Damians 12th Birthday Is Coming Up And Dick Knows Just What To Get His Stabby Baby Bat. Damian Has Been

ML Spite: Yeeting Off the High Road and Dragging You All Down With Me

Imagine, if you would, a slightly different scenario in our usual “High Road” plot. Instead of turning Lila’s lies against Lila, Marinette uses Lila’s lies against the classmates themselves.

Realistically speaking, in these fics, the class has already made it a matter of sides and have already made it clear just whom they’re going to side with. The fact that Lila has no proof of anything whereas Marinette at least has two potential witnesses to the truth (Adrien and Ladybug) doesn’t seem to matter. That means the classmates are actively choosing to trust the new girl over their “Everyday Ladybug”. And if they are putting their trust in someone they don’t know that well vs someone they do, whom they KNOW is a good person whom has helped them before, that means it’s because they WANT to trust Lila more. It seems that choice is primarily based on this belief regarding what Lila can do for them rather than a matter of whom is actually trustworthy.

Under these circumstances, trying to reveal Lila will only backfire. Lila can just pull out the crocodile tears and claim she “only wanted to make friends”, and you know the class will eat it up because a positive impression of someone can’t be broken that easily when people REALLY want to believe the best of the person involved.

To beat Lila, Marinette realizes she can’t just disprove Lila’s claims or even let Lila accidentally out herself. That won’t be enough to get the class our from under her thrall.

No. What she has to do is make Lila’s lies unappealing.

Cue Pettynette’s version of the “High Road”.

“But wait!” I can hear you say. “Hasn’t that been done?”

Not like this.

In the other versions, Marinette, even when being petty, kept her focus on Lila and twisting her lies against her.

In this case, Marinette is twisting Lila’s lies against everyone else.

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HE TWERKED. THE MADLAD TWERKED. HERMES TWERKED

how did jk manage to write ootp and not come to the conclusion that the only career w any true meaning for harry james potter was as a goddamn professor at hogwarts like how do u write the da scenes and say “nah he’d want to be a wizard cop”

Mmmmmm i’m craving cereal….

I’ve been craving breakfast foods so much lately 😭😭

There's an up-and-coming Tech Giant, called Fenton Works, and Batman is determined to prove that the company is a front for a villain.

Danny, after his parents turned from Ghost hunting to being the first official Ghost Anthropologists, decided to repurpose some of their weapons.

And, well, there was a contest being run by Wayne Enterprises; whoever can design a robot that will help the environment got prize money and a grant.

Danny, in all his mechanical engineering prowess, was bored. So he designed a thing. Repurposed the Fenton Guns into a cute robotic tortoise that would clean the beach.

It spiraled from there, and now Fenton Works is the leading name in green technology that's cleaning up the Earth bit by bit. Sea Dragon robots that clean oil and trash from the ocean; beach tortoises that clean the sand and beach and deposit their hoard of trash into designated receptacles that Danny uses as material to make more robots; Cryptid "stalker" robots with long legs that delicately patrol forests to perform "fuel management" and clear out the underbrush to help manage wildfires; moving gargoyle robots that sit on top of skyscrapers to help clean the air with huge sail-like wings, etc.

Basically, Danny pulls a Doctor Elisabet Sobeck, but with less world ending and more actually helping. (Not that the world ending was Elisabet's fault, of course, but different franchise)

And due to the number of times aliens try to attack and rogues send their own robots to attack people, naturally Danny installed self-defense protocols, along with one single golden rule written into the very OS of every single robot; Save Humans Whatever the Cost.

Problem is, Batman has never seen robots like this not be used for evil purposes, and he knows that their power source (a closely guarded Fenton Works secret) is some sort of liquid that glows green.

He really only knows of one liquid that glows green.

So he's determined to find everything he can about Fenton Works, because there's no way that Daniel Fenton isn't actually a villain in the making.

Danny's just thrilled for the chance to work with Wayne Enterprises.

HOLIDAY COMISSIONS:

Payment will be made via PayPal.

I’m up to anything and everything—DM me if you’re not sure.

