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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 1 year

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The Enemy of my Enemy is ALSO my Enemy, Part 6

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If nothing else, Jason would like to put on the record that he had tried.

He was so close to being happy, to being revived and having everything be fine, he had watched his own papers drop into his lap and had nearly cried out of sheer joy. It was the first set of paperwork he had done in quite a while – he had joined Melisande and Bucky in giving Gabriel all the things he didn’t want to do, which just so happened to be pretty much everything – but it was worth it. He was going to come back, he was going to be able to see his family again, be able to touch Marinette and Adrien for real. It was amazing.

Which, really, should have been a warning sign for him.

Because, before he had even finished the first page of his stack, a bell had rung.

He glanced up as the hatch in the ceiling opened, more out of habit than anything, and his eyes landed on a familiar face.

He practically fell out of his chair in his haste to get to Marinette, his hand snatching her file out of the air as he went. His free hand landed on her shoulder, shaking vigorously.

“What the hell?” He hissed the moment blue eyes showed a sign of opening.

Marinette blinked blearily at him, her eyebrows drawing together as if she were struggling with a particularly difficult puzzle, and he knew that her consciousness was still not quite tethered to her body yet, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as she shook her harder.

Finally, the final piece of her mind snapped into place, and her own hands came up to rest on his shoulders. Whether this was to get her balance, make him stop, or if she was just that shocked by seeing him, he would never fully know, but as blue eyes peered back into his own, he figured it was probably the last one.

Arms continued on to wrap around him and he gave a tiny gasp as he was pulled into a tight hug.

And he knew he should go back to grilling her, should be screaming about how she was supposed to be done – safe – and that she shouldn’t be here, should question what had happened…

But he indulged himself for just a moment. How could he not? Usually, the hugs he got from her were somewhat hesitant, tainted by the fact that her soul was just barely hanging back with its hands not touching him. They were both there now, for a reason he would get back to soon, but at the moment he was going to enjoy being crushed into her chest, her hands gripping the back of his suit so tightly he could feel her fingernails pricking his skin even through the fabric.

And it had been so long since he’d been able to touch her.

He pressed his face into her shoulder, giving himself a moment to just breathe. She smelled like blood. He hugged her closer. Some terrible part of him wanted to absorb her into his chest, to give her a place within his ribcage where he could make sure she wouldn’t be able to get hurt again.

Every hug has to end eventually, but neither of them seemed all that intent on doing so any time soon.

Which, he supposed, must have been why fate decided to break up their unfortunate little reunion:

“Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng?” A voice said from behind him.

Marinette went tense in his grip.

She slowly picked her head up, peering up at Gabriel Agreste for just a moment.

“It was you,” she said, recognition flickering behind her eyes. “I thought the timing of your heart attack was suspicious, but… it was really you…”

Jason was still close enough to hear her take a deep breath. It was strange, breathing when you were dead because it wasn’t actually necessary, it didn’t feel bad if you simply forgot and you wouldn’t have to gasp for air when you realized you had stopped, so he knew that the breath she took to steady herself was more out of habit than anything.

But, perhaps, because breathing wasn’t something that their bodies needed, the air didn’t have any kind of calming effects for Marinette.

She pulled away from Jason, got out of the chair, and flashed a too-bright smile.

And then she lunged for Gabriel’s throat.

Jason grimaced at the sound of a fist crunching against the man’s skin, definitely breaking something important.

Melisande eyed the fight that had broken out. “Aim for his penis.”

Bucky didn’t even look up from the papers he had taken from Jason’s desk to pick up the slack. “Too predictable. Go for the eyes.”

Those two never had gotten over the whole Hawkmoth situation.

But, to be fair, neither had Jason, so…

He hummed absently as he thumbed through the pages of Marinette’s file. His eyes found their way to the stats that he almost never paid any real mind to, and he grimaced.

She was set to be brought back within the hour. That was good.

What was less good was the way that she had died because of the League of Assassins. He narrowed in on the fortunately not too-graphic description of her bleeding out from several injuries.

He took a deep, steadying breath. The fact that she was there meant that she was set to be revived soon, so, really, no harm done.

Except for the harm that he was going to bring to the League. He was going to be revived soon, he would be perfectly capable of getting his revenge.

… actually…

“Hey, Marinette,” he said.

Her shoulders tensed at his tone. Her fist stopped in midair, still cocked by her ear. She slowly turned to look at him.

“I’m about to be brought back. You got killed at the League. Care to tell me whether that was a coincidence?”

Her mouth opened.

Closed.

Opened again.

She grimaced and looked back down at Gabriel, who was currently a mess of broken limbs and blood and rattling gasps for breath. She sighed and pushed herself off of him to face Jason properly. “Maybe.”

He groaned a little. “When we see Adrien again, we’re having a talk about risks.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Hey, we’re bringing you back. I think it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

Jason did not know how to respond to that. He sighed and reached out, pulling her into another hug. “So are you.”

She giggled and wrapped her wings around him – her hands were very much covered in blood, so this was probably for the best – and he took a moment to appreciate them. He had expected the ladybug wings he had seen on all of the akuma victims, but he supposed it made sense that they would be different. She couldn’t very well revive herself. So, she had been given whatever wings the universe thought would fit her. Apparently, the universe thought she was a bird. One with bright pink wings, so perhaps a flamingo.

He opened his mouth to tell her about it, and perhaps ask why she had ended up with a flamingo being her animal, only for water to fill it.

And then his head was breaching the surface of the water.

He struggled for air, his body automatically starting to go through the motions needed to keep his head above the churning green, his eyes darting around desperately. He knew, logically, what had happened, but his heart pounded in his chest regardless.

Green light bounced off the cave walls. Shouts echoed around him, but they were muted, as if he was still under. The water frothed around them, churning as he worked to pull himself back together in a very literal sense.

There was a frankly alarming number of assassins standing by the edge of the water, refusing to go in on some vague idea that it was too sacred for them to touch, and certainly too good for them to throw weapons in in fruitless hopes that the three of them might somehow manage to die faster than the Pit could heal them.

Adrien stood over both of them. Water crept up his legs like snakes, twining its way up his body, seemingly searching for things to heal. A frankly worrying amount of throwing knives were tucked between his fingers like claws. His usual staff was slung across his back, but he didn’t seem all that interested in using it at the moment.

He heard a gasp nearby and looked over to find Marinette, her hair stuck to her face and blood sloughing off of her in literal waves.

Jason stretched out an achy limb to grab her arm and hook it over his shoulder, kicking back in the water to try and get them both to float while their injuries were forcibly healed.

For a moment, she leaned into him, her face coming to bury itself in his shoulder. She made a strange, wordless whining sound. He squeezed her as best he could.

And then she pushed off of him, groaning a little as she forced herself to stand in the water that, really, was only up to their waists, and yet the act of getting out of it was almost painful. He could feel tiny hands trying to drag him back under by his clothes.

It wasn’t until he was fully standing that his ears popped and he was allowed to hear all of the yelling in full.

“Weapon,” she said.

He blinked at her.

“What weapon do you want?” She clarified.

He glanced back at the assassins. They were yelling something that he was pretty sure meant ‘traitor’. It wasn’t aimed at him, but that only made the anger that had been curling in his stomach since he’d realized Marinette had been killed grow.

“Gun,” he decided. The assassins would get their wish, he would make sure that they wouldn’t touch the Lazarus waters, and if he had to use a gun to forcibly push them back then so be it.

Marinette grinned and pointed a finger gun at him. She flicked her hand upwards like she was shooting it, and, between blinks, he found a red and black gun had appeared in her hand.

He stared at the gun she shoved into his hand for a couple of moments. No matter how many times he might have seen it, he never did get used to the idea of things just popping into existence when she willed them to.

“Infinite ammo,” she said, apparently misinterpreting his silence for wondering how to use it.

He grinned regardless and lifted the pistol.

“So, do we have a plan of escape? Or are we just waiting for Ra’s to get here so he can fight us? Because I’m going to be honest, I don’t really want to fight him.”

Marinette snorted. “Of course we have a plan. Speaking of…” She inclined her head towards Adrien.

He tucked away half of his knives without saying a word and then lifted his hand. Inky blackness danced along his fingertips.

“Are we ready, M’lady?” He asked.

She hummed lightly and reached out, wrapping an arm around them both. She twirled her yoyo once.

And then she launched her yoyo at the nearest stalactite, only giving it a half second to grip the slippery stone before pulling on it.

They were launched through the air.

The people below them screamed, but it wasn’t quite an angry one, not the kind that meant they were going to be attacked. Not yet, at least. They just sounded panicked. Jason glanced back and found that the same inky blackness that had been curling around Adrien’s hand was now spreading through the water at a rapid rate, making it look somehow, impossibly, cracked. The assassins finally streamed into the Lazarus Pit, their need to preserve the sacred waters just barely outweighing their belief that it was not meant for them.

Meanwhile, their group of three touched down on the banks and took off running.

Marinette grabbed him by the hand and dragged him along behind her as she and Adrien sprinted through the halls of the base. Jason knew from the many briefings he had gotten from Bruce and Dick that the place was supposed to be a labyrinth, and he could see dozens of halls whizz past him as they sprinted, and his eyes caught on several tripwires, but neither of them hesitated at any forks in the path. They simply continued on, following a map that was just a little too perfect for him to think that they hadn’t done, at the very least, heavy infiltration to get to this point.

But before he could really think about that too hard, his eyes caught on a group of assassins streaming down the hall after them. Now they were definitely angry – and gaining on them, their weapons raised.

“Alright, I think the Pit should be destroyed now,” Adrien stated the obvious, flexing his fingers once before starting to trail them along the wall as they ran. The stone began to crumble beneath his hand, but the assassins pushed forward regardless, likely hoping to beat the inevitable cave-in.

Jason wasn’t particularly interested in letting that happen.

He picked off the assassins at the front with his gun. He hadn’t used one before, not really, but they weren’t particularly difficult things to use, and he wasn’t really concerned about being accurate. All he needed to do was slow them down, anyways.

He told himself he didn’t get a bit of a rush when he watched them keel over backward, blood and guts and viscera spraying from wherever he had hit. That he didn’t enjoy watching them get buried under rubble. That it was a bad thing that people were dying.

But, really, should you really expect someone that had been surrounded by magic for years to not pick up a few quirks?

And they had killed Marinette.

A strange grin spread across his face as the last of the rocks settled, dust sticking to skin that was wet with water and sweat and blood and who knows what else.

But they continued running. There was no telling how many assassins were stationed around the place and, even if they might be somewhat distracted, they didn’t want to test it.

Their fears were for nothing, it seemed, because they came upon a door.

And, well, he probably should have wondered why things were going quite so smoothly. Honestly, it should have been a larger red flag. That never happened in the field, especially not for him.

A hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt and he gasped as the front of it dug into his neck. He wasn’t given much time to recuperate, though, because a knife was quick to replace the fabric. It wasn’t pressed down, certainly not enough to strangle him like his shirt had, and yet he still couldn’t find it in himself to breathe.

Marinette and Adrien jerked to a stop as well, though they weren’t exactly forced to in the way that Jason had. Honestly, the way that they paused was somewhat unnatural. There was no loss of momentum, no skidding of shoes against the ground. One moment they were running, the next they were not. He wondered, idly, if the magic they wielded might be having just as much of an effect on them as it did on the rest of the world.

Could you tell that Jason was trying very hard to not think about the sharp point currently pressing against his skin?

“You’re traitors,” the assassin said, and apparently she was female. Whoo. Diversity win. The person about to kill Jason again is a woman.

He was going to cry.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we are. Congrats on figuring it out. Do you want a prize?” she said, moving to raise her hand in sarcastic jazz hands.

“Don’t move,” the assassin hissed.

Something akin to frustration flickered across Marinette’s face momentarily, but she didn’t move. It was then that Jason noticed that her fingers were surrounded by some kind of strange, gooey substance.

Adrien tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “How about we all let everything we’re holding go? I’m sure we can talk this out.”

The assassin seemed unimpressed. “You first.”

Adrien hummed a little, and then raised his hands, letting his knives clatter to the floor.

Marinette showed off empty hands.

The assassin seemed to realize that their being empty-handed meant nothing. Or, perhaps, that it did mean something – that their hands were now free to warp the world as they wished.

The knife dug further into his neck. He didn’t realize how much he liked the cold gleam of the metal until he could feel warm blood dripping down his skin.

“Disappointing,” Adrien sighed, giving a smile befitting of the model he once was. It was perfect, but there was nothing genuine about it, and his eyes flashed coldly.

“You were both talented. Fix the Pit and let me kill this boy, and you just might not make an enemy of the League.”

Marinette hummed, her head tilting to the side at a just slightly unnatural angle. She turned her head to look at Adrien, who seemed, remarkably, even less enthused than she did.

The assassin gave a theatrical sigh that didn’t quite cover up the cold smile starting to play across her features. “I suppose I’ll just have to make you fix it, then.”

Jason tipped his head back to rest against the woman’s shoulder. The knife followed him, but that wasn’t why he’d done it.

He pressed the gun against her side. Tilted at a careful angle that would, at the very least, puncture her lungs upon firing.

“Sorry. I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

He pulled the trigger.

Pain seared through him and he bit down on his tongue to stifle a scream.

And then he was on his ass, groaning and cursing as he hit the tile. The world had transformed. His eyes darted around desperately, as if he somehow still wasn’t sure that he was dead even though he knew what a slash across the throat meant, but he was disappointed to find the same office walls that he had practically grown up in. Two people leaned over him, and tears began to sting as he recognized Melisande and Bucky.

“What, kid, did you forget something here?” Bucky asked, his expression somewhere between mildly pained and amused.

Melisande gave him a cold look and jabbed him in the side.

Bucky didn’t even seem to notice. He caught a file with a green tab sticking out of it in a practiced motion and, after giving him a tiny pat on the head, went back to work.

Jason scrambled to his feet, drawing red and black wings close to try and comfort himself. But he couldn’t. He was dead. Again. How long would he be there this time? Did he even want to know?

Fuck.

Everything he did brought him back here. His original life. Dealing with Hawkmoth. And now he couldn’t even escape properly. Every road always led to death, that was the price of living, but this was different. Every road for him led him back to purgatory. He strangled a sob. At least, if he died, things would be over, but now he had to go back to waiting. Until Marinette and Adrien were able to get back to the Pit, or maybe even later. Maybe he would have to wait for someone else to revive him, and surely that was worse. What if the face he saw when he was brought back wasn’t friendly? What if he got sent right back here again?

Damn it.

He curled in on himself, ignoring the fact that he was doing so in a public space and that everyone could still see him.

Melisande grimaced as she looked down at Jason. She pulled the boy to his feet and he simply allowed it, unable to muster the energy to really stop her. He wanted to cry, but that, at least, was too far for him. He could handle having a breakdown in the middle of an office building, but crying was worse.

But understandable.

Too bad he didn’t feel like understanding much at the moment.

He groaned and looked around. He was somewhat pleased to find Gabriel Agreste still on the floor. He was moving, but just barely. After a couple of moments, he walked over and stomped on the man’s neck. It didn’t matter, he was 99% sure people here couldn’t die, but the wheeze and wide eyes that he got from the man were more than a little relieving.

At least, if he was back here, he would be able to rag on Gabriel again. Fuck that guy. He deserved every punch and kick and extra file Jason was going give him over the next however many years.

He tried to laugh. It came out a sob.

Melisande reached a hand out for him, and then stopped, apparently thinking better of it.

Maybe she shouldn’t have, because the hand would have done him quite a lot of good. He nearly fell to the floor again, his hands coming down to rest on a nearby table were the only thing that kept his knees from buckling fully. He took a few deep breaths, matching the desperate gasps he could hear Gabriel make as the man clawed desperately at his throat. He couldn’t help but smile a little at the sound.

The smile, like his life, didn’t last very long.

He groaned and let himself sink toward the ground.

He closed his eyes.

And then the world around him tilted on an axis and he cried out.

Something rough, but not wholly terrible, dug into his back. He flung his eyes open, but it didn’t do him much good. Red and black danced in his vision, moving so fast that he wanted to be sick.

All at once, it all disappeared and he found himself staring into brilliant green eyes.

He stared uncomprehendingly for a few moments.

Oh.

Relief flooded into him.

Ladybug had summoned the gun he’d been using. Which meant that a miracle cure was more than possible. And, now that he thought about it, his wings had been black and red.

Maybe, later, he would feel embarrassed about his little freakout. He had been trained better, really, he was supposed to pay attention to his surroundings, and most certainly himself, but…

But, for now, he grabbed Adrien by the front of his shirt and dragged him into a hug.

Adrien made a quiet squeaking sound, throwing his hands out in front of him to stop himself from unwillingly tackling Jason further into the grass, but he recovered quickly. He looped his arms around him and tucked Jason’s head under his chin. The hug wasn’t quite as tight as the one he had gotten from Marinette, it was looser, softer. More of a hand carding through his hair and the faint smell of something floral on the breeze and slotting in perfectly against a slightly-too-thin frame.

“Guys…” Marinette said after a few moments. “We really should be going.”

Adrien didn’t even move, though his hand twitched like he was about to make a rude gesture but thought better of it. “No. You got a heartfelt hug or whatever, I get one, too.”

She rolled her eyes, but her expression was nothing but fond. “Fine. I’ll stand guard.”

Adrien gave a little hum, and Jason’s nose scrunched just slightly when his throat vibrated by his ear, but that just made the blond laugh a little and press closer to him.

Jason was pretty sure that they could have stayed there forever but, eventually, his stomach growled and his face flushed pink as he drew back. “Right. Revived. I have to have food now.”

Adrien gave a tiny grin and carefully got to his feet. He offered Jason his hand, and he didn’t even hesitate before taking it.

“Alright, Mari, you can relax now.”

Marinette popped out of a bush. Jason did not see her get into the bush, but she was out of it now. He has chosen to just accept this.

She grinned at him and stretched her arms over her head. “Where are we gonna eat?”

“Could you make something at the house?” Offered Adrien. “I’m sure Plagg and Tikki want to get out and eat, too.”

Marinette hummed lightly. “Fine. I’ll whip up some food before we abandon the place. Can we –?”

“No, we’re not going to burn the house down once we’re done with it.”

Marinette sighed and looked at Jason.

Jason hesitated before shrugging. “I mean. As long as its a controlled fire and there’s no one around to get hurt, I don’t see why we can’t...”

Adrien groaned. Marinette whooped.

There weren’t any hard feelings, though.

They started off towards their house. Their house, because this was home. Jason took them both by the hand, and neither of them so much as flinched. Marinette intertwined their fingers. Adrien swung their arms back and forth.

After a few moments, Marinette huffed. “I’m offended that you’re taller than me now.”

He, too, hated that he was so large. It was throwing him off more than he’d ever admit out loud.

However…

“Yeah. That’s because you’re my baby sister.”

“Listen here, you little shit –.”

“I spent years in the afterlife, so I’m older.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, biologically, I’m older –.”

“We don’t even know that for sure –.”

Adrien sighed. “Guys, we just got the gang back together… or whatever the Americans say… can we just enjoy being together for a couple of minutes?”

Marinette and Jason glared at each other around Adrien for a moment before settling. He was right, after all…

Adrien’s eyes gleamed. “But, for the record, you’re the youngest.”

“Ha!”

“Oh, you conniving bitch –!”

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lunamugetsu · 6 months

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Delivery!

Flash was currently being held captive in a black of ice. How he got like this he wasn't sure. All he remembered was that he was running across Central City keeping the peace until suddenly an ice beam shot out of nowhere and froze his feat to the ground.... and the rest of him.

"Alright you got me! Show your face!"

"Well I was going to regardless. No need to yell." Out pops Danny Phantom carrying a bag with him and holding out an envelope.

"What? Who are you?"

"My name's Phantom. Danny Phantom. I have a message for you. I couldn't get your attention earlier so I thought this was just the next best way to get you to stop." Danny said as he unfreezes the speedster.

"Uh, okay." Flash said as Danny gives him an envelope.

On the envelope there are drawing in crayon and stickers and in marker it says: to Flash.

"It's from Susie, she'd said you'd remember her."

He remembered a Susie, a little girl that he used to see in the children's hospital. She had leukemia. He spent any minute he could making sure the kid was smiling when he was there. He was heartbroken when the nurses told him that she had passed away before he could give her her birthday present. Flash examined the crayon written words, it was just like Susie's writing.

"How did you?"

"Just read it."

The letter reads:

Dear Flash,

I'm sorry, I wasn't there when you showed up for my birthday. I never got to tell you, but thank you for being at the hospital with me when I was scared of going to treatment or when I had to take my medicine. Thank you for making me smile even when I didn't feel well. Thank you for playing games with me when I couldn't go outside. Thank you for talking to my mom and dad at my funeral. That was really nice. I drew some pictures for you but I never got to finish them when I was in the hospital so I drew you some new ones. Danny says that he'll give them to you.

