I learned here that there can be no true despair without hope. So, as I terrorize Gotham, I will feed its people hope to poison their souls. I will let them believe they can survive so that you can watch them clamoring over each other to stay in the sun. You can watch me torture an entire city and when you have truly understood the depth of your failure, we will fulfill Ra’s al Ghul’s destiny… We will destroy Gotham and then, when it is done and Gotham is ashes, then you have my permission to die.
According to the episode synopsis for 5x12, Oliver and Felicity (and the team) are going to Russia for a mission.
First of all, this gives me all sorts of thoughts that I will gather in a later post. If I can stop my Olicity -starved heart from going into meltdown.
Oliver and Felicity are going to Russia!!!!!
Now, my rational side is telling me that they are going to Russia because Oliver is trying to track down the woman who taught Prometheus *coughTommycough* that twirly move he did in 5x09. This will see the introduction of Talia Al Ghul (Yes!) And maybe another piece of the puzzle will fall into place.
I was thinking about the fact that Oliver met Talia in Russia before he returned. He never even let onto the fact that he knew her to Nyssa or Ra’s. But remember in 2x05, I think, when Sara revealed that she was a member of the league of assassins, Oliver knew who they were. He knew who Ra’s Al Ghul was and what he was capable of. Is this how he knew? Talia?
We saw Talia on Legends when she was just a kid and I think that was in the 50’s? I could be wrong. She must have had access to water from the pit or some kind of magic to keep herself so young looking. Also what if she was on the run from the league and that’s how she ended up in Russia. She made Oliver promise not to tell anyone who she was or that she was alive. Or maybe she died and was brought back using the pit. But no one knows. Or maybe Oliver didn’t know who she really was, she just told him she was in hiding from the league.
What if she trained Prometheus, because she is the one who brought him back from the dead?
What if Oliver betrayed Talia in Russia before he came back home, that’s how he ended up back on the island, hiding from her or maybe she dumped him back there for betraying her. Ever since then, Talia has been biding her time. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Her father is dead. The league is disbanded. She can finally return and exact her revenge.
Hello female big bad!
Whether Prometheus is Tommy, Clayborne’s son or someone else, it can still fit in with having Talia as the real big bad.
IM FUCKIGN WHEEZING DICK ACCIDENTALLY KILLS RA’S AL GHUL AND BRUCE IS JUST LIKE “Talia will hate me for this.” BUT THEN TALIA JUST GLANCES AT HER DAD’S DEAD BODY LIKE ITS NOTHING AND ALFRED IS ON THE LINE SAYING “Don’t worry, his deaths are usually temporary.” 😭😭😭😂
Jason prided himself in being a man of great literary tastes.
Therefore, this had to be done.
“What the hell are you doing, Todd?”
Jason hesitated for a mere second before continuing to pull books from Damian’s personal bookshelves. “Doing what needs to be done. Look at this!” he cried dramatically, but with a hint of anger. “Aristotle? Plato?!”
Damian’s brows furrowed into a pout and he walked further into his room. “What is wrong with Plato and Aristotle? They were both respected and brilliant philosophers-,”
“In ancient Greece!” the older brother turned and almost slammed the thick volumes on the table behind him before whirling around and resuming his job, almost hellbent now. “No modern literature!”
“Well, I don’t generally find the concept of dystopian futures and ridiculous love triangles to be very appealing, Todd, so no-,”
“You haven’t even gotten any Romantics!” Jason threw his hands in the air, sounding offended. “How on earth do you not have any Romantics?!”
Damian’s frown deepened and he stepped closer, picking up one of the discarded books and running his hand over the cover. “I read Frankenstein, Todd, and honestly, why is it that much of a concern to you-,”
“Frankenstein is Gothic you brat.” The man snapped, throwing more books onto the table in exasperation. His expression turned sour when he returned to the shelves before him, hand skimming down three whole rows with a scowl. “Shakespeare. More Shakespeare.”
“I will have you know, Todd, that William Shakespeare was a brilliant author and you have no right to disrespect him in such a manner!” the 13-year-old barely caught the 2 special edition sonnet books that Jason tossed backward before they flew across the room. “He is-,”
“And, oh look! More Shakespeare!” Jason interrupted again, earning a grumpy huff from his younger sibling.
“I like the wordsmith.” Damian rolled his eyes and gently, almost lovingly, placed the thin novels on the table with the others. He looked up to find Jason grabbing several more volumes into his arms and looking over the next few rows.
“Read some goddamn Thoreau, you literary piece of shit.” He snapped, eyebrows furrowing in disgust. “Better yet, Hemingway. Anthony Burgess, that’s some weird shit. You’d probably like that.”
The boy sighed, stomping up next to his older brother and placing his arms outstretched. “Give me back my Shakespeare, Todd.”
“Are these History books?!” Jason asked, voice going up an octave in disbelief.
“You read these for leisure?!” He sounded on the verge of a breakdown.
Damian crossed his arms. “Mother has always taught me to know the valuable knowledge of this world, and that includes their history.”
