit.

Give me Jason knowing deep down that they set up an Ofrenda for him, because he may not remember what his soul did while he was dead, but he has a feeling, deep down, that maybe he visited.

Give me Jason teaching his family after reconciliation to dance Payaso de Rodeo and them treating it like endurance training, dancing again and again and again until one of them collapses or sits out.

What can I say? I'm Mexican, and I love my Mexican Jason Todd headcannon.

Following the Mini of Ithaca thing.

But before that, warnings: hunting, blood, blood drinking (lmk if I missed any)

An elaboration on the hunting thing I mentioned.

We've established she's Artemis' friend and student. So, she holds immense respect for the lives she hunts. Her arrows fly true and sharp, they don't give the prey a moment of pain. It's an instant, merciful death. And she doesn't scare the animal beforehand. No, the animals' last moments are peaceful. And afterwards, she kneels beside it, touches her forehead to its and thanks it for the sacrifice as she closes its eyes. If it has to be trapped, her dogs corral it quickly. It's sharp, quick. Honorable. She doesn't let it suffer.

This contrasts with how Telemachus and Odysseus hunt, which is more strategic. They were mentored by Athena, they set traps and are strategic about it. The animal feels fear as it falls into the trap, and they have no post-hunting ritual— it's just a meal for them, a sacrifice that had to be done. She finds their method dishonorable, barbaric and cruel, not so much because of the traps or the lack of ritual, she understands that, but because they tend to watch even after it falls into their trap, prolonging their fear and suffering instead of ending it quickly.

Another difference is that she pays attention to her prey. No mothers, no babies. She hunts those who had lived enough and didn't have anyone depending on them.

After Odysseus comes back and they bond a little, once there's no awkwardness anymore, they go on a hunting trip, the three of them, while Penelope stays in the palace making sure everything stays running as it should. Or rather, they join Mini in one of her regular hunting trips.

Since she disagrees with their method, they divided. She hunted with her dogs, and Telemachus and Odysseus hunted their way, together.

She hunted a boar, a limp to his step, covered in scars and a graying coat. It had likely been thrown out of his pack, and it had lived enough.

She made it quick, swift. It felt no fear, no pain. She knelt before it and closed his eyes. It looked peaceful, like she'd hunted it in it's sleep.

"Thank you for the life you led and the life you give. It will not go to waste. May your strength give back to the Earth."

She tied it up carefully and her dogs helped her tug it to camp, their tails wagging happily as they tugged on the rope.

She frowned at the sheer amount of traps her brother and father had set and made sure her dogs avoided them. She heard the panicked, pained cries of an animal and rushed forth, her dogs leaving the boar to follow her quicker.

She saw a doe trapped in one of their traps, rope burns and shallow cuts on her skin as she desperately tried to escape. Her brother and father approached calmly, slowly, no rush to end her pain.

But beyond that, she noticed, she had young. She could see it in her belly, she had recently given birth. If they killed her, her fawns would not make it, and it would be in vain.

She fired a warning arrow at her father's feet to stop him from shooting and instead she stepped in to calm the doe down and free her. She apologized on her family's behalf and ensured she was once again calm. Being blessed and befriended by Artemis, her presence is peaceful for the wild. She cleaned the cuts and kissed the doe's forehead, respect and reverence clear, before she let her run free.

She was disgusted by the disregard of her family for the lives of their prey. They saw themselves above them simply because they are humans. She understood that the prey, too, are lives.

After the doe runs, she turns to the prey they already killed. Fear in their bodies, pain in their wide eyes. Meanwhile, her prey, both the boar and any other, looked simply asleep, only one stain of blood in each. Only one wound, while theirs had rope burns or even wounds in the legs to be immobilized.

I'd like to point out that Odysseus met Athena by killing her magic boar for the thrill of it, and he was rewarded by her for it, because that was it's purpose. Cool and all, it wasn't a clean hunt but he was a kid so ok, and the point of the boar was testing their strategy and mind. But the point remains, he enjoys hunting, enjoys the thrill of it. Mini likes hunting because it's a beautiful cycle of giving and taking.