In the envelope was a series of different colored papers all with different crayon and marker drawings of Susie and him playing in different scenarios. One where she was a doctor and he played the injured patient. One where they were both superheroes. Another one where they were playing shadow puppets when she wasn't feeling well. Page after page were different drawings of them playing with the last one was covered in glitter with a big heart with a crayon drawing of him and Susie.

"Susie said that her biggest regret was that she couldn't say thank you to her hero before she passed. So I bumped her up on my delivery list."

"What?"

"Oh yeah, I never fully introduced myself. I'm Danny Phantom, you can call me Danny. I'm the designated delivery person for the afterlife to the living realm. Any messages or special requests from the dead are delivered by me!" Danny hands him a business card all official.

And it does say: Danny Phantom special delivery service for those of the non-living variety!

"She also said she wanted to give you one last hug before moving on."

"What do you?" Flash is halted from saying anything else as he feels a pressure against his legs. He looks down to see a translucent small figure. She was a picture of what she looked like before the chemo. Susie gives him a smile and a hug before fading before his eyes.

Before Danny officially takes up the mantle of Ghost King he's trying to do a job that would have him interact with all of his citizens first so he could get a feel of it. Hence him making connections with both the living and non-living people (he went big-brain for this idea)

Extra scene:

"Oh that reminds me, I have a card for you from someone else."

"A card?" Flash opens the card only to get sucker-punched in the face. (like one of those cartoon boxing glove punches)

"A punch card." Danny said

Flash groans as he looks at the card that has the words: STOP MESSING WITH TIME! from CW

Obligatory Gotham Scene:

Danny standing in front of a beaten up Joker that has been tied to a chair.

"Just so you know I have a back order of a lot special requests for you. And since I can't exactly kill you, that would create so much political tape. I can let them make requests for certain actions. So right now I have over 50 requests for me to break your legs and over 30 to pull out your teeth and break your jaw. Some of them contradict each other because they want to make every word you say hurt you but others want me to curse you so you can't speak again. So I'll just have to get creative." Danny says winding his arm back and form.

He is for sure being completely professional about, he gets no personal gratification from beating up a crazy clown at all. (said nobody ever)

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom x dc #the flash #barry allen #dpxflash #dp x dc prompt #Can you imagine a scenario of Danny just walking into the Wayne manor and just holding out a care package for the whole batfamily #This is from your Grandma and Grandpa #And gives Alfred his own separate care package along with a message of thanks for how much the butler does for the family #Danny's just like “this is for the crime fighting family with the furry theme going on”

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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months

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Cave boy Danny. What if he offhandedly mentions his parents being THERE (as in not dead) and being Doctors (not the same kind of doctors Bruce's parents are) and things like that and doesn't realize that the batfam starts thinking that this? This is what's different with this Bruce. He didn't lose his parents and thus does not grow up wanting vengeance, and his parents are similar in personalities but in a different field!

Now Danny is still as casual young Bruce as ever but the others are just freeking out around him.

Things are strange for a while. Danny knows that his actions have caused the Waynes to be....wary around him. Even Jason- who honestly threw a whole ass parade for Gotham in celebration of Joker's death- seemed to be tense around him.

Danny can't really say he blames them. He still doesn't know why Phantom reacted the way it did- a bit alarming. His ghost side marked Joker as a threat from the moment it laid eyes on him- a threat that could not and would not be reasoned with.

His ghost -half attacked, knowing that Joker's existence threatened his core. A core that was created from the desire to keep his friends safe at the moment of his death. (He had known he would die the moment the portal's electricity hit him- and Danny had not been mournful of his end but rather horrified that Tucker or Sam could have followed him to the afterlife. His last thought as a human was Please let me live long enough to keep them safe.)

Never has that happened before- not even when faced with Vlad or Dan. It was strange to watch Phantom attack and not be in equal amounts of control within his body.

Phantom has always felt a part of him but also not. Danny had once tried to explain it to Jaz, only to end up frustrated when she tried to paint Phantom as a different personality that shared the mind-space with Danny.

Danny knows Phantom isn't like that.

He's not another person- Phantom is Danny in the same sense that Danny is alive but dead. For the same reason, Danny is the flipped color scheme of Phantom. They are one, just viewed differently.

Or maybe they saw the world differently?

It's hard to say and even harder to put into words.

The closest Danny could come to explain was an example Tucker gave him. Someone is the same but acts ultimately differently online, even when they aren't trying to catfish someone.

It's the fact they are behind a screen that gives them just the extra amount of courage. Tuck had said.

Ancients, he misses Tuck. His ship is not ready to venture into his Ghost Zone- hell, if Danny is honest, it's barely able to move. He is trying his best to get it working, but it's slow going. Too slow, even with Wayne's generosity.

"Master Brucie," Alfred started, pausing just within the doorframe of Danny's room until invited in. He does that now, keeping to his manners as though Danny was a guest of the Waynes. Not someone who he can be so familiar with.

It stings to know his killing had lost him the right to be treated as a stranger when Alfred had always treated him as young Bruce Wayne the moment he was found.

"Yes?" He asks, trying to smile. It falls flat, but it's worth the effort.

Alfred's face stays impassive, and Danny tries to tell himself that he doesn't care. He's not a young Bruce Wayne. He wants nothing to do with the Wyanes'.

"There are more gifts for you." The bulter says. "Shall I bring them to your room?"

Danny has received a lot of fan mail since his actions were leaked to the public. Everyone knew that Joker was taken out by Danny Kane. And there wasn't a single person in Gotham who hadn't been hurt or known someone injured by the madman.

He is being praised as a hero.

For murder.

Danny can't find it in himself to feel guilty about it. Joker needed to die. He had too many chances to change, and too many people got hurt.

"That's okay. I'll go downstairs and look through them. I feel like watching a movie anyway." He shrugs his shoulders while strolling to the door in his lazy stride.

Alfred steps out of his way, bowing ever so slightly. "Very good sir."

Sir.

That stings.

Danny doesn't bring it up or mention that Alfred keeps a safe space between them. Not enough that it would be rude, but definitely one of a servant following a master instead of a man who thought him the younger version of his son.

When they arrive at the room, he is surprised to find a white shipping cart filled to the brim with packages and letters waiting for him. Standing beside the cart, flipping through the envelopes, is Tim.

He has yet to see much of Tim. Not since Danny proved his doubts weren't as unfound as Danny actively tried to convince the other teen of.

No time like the present.

"Hey, Tim." He calls just to mentally get the other prepared for his approach. As expected, Tim whips around with a narrow eye-ed glare that does nothing to hide his distaste for Danny. Alfred follows them into the room but stays by the door at an appropriate distance. "Anything good?"

"Good, how?" Tim bites, and Danny fights to not roll his eyes.

"I don't know. Maybe a letter from my mom saying I'm a good boy or another football from dad-"

"I beg your pardon?" Alfred cuts him off- which, okay, that's never happened before. The butler has never overstepped his position- even when they thought him harmless little Brucie- to talk over him.

Danny turns to find the man pasty white, looking both cautiously overjoyed and wishful. "Did you make a joke about your parents, Master Brucie?"

"Ugh, Yeah? Why?"

"Young sir, are- are your parents alive?"

Danny is floored by the choked-up emotion in that one sentence that all he can do is nod. Tim drops the package he was checking over, his jaw slacked, and staring at Danny like having parents was the answer of the universe.

"Thomas and Martha Wayne are alive in your universe.." Tim all but breaths. "They are alive and have more than one kid."

"Why is that a big deal?" Danny asks, unable to himself. "What happened to Bruce's parents here?"

"Master Thomas was a doctor," Alfred says, ignoring Danny's question. But he now hears the answer in the past tense when referring to Bruce's parents. "Is he still in your world?"

"Yes, and so is my mom." PHD doctors, but they don't need to know that.

"That's why you like this." Tim slumps into the chair closest to him. Danny is mightily alarmed that he seems pale now. "That's why you don't know anything about Batman. He was never inspired. You....you really are a civilian."

Danny will deny that he fleed the room when Tim burst into tears till the day he died. He does not look back even when Alfred yells for his return. He has outstayed his welcome.

He slips into his room, grabs anything not nailed down with any form of technology, and then activates his intangibility. He sinks down down, and down, to the caves. He knows where the Bats work, knows where to go from his nights where he tried to work on ship.

He flies in that direction, knowing he will never see the Waynes again. Not after realizing how much pain his lies have unwillingly caused.

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #cave boy #part 7 #Tim is sad that Danny is what Bruce could have been #evil or good Bruce always lost his parents #Alfred was also shocked.#Danny is running

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bet-on-me-13 · 1 year

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Danny runs for Mayor P.2

kgned3Part 1

Some more snippets of the Gotham Mayor Danny AU!

...

Danny would absolutely try to hire some of the Rouges as his Mayoral Cabinet, I can just imagine Waylon Jones, the Killer Croc, in a Suit and Slacks sitting in a the Mayors Office while awkwardly holding his resume.

Danny: So, Mr. Jones, why do you think we should hire you? Waylon: Well sir, I have something of a reputation and I feel like I would be an amazing Bodyguard. Danny: OK, one question though. What is your opinion on Clowns? Waylon: I don’t like them. Danny: Hired!

...

Danny: Now, Mr Nygma, what do you think you would bring to my office? Edward: Well sir, I am fairly well known for my expert planning and timing skills. Also I can give you fun riddles whenever you want! Danny: Hmmm, that’s definitely a good point. One question, if needed, will you attack a clown on sight? Edward: Yes? Danny: Hired!

...

Danny: Now, I can see that you used to have a very reputable resume Mr. Dent. Harvey: Thank you sir. Danny: I can’t see any reason to refuse your application, but I do have one question. Do you like Clowns? Harvey: Uhm...yes? Danny: I am sorry dir, but I am going to have to reject your application for a job in the Mayors office. Mr Jones, please escort this man out

...

Danny would absolutely do an amazing job in decreasing the crime rate, just by virtue of the fact that his very presence is destabilizing the Curses put on the City.

But at the same time, his policies are also very efficient, based on Gen Z Humor/Ideas

Danny: As my new Law states, every year the most rich person in the City will be forced to give up 70% of their assets to Charity. You can avoid this by donating as much as possible in the weeks leading up to the Sacrifice Day, whoever donates the most is exempt from the choosing even if they are the Richest, we will then move on to the second Richest, and so on Reporter: Sir, isn’t this just the “Winner Of Capitalisms” Prompt from Tumblr? Danny: Yes.

...

Batman: Why did you just pass a Law that states that all Vigilantes are given the right to kill? Danny: Because I accidentally hired every villain in Gotham, so now there is nobody to try and bribe me. And if nobody tries to bribe me, then nobody realizes that I will only accept bribes if the Joker is dead, like I said in my Campaign. I know that you guys have a no-kill rule, but I know at least one of you who would jump at the chance Batman: *realizes that Dick has already killed the Joker once, Jason is actively attempting to every day, Tim is chaos incarnate and would do it to feel included, and Damian just really wants to let loose* Well played...

...

Danny: Vlad, I am serious. Leave me alone or I will put you in Soup Jail for 3 months! Vlad: FINE! I’ll just go possess another Billionaire to force them to give me their company again Batman, listening from outside the window: What the f-

...

Danny in every conversation with the Batfamily: I re-respect your decision to not tak-take a life...but I must insist you kill the Joker...for the good of the peephol-People! He is not a good inf-influence on this city and he must be des...troyed. Batman: *Wondering why he sounds like he is reading from a script* Um, I don’t think thats a good idea? Lady Gotham: *Standing behind Batman with some Cue Cards, trying to communicate with her Knights through Danny* *Thumbs Up* Danny: Also I wanted to say that you need to- oh um, ok- to get over the deaths of your parents and grieve in a healthy way instead of adopting every child you see. You are doing a great job kid, parentheses, do not read this par- Oh-Oops. Batman: Hm. I’m not even going to question that anymore.

...

Tag List:

@skulld3mort-1fan @kgne-k @deatlive @alcorbearson @we-ezer @auralykos @dakkapel @alinmenttreasure @lord-of-0blivion @countessdragon @naluforever3 @fylylowo @shadow-otaku20 @dannyphantomphan @heirxofxtime @ourrechte-blog @fantasticbluebirdfan @imnotgrimmjustagrumpyreader @mssagoberattare @elvesandlanterns @space-dreams-world @lizz-blizt @stargirl1331 @totallysmores-blog @screamingtofillthevoid @malice-of-the-sunrise @olivethetreebitch @addie-lover-of-stories @thatonegaybitch68 @asphyxia778 @top7879 @biance-hooks123 @runfromthemedic @dionysuss-big-naturals @the-legal-shipper @icepopstar5105us @

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thedaythatwas · 1 month

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something I appreciate about akechi as a character is that he never seems to think hmm, maybe I should emotionally distance myself from joker, because being invested in him could end up being bad for me when I need to kill him. the vengeance-oriented character goro is made out to be at first glance ought to think like this, but NO! goro akechi is NOT (just) that guy!

from the beginning, akechi goes above and beyond the minimum requirements of getting intel on joker and gaining his trust. he says, I’ll go the extra mile! I’m going to follow him around, inside and outside the metaverse. we’re going to talk about my dead mom. I’m going to insist that we’re RIVALS! I’ll spend so long thinking about all the reasons I hate him that it’ll become obvious to everyone around me— even joker’s (not a) cat— that what I feel isn’t really hate but something much more complex. obviously, this will make killing him that much more gratifying, because our lives are now intertwined! HA! take that joker! I WIN!

I believe this… interesting… thought process has something to do with akechi’s central motivation being more than just a desire for vengeance. he also desperately craves approval and recognition. akechi is not actually all that pragmatic. he’s highly driven by emotion, sometimes at the cost of logic (I mean… his revenge plot isn’t all that mature or well-thought through. it’s basically suicidal).

this considered, it seems that becoming akiren’s rival would be second nature to goro. it gives him a veritable cornucopia of things he craves. winning their “game” allows him to feel recognized for his worth. just playing it gives him opportunities to feel seen and known. being a rival is addictive. he gets the chance to embrace the anger he cultivates towards akiren and the rush of putting him at the center of his thoughts. their rivalry is by far the most intimate relationship akechi has. and so, he gets more and more tangled up with joker— and in his feelings about joker— regardless of any risk that poses to his plans. distancing himself would go against goro’s every instinct.

being akiren’s rival is tied to akechi’s vengeance, but somewhere along the line, “besting joker” evolves to be about more than plotting against shido. this is probably for similar reasons as to why akechi’s desire for vengeance against his father was never purely about “vengeance” at all.

of course, this comes with the pesky, entirely predictable side effect of akechi getting a bit obsessed. oh well! it doesn’t end up stopping him from trying to carry out his order to kill akiren.

regardless of how events actually unfold, akechi’s feelings are a clean-cut liability to his revenge plot. a rational character would probably want to avoid such an obvious crack in his armor. this to say, as intelligent as akechi is, he’s not really all that rational. there’s a difference! he’s not who he appears to be at first glance, or even second or third glance. he’s not the detective prince, or an assassin with tunnel vision for vengeance, or even just plain angry. akechi wants to be needed, and he’ll do anything to chase that feeling.

so yeah, it would’ve been nice if he had found a homoerotic rival before the shido revenge plot debacle happened! alas.

#I was thinking about why akechi seems to like akiren calling him his rival so much and this… happened #like many goro things tldr he wants to be wanted soooo bad #rivalry can be something so personal and also healing and also self-destructive and ALSO gay #persona 5 #goro akechi #akiren #shuake

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starry-bi-sky · 9 months

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Childhood Friends Danny and Jason

(cw underage smoking / smoking as a form of bonding) (cw Jason thinking Danny killed himself but its only for a moment) (cw depictions of murderous intent? Danny wants to murder the Joker and he's a little descriptive about it)

Now on ao3 :) (and with a response and a third one)

AND ALSO A REMASTERED VERSION THAT YOU SHOULD TOTALLY GO CHECK OUT BECAUSE I WORKED VERY HARD ON IT.

This is… aha. Massive. Word count check: 9k+

this has probably been done before but hey, everyone loves a good trope and I wanted to share my take on this idea. 👏👏 So, Danny Fenton and Jason Todd being childhood friends. The Fentons lived in Crime Alley for a good long while during Danny's childhood. Nobody wanted to fund their research and Jack and Maddie struggled to keep any form of work for a multitude of reasons. Jack worked in construction due to his big build and Maddie had another job elsewhere.

Danny and Jason were friends during that time, really great friends. I'm not super solid on how they met yet but I do know it involves Danny committing petty crime and Jason deciding to jump in and help when he sees Danny struggling. Danny was distrustful (as all crime alley kids ought to be) but they eventually became thick as thieves, committing petty crime together.

While it's all too easy to make Danny the weaker one of the two with Jason protecting him, I actually really like the idea that they protected each other. Growing up (essentially) on the streets means Danny forcibly had to grow a backbone unless he wanted to get trampled all over. He is just as willing to scuffle with the bigger kids as Jason is, and he and Jason regularly fought each other whenever they needed to let off steam, or just because. They were a duo, having each other's backs in tough situations.

(Sometimes the pair of them would sneak out at night and try and get a glimpse of Batman and Robin while they soared through the air. It was like a game between the two of them to see who could spot the dynamic duo first. When they were a little older, Jason would steal his dad's cigarettes and share them with Danny while they searched for Batman and Robin)

So when Danny has to move away when they're eleven years old, it's pretty safe to say that Jason didn't speak to him for a week afterwards. Nothing Danny did could persuade him to otherwise, even when Danny insisted that it wasn't his fault and that he didn't want to move away either, but he didn't have a choice in the matter.

When the week was over, Jason climbed through Danny's window and sat in his room, dead silent and looking upset. he didn't speak until Danny fished out a stolen pack of cigarettes from his bed and handed one to Jason.

(It was a ritual they had where if one of them was upset about something but wasn't saying anything, the other one could then hand them a cigarette -- whether it be the one they were using or a new one -- and that would be an open invitation for the person to vent. The other one who handed him the cigarette wouldn't speak until the venter handed back the cigarette. Then back and forth it would go until the cigarette was gone.)

Jason ranted about how pissed he was about Danny moving, and they promised to try and stay in touch after he leaves. Neither of them had phones, but Danny was determined to send him a letters.

Danny moves to Amity Park and it's... an adjustment, that's for sure. He's angry, grumpy, upset, and every other negative feeling under the sun. He was going to a new middle school with new people he didn't know, away from all of the people he did know and away from his best friend.

(He does however keep his word about sending letters, and mails one out to Jason at the first opportunity.)

He refuses to get along with anyone, butts heads with the teachers, is combative, rude, and openly smokes in class -- which gets him plenty of detentions and a bad reputation. He speaks in a thick Gotham street accent and wears hand-me-down clothes that are too big and baggy on him. (His parents have yet to replace any of their wardrobes as they settle into their new life, and Danny is hesitant to spend the money to get new clothes.)

He only manages to befriend Sam and Tucker because one of the football kids was bullying Tucker and Danny stepped in. It was some blond jerk named Dash and when Dash threw the first punch, Danny broke his nose. Tucker found him later that day and reluctantly thanked him for his help.

Sam and Danny do not get along for the longest time. Sam questions Danny about his upbringing, his accent, his smoking. She judges him for talking back to the teachers despite doing it herself and for ruining his lungs with cigarettes. Danny tells her to fuck off, and when she tries to judge him and Tucker for not being vegetarian, he calls her a privileged brat.

Sam doesn't even look at him for two weeks after, and Danny refuses to apologize. Tucker is caught between a rock and a hard place as his old friend and new friend are feuding with each other.

They... sort it out eventually.

Danny and Jason send each other letters near religiously. Danny complains about Amity Park, and Jason complains about how Crime Alley isn't the same without him. Danny talks about the school and what he's learned, about Sam and Tucker, and how he's been getting into the astronomy books in the library. He steals Jason a book and sends it to him.

When Jason tells Danny that he was adopted by Bruce Wayne, Danny calls bullshit. There's no fucking way Bruce Wayne would even look at Crime Alley, regardless of his charity efforts towards it. But when he checks Gotham news later that week, he's hit in the face with every single news article announcing Bruce Wayne's newest ward; Jason Todd.

Cue freaking out. Jason talks all about living in Wayne Manor and what it's like there. He says that there's a monster library in a part of the house that Bruce says he has free reign over, and that Jason can have anything to eat as long as he asks Alfred to make it and it isn't a desert, and that he has his own monster-sized room that he got to pick out himself and decorate.

(When they both get phones, the first thing either of them do is add each other's numbers.)

When Sam complains about having to go to a Wayne Gala that her parents are dragging her to one weekend, the first thing Danny asks is if he can go with. It surprises Sam and Tucker; Danny was the last person they would have thought wanted to go with. HE hates the rich even more than Sam does. Danny stands firm in his decision, and refuses to elaborate.