Bruce truly hates magic with every pump and beat of his heart.

What kinda curse is Slang, anyway?

“This is the best day of my life.”

“Bro really thought he ate with that.” Bruce physically feels a full body shiver, charged with nausea and cringe. “This is level 10 cringe. Can’t have shit in Gotham.”

Dick is his earth bound angel, but he laughs like a demon at him, holding onto Jason for support, pledging his eternal loyalty to Zatana and her pettiness.

—

“Hey, old bat, hook me up with an adrenaline shot.”

What he wants to say is Jay, do not try and fight with 6 bullets in your stomach.

What comes out instead, through Bruce’s grit teeth and intense, fierce glaring, “Not you trying to go back to your corpse era. See how I only took 2 shots? Very demure. Very mindful.”

Jason passes out from blood loss, but mostly laughter.

—

“Chat, is this real?”

Stephanie barely bites back a full belly cackle. “I think he just asked us if we copied.”

“I wish I was Jason, 15.”

—

“This is not a slay environment. Killing is flop behavior.” He keeps his eyes shut and buries his face in his hands. Trying to convince Damian not to stab someone doesn’t seem to work.

Damian gives him a pat like he’s a pitiful cat. “I’ll only stab the non lethal areas.”

“God, I wish that were me.”

[ 0 ]

I blink.

I breathe.

I scream.

***

It is an oddly peculiar feeling to not only see the life leaving you (as evidenced by all the blood pooling around me), but to also feel your heart pumping sluggishly as though it’s trying to make up for all the blood haemorrhaging out of you but not being able to do anything about it.

Case in point—me.

I—well, there’s nothing to say about me. Or well, the me before me.

Fuck, I’m making such a mess of this. I’m aware that I’m not making a lot of sense, but I promise you I will in due time.

So. Back to the point. Me—haemorrhaging. It really was a stupid reason.

See, I’d had an argument with my mother. Something stupid, I don’t remember. Anyway, I decided to say, ‘fuck it’ and wander around a part of town she never let me go by myself.

And then I got myself stabbed. Yeahhhh, I think I can see why she hated me going out to that particular part of town by myself. Goddamn it.

***

The next thing I was aware of was cold. Not the darkness I anticipated. Not Heaven (or Hell). But cold.

Clinical cold. Hospital cold.

I don’t know why it shocks me, except that I’m quite sure I was somewhere warm before I was expelled out here. Which doesn’t really make sense considering the fact that I was dying out in the cold and one of my last memories before I arrived here (wherever the fuck here is) was my hands going numb out of sheer coldness.

Before I can ruminate on that thought, and why I’m quite certain that I was cocooned somewhere warm and dark—

Someone slaps me­­—slaps me somewhere unmentionable.

I blink.

I breathe.

I scream.

***

I hear voices. It all sounds foreign­­—musical, almost, and I can’t understand a single word. It sounds like I’m underwater, and like my ears are filled with water, and quite frankly: like I don’t know what’s going on.

I’m freezing. I’m wet­­—or well, I’m not wet but rather am covered in something that I’m trying my hardest not to think about.

I’m moved from person to person, and the fact that I can be carried like this, as though I was not a full-grown adult, but something in need of protection, as though I was something frail made me scream harder.

I’m sponged down, no longer as sticky and feeling a great deal warmer than I was moments ago. It occurs to me then that I was naked. No wonder I was cold.

I feel indignant. Scared. Overwhelmed.

Really, all I want to do is go to sleep, and figure out what the actual fuck is happening later, once the confusion and tiredness and overstimulation ends.

So that’s what I decide to do. My screams (my cries) peter out until I’m almost hiccoughing, and I’m finally bought to rest on someone’s arms, and bought up to their chest.

It soothes me almost instantly, and at this point I can’t be bothered to figure out why.

The last thing I hear before I finally sleep is, “Félicitations, c'est une fille!”

My last thoughts are ‘Am I a fucking reincarnate?’

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We need like “unclench your jaw” posts but for eye strain. Like

Go look at something 20ft away for 20 seconds.