#tim: *actively dead on the ground*
Text
He could already see how that conversation would go over. Danny would go ‘hey, sorry me and my parents killed one of your adopted wards, twas an accident really, some twat of an investor turned on the ecto-collider while he was standing in it and Timothy got fried with enough radiation to mutate a steak back into the cow. Oopsies.’
And then Bruce mcFucking Wayne would throw him in Blackgate for murder before Danny got the chance to explain that hey, no, the guy isn’t dead, the Fentons just accidentally turned another teenager into a half dead abomination yippee. Pack it up cause the government absolutely loved the concept of debating if it was vivisection or dissection when cutting open a halfa. Mr. Wayne was pretty wealthy though so maybe Tim wasn’t gonna have to worry about the finer definitions on vivi vs dissect? Rich people paid off the government all the time, there was a reason why people like Vlad and Lex Luthor got away with so much bullshit.
He prodded the body with a foot. Tim did not so much as twitch.
There was the slow pulse of a core though, slower than the mock heartbeat that Danny’s core liked to hover at, and Tim did appear to be breathing- as much as a half dead person could- so Danny wasn’t too concerned about the unconsciousness quite yet. Once Mom was back with the Ecto-Dejecto then they could stick Tim and he’d be about as right as acid rain. Minus the whole,, traumatizing death and all that.
#fanfic#wip hell#tim: *actively dead on the ground*#danny: awe shit i killed the majority shareholder of we#danny fenton#danny phantom#tim drake#dc comics#dc x dp#dpxdc#halfa!tim drake#imagine you go in for work and come out of work irrevocably changed forever#dead tired
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Does anyone else picture Jonny's headless body running around trying to find his head during Teatime With The Kaiser or is that just me because personally I think it's hilarious
#jonny's head bouncing around on the ground chomping at anything while ts shoots away merrily and as tim runs towards the canon you can see-#-the rest of jonny running around completely lost.#does jonny have any control over it? and if he does is he even actively trying to get his head back on?#also like. imagine the trio piled up in the lifepod like this.#ts covered in blood grinning. jonny holding his head to it's neck stump. tim blind and either passed out/dead or wishing he was#sitcom “funny not funny” vibes#jonny d'ville#the mechanisms
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Like Betta Fish Do Part 27
Wc:3213 Masterpost
CW: Hospitalization, discussions of temporary character deaths
The hospital was pure chaos. Reporters were at the door, police were at the reporters to stay back, and the Waynes were pacing.
None of them had wanted to be left behind, not with this, so as soon as those who had been playing hero changed, they all headed for the hospital. Bruce had met them in a waiting room that had been cleared out for their use. There were benefits to having a wing named after one’s father.
“Clear,” Babs said as she and Tim finished typing on the tablets that they had brought from WE. “CTV cameras will just loop past this room.”
“There are no bugs. I’ve activated scramblers for parabolic mics or anything, not that they should be able to get to us in here anyways,” Tim said.
“What happened?” Steph asked, looking to Bruce.
Bruce looked to Dick. The rest of the eyes followed.
Dick sighed.
“It’s not my secret to tell.”
“I believe we are past that, Richard,” Damian snapped.
“Why don’t you start with a debrief of tonight,” Bruce coached.
“I was almost in suit when Babs came over the comms, telling us they took Danny. I started to look for suspicious vehicles given the time frame. I wasn’t successful at spotting anything before the…” Dick was really glad that Jason was back with Danny and not here listening to this. “…before the trap went off. I saw one of the buildings go dark.
"Cass joined me. We took out the henchmen at the van and leading into the building. Based on intel, I headed straight for the basement. The place was flooded an inch or two deep. They broke the sprinkler valve, I believe. Danny was tied to a metal chair bolted in the middle of the room. A wire had been tapped into the circuit breaker and was at Danny’s feet. His shoes were off.”
Dick swallowed hard and let his arms drop to his side. That urge to punch something was still there. He flexed his hands and then purposefully relaxed them.
“I was sure he was dead, but when I called out his name he moved. I made sure the circuit breaker was off, disconnected the wire, and went to him. He was…” Dick snorted, shaking his head. “He was making jokes. He was conscious but not fully lucid. Confusion, slurred words, panic. He didn’t want to be taken to the hospital. He thought they would cut him open if ‘they knew’. I was able to convince him to come by saying we’d get Leslie and that we’d protect him.”
Damian scoffed. “Of course we will.”
“Case?” Cass signed, face scrunched up in question.
“And asked Alfred to bring a case, one that Jason put in the Cave that Danny gave him,” Dick confirmed.
“What’s in it?” Tim asked.
Dick just shook his head.
“He’s a Meta, isn’t he?” Duke asked. The question was quiet, but it felt loud in the tense air of the waiting room. He wasn’t staring at the ground rather than any of them. “Something new. Maybe something dangerous or, worse, something useful. It’s why he’s afraid they’ll cut him open.”
Steph cussed and turned to punch the wall only to be stopped by Tim.
“Is he?” Tim asked.
It seemed like there was no getting out of this question. “’Close enough’ was the way it was put when I stumbled in on… the secret.”
“Are his powers electricity based?” Babs asked. “Is that how he survived?”
Dick laughed. The bitter sound made a few of the others flinch or grimace.
“No, opposite, really. He’s weak to it. I think they only got him because they used tasers and it really knocks him out.” I’m so sorry, Danny, Dick thought. “Danny… Danny’s been electrocuted before when he was a kid. It killed him, however briefly. Really… I’m not sure if it didn’t actually kill him again tonight.”