"Besides." He says to Sam, with whom he's begun to get along with via 'the enemy of my enemy is a friend'. "Would you rather go alone or with someone you can tolerate?"

She brings him with and convinces her parents to allow Danny to come along, citing that she'll be on her best behavior if they do. They agree, and buy Danny a suit when he says that he doesn't have one of his own.

(He discovers that he hates wearing suit jackets and ties, but vests he doesn't mind. He doesn't like that he has to comb his hair back, but he does to make Sam's parents happy. They give him a crash course in etiquette that Danny's going to forget the next day, and soon enough off they go in a private jet to Gotham)

(he does not tell Jason he's coming.)

he feels mischievous and nervous as they touch down, his stomach swirling as Sam's parents usher them to a high-profile hotel that Danny's only ever dreamed about going into. He feels largely out of place as they walk through the lobby, and falls back on old habits: square shoulders, set jaw, make yourself look like the biggest person in the room.

They get ready in the hotel room, Sam's parents primp and preen for the night incoming, and Sam is dragged into it by her mother. Danny does only what's required of him, and fiddles with the sleeves of his fresh-ironed button-down that's been tailored to his body. He's itching for a cigarette, and didn't bring any with.

Sam's dad helps him with his tie, a bout of kindness that Danny doesn't think is one. Just obligation to prevent Danny from looking like a mess. Sam pesters him again about wanting to come, and his reasons for it, and Danny keeps mum.

He's stone-faced with anxiety as they get closer to the gala, and before they leave the limousine the Mansons rented Sam links arms with him. A form of solidarity that Danny needs as he squeezes their arms together and smiles weakly at her.

The paparazzi are loud, bright, and demanding, shouting questions over questions at them like overlapping tidal waves. Danny ignores them all and focuses on the front doors instead. Sam's parents whisper at the stairs that they are to greet the Waynes first, and Danny's heart leaps to his throat.

His heart is in his ears as they drift closer, Mister Wayne is preoccupied with another rich couple, smiling that charming billionaire smile that Danny saw on every billboard in Gotham, and then some in Amity Park. Getting so close to him feels unreal.

And there by his side is the one and only Jason Todd, who isn't even trying to hide the bored look on his face as he watches Bruce interact with the other adults. He's gotten taller in the year they've been away, and healthier. His hair looks like its been cut professionally and he doesn't look as street kid skinny.

Danny's arm, hooked with Sam's, tightens up, and he resists the urge to rush forward and hug Jason. He watches Jason's eyes sweep left, away from him, and then right, towards him. The air stills for a moment as their eyes lock.

Danny grins toothily at him, lopsided and playful in nature, and sees the moment Jason processes the sight before him. His arm starts slipping out of Sam's at the same time as an ecstatic smile stretches across Jason's face.

His lopsided grin fills out on the other end. "DANNY!" Jason yells, cutting off whatever Bruce Wayne and startling everyone within earshot. There's barely a moment for Bruce to look down when Jason shoves past him and runs at Danny.

Danny yanks his arm out of Sam's, "JASON!" He yells with just as much enthusiasm, and Jason nearly topples them right over when he collides with Danny. His arms wrap around Danny's shoulders, holding onto him tightly, and they're both laughing, spinning around like tops out of joy.

"You didn't tell me you were coming!" Jason cries, sounding accusing. Danny hugs him just as tightly, and laughs when Jason pulls away momentarily to punch his shoulder.

"I wanted it to be a surprise!" He defends, laughing between words as their spinning comes to a stop. They're both reluctant to pull apart, but they do and clutch the sleeves of their elbows tightly. "How could my best friend be adopted by the Bruce Wayne and have me not come confirm it with my own two eyes?"

"I sent you newspaper clippings!" Jason says, narrowing his eyes while his smile betrays his face. Danny quietly notices that his Gotham street accent is faded slightly.

"Oh that's what it was?" Danny's grin turns again, edging into a smirk. He feigns innocence, "I thought that was fire kindling." He has the newspaper clippings hung on the corkboard in his room, proud beyond words about his best friend.

Jason punches him in the shoulder again, hard enough to leave a bruise. "You jackass." He says, ignoring Danny's laughter even when he's holding back his own.

There's a soft, sharp clearing of someone's throat, breaking their attentions away from each other to the one that made the noise.

Bruce Wayne was a tall man, taller than Danny expected, and he looks exactly like his billboards. If less promiscuous than his perfume ads. Danny expects him to be upset with them both for disrupting his pretty rich gala, but instead he just looks gently amused, with an arched eyebrow. Overall though, he just looks fond.

Danny would be the first to admit that Bruce had taken in Jason as a charity case, something to fill the void after his other kid Dick Grayson finally moved out. But Danny’s a good judge of character — or he likes to assume he is — and those are not the eyes of a man who would take Jason in as a charity case. Those are the eyes of a man who actually, genuinely, cares about one Jason Todd.

The wriggly protective thing settles in his chest.

He doesn’t let go of Jason, but he does twist his smile into something a little more polite. Mister Wayne’s eyebrow arches higher, and he turns his blue-blue eyes onto Jason. “Who’s this, Jason?” He has that fancy Gotham Elite accent -- something that sounds like a mix between old transatlantic and faintly British -- that Danny's only heard in passing when he and Jason snuck up to the nicer parts of Gotham.

Jason stares at Mister Wayne, his grip on Danny tightens as his eyes flick to the other onlookers in the room. “This is Danny, B.” He says once his eyes turn back to Mister Wayne. “We grew up in Crime Alley together, he moved to Illinois last year."

Danny can see the uncomfortable expressions cross every rich person's face, murmurs sweeping across the room as soon their uncomfortable gazes turned judgmental and flinty. He's kept track of the tabloids after Jason's adoption, the ones calling him a charity case and looking down on him for being a street kid.

He inches a little closer to Jason, straightening up instinctively, as if they were back in Crime Alley and facing a pack of kids that didn't like them. He can see Sam's surprised expression from the corner of his eye -- he never told Tucker or Sam about where he grew up, although he's sure they had their suspicions.

He looks back to Mister Wayne and meets his blue-blue eyes, his smile has slowly begun to fade. Mister Wayne doesn't miss a beat however, and his smile stays plastered to his face. If anything, it gets a little softer, a little wider. "It's nice to meet you Danny -- Daniel? I'm so glad that Jason has a friend here." He holds out a hand.

Danny eyes him unsurely, and then takes his hand. "It's jus' Danny, Mister Wayne." He says, some of his old accent slipping through as he shook his hand firmly. He would have done it harder, but this was Jason's new guardian, and from Jason's letters he didn't sound too bad. "It's, uh, nice to meet you too. Jason's told me lots about you."

Mister Wayne's brows jump momentarily, he looks intrigued. He looks between Danny and Jason, and claps his hands together softly. "Well, Jay, how would you like to stay with Danny for a while, hm? I'm sure you too have a lot to catch up on."

Hope simmers in Danny's heart, and he glances to Jason to see that same hope on his face. "Really?" He asks, and Mister Wayne nods with a laugh.

"Of course! How could I keep two friends apart? Go on ahead, chum. I'll come get you when the gala ends."

And just like that, Bruce Wayne leaves Jason with Danny, diving back into a conversation with one of the rich gothamites and taking the attention with it as if he were the sun and everyone else a planet orbiting him.

Danny and Jason share grins, and throw their arms around each other with laughter. Danny is on cloud nine, pressing his nose into Jason's shoulder and breathing him in, fingers digging into the back of his suit hard enough to leave wrinkles in his jacket.

Sam demands answers when they finally, for real this time, pull apart. Why didn't he tell her that he was friends with Jason Todd!? Danny slings his arm around Jason's shoulders and keeps him close, and tells her that it was because he wanted it to be a surprise.

Sam's parents have unreadable expressions on their faces, part greed -- Danny is their in to the elusive Bruce Wayne -- and part disdain -- a Gotham street rat. Danny ignores them, they're unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

He introduces Sam to Jason, and Jason to Sam. And off they go to a corner of the room near the buffet table where they can eat and shit talk everyone else in the room in peace.

At some point in the night Sam is called back to her parents to meet some other fancy rich kids her parents want her to get along with, and Danny and Jason go off to the west end balcony to avoid anyone who may try and approach the new Gotham ward.

Danny hops up onto the balcony railing, kicking his feet as Jason pulls a cigarette pack out of his inner jacket pocket, and grins. "Don't tell Bruce," he says, handing the box to Danny first. "He's been trying to get me to quit."

"Hah!" Danny takes one just as Jason slips out a lighter. "That sounds like Jazz. She's been trying to get me to stop since we moved to Amity." Granted, she's been trying ever since she found out before they moved, but now she was even more insistent. "She hasn't found my stash yet."

At the end of the night when the Mansons are leaving and Danny has to leave with them, he walks back to Mister Wayne with Jason to tell him that he's leaving. Mister Wayne mourns his going, and tells him that he's always able to come visit.

"Any friend of Jason's is always welcome to the manor." He says with a blinding grin, pulling Jason close to his side and squeezing him tight. Jason's nose scrunches up, but he doesn't push away.

It becomes a new routine for them. The Mansons are all too happy to bring him with to the Wayne Galas (of which they start receiving more invites to due to their connection with Danny) and Danny is all too happy to spend the evening with Jason again. No matter what, they always end up on the balcony at some point in the night.

And, eventually, Danny is invited to stay at Wayne Manor either for a weekend or for a break. He jumps at the chance when winter break rolls around and his parents start their debate over Santa Claus again.

Danny and Jason stay up late into the night talking or playing video games during their sleepovers, and in the warmer nights they climb out and onto the roof to stargaze. Danny points out constellations - - things he can find in neither Gotham or Amity -- and rambles on and on about space.

There are plenty of times during the Wayne Galas that the event gets attacked by a rogue. More often than he'd like he loses Jason in the crowd, and has later stopped Robin or Batman in his panic to find him.

The first time it happened, he was in tears with terror. He grabbed onto Batman's cape, stopping the man from going back in as he babbled that his Jason Todd was still inside, that he disappeared during the chaos and he couldn't find him. Batman took his hands and calmly told him that he'd find Jason for him, and that he was sure he was okay, but he needed to calm down.

He found Jason later once everything had calmed down, and he screamed at him for disappearing during a rogue attack, if he ever did it again he'll kill him. Then he cried.

The second time it happened, Danny didn't even realize that Jason was gone until everything was already over. They'd been separated before the attack happened. He stopped Robin and Batman before they could leave, trying to keep his breathing under control as he asked again, if they had seen Jason Todd.

"That- that asshole keeps fucking ditching me when these things happen." His voice has an embarrassing wobble in it. "Please-- please tell me you've seen him, that he's alright."

Robin this time steps up to reassure him, that Jason Todd was out of the building. He got him out. "He's probably looking for you too, uhhh..."

"Danny" Danny says, and eyes him up and down. "You're the new Robin right?"

Robin stilled up, and Danny could understand it a little. He'd seen the thoughts on the new Robin online. He wasn't very popular at first. Robin nods curtly, and Batman was shuffled a little closer to him, almost protectively.

Danny grins at him. "Cool." He says, "Me and Jay used to sneak out onto the rooftops sometimes to try and spot Batman and the first Robin, we made it a game." He holds out a fistbump, "Thanks for doing what you do, man. I might not live in Gotham anymore, but I mean it. You're a living legend."

Robin looks like there's something stuck in his throat, and after a beat he returns the fistbump tentatively. "Th- uh, thanks." He stumbles out awkwardly, and then turns away, "Me and B- uh, better go."

Before Danny could even respond, Robin already had his grapple in hand and was grappling away. "You too, Batman." Danny says before Batman can follow.

When Danny sees Jason after that, and weight lifts off his chest and he hits him in the arm again. And then complains that he should have gotten Batman and Robin's autograph, it would have been epic.

By the fifth time it happens, Danny is cussing up a storm when Robin saves him, cursing out Jason and claiming that he needs to put that boy on a fucking leash. "We're a duo!" He scowls when Robin gets him outside, "I got his back, he has mine! I can't have his back when he's got no back to fucking have."

The eighth time it happens, Danny gets held hostage by one of the henchmen. He's become a recognizable friend of the Waynes, and when the Waynes are nowhere to be found, then the next best thing was up to offer. Danny isn't even mad this time around -- just relieved that Jason was fucking off somewhere where he couldn't get hurt.

Robin, however, seemed furious when he arrived, and broke the hostager's jaw with a single flying kick to the face. Jason found him rapidly quick soon after the situation had settled, and apologized over and over again.

Danny slings an arm around his shoulder and laughs that it was fine, Robin saved the day! His legs were shaking with the worn off adrenaline, something he tried to hide from Jason. "I'm just glad it was me instead of you, Jay." He grins. Jason looks like he swallowed a toad.

Jason stops disappearing as often after that, sticking close to Danny's side until the attack was over.

When Danny is fourteen, Jason dies, and his world unravels.

He calls the manor on a late night in April after Jason had stopped responding to his texts. Danny knew that Jason was just recently in a fight with Bruce, but he knows that Bruce loves Jason. He would know where he is, right?

When he calls, Bruce answers with a hoarse "hello?" as if he'd been crying all day, and Danny's blood turns to ice. The anxiety he'd been feeling beforehand doubles in size, and he feels himself stammering.

"Mister- uh- Mister Wayne? Um, I'm calling because Jason--" he hears Bruce inhale sharply on the other line, and his anxiety skyrockets into fear. "--hasn't been answering any of my texts and- and I'm gettin' real worried."

There's silence on the other end, and Danny feels a rock forming in his throat, gross and heavy like he was on the verge of throwing up. "Mister- Bruce? Mister B?"

There's a shaky breath, and then Bruce's voice crackles through the phone. "Um-- Jason, he, he's--" there's a sound like rustling, "he's been killed."

Danny's vision whites out with skyrocketing terror, his mind skidding to a stop. His body rapidly grows hot, and then chills, like a blacksmith striking a heated weapon. "What?"

When the phone call ends, Danny screams himself hoarse. Jazz and his parents come running into his room, his parents equipped with ghost weapons. Instead, they find Danny curled up in his bed, sobbing hoarsely.

Danny almost -- almost -- refuses to attend the funeral, nearly paralyzed with grief. Jazz coaxes him to go, to find closure if anything else, and he drags himself out of bed to go.

He feels numb the entire time. It's closed casket, so he can't even see him for one last time before Jason is buried in the ground. He's silent, and if he think he looks bad, then Bruce looks even worse, like he hadn't slept since Jason died and worse.

Danny grabs his sleeve before he leaves, and when Bruce turns to him with a dull look in his once vibrant eyes, he clings to him tightly. And cries. Bruce clings back just as tight, Danny feels tears drip into his hair.

"Who did it." Danny whispers, voice too hurt to speak any louder, when he pulls back. His fingers curl around Bruce's jacket tightly, desperately. His eyes hurt with tears. "You said he was murdered, B. Please, who did it."

Bruce looks down at him, and for the first time it really does feel like he's looking down at him. His face is blank, and his eyes close in grief. There is no answer, a silent no.

Danny's face twists up all ugly like, and he shakes Bruce's jacket. "Bruce, please. Tell me who did it."

Bruce refuses, his face full of grief.

Danny never returns to Gotham.

Prior to Jason's death and post their reunion, Danny had slowly begun to improve in school. He started caring more, he was putting in more effort, he was doing his homework and was actually enjoying class. There was the bullying from Dash and the A-Listers, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, he was ignoring them for the most part.

Come Monday after the funeral, and Danny breaks Dash's nose when he starts up with his shit. He withdrew into himself, and it was like he was back to square one again, except this time it was much worse.

Everyone knew Danny was close friends with Jason Todd. So when news of his death finally reached the ears of Amity Park, the students of Casper High School kept their distance.

That following Friday, Danny dies in the portal and comes back. A month later he becomes Phantom, the ghost-fighting ghost. the ghost Phantom wears his hazmat suit partially undone, showing a tanktop he didn't wear in death under the initial suit while the sleeves are tied around his waist. Vicious, glowing lichtenburg scars travel up his arm and neck and torso, covering half of his face while a pair of scientist-like goggles covers his eyes. He's bitter and angry, showing off his death.

Look at me, Phantom's form says, I am a dead child. Look at me look at me look at me. Mourn me. I am a dead child. LOOK AT ME. MOURN ME.

A few weeks later he enters the ghost zone and realizes that he could find Jason. And he spends a weekend scouring the ghost zone for him. He finds Gotham in the zone, and rather than finding Jason, he finds Robin.

Danny didn't know he'd died. And he flies towards him, asks him if he's seen Jason, reveals that it's him, Danny Fenton. Robin stares at him, mouth agape, and peels off his mask to reveal Jason Todd.

They both cry, and when Danny tells him how he died, Jason looks pale in the face. "You didn't- you didn't kill yourself because of me, did you?"

Danny fervently denies it. No, no. He didn't, he didn't. It was an accident. Totally unrelated. But enough about that, what the hell happened? Bruce wouldn't tell him anything at the funeral.

Jason clams up, his ghostly face losing its color, and Danny curses himself. He tells Jason that he doesn't have to tell him, he doesn't have to say anything. They sit in silence.

"It was the Joker." Jason says.

That's all Danny needs to know. He nods quietly. 'I'll kill him.' He thinks to himself, a stubborn set in his jaw. "Okay."

It had always been a plan; a thought wriggling in the back of Danny's mind ever since Bruce told him that Jason had been killed.

Not died. Killed.

Danny wanted the fucker dead the moment he realized it. He just needed to know who did it. He thinks Bruce knew it too, could probably see it in his eyes the moment Danny asked him who did it. He isn't sure if he should hate Bruce more for keeping it from him now.

They spend hours together, just soaking in each other's presence. Danny tries to take him through the ghost portal, to bring him back to the land of the living. But much like Kitty, Jason's form is tied to the zone. Danny promises to visit every day.

And he does. Or he tries to. The grief doesn't go away, but with the comfort of knowing that Jason was on the other side, Danny feels a little better. He tells Jason about being Phantom, and Jason helps train him. It feels like they're kids again and are fighting just because they want to. Its a bout of familiarity in a place that feels unfamiliar. All they need are cigarettes.

And then six months later he loses him again. Danny scours the ghost zone for him for the second time, and this time he doesn't find him.

His haunt is still in the zone though. He didn't move on. He's still here, somewhere.

Danny is convinced that Jason was in the Elsewhereness, and looks for him in between ghost fights and his social life. He visits Jason's haunt every day, knowing that Jason should be able to feel when another ghost enters his home. He does not show up.

(He never thinks that Jason came back to life, and Jason doesn't remember his time in the ghost zone)

When Danny is nineteen, Vlad Masters blackmails him into going to another Wayne Gala. Begrudgingly, Danny goes. He's taller than he used to be, having inherited his dad's monstrous height and his mom's leanness. He has piercings, some of them he got after a lost bet from Sam and Tucker, and he's given himself an undercut.

He still prefers vests over suit jackets, and he still smokes. A little less than before, he sneaks a pack into his pocket before he leaves, along with a lighter. Vlad gives him a dirty look the whole time - he knows.

"Don't give me that look." "That stuff kills, you know" "I'm already dead."

It's like deja vu when he arrives; an awful bout of deja vu, that is. The paparazzi is still as bright and loud and annoying as it always was, and they don't recognize him at all. Something he thinks of as a soft mercy up until one of the reporters asks Vlad who he is.

Vlad smiles and tugs Danny into the camera frame, "Why, this is my godson!" He crows, and shoots Danny a look that is downright smug I'm sure many of you may know him as Daniel Fenton?"

If looks could kill, Vlad would be ash. Danny isn't quite sure why he still agreed to this -- blackmail or no. He felt itchy being in Gotham; jumpy. He's never forgotten his vow to kill the Joker, in fact it was something he still desperately wants.

But the threat of Rath, the name he chose for his evil future self, haunts him just as much as his murderous intent. If he kills the Joker, would he stop?

Danny's almost afraid of what he'll do if he ever lays eyes on the Joker in person. He doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from wrapping his hands around that stupid clown's neck and watching the light leave his eyes.

He pushes the thoughts to the side, and smiles lopsidedly as cameras and microphones flood his face, reporters yelling over themselves as they clamor to get a shot of the old Wayne family friend.

Danny turns and walks inside without answering a single question, flexing his fingers in and out of fists. Vlad gracefully hurries after him, and Danny can hear his glare burning into his back.

"You told me to come," Danny hisses to him once he's beside him, meeting Vlad's gaze piercingly, "not that I should play nice."

"Don't embarrass me, Daniel." Vlad hisses back, trying to look the upmost calm as eyes turn onto them. "I'll make you regret it."

"You embarrass yourself, fruitloop." Danny shoots back, walking away before Vlad could get a retort in. He sees Bruce Wayne on the other side of the room.

His heart seizes with nostalgia. He hasn't seen Bruce since Jason's funeral, hasn't spoken to him either. He doesn't know how to feel about him, but he'd been keeping tabs on Bruce both as himself and as Batman.