Jason slowly turned his head towards his little brother, eyes narrowed in anger. He growled; He would not have his little brother so unexposed to good literature! Talia had brainwashed him with all this non-fiction stuff, he needed some good fantasy! “Your mother is a monster!”
Damian rolled his eyes again. “I do believe that has been greatly accepted in this family, Todd, but this is the first time I am hearing it being used to insult my knowledge of “modern” literature.”
“You have 5 copies of Dracula?!” Jason slammed the Shakespeare novels on Damian’s bed and shuffled through the books with vigor. Suddenly, he drew away and cast a glance to his little brother. “You’ve read Jane Eyre?”
His green eyes became unamused. “Once. Never again.”
“The Great Gatsby, The Odyssey, the Tale of Two Cities, Sherlock Holmes, Charles Dickens, The Art of War?!” Jason scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “All of these classics!”
“I thought you liked classical literature, Todd,” Damian said pointedly. “Father told me that when you were a child you greatly enjoyed the times when he or Pennyworth would read them to you. Why are you so upset about me having them?”
“I am not upset that you have them, Short Stop.” He hissed. “I am upset that you have them and not other books!”
“What other books, Todd?”
Jason was appalled. He knew that Damian had been raised with a bit of a traditional childhood, but he didn’t know that it was this severe.
Gesturing to the bookshelves, he almost shouted, “Harry Potter! Percy Jackson! Some Narnia maybe?”
“Narnia is not a modern series, Todd,” Damian added with another eye roll. “It was written by C. S. Lewis in the 1940’s and was-,”
“More modern than these!” Jason interrupted. His eyes raked over the last few books in Damian’s collection and his heart puttered to a stop. Realization hit him and he turned, ever so slowly, almost without breathing, and whispered. “Tolkien.”
The newly teen raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“WHERE THE FUCK IS TOLKIEN?”
“Are those the books that you were so enthusiastic about as a child-,”
“HOW THE EVERLIVING FUCK CAN YOU NOT HAVE TOLKIEN?”
“I do believe that you are overreacting, Todd. They’re merely books.”
Jason froze, completely, arms outstretched in anger and eyes wide.
How dare he.
“We’re going to the bookstore,” Jason stated, grabbing Damian’s hand and dragging him towards the door. “We are going to fix this atrocious disaster and then I am going to piss on your mother’s grave. Come on.”
“Todd-what- let go of me!”
“WE ARE GOING TO FIX YOU, DAMMIT!”
“Todd, unhand me this instant!”
“YOU HAVE TO KNOW ABOUT GANDALF! AND FARAMIR! AND SAM! YOU CAN’T GET A SINGLE DAY OLDER WITHOUT KNOWING ABOUT SAMWISE FUCKING GAMGEE!”
Damian will never admit it, but later that night, when he is seated in front of Todd, cross-legged and quiet as Jason reads The Fellowship of the Ring to him, using all different types of accent for the many different characters, he hasn’t been happier all week.
Whore4batfam posted a little thing a while ago about Jason sorting through Damian’s books and I just couldn’t help myself. They’re idea, my little ficlet thing!
Prompt: batmom meets Talia and there’s a lot of tension between them because of their history with Bruce and Talia wanting to take Damian back to the League of Assassins
Requested by: @shyinfluencer2017
The station is larger than you imagined, and you’re not quite sure where you’re going. At this point you’re just following instinct. You move through the halls, Dick’s call still fresh in your mind. “Mom, it’s Bruce. You need to come now … it’s bad.” You hadn’t been able to make out anything after that, the tears had muffled his voice too much.
As you turn the final corner it’s to see your boys, and the entire league. You try not to think about how bad it must be, for those looks to be on their faces. You pause for a moment, cherishing the last few minutes that you pretend everything’s okay. Then you rush forward.
The boys see you immediately, and it takes no prompting, they rush to you. Despite having been taller than you for several years now, the oldest three seem so small, and Damian, your poor sweet baby, he seems so scared. They cling to you, and you do your best to comfort all of them assuring each of them that it’s going to be okay.
After they’ve calmed down a bit you move forward and then you stop. There’s no love lost between you and Talia. You’ve seen the woman maybe twice in the four years since Damian has come to live with you. She’s no mother in your eyes, and she certainly doesn’t have a claim to your son.
You decide to focus more on the doctor. He confirms what Dick said on the phone. It’s not looking good, and it will all depend on the surgery. There’s a less than ten percent chance that Bruce will be able to be the man he was before this. That reassures you in some weird way, Bruce has always been able to beat the odds.
Finally, you take a seat. Your back is hurting, and your ankles are swollen, and technically, you’re supposed to be in bed at the moment. But, extreme times call for extreme measures. One hand goes to rest on your protruding belly, as the boys sit down beside you.
Dick is the first one to break the silence, “So how’d your doctor appointment go? Bruce was so bummed to miss it.”