Now, Telemachus looked at her prey— the boar, hares and birds alike— and the peace in their bodies. They looked simply asleep. And he watched as she prepared them when they got home, carefully cleaning their pelts and leather for clothing, preparing the meat, what she couldn't cook was given to her dogs, and the blood was gathered. Her dogs fasted on what she couldn't use, part of why they might just be the healthiest dogs in Ithaca. The bones served either as enrichment for her dogs, or to carve tools or even toys for children to play with. What couldn't be used or consumed was given back to nature. Telemachus found it fascinating. She wasted nothing.

He had noticed before that she always smelled of blood, but hadn't understood why until he saw her prepare her prey herself, no regards for keeping the blood off her hands at all. She let the blood drip and gather in a large clay bowl, and when it stopped dripping, he watched her take a few sips of it before setting the bowl down for her dogs to lap up the rest.

"It's no different from Black Soup." she explained

"Which is boiled beforehand"

"So long as it's cleanly collected it's fine. They gave their lives for our nourishment, the least we can do is take as much advantage of their strength as we can."

Which, now I'm thinking would make a hell of an intimidation tactic.

She's nineteen, so I imagine suitors are starting to pursue her from other kingdoms.

A prince arrives to Ithaca, and no one likes him. He's rude and treats her like she's inferior, condescension in his every action. He insults Ithaca and its people, especially it's women, including the Queen and Princess. He constantly talks about how "when she marries him, he'll teach her to be a proper lady" because she's too wild and "doesn't respect her superiors" (men). He talks about what a great bride and mother she'll be once she's "corrected". He doesn't shut up about how improper it is that she hunts and she should leave it to the men, and how she'll learn to sit still by his side.

Odysseus is constantly having to be held back from killing him, because it'd end in war and there's been enough of that. And he knows it, so he's not too afraid to be killed. Telemachus inconveniences him as much as he can and sticks by his sister's side.

Everyone tried to scare him off for days, Odysseus tells the most bloody, gory of his stories from the twenty years away, hoping to scare him. But he's persistent. So she decided to take it upon herself. After a few days of putting up with him, she went hunting, all normal. Then during dinner she poured the raw blood straight from the bowl to her goblet and took a sip, humming contently.

"Oh, how rude of me. Would you like some?" she grinned, lips stained red "I do love the taste of fresh blood" she hummed "And so do my dogs. Isn't that right, my darlings?" she threw them each a large piece of meat, bone still with it, and they tear it apart wildly, the crunch of the bone echoing in the silent dining room, an unspoken threat, a show that their jaws were strong enough to snap bone and tear through flesh easily.

By that point, only Telemachus was aware of her blood drinking habit, but Odysseus and Penelope also want the prince OUT so even though they're mildly disturbed, they play along like it's the most normal thing.

Telemachus, eager to see the prince go, and having witnessed his sister drinking blood before and had time to come to terms with it, amps it up by asking if she could serve him some as well and sipping calmly.

The foreign prince remained, though hesitant. He's decided to marry Alkmene. So Odysseus, who is willing to do anything short of starting a war to get this man away from his daughter, and Penelope, a Spartan first and foremost, figure, you know what? Fuck it, let's traumatize him. It can't be that bad.

So they try to remain unbothered as they fill their goblets as well and drink, a contented smile on their faces even as the smell of fresh blood being so intense overwhelms Odysseus (imagine his trauma, poor man)

The prince fled, muttering something about urgent business in his kingdom. Not wanting to make himself seem cowardly, he twists the stories.

He spread rumors of Ithaca and its royal family.

He said that the reason she hides her right eye must be because it's the eye of a demon.

He retells Odysseus' stories, how he grinned as he spoke of fighting Gods and slaughtering sirens, of eating their tails.

How the whole family drunk raw blood like the finest of wine.

How her dogs must be hellhounds, the size and strength of them not limiting their speed and agility.

How their muzzles and paws were stained red with blood like the Princess' hands and lips, and how the three of them (the princess and her hounds) always reeked of blood and death.

How the Princess must have some sort of supernatural senses because she sees things she shouldn't be able to.