Danny's feet carry him forwards before he can think about it, silently weaving between the throng of rich people vying for his attention. It's only when he gets closer does he see the little shadow clinging to his side: Damian Wayne.

The newest little bird, Danny realizes, and stifles a smile at the surly expression on Damian's face as two older women coo over him. He reminded him of Sam, who had long since stopped coming to these things the moment she was able to.

The feeling of eyes on him turns Danny's attention away from Damian, and instead finds them back on Bruce's, who stares at him with a little furrow between his brows. As if he recognized him, but he wasn't sure from there.

Danny grins crookedly the moment he's within earshot. "Mister B!" He exclaims, slipping into what remained of his Gotham street accent. Recognition flashed in Bruce's eyes, and the man smiled widely. "Long time no see, old man."

"Danny," Bruce says, his name breathing out like relief. He slips between the crowd surrounding him -- who are now watching Danny -- and pulls Danny into a close hug. "It's good to see you again."

Danny hesitates for a moment -- he wasn't expecting Bruce to hug him -- and returns the gesture. "It's good to see you too, Bruce." He admits. Bruce was still using the same cologne that he did when Danny was a kid. He blinks heavily.

He pulls away quickly, clapping Bruce lightly on the shoulder as Damian quickly latches onto his father's side again. Damian glares daggers at him, fingers digging into Bruce's pantlegs like a possessive little kid.

He made Danny's ghost sense tingle in the back of his throat, creeping up slowly like a spider before stopping suddenly before it reached his mouth. It hummed, and then disappeared.

Danny smothered a frown. Since when did Batman work with ectoplasm? “This must be Damian." He says to Bruce, and holds out a hand to Damian -- he doesn't crouch, he had a feeling that Damian would be less than appreciative if he did that. "You've really expanded the nest since the last time I saw you."

Damian's eyes narrow at him. Bruce laughs lightly, "Ah yes, Tim is around here somewhere. I'm sure you'll see him soon."

"Father," Damian says, his voice layered with an accent. He glares up at Danny with piercing green eyes. "How do you know this man?" He sounds distrustful, Danny respects that and drops his hand.

"This is Danny Fenton." Bruce says, and Danny lets him introduce him. "He was Jason's friend."

An expression similar to bewilderment flashes briefly over Damian's face, and he eyes Danny in disbelief. "Todd had friends?"

Oh. So that's how he wanted to be. Bruce had a little elitist on his hands. Danny's smile drops like a deadweight, and any lingering endearment he had hardens like ice in his chest, fury slowly taking its place like a flickering candlelight. "It's not polite to speak ill of the dead, Mister Wayne." He says coldly, his voice made of chips of ice.

Damian blinks, the disbelief disappearing from his face. The closest thing to a recoil Danny thinks he's going to get. He doesn't care. No one speaks about his best friend that way.

"I grew up with Jason, actually." He continues, breathing in slow and deep, trying to keep the ghostly possessive-protective-rage under control. "I was his best friend."

He turns, almost robotically, towards Bruce, and tries not to look so angry. "I'm going to go find Tim, Mister B." He says, and tries to offer up a weak smile for the man. It comes out as a grimace instead.

"And..." he pauses, flicks his eyes towards Damian, and then looks at Bruce. "I'll... try and keep in contact, B. Tell Dick I said hi, alright? I'll see you in a little bit."

Bruce nods, looking vaguely disappointed and sighing slow through his nose. Danny walks away as Bruce turns to address his youngest, and doesn't bother listening in on what he has to say.

He does, eventually, find Tim Drake. He spots him in a crowd instantly - it's hard not to, and he makes his way over to him. He's not sure Tim Drake would recognize him, Bruce didn't at first and Danny had been around him constantly.

Except Tim Drake does recognize him, much to Danny's surprise. They lock eyes and Tim immediately makes his way over to him. "Danny Fenton!" He says and stops in front of him, "What a surprise, we weren't expecting you tonight."

"Tim Drake," Danny replies, smiling a little as his earlier hurt begins to fade away. "I'm surprised you know me."

"There are pictures of you in the manor with Jason." Tim explains, stuffing his hands into his pockets with an easy-going smile. "It's hard not to know you."

"It’s hard not to know you too,” Danny retorts, a sly smile slowly spreading across his face. “Although you’re a lot taller than you used to be, when you were lurking around Bruce and Jason and I.”

Ohhh Danny recognizes him alright. One part due to all the news articles and tabloids on him after he was adopted by Bruce, and the other part because he remembers the little shadow lurking near plants pots and table legs that used to follow him and Jason around at galas just like these.

Knowing that Jason was Robin, he wonders if Jason knew he was there too.

The effect is immediate: Tim’s eyes grow comically large, and a red tint glows at the tip of his ears as he shrinks back like a turtle trying to hide into its shell. “You— you noticed that!?” He hisses.

“I did!” Danny grins, large and wide, stifling a laugh as the red tint spreads over Tim’s cheeks and nose. He looks mortified. Danny coos. “Aww, I thought it was adorable that Jason had a little shadow. I’m sure he would have loved you if you had just come over and said hi. He had a big soft spot for kids.”

Tim snorts and it— it almost sounds derisive? “Sure he would.” He looks sad, and the mirth in Danny’s chest shrivels up like a flower without light. The smile fades from his face, and all that’s left is a strange, staunch reminder that Danny and Bruce weren’t the only ones that probably mourned.

He touches Tim’s shoulder lightly, “Hey, I’m sorry.” He says, trying to look as apologetic as he feels. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m sorry, I miss him too.” Like a fucking limb he missed him.

There’s something that flickers in Tim’s eyes, passing through too fast for Danny to realize what it is. He assumes its gratefulness, because Tim relaxes a little and offers him a weak little smile. “I wish I had talked to him.”

Danny sees an out and takes it, he forces out a short laugh, grinning widely. “I can tell you all about him if you’d like,” he offers, “I told Mister B I’d keep in touch anyways. I’ve missed him and Alfred quite a lot in the last few years.”

“Not Dick?”

“That dipstick wasn’t around often enough for me to form any sort of emotional attachment to him.” Danny says in a half-complaining tone, placing his hands on his hips. “Although I did like his puns.”

Tim snickers, “I’ll tell him you said that then. Nobody likes his puns.”

“Go on ahead,” Danny grins, laughter swirling in his chest and making his core thrum with warmth. Damn, he’s missed this family. “I stand by my decision. Puns are funny.”

“Let’s get a photo then.” Tim says with a hand already fishing in his pocket for his phone. “He’ll be devastated to know that you were here and he didn’t get to see you.”

“Sure.” And Danny sidles on next to Tim, throwing an arm around his shoulders — and making a noise of surprise when his arm was able to fit comfortably — as if he was just resting it on a counter.

He totally forgot how tall he was compared to Tim. Forgot that he’d been looking down the entire time they’d been talking. “Why’d I get my dad’s height.” He complains, and bends his knees as Tim raises the phone with the front-facing camera on.

Tim snickers under his breath, and takes the picture while they’re both smiling wide. Danny immediately stands up, and peers over Tim’s shoulders to look at the picture.

It’s a good one, with the fringe of Danny’s curls falling slightly over his left eye and making the dimple on his right cheek more prominent. He could see the barely-there smattering of freckles he had across his nose, the ones that became more prominent when the sun was out. His smile was lopsided, Danny’s favorite kind of smile.

He whistles lowly, “That’s a good one,” he says aloud, and smiles impishly at Tim when he looks at him. “You should send that one, I look hot in it.”

Tim snorts, his ears reddening as he looks down at his phone. “Yeah sure, no problem.” He says quickly, and Danny looks away when he pulls up the messenger app. He’s never felt comfortable looking over people’s shoulders when they were on their phone.

“I’m gonna go take a smoke break.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and curls his fingers around the box and lighter inside. “I’ll—“

“Be on the west-end balcony.” Tim finishes, the red in his ears darkening as he glances up from his phone to smile embarrassedly. “I know.”

Danny snorts, “Okay.” His voice is thick with amusement. “Let me know how Dipstick reacts, alright?” He backs up slowly, awaiting Tim’s response. Tim merely waves a hand at him, a weak gesture of “yeah yeah” that makes Danny grin before he flips around and marches towards his favorite smoking balcony.

———————

(Tim pulls up the family group chat and loads the selfie into the text bar. His face feels warm with embarrassment even as his thumbs fly across the screen.

Tim: look who i found at the latest charity gala :) [image]

Hee awaits eagerly a response, and finds he doesn’t have to wait long. Dick’s thought bubble appears on screen, then Cass’s — of which it only exists for a moment before disappearing.

Dick: holy shit, is that who i think it is?

Tim responds quickly, and his message sends.

Tim: yep. He wanted me to tell you that he thinks your jokes are funny.

Dick: they are funny

Tim rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment, really thinks. He weighs his pros and cons. And then his fingers fly across the screen again.

Tim: hey Jason are you not gonna say anything?

There’s no response for all of thirty seconds — of which it stretches on to an uncomfortably long minute — and then Jason’s thought bubble appears.

Jason: what do i have to say to a bunch of idiots blowing up my phone in the middle of patrol?

Tim: harsh. do you recognize the guy in the photo?

Jason’s response is instant. Too fast for him to have actually looked at the photo itself. He’s just trying to spite Tim then. Tim doesn’t care, he has the upper hand here

Jason: no and I don’t care, i have patrol

Tim knows he didn’t look at the photo, and yet he can’t help stifle a shit-eating smile and feign innocence

Tim: really? You and Danny used to be so close, color me surprised

His teeth dig into his lower lip, he doesn’t need to in order to hide a smile. But it gives him something to do. Jason is worryingly silent for a long, long time, and Tim can almost imagine him staring long and hard at the selfie. Tim knows he will be later.

Finally, Jason’s text bubble shows up. It exists for a long time, before finally Tim’s phone buzzes with his message alert.

Jason: that’s danny?

Tim feels all too gleeful. Smugness swirling in his chest like kicked up sand as he types his response: yep! Apparently he showed up today, although I’m not sure with who since I don’t see Miss Manson around here.

Damian: Father says to get off your phone, Drake. We are at a Gala and your behavior is most unbecoming

Tim: can it demon spawn, I was just telling Jason that his friend Danny is here

Damian: He can’t be too important if he doesn’t even know Todd is alive

Tim: how would you know that?

Damian: When Father introduced him as Todd’s friend, I expressed my surprise that Todd even had friends, considering how unpleasant he can be. Fenton became quite cross with me after that and quickly excused himself thereafter

Dick: you said what!? Damian that’s not okay

Damian: Father made that quite clear after Fenton left in a huff. My mistake for thinking that Todd had told his ‘supposed best friend’ that he was alive.

Dick: he didn’t even tell us we were alive at first

Damian: He did eventually, didn’t he? Clearly Todd doesn’t seem to care too much about Fenton if he hasn’t even informed him of his being alive at this point.

Jason’s thought bubble quickly pops up, and then dissipates, then pops up again. Tim quickly pockets his phone before he can see Jason’s response. He doesn’t feel smug anymore, just uncomfortable.)

———————

Stepping out onto the west-end balcony feels like a blast from the past. A painful one at that. Danny’s fingers dig into his cigarette pack, and he pulls it out with a sense of bittersweet familiarity.

It feels like a lifetime ago that he once stood here with Jason. The package clunks dully as his fingers scrape against the side, and he fishes a cigarette out of the box before stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Quite the night isn’t it.” He says to nothing, to ghosts of the past, to himself. He turns and sits on the railing, sticking his legs out like a tripping hazard while Gotham’s hot city wind blows through the air.

He looks up and only sees the ugly pollution yellow sky looking down at him. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to him. He loves the stars and yet when faced with a smog that covers it, he feels more at home.

Danny’s fingers find the lighter, and with a few clicks a small open flame appears in existence. There’s a poem here, he can feel it. But he feels too tired to find it.

The cigarette lights, and the lighter dies in response. Returning back to his coffin-like pocket until he needs to use it again. He pulls a leg up, resting his chin on his knee with a heavy, tired sigh.

He soaks in the sounds around him. The ugly city warmth nips at his jaw. The music inside is muffled by the force of two glass doors and walls on all four sides, and Danny can hear late night traffic coming by on the road nearby. It’s a special kind of ambience you can only find on the west end balcony.

Half a decade ago, Danny had played a part with that ambience with Jason. Now it was just him, and Jason was nowhere to be found. It left a hopeless kind of feeling in his chest. An all-suffocating kind of fear that filled him head to toe with an intensity only ghosts could have.

His body winds up like a spring, and Danny holds his breath. When he exhales two minutes later, the spring stutters and jolts, and his body relaxes with a tremble.

He misses Jason. He misses Jason.

Ghosts are emotional creatures. They feel it from their crown to their soles. And emotional wounds never really heal. They scab over and fester, waiting to be picked at again and again so it can bleed as fresh as it did when it first opened.

Danny’s grief is never going to go away, he thinks. It’s clung to him like a parasite; shaped him and molded him. The wound was too close to him when he died, and now it will stay with him forever.

He opens his eyes when his ghost sense tingles, a heavy feeling in his throat that is neither nicotine nor grief. It’s just like Damian’s, but stronger. Potent. Older. It reaches the top of Danny’s throat and sits at the base of his tongue, like a hand about to suffocate him.

He looks up, cigarette hanging off his lips, and the Red Hood drops down beside him. He stands in the same spot Jason once did, and that alone makes the ghostly core in Danny seize possessively.

Don’t you dare stand where he stood, it hisses, coiling around his lungs like smog. Danny grits his teeth and feels his ghost sense evaporate. He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, and nicotine smoke pours out like a cheap version of his ghost sense.

“Red Hood.” He says plainly, his free hand coiling and uncoiling like cat’s claws against the railing. “A surprise to see you here.”

Danny knows through process of elimination who most of the Gotham vigilantes are: Dick is Nightwing, Bruce is Batman, Tim is Red Robin, Damian is Robin, and Cass is Orphan. There are a few who he doesn’t know, however. Like Batgirl and Red Hood.

It’s fine, he doesn’t need to know. Danny of all people understands the importance of a secret identity.

Red Hood doesn’t say anything, just stares at him as if he’s a deer in headlights. His body all tensed up like he isn’t sure what to do now that he’s here in front of Danny. Like he wasn’t expecting Danny to be here at all.

Danny’s brows furrow. “Sorry, am I in your spot?” He asks, and begins to push off the railing. “I didn’t think vigilantes used the Wayne Hall west-end balcony, I can leave if you want.”

He’s already begun to move towards the door.

The Red Hood lurches in his spot, “No!” He yells, and Danny stops in place with raising eyebrows. Red Hood’s fingers cringe, and he straightens up.

He’s shorter than Danny, he notes. Which isn’t much of revelation. Everyone is shorter than Danny.

“No,” Red Hood repeats, sounding sturdier than before, “No. You’re fine. I’m just stopping here for a quick rest before resuming patrol.”

…Danny doesn’t question it. It’s none of his business about other vigilantes and their practices. He shrugs and breathes out more smoke, “Alright.” He says, and walks back over to the railing to sit on it. “I’m Danny, by the way.”

The Red Hood nods, and a silence falls over them. Danny doesn’t care enough to make it feel uncomfortable, but the Red Hood seems unsettled by something. Lost in thought. He leans his back against the railing similar to Danny, and then switches a few seconds later to a new pose.

He does it again, and again, and again. Until finally he flips over and leans his stomach against the railing, arms resting against it. It is starkly like what Jason used to do, and Danny stares at him long and hard.

He frowns. And says nothing.

When Danny’s cigarette is nothing more than a butt of nicotine, he crushes it in his hand and watches the ash flutter down to the ground. The heat stings his hand, but its nothing his ghostly healing can’t fix.

The Red Hood is already holding out another one when Danny’s hand drifts to his pocket for the box.

Danny stares at him, sudden wariness opening up like floodgates that sit at the bottom of his stomach.

His frown deepens, his eyes flicker up and down at Red Hood. His hands hover over his pocket. “I have my own.” He says, and watches subtly as the Red Hood hides a wilt. As if he’d been expecting Danny to take it.

“Alright.” The Red Hood says, trying to sound unbothered. He retracts the cigarette away from Danny, quiet all the way. He’s looking away.

Danny plucks the cigarette out of his hand, startling the Hood enough that Red snaps back to look at him. Danny yanks his lighter from his pocket. “I won’t say no to a free cigarette.” He says, slightly muffled with the stick between his teeth. It lights.

Silence falls over them again, and when one minute stretches into five, whatever hope that had been digging into the shoulders of Red Hood finally pulls away and leaves him slumping subtly.

‘A ciggie for your thoughts?’ Nine year old Jason Todd whispers one night with an impish grin, holding up a cigarette pinched between his two fingers. ‘I stole it from my old man. He won’t even notice its gone.’

Danny is halfway through it when he speaks. “The Joker killed my best friend.” He says, and watches from the corner of his eye as the Red Hood flinches. Is he startled by Danny speaking, or startled by the bluntness of him starting?

“He beat him to death.” Danny continues, staring stone-faced away from Red Hood. His grief claws up his lungs and burrows into his heart again. His fingers dig into the railing. “He beat my best friend to death.”

The Red Hood is silent, his body as still as the grave. Silence stretches out between them both, and like he’d been thinking, the Hood finally speaks: “How do you know?”

He’s not holding the cigarette, he broke his and Jason’s rule. Danny bounces the stick between his fingers. “His ghost told me.” He says, taking a trembling breath. “His ghost told me so, before he disappeared.”

The Red Hood says nothing, and Danny gathers his thoughts. The ones that had been buried deep next to his core, shoved down ever since Danny learned of Rath and a terrible future where a world is destroyed by one ghost’s hands.

Danny has never said it out loud before. His face scrunches up briefly, and then smooths out when his eyes squeeze shut. “I’m going to kill him, Red Hood.” He murmurs when he opens his eyes, turning his face toward the vigilante. The sound is sucked out of the air.

The Red Hood stares at him, but he doesn’t say a word. Danny pushes on, teeth grinding into teeth as he flips his silvery scarred hand back and forth. Palm up, palm down. “It’s why I haven’t been back to Gotham in a while.” He admits, voice still quiet. “If I see the Joker I will kill him, and I won’t feel bad for it.”

“Not today though,” he says, and closes his hand, “today I’m here on a favor to Vlad Masters. Then after this I’ll go visit my friend. I need to apologize for not seeing his grave in a while. I’ll have to stop by a florist to see if they have any zinnias. Jay likes those.”

He takes out the cigarette in his mouth and breathes out one last cloud of smoke. And then he crushes the cigarette stick under his foot and walks back inside.

#….AND THATS ALL I HAVE FOR THIS AU #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dp crossover #dpdc #dp dc crossover #childhood friends au #whats the jasonxdanny ship name again??#Undead ship?#no no wait its dead on main #dead on main #cw cigarettes #cw smoking #smoking tw #oh fuck this got long (story of my life) but onfg i didnt wanna make #more than one part #anyways Danny and Jason are buddies uwu #thank god that tumblr has a seemingly endless word count #one sided timxdanny #tim’s crush on danny is basically the same thing #as a little sibling developing a crush on their older brother’s friend #he’ll get over it in a few months #its a small infatuation not to worry #danny is completely oblivious to it #thanks dc writers for making Tim imortally sixteen #it makes everyone else’s ages a little easier to remember #you can see me running out of steam at the last stretch of this monster thing

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anxiousnerdwritings · 5 months

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I can totally imagine that, after getting absolutely no where, Jokerized!twin darling just has an Azula-level breakdown. Especially if the Batfam or God forbid Damian somehow manages to subdue the unpredictable mess. There's no way that Twin!Reader doesn't resent Damian to a degree, especially after everything he put them through... so seeing his twin brother not only be accepted but also find a family that was willing to have him? While Twin!Darling was just used and abused in some shape or form? Absolutely breaking down!

Twin!Reader wholeheartedly holds an immense amount of resentment towards both Damian and Talia. I really like the idea that Twin!Reader was more akin to being that of a normal child born outside of a family full of assassins than to acting like one who was. Like, Twin!Reader was on par with Damian when it came to the proficiency of their training but the mentality just wasn’t there for them. They couldn’t just aimlessly kill, they couldn’t just walk away with someone’s blood on them and not feel something. Not only that, they just weren’t emotionless to any degree like how their mother and brother so easily were. They laughed, they cried, they felt fear, they felt hurt. Like, I’ve had this scenario in my head for a bit of there being a thunderstorm or a blizzard and Twin!Reader seeking out Damian because they’re scared, they sneak into his room and they just want comfort. They just want to be together with their twin brother in their moment of need. And Damian begrudgingly allows it cause they won’t go away no matter what he says but he still makes comments about how weak they are for something as ridiculous as a storm to have them acting like this and that the Reader better be out before mother finds out. I especially like this kind of scenario being what Twin!Reader holds onto when they need something no the better side to look back on. It didn’t happen often, nor did it come without berating, but there were a few moments that Twin!Reader had with Damian that they’ve held onto, that they’ve cherished.