You smile at that Bruce had been to every pregnancy check before this one. He had been so upset to miss this one. You hadn’t planned this. As far as you were concerned you had your hands full with all the boys. But one glass of wine too many had led to a forgetful night.
Some part of you had expected the boys to be disappointed. But they had met the idea of a new sibling with enthusiasm. In fact, one of the boys would typically go with you and Bruce to the appointment.
“Did the doc finally tell you what you’re having?” Jason asks with a grin “It’s another boy, isn’t? Something tells me Bruce is only for making boys. Look at the squirt.”
Damian scowls at the nickname, but he doesn’t argue with Jason’s statement. If you had expected anyone to be upset about the pregnancy it had been Damian. The boy had clung to his blood tie with Bruce for so long, you had worried about him feeling threatened. Instead, he had taken to the role of big brother rather seriously.
It had started out with him and Tim inspecting everything you ate. Then he had researched everything needed for a helping a healthy baby grow. Classical music had been playing non stop around the manor. Then one day, you had walked into what had been designated as the baby’s room, just to consider paint colors, to find that it had already been painted a soft yellow.
And there was Damian, working on mural. It was this pretty field of flowers, a nature scene. For a while you had just watched him paint before all of a sudden he had simply said, “It’s going to be a girl. And she should have a happy, and pretty place to grow up. Somewhere she can always feel safe.”
You had gone to him, and pulled him in close, not worrying about the paint staining his clothes and said, “Every child should have that Damian. I can only hope Bruce and I provided that for you and your brothers.”
Damian had simply hugged you back and said, “I’ve never felt safer than when I was surrounded by this band of misfits.”
You just laughed, because of course he couldn’t call it what it is, “A family.”
Coming out of the memory you find everyone silent, and you take a moment to examine them. They’re still dressed in their uniforms and they’re covered in dirt.
Quietly you suggest they go shower and change, when they protest, you tease and say that their stench is making you feel ill. That gets them going. A few of the League members inquire after you and the baby. Eventually they too leave, and then it’s just you and her.
Neither of you says anything until you can’t take it anymore and you finally ask, “What are you doing here Talia?”
She turns to face you, radiant as ever, her eyes as cold as ever. “My son and his father needed my assistance?”
“Is that a question or an answer Talia, because I’m not buying it. The boys are too distraught to see it, and the League doesn’t know you well enough to see it, but I do. I know everything about you Talia. I’ve read every part of the file Bruce has on you, and I won’t let you do it.”
She raises an eyebrow at that, “You’d let him die? You must really want his money.” She glances at your stomach, “After all your child is legitimate, and he didn’t even have you sign a prenup.”
You roll your eyes at that, “I care about what Bruce wants, and he told me that under no circumstances was he ever to go into the Pit. If there’s one thing in this world that scares him, it’s what that goop would do to his mind.”
She studies you for a minute, “Then I suppose I’ll take Damian with me when I leave then.”
“You have no right. Bruce and I have full custody. And Damian is just as much my child as any of his brothers.”
She smiles at that, “Is he as much your child as the one in your womb? Blood is thicker than water after all.”
You can’t help but scowl, “I hate that saying, because while I may not have given birth to those boys, while I may not share their blood, I’ve raised them. I’ve attended every parent teacher conference, shown up for every play, taken care of them when they were sick, worried every time they go out on patrol, held them after a girl broke their hearts, watched them grow, watched as they became brothers, and so much more that you will never understand.” At this point you’re right in her face, because you want your meaning to me clear, “Those boys, are my children, and blood has nothing to do with it. You just try and take Damian, and you’ll be the one to need that damn goop,”
She looks down at you amused, “Big words for such a little church mouse. What’s the little pregnant housewife going to do?”
You just smile, “I wasn’t always a housewife Talia. You would know that if you were actually able to find anything on me before Bruce.”
She actually looks a little frightened now, and you know it’s your eyes, they’ve slipped into that same hardness that had made people braver than her panic. You make one last statement, “Leave now Talia, and don’t you ever threaten my children again.”
She leaves, she never turns her back on you but she leaves. You take your seat again, and wait for him to come out of the shadows. You meet Clark’s eyes, and you can finally feel the tears start to build as he wraps an arm around you, you let them out. He just holds you while you cry, because he knows. He and Bruce are the only ones that know about your past, and he knows that it’s Bruce that keeps you grounded, that Bruce is the one that keeps you from slipping. And he knows that if Bruce Wayne dies, as soon as you’re able to, you’ll hunt down the bastard who caused it. And he knows that he’ll have to be the one to stop you.
For that reason Clark Kent prays that Bruce Wayne pulls through, for the boys, for you, and for your unborn baby girl.
The ONE developing relationship I actually am dying to see play out so badly over the course of years and decades above all else in media is the one between the Super Sons. Damian Wayne and Jon Kent.
It’s gonna be an incredible ride if Superman #10 and Superman #11 are anything to go by. These two will be historic just because of who they are and what they will do for the world. And they will be in each other’s lives throughout this.