And I mean, he's not wrong about the fact that they are no normal pups. As previously stated, they were gifted to her by Artemis herself, imbued with magic. They're bigger, stronger, faster than most dogs, yes, but they're not hellhounds. And the last point is actually just because again, they serve as her eyes, and they constantly guard her back, so if you attempt to sneak up on her, she'll see you through their eyes, but no one knows this fully.

Other kingdoms eat up the stories about Ithaca's monstrous royal family. "Wild monsters, all of them" they whisper, "They have no hearts, I tell you".

Ithaca knows better. Ithaca adores their royal family. The King who went to hell and back to come home. The Queen who reigned on her own for twenty years, no man by her side.

Their beloved half-masked princess who carves toys for the children of the kingdom, the huntress whose game feeds anyone who goes hungry, whose prey's leathers and pelts dress those who most need it instead of hoarding them for herself. The archer who is only rivaled by their beloved king.

Their Prince who knows the servants and maids by name and who is often the one who hand out his sister's gifts to the people. Who sits with the children of tired mothers and plays with them with his sister's handmade toys so the mothers can rest, because he knows how tiring it was for his mother to raise them.

The Prince and Princess, who the people know if hunger or winter strikes, they can knock on the palace doors and they'll personally see to it that their children are fed and warm.

The princess' dogs, who look intimidating but don't lash out even when kids tug at their fur. Who wag their tails softly and lay down when a kid approaches their mistress. They are no hellhounds.

There's no rumor that could be spread that would make Ithaca turn on their rulers.

The gods are amused by this whole shitshow. Mini is Artemis' friend, and therefore favored by her and Apollo. Her brother and father favored by Athena. Odysseus is Hermes' great-grandson. Poseidon is terrified of her father, yet he was the one to take her eye. The gods think this is all hilarious.

Speaking of Apollo, like I said, he favors Mini too, because hey, if his twin is her friend...

He didn't mean to. Truly. Gods, he didn't even like her at first— she doesn't have one speck of musical talent and it took her months to even manage to string a bow, and a year at the least to fire an arrow more than five feet away. She was BAD at it.

He first met her when Poseidon took her eye, and Artemis called on him to heal her. He couldn't, it was beyond even his power. A wound inflicted by one of the main three. He managed to heal her enough so that she'd keep her eye and her eyelid wouldn't be torn into damn strips, but that's it. He couldn't restore her vision or rid her of the recurring pain.

He saw how much it affected his sister though. He watched Artemis remain by her side as she was unconscious on the coast. Apollo took on a mortal appearance and warned the Prince that his sister had decided to spend a few days away.

Apollo too remained by her side, not for her but for Artemis. He played music by her side and the warmth he exuded seemed to relax her unconscious body.

When she awoke, her first reaction was to push him away, much to his amusement. Or, well, attempt to push him. She wasn't conscious enough to realize who he was, she only saw a man sitting on her bed and shrieked and pushed him away, slurring words of "who the hell—", "get away" and then called for Artemis.

After that, he visited her. He and his sister taught her to use the bow with the other hand, since Poseidon took her dominant eye. He felt guilty for being unable to restore her sight, and frankly a bit curious about her.

And by the time she learned, he'd grown fond of her. She had guts, he'd give her that. Treated him like an equal. If he was particularly annoying, she whacked him across the head with her bow, much to his amusement.

As they grew more comfortable with each other, she grew bolder. If he mocked her aim, she'd fire an arrow at his head, knowing even if it hit (it wouldn't, he'd dodge or catch it), it wouldn't harm him.

Eventually, he started just hanging around her when he was bored. He'd play music while she carved, and every few minutes he'd look up, expecting praise, because "Excuse me, I'm the God of Music, be glad I'm allowing you to listen to it." If she didn't praise him or acknowledge him, he'd stop and steal her carving or her blade.

"Fine, yes, your music is beautiful. Now give me that!"

"Thank you, dear mortal. Was that so hard?"

"Gods, you're like a stray cat that just showed up one day and refuses to leave."

And Apollo committed to the bit, so now when she didn't acknowledge him soon enough or give him enough attention, he knocked her wooden figurines off their shelf, one by one, until she looked up and gave him the attention he wanted, which often meant maintaining a conversation or attentively listening to his music and praising it correctly. Generic compliments ("Very beautiful, Apollo") would get things knocked over until she did it right ("I liked the part where...", "It made me feel...")