I also really like the idea of Talia having tried to kill Twin!Reader behind Ra’s back, leaving them for dead only for them to survive and that’s where we go from there. I think it really adds to the whole familial betrayal thing and gives more to the Reader eventually going off the rails, especially as they’re in search of somewhere to belong, for someone who willingly and genuinely wants them for them. It makes it even more of a surprise and gut punch respectively for Damian, Talia, and Ra’s when the Reader pops back up. Especially, after being Jokerized.

All their life, Twin!Reader as been used and abused in some way, shape, or form. And even after being Jokerized that’s all they’re met with. Even if it isn’t to the same extent it was with Talia and Damian, these new people the Reader is trying to find belonging in all have ulterior motives. They want to use the Reader against Batman (or one of the other main people the Reader’s been associated with), they want something to have and hold over Batman’s (or whoever else’s) head. That’s all it is, at least in the beginning. Eventually these people do come to have some amount of care for the Reader but by then it’s too late and the Reader is in the wind and on to the next one.

I do really love the idea of Damian and Twin!Reader sharing their love for animals. I especially love the thought of the Reader’s first pet/companion being a hyena Joker and Harley (probably just Harley) gifted them after their initiation into the Clown Family. That hyena would mean the absolute world to the Reader, as far as the Reader was concerned it was their first friend and the first thing that ever stayed around for them. Wherever the Reader went, so did it. I love the thought of the hyena being protective of the Reader, sticking close to them for both security and comfort. The hyena very quickly becomes the only thing that Twin!Reader truly cares about anymore. Not to mention, there’s no doubt that after everything Twin!Reader’s been through before and after being Jokerized they have constant nightmares, even some night terrors, and the only one there for them is their loyal hyena. It’s there to curl around them protectively, to give them a warmth they’re not used to and a sense of being looked over that they’ve never felt before. I can even see the hyena bringing the Reader snacks to remind them to eat and take care of themself.

I can really see the Jokerized!Twin!Reader being thrown into an all out breakdown if their hyena died, especially if it died protecting them (whether from the batfamily or some rogue rando). That was their only friend, the only thing that truly ever cared about them and now they had nothing anymore. They had no one. They were lost all over again. If any of the batfamily members had anything to do with the Reader’s precious hyena’s death there would never be any forgiveness. If someone else were the reason for the hyena’s death than the Reader wouldn’t think twice about killing them and getting revenge for their beloved companion. Either way, no matter who caused the Reader’s hyena’s death I can see the batfamily all trying to subdue them from enacting any revenge on whoever. No matter how feral and berserk the Reader is in the moment, no matter how hard they fight, how hard they hit, I see Bruce, Jason and Damian especially not letting go of them. They hold the Reader the entire time, unrelenting in their grasp no matter how hurt they get in the process. If the Reader is as unrelenting as they are then they’ll have to knock them out. From there the family will take Jokerized!Twin!Reader home, where they’ll be safer, where the family can watch over and be there for them.

After their breakdown, there is no way in hell, Damian and Bruce especially will be able to go on with the Reader not being with them. Seeing how absolutely destroyed they’ve become, how much of a broken husk they’ve been turned into after everything they’ve been through, Damian and Bruce can’t allow anything more to happen to their sibling/child. No matter what it takes, how long it takes, Damian and Bruce aren’t giving up on Jokerized!Twin!Reader. They will save them, they will put them back together again. They will be the family that the Reader should have had all along.

God forbid if Ra’s was there to see his precious grandchild breakdown like that in front of him. Damian and Bruce be damned, he’s taking them home with him and Talia will be thoroughly dealt with for her part in all of this, in destroying his pride and joy.

#anxious answers #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batfamily #yandere ra’s al ghul #yandere dc concept #yandere concept

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theoryofthemultiverse · 1 month

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How likely the Fatui harbingers are to cuddle you

(as their fellow harbinger)

When you are sick 🛌

An: I am sick so we have to make the best of it :( also included wanderer before his glow up and la signora because I like my harbingers all together, but since I feel like I cannot say anything about Pulcinella, Columbina and Sandrone I left them out, I still hope you’ll like it!

Pierro:

1/10

I feel like he would look at you and tell you to go and rest, but that’s about it. Maybe you get a pat on your head or shoulder in sympathy.

Il Dottore:

3.5-4?/10

When you’re like, nearly dead? and come to him into his lab in the hopes he can give you medicine. He thinks the sight is pathetic :(

Would help you though and tell you to sit down while gets you some poisonous looking medicine (it probably unfairly works tho). But you’re still burning up so you crave a bit more of a hug. It annoys him (but if you persist in staying annoying to him) he might give you a segment of him that you can use as a plushie for your own comfort if not himself.

Arlecchino:

7/10

I mean hello? Father?

This woman would take her time for you. If you tell her you really need someone to cuddle you, she will agree, why not after all?

Only one condition, she might want to do some work in the meantime which could be anything from reading, to writing and commanding fatui agents, as well as her children around.

But if you commit to laying on the couch next to her not bothering her too much, mommy/father is gonna take care of you while laying by the fireplace. :>

Scaramouche:

5/10

Would also be annoyed.

„Why don’t you get lost in your room and rest there? You’re a drag when you’re sick.“ But you don’t want to go to your room you want affection.

So after long minutes of persuading, he might give in, depending on if he likes you or not.

If he gives in and lets you cuddle him, he’s going to make comments about being annoyed, (all while that man‘s got the joker, puppets surely won’t catch a cold) Yet you don’t care and let him talk because you know that behind all the complaints, he likes it a bit.

La signora:

5/10

This one is tricky, I feel like she would be a little like Scaramouche, also saying she doesn’t want to, but should she give in she might find it slightly pleasant and let’s it play a bit into her Ego, other than Scara who would feel it in affection mostly.

Pantalone:

7/10

If you ask him and he is not out for business, I wouldn’t see what keeps him from it. Especially if you’d be at home with him in that luxurious house. He’d at least stay with you until you’re asleep before heading back to his desk to deal with some contracts. Maybe he’ll send someone to fetch him a soup or anything he would know makes you feel better so when you wake up and want to cuddle again, he could also give you something he knows you like to make you feel better.

Tartaglia:

10/10

This man…, you want cuddles, you’re sick? He’s got your back. Just call him up and he’ll try to finish business as fast as possible to come over and help you get better again. Honestly a sweetheart :(

Il Capitano:

2/10

I believe he wouldn’t cuddle you because he is more into battling something somewhere (maybe Natlan). But on the other hand he wouldn’t be too opposed to making you feel a bit better and comforting you so he would ask you if you wanna come along to Natlan and watch him there!

I mean might not be what you asked for but at least it’s gonna be warmer than Snezhnaya. :)

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jasntodds · 1 month

Text

Burial Plot [J.T.]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Summary: Jason thinks back on memories of your relationship

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, mentions of injuries, self-deprecating thoughts (jason), mentions of previous homelessness, mention of addiction (not jason or the reader), mentions of blood, character death, open ending

Words: 8,451

A/n: Dayseeker dropped Replica and Burial Plot really did something for me (again). If you wanna be tagged in my fics, you can click the link below, send me an ask/comment, or follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

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The cold Gotham breeze nips at Jason’s cheeks as his hands grip the ledge of the roof so hard the solid concrete almost wants to collapse at his feet. The streets are busy below him, the streetlights and buildings illuminating the otherwise dark and gloomy city. Something here manifests and metastasizes into something cruel and unusual, a type of suffering that almost brings the city pure and unfiltered joy. It’s something about this city that feels unbearably cruel sometimes.

Gotham always felt like it was filled of poison with no antidote so maybe that’s why Jason always managed to find himself back in the dreary city.

It’s how he always saw himself, drenched in poison, ruining everything around him even when he desperately tries not to. It’s as if he was cursed from the very beginning and the more he tries the more he messes up. Even coming back from the dead didn’t seem right since even Bruce wanted nothing to do with him. It took him so long to even get into the family’s good graces again because even when he would try his hardest, it always blew up in his face. So, to Jason, there had to be something wrong with him.

But, then, there was you.

Jason remembers the first time you had a proper conversation. You'd met a handful of times prior but never really talked past the usual pleasantries. Dick had asked for your help on a mission even when Jason insisted they had enough help with the other bats and a few of their tag-a-longs. But, Dick insisted.

----

“Red Hood.” You’d snickered through your mask as you watched Jason on his stomach watching the building in front of you through binoculars.

“Something funny?” Jason quipped back with a gentle force of annoyance.

He could do this himself. He did not need to be teamed up with anyone and he had no clue why of all people, he was teamed up with you. You didn't even know each other. At least Jason knew the other bats and their ability and capabilities. You were an unknown factor in this even if he trusted Dick's opinion on you. He knew he could do this himself...in peace and quiet.

“Irony.” You’d stated back. “Red Hood. Joker. Boom.” You shrugged dramatically, earning a glance from Jason. You couldn’t see it through the helmet, but if looks could kill, you’d have been dead on the spot. “It’s not a very threatening name.” Your voice was nonchalant it made Jason want to groan for ten minutes.

“Excuse me?” Jason shook his head.

“I mean…Red Hood." You stated again, just as casually as before. "Not very threatening for a guy who decapitates people and blows people up.”

Jason moved the binoculars from the helmet and looked back at you. “Okay, so what would you have suggested then, huh?” Jason questioned and he’d have been lying if he said he wasn’t somehow both annoyed to hell and back and also, a bit intrigued about where you’d go with this as you knew anything at all about him.

“I think it would have been hilarious if you kept the Robin mantle actually.” Your voice had been airy and filled with amusement as a smile reached your eyes.

Jason had to bite back his own snicker. “Don’t think anyone would else would have.”

“Well, that’s cause they have shit senses of humor. I mean if I hear Dick say one more pun tonight, I think I’ll have an aneurism.”

“Yeah.” Jason lets out a chuckle this time and you felt as though you had won something from it. “His jokes are the fucking worst.” Jason almost groans through the helmet. “But yours aren’t much better, princess.” Jason stated before picking up the binoculars again to go back to watching the building.

A genuine smile came over your features. “I know.”

Jason's eyes had softened when he’d glanced back over at you. Something about how you held yourself during the stakeout, the ease of the conversation and you bringing up his death. He knew your fighting style, knew about your powers. He knew what you could do and how well off you were and how you were able to perfectly handle yourself. But, the ease of you held yourself on that rooftop was as if everything else were going to be easy for you even if it wasn’t. It was interesting and a bit fun.

“How’d Dick rope you into this anyway?” Jason had asked as he kept his eyes on the building.

“I had nothing else to do.” You laughed softly.

It was true. You didn't and Dick asked. His jokes might be bad but he was always one of your best friends so you'd always help when he asked. But, it wasn't all that big of an ask when Dick mentioned Jason would be helping, too. Maybe you had asked to be teamed with him instead of Steph or Tim this time.

“How about you? Dick said you don’t do the team thing very often.” You asked.

“Had nothing else going on.” Jason had chuckled softly. “If Dick was asking me and everyone else, I felt like I had to help." Jason stated even if he didn't really mind helping out his siblings.

“That’s nice of you.” You’d said.

“It’s nothing.” Jason keeps his eyes on the building you were supposed to be watching.

It’d be a lie if you said you weren’t the least bit intrigued by your friend’s brother. Dick talked about him often enough. You knew stories about The Red Hood. Jason Todd had almost seemed interesting from your perspective. The misfit son who gets brutally murdered and comes back to be, somehow, more of the misfit troublemaker that pisses everyone off. Hero turned anti-hero (you’d refused to call him a villain). It was tragic but he still comes back and instead of deciding to make innocent people suffer like most other people would do if they were him, he decided to just do something about it. Maybe his methods are a bit extreme and maybe he’s a bit of an asshole, but he’s doing something for the greater good. That’s not all bad and you’d always thought that was still better than him doing worse or doing nothing. You’d always thought that made him more interesting, more admirable.

And, maybe it doesn’t hurt that he’s kind of pretty with the blue eyes and white streak of contrast amongst the rest of his black hair.

“So…” You cleared your throat.

Jason looked back at you and then back to the building. “What?”

“Are you always so broody?” You asked bluntly as you moved your eyes back to him.

“I’m not broody.” Jason snapped. He was not broody, he was just busy.

“Kind of are.” You’d smiled with confidence.

“We’re supposed—“

“Blah blah blah." You waved him off because you knew exactly what he was going to say. "I know. We are. We can do the stakeout and get to know each other.”

You were not bad company. But, you were blunt and talkative. Jason didn't really know what to make of it, really. This small conversation had shown him that you would ask and say whatever crossed your mind and he has learned that is not always a good thing. Though, your bluntness and how casual you were about the whole thing was a bit intriguing. This was a job, however, and Jason did not come to make friends with Dick's friend.

“Who the hell said I wanted to get to know you?” Jason had snarked back.

“Ouch.” You huffed as you started feeling a little disheartened. “That was mean.” Your nose had scrunched under your mask.

“Look, princess, we’re on a job. That’s all it is. Don’t take it personally.” Jason shook his head and he didn't intend to hurt your feelings but this was supposed to just be a job.

“You can't me princess and one minute it sounds fine but condescending the next. That’s weird. And the job doesn't have to be boring. Doesn’t silence ever bother you?” You’d asked and it was that question that always irked him.

It’s silent a lot for him. He’s used to it but silence is still deafening. Since getting into the good graces with the family finally, it hadn't been as bad. There was usually someone calling him or something he needed to tell one of them. But, silence can eat at him still. It bothered him, just not on a mission or a job. Silence there was always fine though he didn't think that was entirely the point of your question.

“I’m sorry.” Jason muttered. “I’m not trying to be an asshole. Just wanna get this shit done.” He hadn’t looked back at you once.

You were still intrigued by him. You still wanted to get to know him even if he didn't want to get to know you yet. It wasn't some secret Jason was guarded. That was fine. It didn't really bother you. So, maybe it was dumb then but you decided to just go for it.

“Wanna grab something to eat after then?” You asked bluntly, getting Jason’s attention.

“What?” Jason asked quickly as he turned his head to look at you again.

“Like food?” You quipped. “You and me. Food, get to know each other.” Your voice had sounded a little more nervous this time.

"You actually want to get to know me?" Jason questioned. "Thought you were making conversation."

"Well..." You shrugged softly. "Yeah, conversation but I also want to get to know you. You seem fun." You'd managed to pull off a cheeky smile with your last sentence.

Jason had actually laughed. “I seem fun?”

“Are you an owl?” You quipped back as you matched his laughter. “Yeah, Red Hood seems like he’d be fun." You urged. "Get food with me.” You shrugged softly as hope echoed into your eyes.

Jason almost said no. Lately, he regrets not saying no. He should have. He swears left and right, up and down, every piece of him should have just said no. But, he thought you were pretty and funny and interesting. It’d been a while since Jason just got to know someone. He thought it would have been nice and you had so much hope in your eyes, he wasn't sure he could have mustered up a no if he really tried. There was something about you that made him interested enough to just get food. That would be all it would be. Just food. A no was never going to be an answer.

“Fine but I pick the place.” Jason stated before he looked back at the building.

You’d beamed from under the mask, a rush of heat coming to your cheeks. “Okay, Red.” You nearly laughed. “I trust you.”

----

Jason's legs are trembling and it's getting harder to breathe. It is as if his own memories are strangling him from the inside out, a desperate attempt to suck the life out of him one last time. He used to look at that night with a sense of fondness, almost nostalgia because of how far the two of you had come in three years. But, now it's just tainted memories haunted by the vision of you and the false concept of Jason Todd being allowed to be happy.

He remembers so vividly you telling him you trusted him as if it were somehow something so easy for you. You trusted him and you barely knew him. Jason knew then Dick likely told you some stuff about him, Steph, too probably. Maybe the other bats if you ever asked but under no circumstances should you have just so blindly trusted him after meeting him a handful of times, this having been one of the only actual conversations you had. But you did and something about it made Jason both want to jump off the roof and fall right onto the concrete below him and make his heart melt from his chest.

He thinks about it for just that single second, it was nice. It was a silly thought, he swears it was. No one should trust him because people trust him and then they get hurt, right? That’s how the story goes. In one way or another, they get hurt. Maybe it’s Jason doing the hurting in his typical self-destruction way or it’s worse. But, they get hurt. You trusted him and he thinks that’s the exact moment he should have evacuated. That night changed everything because he didn’t. He didn’t evacuate like he had all but been trained to do. He went to get food with you.

----

“So, tell me about you, Jason Todd.” You had grinned wickedly at him as you pointed a limp french fry at him from across the booth.

Jason shook his head as he leaned back. “Like what?”

“Dunno.” You shrugged and the grin never left your face. “What do you like to do for fun?” You asked so sincerely Jason had burst into a fit of laughter.

It echoes through the small diner. Booms off the booth and the glasses. You’d thought it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. His nose had scrunched and his head tilted back. The laugh was hearty and somehow soft. It fit him so well and he seemed so genuinely happy.

“What I do for fun? That’s what you want to know?” Jason quipped back as he caught his breath.

“I’m sorry that question wasn’t up to your standards?” You had laughed back and Jason felt his heart skip a single beat.

“No, not that. Of all things you could ask though, that’s what you want to know?” Jason asked.

“Well, yeah.” You’d answered easily. “I know what you do for a living. So, what do you like to do when you’re not doing that?”

There was something so honest and sincere about how you’d asked, Jason almost felt comfortable laying it out. His interests are his and in a way, he always likes keeping them a little close to his chest. Some things he doesn’t tell everyone but others…it’s okay that they know but they’re his. But you were eating your fries, just waiting, filled with hope.

“I like to read.” Jason stated simply as he plucked one of his fries from his plate.

“Oh! Like what?” You asked with eyes wide as you put an elbow on the table to lean in. Dick said Jason was guarded so you didn’t think you’d get too much out of him tonight but you were so relieved you got something from him.

Maybe you’d had a crush on him from a distance for a while.

“Uh..” Jason offered an awkward chuckle. “Like Jane Austen.” Jason shrugged. “Mary Shelley.”

You shook your head in surprise. “Not what I expected.”

“Yeah, yeah--” Jason had started to wave you off.

“No, I mean, I dunno. Thought it’d be like…Godfather-type books. Or something.” You were the one who offered an awkward chuckle that time. “I love Frankenstein.” You'd said it softly with a tender smile and Jason felt relieved.

Jason had asked you what it was about Frankenstein you liked so much and you just went on a whole ramble about it. Jason hung onto every word as if your voice was the sound of his favorite song played on repeat. He just...listened and something about the way he smiled made your heart jump and spin. You may not have had the excessive amount of trauma Jason did but...there was always something that felt comforting when someone let you ramble and he did. Not once did he seem bored or disinterested and then you got to watch his face light up when you asked him why he liked Jane Austen and what his favorites were.

It was Jason's turn to ramble and it wasn't much at first but the more he got going, it was like the more excited about it he got. His face lit up like a Christmas tree and he got a little more dramatic and he relaxed a little in his seat. Jason didn't get a lot of chances to really ramble about his interests, not like this. But, you gave him that in the little diner booth and it felt comforting. It felt nice. It was fun and he'd have been lying if he said he didn't really enjoy it. And the more you asked about his interests and participated in conversation, the more comfortable he felt.

He was still guarded but you shared some interests so it felt easier to let the conversation go where it wanted, bouncing back and forth between some of both of your favorites and hobbies. It felt good to let go for a few hours. You wanted to get to know him and as it would have turned out, he was really enjoying getting to know you, too.

“What else do you do for fun?” Jason asked as he rested his elbow on the table, now a few hours into this getting to know each other thing.

“Ask broody men out to get food.” You’d laughed that was more of a snicker as if you were proud of yourself for the comment and it got Jason to chuckle right back.

“Oh, so I’m just a meal ticket tonight?!” Jason had asked with sarcasm.

“And a conversation!” You had defended, the both of you laughing.

“I am so hurt.” Jason had said it dramatically, easily.

“Oh, I am so sorry.” Your eyes had widened with sarcasm. “How will you ever recover?” You faked a whine, a hand over your heart and then Jason gained this smirk.

Jason knew it was getting to be early in the morning and you'd have to end this whole thing soon but that did not mean he didn't want to continue getting to know you. You were right. This was fun and maybe he liked your company after all. He liked how easy you made this whole thing seem. No part of him really wanted this to end so he decided to go for it, just as you did.

“What are you doing Thursday?” Jason asked bluntly.

It caught you off guard and it took everything in you not to burst at the seams. You hoped Jason didn’t notice.

He did.

“Uh…” You stuttered with a gushy smile. “Nothing, I don’t think.” You bit the inside of your cheek to try to calm down the smile while you failed miserably. “What’d you have in mind?”

----

Tears are hot on Jason’s cheeks as he remembers that night as if it had just happened. His teeth are clenched so hard they might just shatter right through his gums. His breathing is quick and everything starts to ache.

You had been so happy that he asked you to do something with him, he never thought twice about taking it back. The thought could have crept up on him and he would have shoved it into the darkest corner of his mind because the idea of disappointing you nearly shattered him. He didn’t even know you but there was hope and kindness and sarcasm and you were funny. You didn’t care. You told him Red Hood was not scary. You looked at him with kindness and hope, two things most people do not look at him with and he felt important for those four hours in that booth with you. So, he decided to take that risk.

Risks are a part of his daily life. They are usually calculated and you had told him they were not always calculated in a way that was really all too beneficial to him. The odds were never on his side very often. But that’s just part of the job, something you did understand. Jason was used to risk. His whole life had been one risk after the other just to survive. He was good at taking risks and showing them he didn’t care. This was a risk he wishes he never took though. Showing you these parts of himself and finally letting his guard down. He regrets that risk because he had just done what he always does and wouldn’t have caved about it, none of this would have happened because you would have given up. He bites his tongue as he remembers the exact moment he wanted to flee and decided not to.

----

You were on a rooftop in Crime Alley, not too high up and below you, Jason was kneeling in front of a few kids. You were not spying on him. You were supposed to meet up together while you were in Gotham, this was the spot but apparently, the kids had other ideas. He was just kneeling down to their level, no helmet and a smile beaming back at them. The two kids who couldn’t have been older than seven, looked at him like he was their hero. Jason was not the scary Red Hood who blows people up with c4 or the guy who will decapitate people to get what he wants from other people or the guy who might as well be a sharpshooter and is not afraid to display it. They do not look at him like a weapon. They look at him like he will protect them and he is so kind.

You’d been on a few dates over the last few months, nothing too serious even if neither of you were looking or talking to anyone else. It was nothing too serious even if you both talked nearly nonstop and maybe you couldn’t stop thinking about each other. But, it’d only been a few dates and you didn’t know each other too well yet and that was okay. But, something you had learned was that Jason is very kind. He is a huge asshole but he is so kind. Innocent people, kids, he is nice to them, far nicer than most people are. Jason Todd can and will kill people but he is not as ruthless and calloused as other people think he is and maybe have convinced him he is. So you had sat on that rooftop and watched him with those kids.

He laughed at what you would only assume were bad jokes and Jason never let the smile fall from his lips. It was just the two kids at first then there were five and then ten. He somehow had gathered a group of kids who were just interested in meeting the Red Hood. One of them had a scraped knee so you watched as Jason pulled out a bandaid from his tactical belt. You couldn’t make it out but you did see it was purple and black. He spent an hour just entertaining these kids before they finally decided to disburse.

“Kids, huh?” You had asked once your feet were on solid ground.

Jason quickly turned around, a quirked brow raised as he looked to the roof. “How long were you watching me?”

“Well, I’m never late so…” Your mask covered your smile but he could tell by the way you looked down and the crinkles by your eyes you were smiling. “You’re different with them.” You stated, blunt as always.

“Well, they’re kids so….” Jason said, unsure what your point would have been.

You nodded. “Yeah, I mean…kids…the, uh, the homeless, sex workers, addicts. You're different. You’re different with people here.” You pointed it out because you'd noticed before.

This was your third time in Crime Alley with Jason and he was always different here. It was always rooted in an understanding and a genuine kindness and empathy for things people have dealt with. He never treated someone differently because of their circumstances and instead, he fought for them. You'd seen your fair share of people being cruel to kids and the homeless, sex workers, addicts, the poor. Jason just isn't. Jason gave you a little more faith in humanity.

Meanwhile, Jason could never wrap his head around your bluntness. You never cared how something sounded or how it came off. You just said what you were thinking. That scared him. And made him feel at ease. He knew he would never have to question your intentions but he also had absolutely no idea what you were thinking.

“Grew up here.” Jason pulled in a breath as he rested the helmet on his hip. “I know what it's like.” Jason admitted and it was a small sliver of information he gave up willingly.

You had nodded softly. “Yeah, uh…Dick said you grew up here. Shit was hard for you until Bruce caught you.”

Jason had let out this sort of scoff that was almost a chuckle as he looked up to the sky and then the right. You couldn't tell if it was something bitter in him that was turning or something pleasant. You'd have put your bet on something bitter if he'd asked.

“Yeah, something like that.” Jason looked back to you, shifting his weight.

Dick had warned you to be careful. It was not to be mean towards Jason by any means. It was more because Dick knew Jason tended to push and self-sabotage things. He wanted you not to pry too much too quick. You knew you’d likely have to ask him direct questions if there were things you wanted to know but you knew not to pry too much. You didn’t want to scare him off but it’s been a few months and a few dates and you were curious about it. You wanted to know what made Jason Todd, Jason Todd.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” You asked and you were cautious, something you never really were when asking him things.

Jason had hesitated for a second. It was not a secret. He just prefers to not talk about himself and there was a little bit of something bitter thinking about all of it. Thinking about his life in Crime Alley brings back to him meeting Bruce and then dying. It brings him back to coming back and the way Bruce looked at him like he were a monster before throwing a baterang at his neck. It was the way Jason couldn’t figure out why they couldn’t just forgive each other. It brings back bitterness and pain he can’t quite explain. But, it wasn’t all bad and if he were being really honest, he kind of really liked you. Maybe he could tell you some things about it. You'd yet to give him any reason to not tell you so he decided to take that risk and let you into a small part of his world.

“What’d ya wanna know?” Jason asked before he put the helmet back on.

“Uh…” You weren’t sure if he’d be okay to talk about it so you were unprepared. “Whatever you wanna tell me.” You stated simply as you closed the distance between you.

“Well,” Jason cleared his throat. “It wasn’t all bad.” Jason managed a chuckle before he started telling you things about growing up here and things about his parents, helping you better understand him as a person while also allowing Jason’s trust in you to grow.

----

He stands on this rooftop, desperately begging to go back in time and take the risk back. He wants to fall back to three years ago and rip that night from the both of you. You will be disappointed but that is significantly better than this. Jason swears it is better than this. He can not have you. That is fine. You will do better, you will find better, you always deserved better. He wants to go back and take everything back.

His hands are gripping the cement as if that’ll send him into the past and it only makes his chest feel like it might split open and spill his heart out. He'd dig his own hand into his ribcage and rip his heart from his chest if it would fix any of this. Jason's hands shake with his grip and he would do anything, sacrifice anything he could just to go back. He wants to take it all back even if it’ll hurt you because he remembers that time you told him you had a crush on him.

----

“How long?!” Jason had scrunched his face, confused and insane amused.

“Like a year.” It was more of an awkward giggle that you let out. “I don’t know!” You threw your arm out dramatically, almost regretting telling him. You knew he would be teasing you forever over it now.

“You’ve liked me for a year?” Jason chuckled. “Fucking why? You didn’t even know me!” Jason repositioned on the couch, resting his arm on the back of the couch as he faced you.

“That was part of the fun!” Your eyes had widened as you defended yourself. “I don’t know. Something about the white streak of hair and broad shoulders and…” You pulled in a breath as you shook your head at him, more to try and tease him. “I don’t know. I thought you seemed interesting.”

Dick introduced you at one of the Wayne party things they had at the manor. You were so nervous you could have died right then and there. It really was something about the white streak of hair and the broad shoulders, the thick thighs, and the way his eyes were so damn pretty you could have combusted. His canines were a bit sharp so it looked like he had tiny fangs when the sun hit them just right. Jason didn’t say too much but you thought he was pretty. And you caught glimpses of him throughout the day, laughing with his siblings and rolling his eyes at Bruce and helping Alfred with some of the food. He was big and tall and a little intimidating but not when he was just existing with his family and you found that interesting. The crush went from there.

“Was this before or after Dick told you about me?" Jason had raised a brow, still trying to fathom why you were so interested in him without having had a single conversation.

"After." You answered simply. "He told me all of your stories pretty early on into the friendship. Got to hear all about the kids of Bruce Wayne and company." You stated with a soft smile.

"Why then?" It was a genuine question he had. "And why didn't you say anything for a year?" Jason probably wouldn't have said anything at all if it were him but he's surprised you waited so long since you never seemed to hide any of your emotions.

"I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it." You laughed softly, looking down for a second before looking back to him. "I didn't see you often, thought maybe it'd fade but it did not." You scrunched your nose as your smile grew. "But, uh, I don't know. Dick told me you died and how and…that you guys didn’t get along to put it lightly…since you came back. At first. You were all good then now but it took awhile. But then I meet you and…” You shook your head. “You didn’t seem…mean or…threatening. I don’t know.” You could feel the heat start to burn your cheeks.

You had only heard the story from Dick's point of view at that time. You've since gotten Jason's side but only hearing Dick's was different. There was anger and a sense of betrayal even if it wasn't rightfully placed. It was as if Jason being brought back brought back all of their guilt and grief, too but they never had any way to deal with it. They didn't know where to put it so they put it on the person that caused it, in a roundabout way. It wasn't right and it wasn't right what Jason was doing either. It was just a mess of miscommunication and the inability to move on. Dick spoke fondly of Jason by the time you met, but he told you about all of it so despite his kind words about Jason, you thought maybe he'd be a bit mean and cold and broody and intimidating. But he was not. He was warm and kind and he looked happy. You found it interesting that after everything, Jason was not a cold and cruel person.

“Hey, you can’t go around saying I’m not threatening.” Jason had given you this teasing grin. “You’ll ruin my rep.”

You let out a snort. “Didn’t you just save like a litter of kittens from a car, gave the driver the dirtiest look I had ever seen, and then wouldn’t leave the shelter until they told you they would be fine? Did you not just do that two days ago? Did you not call today to check on them?”

“I’m sorry, should I have let that dickhead hit the kittens?!” Jason asked in horror.

“No!” You let out this laugh that Jason nearly melted into. “I’m just saying, it is not me saying you aren’t threatening. It is going to be those kittens. They’re gonna tell all the other kittens and they’re gonna show up here and then you’re gonna have beef with Selina. I don’t think that’s something you want.” You shrugged casually, trying to withhold your own laugh.

Jason’s booming laugh consumed his entire apartment. “I did not realize saving those kittens would have such a butterfly effect on my relationship with Selina.”

“Shut up!” You groaned as you tossed your head back.

“Okay can we go back to you having a massive crush on me for a year?” Jason eyed you with big doe eyes, mocking you.

“I hate you.” You deadpanned.

“No, you don’t.” Jason pulled in a breath as he gained a giant smile. “Because of your crush on me.” He batted his eyes at you and you wanted to kiss the growing smirk right off of his lips.

“Yeah, I hate you actually. You suck.” You crossed your arms and gave him a fake pout. “My feelings are hurt and everything!”

Jason chuckled before he grabbed your hand from your arm. “I hurt your feelings?” Jason questioned with disbelief, knowing damn well he did not.

“Yes, you did.” You struggled desperately not to break into a fit of laughter as Jason pulled you into his lap.

“You look really hurt.” Jason nodded his head sarcastically, his eyes looking up at you and you thought you'd melt into him.

“I am!” You said it dramatically as a laugh slipped from your lips.

“Right.” Jason nodded his head, his hands coming to your hips. “I am so sorry, could you ever think to forgive me?” Jason questioned with so much sarcasm, you thought he’d start to lose his composure.

“I don’t know.” You answered with a dramatic pout.

Jason let out a laugh. “Your big ole crush on me won’t let you stay mad at me.” Jason leaned toward you, his eyes dodging to your lips.

“You are insufferable.” You stated quietly.

“Sure.” Jason muttered before his hand came to your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss. “So insufferable.” Jason muttered against your lips.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You rolled your eyes and Jason did not waste a single second more to complete the request.

----

Jason remembers how happy it all was. You were like this beam of light in his life and for once, it didn’t seem so damn grim. Half the time, he didn’t care if he came home or not. But then you started dating and he fell so hard for you that he didn’t think he’d ever stop falling. And suddenly, there was this big reason to come home every night. The loss of him for you would hurt, even if it were momentary. And…he liked being able to come home to you on weekends when you'd stay in Gotham. He liked having someone to come home to. He liked being happy and having a reason to be happy.

Half that time he didn’t care if he came home or not and that caused its fair share of fights. Jason's breath shakes in the cold breeze as his chin quivers, remembering the fights you'd have about it. There were never many because you just didn't fight. Jason would sometimes push and pull, try to sabotage things and you always just called him on his shit, rarely ever even raising your voice at him. But, these fights happened because you cared about him and Jason didn't know what he was supposed to do with that. He was never entirely sure if he could carry it even though you became one of the most important people in his life. He thought you'd leave, maybe, until the last time you fought about it. As tears spill from his eyes, he remembers the last fight you ever had about him being careful.

----

“Why the fuck are you mad now?” Jason groaned from the bathroom as he cleaned up the first aid supplies.

“I don’t fucking know, Jay. Why the fuck would I be mad?!” You yelled back, storming through his apartment. Everything felt too tight, too hard, too much.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have fucking asked!” Jason yelled back as he followed you into the living room.

You didn’t normally fight and if you did, it was small stuff. Not this. This felt big. It had scared him because as much as he loved to push, he didn't want to lose you. It was never about him, it was always about you deserving better than him or deserving more. But, he almost felt paralyzed at the thought this fight wasn't going to be like the others. He thought you'd finally had it.

“Maybe that’s the problem.” It was more a mutter but Jason was close enough to you not that he heard it.

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?” Jason questioned and he could feel his heart breaking into pieces through his throat.

“Maybe you should fucking know why I’m pissed. But you don’t. Did you ever consider that is the problem, Jay?”

It was not that you were even mad. It was that you were worried about him. You'd just cleaned up a few really nasty cuts again and that was fine. You didn't mind. He always did it for you, too. It was part of the job. It was how frequent it happen and how nonchalant he always was about the whole damn thing. It terrified you and you'd told him over and over. He was normally a good listener but...not when it came to this. And it hurt.

“You were fine earlier! Now you’re not?!” Jason looked to the ceiling in frustration. “I am not a damn mind reader!”

You nearly pulled your hair out. “I am not asking to be a mind reader!” You screamed back at him as tears burned your eyes. “I am asking you to fucking listen to me!”

“I do listen--”

“No! I get it.” You caved, bringing your voice back down but it is far more in frustration. “I get what you do. I am not asking you to give it up. I am asking you to be careful.” The last few words had come out as a plea and the fury and annoyance Jason had disappeared.

“That’s just part of the job.” Jason tried to defend softly this time.

“We both know you can be more careful, Jay.” You said it so candidly that Jason felt guilty for not trying harder. You were right. “Uh…I, uh, I had a nightmare a few nights ago.” You confessed. “And, uh, it was about you. And I’ve been thinking about it ever since because it felt really real. And then today…it just…” You shook your head. “This has been…the best year of my life.” You admitted as your chin started to wrinkle and your bottom lip quivered. “Because of you so I think…about losing you and I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Jason almost felt frozen because he couldn't tell where this was going to go and he wasn’t sure where he wanted it to go. The only thing he did know was that he didn't want you worrying so much about him and he felt guilty for putting it on you.

“I know it’s part of the job.” You nodded easily. “I know. I do it, too. But that doesn't make it hurt any less.” You admitted. “And I just…I wish you would be a little bit more careful because I love you.”

Everything froze for Jason. The idea of being loved is almost something he had chased for so long, he never thought he’d get it. He always chased it only to bite it when it comes close to him. It’s scary. The idea of someone loving him and him loving someone else. What if he fucks it up like he’s done to everything else? He couldn't believe he hadn’t fucked this up yet. You’ve clocked him self-sabotaging a few times, he hadn’t in a while but you caught it. You swore he never needed to because you liked him for him. You didn’t care about the dark and scary shit inside his head or the things he’d done. That never mattered to you because he is kind and a good person. He never could believe it but he chose to trust you anyway. And now he was standing here and he had no idea what to do because he could run but the idea of that made him want to burn through the floor.

“What?” Jason finally got out.

“I love you.” You said it again, honestly. It wasn't really how you wanted to tell him. You knew you would eventually but Jason can be a little skittish so you only wanted to do it when you thought he was ready to hear it. You were not sure if he was ready but you couldn't hide it from him anymore. “It’s okay if you don’t feel that way.” You nodded your head even if you didn’t think that was the problem. “Or if you’re unsure if you can say it. I just…I wanted to tell you so maybe…” You had let out a breath. “You’ll know why I worry and I want you to be more careful. I know that…this might not go the way we want in the end but…I just want you to try.”

He thought he didn’t deserve you. He did not deserve that sort of kindness or care or worry but you offered it so easily. You offered it to him as if it was the same as taking a breath. You offered an understanding with it. It’s something even Jason didn’t think about much, you being the one that didn’t make it home. He pushed it away because he felt like he might fall into the center of the earth if that would happen. It would be earth-shattering to him if it were you. You were at least careful when you would go on patrol and he did think that would help, to know you tried to come home to him. It is not fair to not offer you the same deal.

Jason closed the distance between you and you didn’t think he’d say it back which was okay. It would hurt but he had told you so much. Ever since that night months ago when you asked about his childhood, he had told you so much. You knew about being homeless and the things he has witnessed even as a child. You knew. You knew the horrors he had encountered through his life and if it were you, you weren't so sure you would offer those words. But just because he may not be able to say them, did not mean he did not deserve to know how you felt. That did not mean he did not deserve to know people loved him and they wanted him to stay alive. It would hurt but you thought it’d be fine because you knew he loved you.

“I’m sorry, princess.” Jason stated, his voice rough and honest as a hand came to your cheek. His thumb rubbed over your cheek as you nodded against him. “I’ll be careful.” He stated. “I didn’t know.” He admitted.

“I know.” You started back, eyes locked on his. They were red and his eyes were a deep shade of blue like he was on the verge of bursting into tears. “That’s why I told you.”

“Promise, I’ll be more careful out there.” Jason nodded down at you. “I, uh…” Jason pulled in a breath. “I love you, too.” He said carefully but honestly as a gentle smile came to your face.

“Was hoping you did.” You nodded back at him. “I’m sorry for getting so mad. Just worry.”

“It’s okay.” Jason pulled you into him, his arms engulfing you. “I know you worry. I’m sorry for yelling back.” Jason apologized, placing a kiss to your head.

“Can we just get takeout?” You let out a soft laugh, looking up to him. “We can eat and watch some bad reality TV.”

Jason let out a laugh. “What food were you feeling?”

----

A sob rips through Jason’s throat, clawing its way into the cold of Gotham’s air. His legs give out before he can catch a breath and he collapses onto the pavement of the roof. It all hurts. Every piece of his body is aching and crashing like it never should have made it this far. His arms and legs shake as he turns to rest his back against the ledge. He pulls his legs to his chest as his face becomes soaked in his own tears. His lungs start to burn with every sob as he can’t get a full breath in. The world around him starts to spin and it all hurts. Why does it have to hurt so much? He loves you and he will always love you and it will always be painful.

----

Lightning ripped through the sky and you were handling yourself as you always did. You were good on your own. But that night, five days ago, was different. It was different because it was not some big bad that would be the cause. All of that was going so well. It was a simple mistake. Wrong timing. An accident.

Jason had been fighting one of the goons, a nasty fistfight. The goon had some sort of training. Jason was confident, he’d beat him he put up a hell of a fight. It was a hell of a fight until it turned more brutal, getting more physical with punches and kicks, the goon picking Jason up and trying to throw him across the lot. It was getting messy while you were dealing with one of the metas. You were throwing lightning bolts as fast as you could manage while minding where Jason was. It should have been fine because you’d done this before. But, Jason tripped.

He tripped over something left on the ground and that gave the goon enough of a gap to grab him. When he was grabbed, Jason was thrown right into a pile of glass and metal just as you were throwing a lightning bolt in that direction at the meta. You missed Jason but you hit the reflective metals, sending the bolt back to you.

You went down immediately and Jason stopped breathing. The goon and meta took off while Jason was back on his feet, rushing over to you. Panic had flooded his body in that exact instant. You went down hard and the lightning threw you back. He knew.

He pulled your body into his lap, checking for a pulse and trying to feel if you were breathing only to find nothing. His hands were shaking so bad he could barely hold you in his lap.

He called your name with a tremble of his voice. “Come on, you gotta wake up.” He said it quietly, trying to keep himself together, desperately still trying to find a pulse. “Wake up.” He said it more sternly that time as he shook your head lightly.

You were lifeless in his lap and he was at a loss. What is he supposed to do?!

He moved to put your back on the ground and he started CPR before he used the comms to get ahold of Oracle. He told her what happened as he performed CPR, desperate to bring you back to him. You had to come back, right? It was your own lightning bolt. How can you be killed by your own powers? That sounds like such a rip-off. And Jason bit his sobs back because it shouldn’t have been you. It couldn't be you. It was supposed to be him because he needed to be more careful. He didn’t have powers. He already died before. He put a bomb in his helmet. It was supposed to be him to go first but you were not breathing.