That, or sometimes he just enjoyed pushing her buttons.

"No—... Apollo, NO. Leave that alone, you glorified housecat. No. No, leave it. Leave it. Gods above, you're annoying."

However, he was actually mindful of those figurines she cherished most. He noticed the care she handled them with, and the looks she sent that told him anything but those. And he left those alone.

And then he started seeking not only attention, but affection.

It started with the damn headscratch.

She was used to giving Telemachus headscratches from time to time, especially when she wanted him to relax. So really, it wasn't even intentional.

Apollo was bothering her, he was bored, and she was tired. He was being too hyper when she was tired, and when that happened with Telemachus, head scratches put him to sleep easy enough. So she didn't think about it when she reached up to his golden hair and scratched it gently.

Apollo froze, his mind went blank. Artemis had always been more of a tough love kind of sister, she showed her love through arm punches or affectionate bullying, and he had had that kind of dynamic with Mini too.

He had never received head scratches. And by the gods, he loved them. He relaxed into her hand, lowering his head to make it easier. He closed his eyes, stopped talking and hoped she'd continue.

She did, even as she nodded off, her fingers continuing the motion. Apollo laid her on her bed and knelt by it, resting his head on the bed and letting her continue to scratch his head as she slept.

She woke up to soft, melodic snoring. When she opened her eye, she saw Apollo asleep beside her bed, his head in his arms, resting on the bed, and her hand on his hair. She smiled and continued to give him gentle head scratches. She fell back asleep, and this time when she woke up, he was gone.

The next time she saw Apollo, he was particularly unruly. He knocked everything he could out of their spots, snatched whatever was on her hands the moment she picked it up, and was overall a menace.

He'd stand up, make a mess, and sit next to her for a few seconds before starting again.

She tried striking up conversation, but he'd only reply with an annoyed "hmph!". He didn't play music for her to listen to, either.

And then she reached up and scratched his head. And he finally, finally, calmed down.

"Is that all you wanted, Apollo? Head scratches?"

"Hmph."

"Yeah ok. You don't need to be so annoying to be petted, you can ask."

"I'm a God. I don't ask for something like head scratches."

"Ok, well, then how about next time you just lean in?"

Apollo didn't reply, but he leaned closer.

There was still a lot of playful bullying involved in their dynamics. She still hit him, still whacked him across the head with her bow or her hand, she even bit him when he annoyed her. At some point she started stealing his stuff just like he snatched hers. His lyre, his bow, his arrows— sometimes she just took them, and he let her.

But sometimes he'd just lean in for headpats. It evolved into him resting his head on her lap.

And that evolved into him sitting on her lap like a too-big dog that was convinced he fit.

"Get off me, you annoying lapdog."

"Nope."

"You're heavy!"

"Pets."

"No, move!"

"Pets!"

"You're squishing me, Apollo"

"Pets!"

"Fine!"

Now, of course he was mindful not to lean all his weight on her, but he did put enough of it that she couldn't move him.

He also started to just drape himself over her back sometimes, playing the lyre while she works on her carvings.

Artemis teased her twin about having gotten himself adopted by a human, and he replied that Mini was her human first.

Regardless, Mini seemed to have gotten herself two God friends that loved to bully her, but hey, she gave as good as she got.

Selina: cute kid!

Dick: you gonna say something? No?

Bruce:... Kid?

Dick: mkay, well, hi! Thank you! Yes, I am a cute kid, with a cool dad, you should totally date him. c;

Bruce, nearly having a breakdown... Kid?

He has no idea where the kid came from...

AU Where Battinson is Adopted By a 10-Year-Old Dick Grayson >:)

And Tim got a copy from Talia as soon as he found out, back when he was in the League looking for Bruce. Now he has them printed and hidden away, but deleted from any of his electronics so they can't hack them and are forced to go through him.

The question is, are Bruce and Dick willing to owe him every favor he will ever ask and their undying loyalty? Are they willing to go down the villain path if he ever does, no questions asked?

Velcro baby Damian