You wouldn't breathe.

He tried and he tried until the other bats started showing to offer some help. He tried and tried and tried and it wasn’t good enough because the lightning was too much and he was clumsy. He fucking tripped and he slipped and that was it. It led you to getting hurt. It led you to getting killed. It is all his fault.

----

Jason’s hands cover his face as he keeps sobbing, nausea filling his stomach. His stomach is in agonizing pain and he can’t bear to even attempt to pull himself together. What is he supposed to do? It’s his fault. He can never forgive himself for it and he knows it. You deserved better and he should have just said no three years ago. Had he just turned you down, you’d be alive and off somewhere living your life. Had he just been more careful. It doesn’t matter that everyone has tried to convince him it wasn’t his fault because he always sees it that way. And he misses you.

He wakes up and he misses you and that’s if he can even get any damn sleep. He wakes up and he misses you and he tries to eat and he misses you. Bruce comes over to check on him and he misses you. He sees some of your stuff littered over his apartment and he misses you. His entire chest feels like it might cave right in every single second of every day. It’s as if he is dragging his feet from one minute to the next with no real destination or desire. He moves because he has no choice. He just wants the pain to stop. He wants you back. You didn’t deserve to die.

How he is ever supposed to move on from this? From you?

The memories he once looked back on are now tainted with pain. And that is the only thing he has left of you. What is he supposed to do?

How is he supposed to live with the pain of losing you?

Hands rest on Jason’s knees, gentle and soft, gathering Jason’s attention. Jason’s own sobs were so loud, he entirely missed the presence of another person coming onto the roof with him and he missed the sound of footsteps approaching and then stopping in front of him. He missed it all and not a single part of him even cares. But, he looks up anyway and his breath catches in his throat as his eyes widen. How?

“Jay?” Your voice is quiet and broken with the sight of him.

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 months

Note

Reverse-verse.

Content warning at the end for suicidal ideation. Nothing graphic.

Jason leaned against the wall where Babs was typing training notes and jerked his head to where you were talking to Bruce. Evidence notes in hand. "So the Emo doesn't have to train why?"

"Physiology," she answered, not looking up. "When they messed with the structures in her brain they messed with well... everything." "Which translates to no cardio how?" he scoffed, wiping sweat off his forehead.

"If she trained like the rest of you she'd have to eat like a Speedster and take enough vitamins to fuck her organs," she said. "If that's not clear enough- They made her pretty powerful sure but also pretty fragile."

"So much for a super soldier-"

"She's slightly stronger and slightly faster than a normal person but only in short bursts. And she lives in constant hell. So. You know. I don't begrudge her not having to run." She gave him a meaningful look, eyes narrowing.

"It can't be that bad."

Barbara shrugged, "If you're man enough, have her show you. If you're not- or she won't- Ask Bruce how he found her. Then see if you say that." And before he could sulk anymore, she stowed her laptop in it's compartment and left. He had every right to be pissed. At Bruce. At the Joker. At every injustice in the world. But- you hadn't had anything to do with it and she was tired of hearing about it.

_________________

"Jason," Bruce said glancing up, "you can't have-"

"It's not about guns," he snorted. "I'm not carrying the stupid crowbar. A tire Iron is more fun. I wanna know about Y/N."

"Why?" Bruce asked, eyes narrowing.

"Well, she's one of my replacements so-"

"No one replaced you, first of all. And second of all-"

"Where'd you find her?" he asked, cutting to the chase. He hadn't asked you. It felt weird. Mostly because you would barely look at him. And you only ever spoke to him when you needed to in order to be polite.

Bruce sat back in his chair with a sigh and scrubbed his hand through his hair. "If you use this to-"

"I just wanna know!" he protested. "Everyone treats her like a pet!"

"We," Bruce started after a long moment, "found her in the bottom of a cage. Almost dead. Mostly naked and filthy. Treated worse than an animal. If she hadn't whimpered, Dick would have thought she was dead." Bruce paused for a second; swallowing down the sick feeling he'd thought was the gore and the scent of blood in the air.

"Scientists were looking for kids like her. Kids with heightened abilities they could exploit," he explained. "She was the last survivor, somehow."

Jason wasn't looking at him. If not for how still he was, and how tense, Bruce would have thought he wasn't listening. But now, his sense of injustice was rankled. And he was listening. "Long story short," he continued, not wanting to dwell on it, "they wanted a soldier. They tried to desensitize her to violence and well. It didn't go like they planned."

"How?" he asked, looking up slowly.

"They forced her to kill people," Bruce said wincing.

"But when you found her-"

"She was trying to kill herself," Bruce said sadly. "She lost control and made a building of scientists and guards- about 20 people kill themselves."

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #science experiment!reverse

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scintillyyy · 1 month

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alright, here it is: the crocky jr!tim au nobody, and i mean nobody, asked for (for u, @zahri-melitor)

so we start our au at a very good place to start: croc "kills" tim during J:LL

except, he doesn't kill tim. he almost does, he beats him up pretty badly, and then snaps out of his jokerization seeing a beat up kid. croc then decides to enter a "protect kids" era, and disappears with an unconscious tim into the sewers.

meanwhile, huntress just finds some bones and tim's robin costume, clearly destroyed by croc. they think tim has been killed by croc, but killer croc is nowhere to be found

and they have more pressing issues: dick has gone to kill the joker

which he does, just before bruce et al show up. bruce throws dick off the joker and starts cpr. dick finally realizes what he's done.

however since tim is "dead" due to joker jokerizing all the villains, this leads to a major rift between bruce and dick. dick can't look at anyone because he killed the joker and because tim is dead. he goes on a self-destructive bender because of this in particular dick fashion partially due to how he *thinks* bruce is handling it, or lack thereof.

because bruce has done an analysis of the body and has realized that the body they found is *not* tim. does he tell anyone this? no ofc not. because he wants to find tim before he tells anyone he thinks tim might actually be alive. he's bruce. he's not known for good decisions. he does pay a large amount of money to send the brentwood boys to a semester in, like. switzerland to hide tim's "death" from jack. this is one thing that dick does NOT approve of, he thinks they should tell jack. this furthers the wedge between them. let's just say that bruce. doesn't adopt dick at this time. it's not a good time.

meanwhile tim has amnesia from his beating and lives in the sewers with killer croc. he kind of thinks croc is his dad and if there's one thing that can't fix his eternal sense of duty and tendency to make himself suffer it's amnesia. so he wants to help his dad. so he gets a costume--he is no longer tim drake, robin. no. he is now crocky jr. fear killer croc and his new sidekick.

we're actually going to insert steph-robin here because she thinks her boyfriend died & becomes robin to avenge him. dick also doesn't like what he feels is her swooping in to replace tim before he's even cold in the ground which is also why he's avoiding gotham. however, this doesn't work out super long for her, not because she makes a mistake but because bruce gets framed for murder and steph gets left out in the cold. this also completely sidetracks bruce's looking for tim thing he's got going on. which leaves tim as crocky jr.

so we're in a very bad place here. dick is depressed and destroying himself and hasn't even come back to help with the bruce thing, bruce is in jail for murder, steph is out in the cold, and tim is now a supervillain sidekick with amnesia. thank god helena and dinah and babs and cass still exist.

because huntress has been on a rampage for killer croc on account of she thinks he murdered robin. she finds him...and his new sidekick, who she recognizes right away. she tries to get through to him but he doesn't remember her :( but he does still try and stop killer croc from hurting her, even if he can't explain why he doesn't want her hurt

she's like "wtf do i do here" and eventually settles on calling oracle who's like "gdi. we need to call nightwing". since nightwing is currently not talking to anyone in gotham she sends dinah and cass to go beat him up and tell him robin is still alive.

bruce broke himself out of jail. he is being thoroughly ignored. he's okay with that. sorry bruce. babs is trying to investigate the fairchild murder on her own with cass, but. bruce is not making it easy.

anyways nightwing comes back. he fights croc for tim. tim doesn't recognize him until dick does a quadruple somersault and then all of tim's memories come back

which, now he's one the side of good! but he's still terrible fond of killer croc now. killer croc took care of him. he'll always be a little bit crocky jr. forever even as he makes his return to the robin mantle :)

i suppose now that tim's back they all band together to prove bruce innocent. after bruce gets his head out of his ass, he's also like "yea i knew you didn't die tim". dick punches him into the memorial case.

#tim drake #anyways. anyways.#i hope you enjoy this silly little thing

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pinkiemachine · 6 days

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GOTHAM FILES: MOVIE FINALE

THE TIME HAS COME! BRUCE IS GETTING MARRIED!!!!!

Somebody get some flowers! 💐 Somebody get a ring! 💍 Somebody get a chapel and a choir to sing! 🎶

Somebody get an organ to play! Cause somebody’s getting married today! 🔔 💕 🔔

This literally could not be a bigger deal! No one, and I mean NO ONE expected Bruce to ever get married. Alfred is so proud of him. He’s come such a long way. They all have.

Buuut…

Guess who’s slighted that he wasn’t invited? It’s Joker.

He’s pretty ticked at Batman. He’s taken Harley, he’s taken half his vision, he’s taken most of Gotham from him… and now he’s gonna stand up at that alter, being all happy? No no no… he’ll give him something to REALLY smile about…

So, the film goes about how you’d expect. Relationship drama, family drama, trying to put the wedding of the century together drama, and in the background, Joker’s ramping up to cause trouble. But also also in the background… Bruce is reminiscing hard on his past. He goes to visit his parents in the cemetery. He says he thinks they’d be proud of their grandkids. He just wishes… he’d finally been able to find the man who did it… who took them away from him. But then… he decides to take another look at that case… there might be some new evidence that’s come forward recently…

Anyhoo, that doesn’t last long, because: Joker.

Naturally, he hijacks the wedding, nearly stops the marriage entirely, but this time… this time, it’s not about the whole family coming together to fight a common foe. I mean, they’re all there, helping in their own ways, but… when it comes to Joker… this is it. This is the final showdown. Just him and Bruce. The way it was always meant to be. And this is the last time he tries to murder his kids, or his soon-to-be wife, or his friends. This is the last time he escapes Arkham. This is the last time he attacks Gotham.

Technically, it was Joker’s own fault… but Bruce didn’t exactly go rushing in to save him…

Either way…

…the Joker is finally dead.

Thus marks the end of an era.

The wedding continues (everyone’s a little banged up, but otherwise okay) and Bruce and Selina are officially husband and wife!

Later, at the reception, Bruce looks around at everyone… all his friends and family… and he can’t help but feel overcome with a bittersweet joy. He stands and makes a speech. He says that… when he was a boy, he thought he had lost everything. He thought his life was meaningless. He thought he would get lost in that darkness forever. But it turns out, he was never truly alone. And now, life had blessed him tenfold.

Alfred, who had never wavered once over the course of his life, and had always been there with a shoulder to cry on, or a pat on the back, or a quick scolding. The man who always believed Bruce no matter what, and who had become a father to him. He wouldn’t be the man he was today without Alfred.

Dick, the goofy kid he found years ago, and who barrelled into Bruce’s life so unexpectedly… he had been Bruce’s first guiding light. His first Robin. His first son. And he had made Bruce so proud, seeing the man he had become. A far better man than he was.

Barbara, his first Batgirl, and an unwavering ally in the fight. Her bravery and quick-thinking had saved Bruce on numerous occasions, and she had become a good friend. Not only that, but a good mentor as well. She would surely go on to do many more amazing things.

Jason, who never once stopped making him laugh. (Something Dick was always jealous of.) Jason, who they almost lost… but found his way back home. He doesn’t regret taking him in for even a second. He’d do it all over again the same way, just to see that smile of his… and although they differed in philosophy… he was proud of Jason, too.

Tim, who barged in unannounced, but ended up being the most welcome. The light he needed most during the dark days. Without Tim, Bruce might never have recovered… if it weren’t for his intelligence and determination… this wedding might not even be happening. So thanks, Tim. Thanks for all your hard work and sacrifice over the years. Bruce couldn’t be more proud.

Steph, the bravest, boldest, and loudest of them all. The glue that held them all together when all else had failed. The last bit of energy and optimism that he and Tim needed to get over those hurdles… she was just as much a blessing as any of the other Robins, despite how short her time with the title was.

Cass, who was hiding in the darkest corner of the room because she’s very antisocial, was another welcome surprise. She was growing into a fine superhero, and a wonderful person, and Bruce was happy for her.

Duke, the newest member of the family, who had never stopped working hard to help them achieve their goals and who single handedly helped keep Gotham afloat while he was away. He was proud of him too.

Of course, there were all his friends in the Justice League—Clark and Diana especially—not to mention Lucious, and all his years of hard work, Commissioner Gordon, Luke, Catherine, Harper, Claire, and so many more…

…but the person he was most thankful for was Damian. He had grown so much over these last five years. He had matured and made difficult decisions, had taught Bruce more lessons than he could count, had brought many new animal friends with him, and he had made Bruce so immensely proud to call him his son. If Thomas and Martha could see him now… Bruce knew that Damian would continue to grow into a great man. A good man. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind about that.

So here’s to family. Here’s to the long nights and the hard conversations. Here’s to the breakups and the reunions. To the first kisses, the newborn babies, the long walks and good times. Here’s to love… and here’s to the future. If it’s anything like these past 17 years… then Bruce can’t wait for it.

And now, there’s one final loose end.

After the speech, Gordon takes Bruce aside. He says, he’s got his wedding gift with him and he might want to take a look at it now. They’ve finally been able to determine who the Waynes’ killer was.

Bruce discreetly excuses himself from the party for a moment…

He goes to this quiet part of Gotham and the address listed brings him to an apartment… there’s a woman inside… and a baby… The file says that this man had been arrested for various unrelated crimes and went to prison for a total of thirty-five years. Now it seemed like he was trying to get his life together. He didn’t at all resemble the man in the alley from that night. And now that Bruce had found him… he was faced with a big question. What should he do? He watched the man eat dinner with his wife and clean up after his baby boy… they were living in a low-rent district… they looked like they didn’t have much… but they were trying. Trying their best. As much as it hurt… Bruce was happy for them. Happy that this man was in a better place. Happy that he had faced some form of punishment and had taken that as a good wake up call.

He left the apartment, no one having seen him.

Back at Wayne Manor, the reception was still carrying on down on the grounds outside. Bruce was in his study. He seemed tired. Tired, but happy. Selina came in, wondering where he had disappeared to. It was time to take off for the honeymoon. Bruce just smiled and took her hand, leading her back out. As we pan down to Bruce’s desk, we see Thomas and Martha’s case file… and on that file are written two words:

Case Closed.

Part 9 👇

#dc #dc comics #batman #bat family #robin #Bruce wayne #Selina kyle #joker #batfam #fandom #Gotham files #fan fiction

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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year

Text

RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

────────────────────

“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, brief mention of suicidal thoughts

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

You brace your hands on your hips, stern twist to your features.

“I failed worse than I thought as a parent if you think a couple of dropped criminals is going to make me hate you-.”

“There’s way more than a couple,” he scoffs.

You’re swiping your hand through the air before Jason’s even finished, the furrow on your face mirroring his own perfectly.

“And I truly don’t give a fuck.”

Whatever he was about to say stops dead on the tip of his tongue and he balks, eyes widening a fraction.

“Ma…”

And it almost - it almost makes you laugh out loud. The way he says it.

The mirth that leaks into your voice can’t be helped. “Boy…” you shake your head. “Nothing about this situation is normal, your killing isn’t going to be the magic thing that throws me off. Plus, I have been looking into what you’ve been doing. I know you've killed people and honestly…I don’t care. The hero sticht was never for me, I have a code and it’s not Bruce’s, but at the end of the day none of that matters. Your choices are your own Jason.”

You swallow thickly before continuing, “You’re an…adult now, you don’t need my blessing.”

You won’t say it cause you know it’ll piss him off, but Jason didn’t operate in uncertainty the same as Bruce. So attempting to talk him out of a decision would’ve just been begging to have your time wasted. If Jason thought his way was what Gotham needed then that was the end of the discussion on his part. You only regret what facilitated the fundamental shift in his stance of what’s “necessary” to keep people safe.

In spite of what you've said Jason’s features go back to being steeped, brows meeting and jaw clenched.

“That’s- that’s true. I know that,” you hum an affirmative and his eyes flash to yours. You haven’t seen that look in years. Like he’s sizing you up. It makes the corners of your lips quirk that you get to see it at all. “Just making sure you know where I stand.”

Your brow raises.

“Uh huh,” you nod to yourself. You have an inkling about why exactly he felt the need to jump at telling you off. “Even if he gave you a hard time about what you're doing your father does still love you, you know?”

Jason shakes his head harder this time, almost snarling.

“He’s not my damn father.”

At his tone you stiffen too. The shift feels like a punch to the gut and you can’t help but react as if the hit was real. It almost feels like it was.

Jason hadn’t exactly been smiling before but if you’d thought he was being distant then, you’ve been shown for a fool now. All that grace he was giving you is completely gone.

“…,” you look over the harsh lines of his face, the way his upper lip curls, and it makes your chest ache. The conversation went worse than you thought then. Buildings blew up all the time in Gotham, and Jason didn’t seem too banged up but- “Alright. Okay, Jason, I’m just reminding you that he works in absolutes. His anger likely isn’t at you specifically, just your methods.”

He sighs out roughly and when he straightens completely out of your hold you have to swallow back a noise of protest. “I know that, but it shouldn’t excuse him.”

He crosses his arms.

“He left me,” he forces out. You squint, confused. “I was holding out for him and he left me for that damn clown. From what I gather Joker set off the explosives I tied him up with - which wasn’t my most well thought out plan but that’s not the point. The point is when it went off he didn’t save me. Bruce took the Joker and left me for dead. Not me and that green haired freak, just me. I woke up under piles of rubble by myself.”

Your face drops, you can feel it, and Jason definitely sees it by the way his scowl reappears.

“What, you don’t believe me? It’s too hard to reconcile the man you love being the type to leave me to die?”

You hold up a finger and Jason almost (almost) cusses you out, you can see it on his face, but five years away apparently didn’t stop your glare from being more effective than his. Batglare™️ be damned you were still his mother.

“Jason, Bruce has surprised me a lot today, but I’m not gonna take that out on you cause I know better. What I am gonna ask is that you not take that tone with me; if you do it again I’m walking out this room and we can try this another day.” You huff and relax back into the neutral position you were sporting before. “I understand you’re angry and- and I honestly don’t know why you aren’t more mad at me, but if this anger is not for me don’t take it out on me. Have I made myself clear?”

He doesn’t let his head duck like he might’ve years before. No, this time he stubbornly keeps eye contact but he can’t stop how a flush climbs all the way to the tips of his ears. He sighs, shoulders dropping.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Ma.” You inexplicably soften at his words and move to grab his hand, squeezing it and using your hold to pull him back in. He squeezes back the tiniest bit and you give him a closed mouthed smile. “You're being leagues more understanding than he was.”

“Well you are killing people Jay.”

“No. No, I’ve seen him treat Dent with more compassion and he kills. He murders. I watched him pick Joker over me. How am I less deserving than that monster? That doesn’t feel like absolutes or objectivity or whatever to me.”

Even in his quietness his voice crackles along the edges. You bite the inside of your lip. That was a good question. How did Bruce make that decision? Your brows move together. Your ex, even at his most logic driven, wouldn’t let that happen. Maybe with the Joker. He’d already tried the whole ‘I won’t kill you but I won’t save you either,” thing with the villain but this? Jason was nowhere close to Joker levels of bad. You can’t-

Looking at Jason now - Jason who’s genuinely letting you process what he just dropped on you - you cannot fantom what would possess Bruce to leave Jason to be overshadowed by death again. His son. Your fucking son. You sneer, teeth grinding together.

“I want to know what happened.”

Now is when Jason chooses to come back down. His anger going once more to the foreground in the face of your own rising temper.

“Ma…you don’t-”

“I do,” you stand up straighter. Jason’s schools his expression fast, but for a split second he was giving off the distinct impression of a teenager who just got caught in a lie and can’t figure out what gave them away. So where’s the lie? “Tell me.”

Jason blows air out of his nose and cuts you a slightly exasperated glare but he does start speaking.

“I- we fought. It wasn't exactly cute, we were both going hard, but the goal was leading him to where I had the Clown strung up, so I let him get more hits in than I probably should’ve.”

Jason pauses, looking over at you. You only nod, allowing him to move at his own pace. Jason’s only slightly expanding upon information you and everybody else privy to Gotham news already knows, but you doubt over the last couple years he suddenly turned pathological. Jason only ever lied out of omission when you lived in the manor so him keeping the fine details of what went down from you now didn’t ping nicely in the back of your mind.

“I begged him to let me kill Joker - for everyone’s sake,” he admits. Voice gaining levity as if he’s telling a particularly far-fetched joke before dropping back down. “I guess I should’ve known better, but I couldn’t believe it. That he’d just let Joker roam free after what he did to me - did to the hundreds of innocent lives he’s wiped off this planet. How could Batman let that go unpunished, you know? But I figured maybe he’d been holding out cause a what pixie boots me woulda done: saved the bastard despite everything for the sake of second chances.”

Another glance to you, but you don’t stop him so Jason keeps going. Voice quiet and more present yet no less intense.

“But he’s had enough second chances. We should’ve stopped giving them out to that sack of shit years ago but we didn’t, and that’s on us, but I was giving him a chance to rectify that and let me do it for everybody. To send him off to hell right where he belongs, and you know what he did instead?”

You hold his gaze even though it hurts seeing all that anger. All that betrayal.

“He chose Joker,” you say faintly.

“Yeah,” Jason nods. The smile he gives you is acidic. “He chose Joker. And I set him up for it, but only because B wouldn’t just get it over with. He just kept giving me every excuse in the book, cause apparently that was too hard of a decision to make for me. So screw it I made him pick between the two of us. Helped his indecision along. Let me kill Joker myself or kill me to stop me from killing him, since he wanted to save that monster so damn badly.”

“Jay,” you say, deflating.

A sharp shake of his head is all you get by way of acknowledgment for the assisted suicide he nearly instigated.

“Bruce’s solution? Sl-”

Jason stops. This time when he takes you in his eyes are far away, and he refuses to meet your gaze. A few deft beats before his mouth goes slightly agape but nothing comes out.

“Jason…?”

He chuckles, brushing you off. Nothing’s funny though and when he looks back to you there’s something new in his eyes you haven’t seen yet. An expression that distinctly brings you back to a fifteen year old calling to ask if you’d been lying to him too. If you’d known about Sheila Haywood the entire time and said nothing.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” He swallows, “It’s just…at the end I got…emotional. Reckless. Turned my gun on him and he threw a batarang into…into the muzzle and it exploded in my hand. Then in the confusion I guess Joker got free and set off the bombs…and you know the rest: I’m so good I cheated death a second time,” he smiles. Something too big and with too many teeth to seem real.

“I don’t know whether I’m happy about that ‘second time’ or not,” you hold out your other hand and when he steps to take hold of it a small grin tugs at your lips. “But that’s only cause I don’t think you know either.”

You also don’t feel like he’s telling you everything, but for now this was a battle you were willing to rage another day. As long as he was safe it could wait.

Jason’s own smile shrinks to something more genuine.

“Maybe not today, Ma.”

“Yeah, I got you,” you say. “I’m tired of crying anyway.”

There is - after all - still a draft hitting your eyes that you are hopelessly ignoring the feel of. Jason grins.

“Well I’m starting to get a little faint myself so maybe you’re onto something, Old Lady.”

For a second you stop smiling, shooting him a cross look and sucking your teeth. He backs away from you to scoop up his helmet with a lighter, more real chuckle.

“Oh am I, smartass?” You turn around and knock him on the shoulder, urging him out the door while he gives an exaggerated ‘ouch!’. “See, I’ll show you old since you think you big and bad now that you can reach the top shelf.”

Despite the lighter air you’ve managed Jason only keeps laughing for as long as it takes him to reach the door. Once he opens it he freezes before he walks all the way through and turns back to you.

“I’m sorry about…everything. By the way.” Standing on the threshold with the smallest little frown on his face, he looks like a boy again and you smile at that warry frown.

Shrugging in between rows of grappling guns and prototype pellets you shake your head, rolling the stiffness from your shoulders and letting the twinge from the wound in your arm ground you.

“Don’t worry about me, I get it. If one confrontation went to absolute shit why wouldn’t the other? Trust though, with the situation at hand Bruce is my problem not you.” You point at him. “But you better call me after this.”

Jason stays looking at you silently then gives you one nod and slips that helmet right back on. Inwardly you protest the action but outwardly you content yourself with nodding back.

When he turns away and you can’t see anything but reinforced tact gear and shiny red you find your mouth opening again.

“Love you,” you call out. Just so he knows you never stopped.

His voice is soft over the modulation of the helmet when he responds with a: “Thanks Ma,” then you can’t see him anymore.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

Also, I’m thinking about going on hiatus after finishing Long Overdue to give myself a break and shit, so yeah. I’ll (probably) come back on some unspecified date in July though so it’s not like I’ll even be gone for that long. Or like most people give a shit, but whatever.

Also also, I don’t know if I hit the mark and if the feelings were feeling, you know? But I made an attempt, I think that’s commendable.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik

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maxwell-grant · 3 months

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Thoughts on the master of fear, Scarecrow? Also, fave design, he has so many good ones (second BTAS, his trading card one, mistress of fear, Gaslight,, fear for sale, the Arkham Games etc)?

Hey so, do any of you remember Batman Live? It was this really fun, extravagant stage show that touched on a lot of Batman hallmarks and was generally a really fun time as far as I recall. I went to the São Paulo premiere with my family, and I was a little too young to really recall most of it now, but some things I definitely remember like the huge Joker hot air balloon made of performers in bodypaint, or the comedy sequences in the Iceberg Lounge. The one thing that stuck with me the most was when the Scarecrow showed up. Batman goes to Arkham Asylum and the entire comedy camp tone drops dead, as he walks in and finds all these bodies in straightjackets hanging from chains, and the doors open as The Scarecrow walks towards him in stilts, summoning loud smoke eruptions that are poisoning and weakening Batman as he leers over him. That part actually did scare me as a kid, and it was probably the first time I had any kind of feelings on Scarecrow imprinted in me.

I was introduced to The Scarecrow as this uniquely horrifying villain who could terrify through presentation alone. I didn't particularly understand what the fear gas was, I was too taken with that ungainly thing up there with the stilts and all those people turned into cadaverous decorations, lurking from the endless halls of the asylum, who towered over everyone and placed Batman into a writhing breakdown with a few gestures, and never appeared again until the cast roll, completely absent from the rogues gatherings after. Granted, of course that's because the stilts prevented him from joining the fight scenes, but that helped to reinforce his mystery. He wasn't someone Batman was going to punch back, no no, the Scarecrow simply vanished as soon as he was done with disarming Batman, and you'd just have to pray for that unfathomable creep to never show up again.

And I'd say this might be part of why I've never been too big on the fear gas, in part because I was first enraptured by a version of The Scarecrow who clearly didn't need it that much, or at least, could do much more besides it. The Scarecrow is, I'd say actually one of my top 10 DC characters, half of that on the basis of his designs, but he's a character who tends to really, really struggle under a lack of cohesion and being subordinate to his gimmick, much more so than the other rogues. The fear gas is a good gimmick, but it is just that, a gimmick, and one that's usually reliant on how far can the story push the horror and the visuals to at least make it effectively scary for us, otherwise it gets incredibly boring very fast, and it's not even a gimmick exclusive to him since so many other characters have similar mind control/illusion abilities/gadgetry at hand (and to say nothing of Hugo Strange, who first used fear gas and who quite frankly kicks the Scarecrow's ass in terms of quality storylines, although Hugo does that to most of the other Batman villains too)

The Scarecrow has become the go-to character for hallucination sequences / revisiting character traumas, which frequently makes him less of a character and more so a convenient plot device, a problem heightened by the larger issue here that is his inconsistent motivation, or lack thereof. He lacks the kind of "breakout" stories that his fellow major Batman villains have had that usually cement an ongoing characterization, and his most famous/celebrated appearences in mass media don't really do much to combat the assertion that he is shallow and weak and whose only asset is the gas (namely, his boss fights in Arkham Asylum, which are all about the fear gas hallucination scares, and his role in Nolan's Batman, which is very fun, but also purposefully plays him up for ridicule and lack of depth next to the other villains)

These days, the Scarecrow is a tedious pip-squeak. His schemes lack verve, his cruelties stir little in the way of frissons. Haunted by cliché to an even greater extent than the other rogues, he’s often brought low with a single sock to the jaw delivered by Batman, or by finding himself on the receiving end of his own fear-inducing concoctions. He often acts as a pawn in the hands of bigger, badder third parties. He’s ostensibly a stand-in for the figure of the reductive, smug and hypocritical psychologist, nicely bundled up for the audience to humiliate in effigy - TheMindlessOnes's rogue review for Scarecrow

In "Nothing to Fear" it is explained that Jonathan Crane has always had this "thing" for scaring people. (Just as Snidely Whiplash had his "thing" for tying women to railroad tracks, I suppose.) But this is a wan kind of motive. One senses sadly that the real motive for the Scarecrow's behavior lies in the writer's need for someone to do something reprehensible. At the root of the matter may be a difficulty in sorting out the Scarecrow's ends from his means, with a consequent confusion between the goals the Scarecrow intends to reach and the tactics he employs in reaching them.

As a psychologist specializing in phobic disorders, Crane knows how to induce fear and trembling in his victims. But this tells us nothing about what the Scarecrow wants to accomplish. And without a sense or statement of what those goals are, the writer will be tempted to substitute means for end and make the Scarecrow's goal simply the scaring of people. Usually his actions are woefully underexplained - Dreams in Darkness' review by Toonzone

You might think that I'd be advocating for the Scarecrow, then, to disregard a need for a motivation and become as unknowable and horrific as possible, to recapture the awe I felt at his Batman Live self, but no, not at all. For one, I don't think the best version of anything is necessarily the one that made the most impact on me as a kid. Two, there have been some attempts over the years to remove Scarecrow from the toxin or seriously amp him up as a threat, and frankly, most of those have only made the character dramatically worse and more boring (I don't remember the name, but there was a Batman story a while ago where he goes on a big scary killing spree with no toxin just to prove he can and it was fucking terrible). Three, and the big one here, is that this pretty much forces you to get rid of Dr. Jonathan Crane, and I think that does a disservice to the character's potential. I think that's giving up on trying to make him work as a character and I don't think you have to do that.

My preferred characterization for Crane is one that emphasizes his nature as a scholar turned supervillain. The cold and misanthropic and neurotic nerd professor who spent most of his salary on books and took to terrorizing the city as a costumed criminal in part because he wanted money to buy more books. Who takes off the costume mid-crime spree to school his henchmen on specifics of brain chemistry, who gets revenge on those that wrong his students or even employs them as henchmen, still the same guy who thinks there's nothing wrong with firing a loaded gun in a packed classroom as a demonstration. Far less interested in human connections than he is in human reactions, things that can surprise him or that he can catalogue or research or write about. Someone who's not a sadist for sadism's sake, but who doesn't really see you as a person so much as he sees a test subject. I like Crane as a snarky humorous heel who thinks of himself as amoral and mature while doing horribly immoral and childish things, the Herbert West or Rusty Venture of Batman villains (James Urbaniak is definitely the voice I'd pick for him).

My preferred kind of motivation for him is something along the lines of how he's portrayed in most of Kings of Fear, where he puts Batman through the wringer in part as an attempt to get to him and cure him once and for all, or issues #4-5 of The Batman Adventures where he induces city-wide illiteracy in part as a protest against the city's failing education. In Gothtopia he makes all of Gotham hallucinate their perfect ideal lives, eliminating the crime rate but causing the suicide rate to spike up in return, and yes it does turn out to be the set-up for a really generic "fear gas everyone with blimps and make everyone twice as scared" pay off when his involvement is revealed, but I always thought Scarecrow being able and willing to do that, to create these huge and even benevolent-seeming social experiments, as an idea with legs. Fear State was frustratingly halfway there, with the initial set-up of Scarecrow pursuing a theory for fear-based social upheaval, but on top of not being very good, it also wound up that he was just doing the same old thing again and had Batman call him out as someone who just wanted to gas the city and make everyone scared again and never changes and does anything different, which seemed like Tynion defeating his own purpose of trying to make a defining Scarecrow story and address his lack of one, completely failing to address the why the character has that kind of problem and upending itself for meta commentary before doing anything interesting.

Even Kings of Fear, easily the best Scarecrow story of the past decades if not outright ever, kinda ends in a bit of a cop-out where The Scarecrow has to be wrong ("Even when he's telling the truth, he's lying, and even when he's right, he's wrong", Gordon tells Batman to reassure him, to nullify the past 5 issues criticizing and tearing into Batman from every angle imaginable), and he has to be a sadist who just wanted to fuck with Batman and uncover his worst fears because it's what he does. Why does Scarecrow want to unravel people and wrench their worst fears into the surface? Because he's a sadist who gets off on it? I guess that's the canon answer most of the time, but it's such a boring, weak one. Because he wants revenge on the world / bullies? Still weak, done better by other villains even. Because of an unspeakably traumatic childhood that taught him the world was ruled by fear and therefore driving him to become it's master? Okay, but it still doesn't actually answer what he wants to get out of doing what he does.

We know that Jonathan Crane was a fragile youth routinely terrorized and abused by others and plainly traumatized by his experiences. We know that he is learned and brilliant and given to introspection and fantasy.

From this base it is not hard to imagine Crane turning into a man fiercely devoted to solitude and study and capable of a murderous rage when his privacy is violated. It is possible, in other words, to imagine him as a reactive force, in the mold of Freeze, systematically terrorizing and destroying anyone who crosses him but rarely wanting to start trouble himself.

Or we can imagine him as a mercenary, a specialist hired by others for nefarious purposes, but who is not himself strongly motivated by particular rages or desires.

But if the Scarecrow is going to remain a sadist and a sadist only—if he is going to be moved only by the psychotic desire to harm others—we ought to be made to feel the seductive power that sadism has over its practitioners; we should be made to feel and appreciate the hot and sour joy that comes from the purposeful humiliation of another - Dreams in Darkness review by Toonzone

It's kind of a frustrating pattern in a lot of his stories where he gives a reason for doing something, and it turns out to be a cover for yet another sadistic fear gas attack, but his cover reason was a more interesting motivation for him than what he actually was going for. A villain who mainly just gets a kick out of hurting people and concocts bullshit excuses and reasons to justify said hurting? The Joker does that already, but the Joker always clearly states what he wants and has all those ways to make cruelty for cruelty's sake entertaining. If that's all The Scarecrow is also, no wonder he's going to be so incredibly lacking most of the time (nevermind the fact that he's never going to be the guy most infamous for gassing Gotham City).

Yes, he may be sadistic and cruel, he may enjoy what he does too much, and maybe there really isn't any kind of realistic explanation as to why a man would dress up as a scarecrow to commit terrorism and spray innocent people with chemicals to make them terrified, but refer to the guy he's fighting. "Realistic" is the wrong term. The issue here is less "why" the Scarecrow does what he does, and more what is he hoping to get out of it. Granted, this is less of a concern if you're playing The Scarecrow as a figure of horror, someone who's not even really human underneath that outfit. But I think that locks away much of his versatility. The Scarecrow needs Jonathan Crane, and I think there's good stuff to like about that awful man.

I like Jonathan Crane the sardonic pragmatic scientist who still embraces his hopelessly ridiculous life, a guy who's not nearly as above it all as he'd like to be and has wants and needs moreso than he really likes to admit. I like him as a book lover, as a fan of horror, I like him as the kind of guy who'd send fan mail to Elvira and break out of Arkham just to catch a Halloween parade and guest star in a Scooby-Doo movie for a change. I like him as someone who'd have a decent working relationship with the other rogues and pal with the Legion of Doom and get into a physical spat with Riddler over a chess game. Someone who custom-makes his own outfits and equipment, who makes scythes out of animal bones to fight Batman with, who picked the scarecrow motif in part because it was a term of derision his colleagues used on him.

Who pours himself over his research as he records his theories in a tape recorder, the kind of guy who grouses at having to clean another cell because he's getting annoyed at his test subjects killing themselves, seriously guys the cleaning supplies for this batch were as fresh as they could be, and the iguana amygdalas I used should be stopping your neocortexes from overreacting this strongly. Subject #3 over there got over his fear of centipedes yesterday and he hasn't screamed all morning, I'm gonna need the rest of you to stop being such babies, okay?

It must be terribly liberating for Crane, to transcend mere ugliness and become inhuman. Of all the rogues, he’s easily the one who takes Batman’s “I need a disguise; I shall become a beast of the night” schtick and runs with it the farthest - TheMindlessOnes's rogue review for Scarecrow

And that's for Jonathan Crane, man of science. The Scarecrow, however, is not science, he is unreason incarnate, and to me what most makes The Scarecrow work as a Batman villain has nothing to do with "they both use fear as a weapon", I always thought that was a bit shallow of an angle to pursue (most, if not all, the villains rely on fear, it comes with the whole "crime" thing). The two have a stronger connection via the costume, the theatricality, the becoming a creature of the night angle. None of the other major Batman villains are going into their costumes the way The Scarecrow is. They have their personas and varying degrees of division between them and their "real selves", but few of them are wearing outright identity-separating Halloween Monster Costumes with separate names and personalities they can dip in and out of at their convenience.

And I'm gonna interrupt myself to answer your second question. I couldn't pick just one design, so counting the Batman Live one above, I picked 10. These are not in order and they're not necessarily how I'd design him, I'd say my actual favorite Scarecrow designs are fan-made, but if I was going to pick out of "official" material these are the ones I'd go for. It's time for:

(Left-to-right: George Pratt's Scarecrow pin-up, Phil Jimenez's Scarecrow design, Ed Natividad's concept art for Suicide Squad)

(Left-to-right: His TNBA design by Bruce Timm as drawn by Luciano Vecchio, Alex Ross's design for Justice, and Tim Sale's Scarecrow)

(Left-to-right: Kelley Jones' design for Kings of Fear, Jeremy Raapack's design for Legends of the Dark Knight #25, Scarecrow's design in Happy Halloween, Scooby-Doo!)

*cough*, anyway: Most of the other rogues with their signature suits or masks or body distortions don't tend to have closets full of different variant Batsuits and scarecrow costumes to choose and devote to their cause and ideal, that they sit at night tailoring on how to make scarier or more loaded with weapons, that they might even have conversations with, things that sit in their closets waiting because both of these brilliant men, men who have (or at least had) different civilian lives, men who could stop doing this at any time, who both decided that becoming a Halloween monster prowling the streets to inflict terror is a necessary, even productive use of their time.

And I think that's the key word I want to end here, productive. I think The Scarecrow needs to be more productive. Because even if he's not aware of it, he is achieving progress via his research, and there is one way he's proved his ideas: Batman walks out of every fight they have stronger. Every encounter they have is a test that Batman resists and walks out of more able to cope with his own traumas, or at least, better able to resist them being weaponized against him. I always wanted to explore the idea that Crane is genuinely convinced he's doing people a favor or at least achieving something via all these horrible Scarecrow campaigns, and one thing he has achieved is that Batman is never not prepared for chemical attacks or assaults on his mind, Batman resists ungodly trials of willpower and determination and courage, in part because he has to deal with the Scarecrow pumping terror juice in his brain semi-regularly.

The fact that Crane loses and gets beaten up and has to retry schemes again and again and kill people and join the costume parade just to lure Batman is fairly inconsequential to him, so long as it gets results. He's not interested in dissecting Batman's brain or being more like Batman, that's Hugo Strange's thing. Hugo Strange needs Batman to be fearless, allmighty and perfect, where as Jonathan Crane wants nothing more than to unearth and study the fears and kinks in the armor, the dead last thing he wants is a perfect man. Hugo Strange wants to crawl naked into the mask of the great and terrible fascist and never come out, where as The Scarecrow wants to crack open all the masks in the world and feast luridly on whatever seeps out.

Batman isn't just the ultimate trial against his fear-ruled worldview (or even affirmation), and he isn't just a breakthrough waiting to happen: he might be his greatest success as of yet. A case study on the success of exposure therapy, proof of potential medicinal applications for his formula, the greatest guinea pig of all time because he won't die no matter what you pump into him, you name it. So what if all those other people couldn't stomach the procedure, so what if those precious innocents are too weak and stupid and useless to not get in the way of research, it's clearly worked wonders for those who could take it.

And if the future belongs to men like Batman, if all of these superheroes and supervillains are the way things are going to be like forever, if the future is Bat-shaped and as vast and uncertain and horrible as the forces shaping it, the future needs to be prepared. The future needs to grapple with it's past and face it's greatest horrors and become stronger for it. There is no such thing as overcoming fear, there is only living with it, embracing it, bowing to the primordial instinct that knows the answer before you do. Mankind grew and developed it's intelligence and tools out of fear, fear of the bigger predators out there, fear of the other cavemen, fear of starvation and death and everything they couldn't understand and master until they learned to fear it. What better knowledge to pass along than fear? And who is better qualified to teach about fear?

Maybe Crane isn't just another monster with a grudge, maybe he isn't another costumed revenge killer, maybe he isn't just a power-tripping sadist bully out to torment others because he can, and maybe he isn't a hopeless traumatized madman who destroyed his professional and personal life in a monstrous quest to satisfy an obsession ruling his soul.

Maybe he is a sane response to an insane situation. Ever heard that one before?

#replies tag #superheroes #batman #dc comics #scarecrow #the scarecrow #jonathan crane #gotham city

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