This time Tim didn’t stop Stephanie from punching the wall.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Dr. Thompkins said as she peeled off her gloves.
Danny just glared at the IV in his hand that had been carefully tapped down and put under a mesh glove.
“It’s like she doesn’t trust me,” Danny whispered loudly to Jason.
“She’s right not to,” Jason said.
Danny pouted at him.
“Fish,” Jason said with a wet chuckle. He ran his hand through Danny’s hair again, which seemed to soothe him. “You said loudly and repeatedly that you were going to go out the window as soon as she stopped watching you or if she took your blood or if she put the IV in.”
“She did take it,” Danny whined.
“I did,” Leslie said, “and I also promised you no one else would get a hold of your blood and I meant it. I need a baseline for you though. It’s my job now to make sure that you’re well.”
“And no clones,” Danny said.
“And no clones,” Leslie said.
She shot Jason a look who just shrugged helplessly. He didn’t know enough about what went down with that to answer her questions.
Leslie gave up with a sigh. “You really went and found someone who fit right in with the family craziness I see.”
“Nah, Doc, he goes above and beyond.”
“Well… that should make for an interesting file.”
Danny flinched at that, hard enough for Leslie to notice and stop what she was doing.
“Danny, listen to me,” Leslie said. She waited until Danny met her eyes to continue. “No one else will see the file. It’s encrypted by Oracle, Batman’s tech person, and that’s understating them. I need to keep a file so that I can treat you and keep you healthy, that’s all.”
“No experiments,” Danny croaked.
Jason wanted to punch someone again.
“No experiments,” Leslie promised.
Danny gave a little nod, turned away from her, and all but climbed into Jason’s lap.
“Make sure he doesn’t pull that IV out,” Leslie ordered and went back to making her notes.
Not long after Jason had gotten him and Danny settled into the hospital bed, there was a knock at the door. Jason’s hand went immediately to the scalpel that Leslie had generously pretended not to notice Jason palming earlier. It didn’t matter that it was a knock Jason recognized, he wasn’t taking any chances with Danny right then.
Jason only relaxed when Dick had stepped fully through the door alone.
“Hey Danny, how are you doing?”
“Leslie took my blood.”
“Yeah, she does that,” Dick said. He was smiling, words cheerful, but Jason could see the cracks in his brother’s facade. “Alfred is going to be here in just a moment with the case. Can I send him in when he arrives? Or I can bring it myself? Or any of us. We’re all out there.”
Danny turned his head enough to be able to peer at Dick with one eye. “You’re worried.”
“Yeah, little fish, we’re all pretty worried. We care about you,” Dick said gently.
Jason resisted the urge to kiss Danny’s pout away as he shifted his gaze from Dick to Leslie.
“Can they come in?” Danny asked.
Leslie pursed her lips. “Only for a half hour. After that, it’s only Jason and one other allowed at a time and that’s only because I want Jason to try to get some rest too. Whoever else is in here is on a minimum two hour shift so not to wake you up every five minutes.”
“Yes ma’am,” Dick chirped.
“And tell them to keep it calm,” Leslie called after Dick as he slipped back out the door. She sighed and shook her head before focusing back on Danny. “Now, there will be nurses who come in.”
“Noooo,” Danny whined.
“Yes,” Leslie said. “They’ll just be taking your blood pressure, which they’ll know to expect to be low, and changing out your saline and pain medication. I’ll be back in the morning myself to check on your burns. Everyone who steps foot in this room will be approved by Bruce and I. Someone from the family will be with you the whole time, you’ll be safe in every way.”
Danny’s pout deepened before he sighed heavily and seemed to deflate. “Fine.”
“Thank you, Danny. Now please try to rest after the group leaves, both of you.”
“Sure, Doc,” Jason answered and sent her a smile. He’d have to do something to help her clinic out soon, she really went above and beyond for them tonight. He managed to get Danny turned around so that his boyfriend wasn’t buried face first into his pecs before his family invaded.
It seemed like everyone was really trying to listen to Leslie and they all filed in orderly and tucked themselves onto the couch and chairs and each other. Bruce and Alfred stayed standing.
“Hi guys,” Danny said with a wobbly smile.
Some of the family flinched at how ruined Danny’s voice sounded. The flinches weren’t obvious to be noticed by anyone by a Bat, except maybe for Duke’s, but they still happened and Jason noticed. They all looked wrecked, really, in various ways. One would almost think they had been the ones kidnapped and murdered tonight.
It was Jason’s turn to flinch at his own thoughts. Greedily, he soothed himself by pressing a kiss to Danny’s temple.
“Hi Danny,” Duke said back. “How are you?”
“You know, feeling a little extra crispy,” he joked.
The room seemed to lose all the air for a moment before Tim groaned. “God, there are two of them now. No wonder you’re dating Jason, you have the same morbid sense of humor.”
The tension in the room broke and Barbie even laughed. (They all ignored how the laugh was a little too tinged with hysteria to be truly happy.)
Alfred cleared his throat and stepped forward. “The case, Master Jason.”
“Ooh, is that…” Danny asked, zeroing in on the case.
“Yep,” Jason confirmed, popping the ‘p’.
Danny held out his arms, making grabby hands at the case. Alfred raised a brow, looking to Jason for permission, before he moved forward and handed over the case. Jason rested his hand on the lid before Danny could open it.
“So,” Jason started. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “no one freak out, okay? What’s in the case isn’t what it looks like. And… and we’ll explain?”
He wasn’t sure if they would.
He wasn’t sure if they could afford not to.
“We’ll explain,” Danny confirmed.
“Okay, Jay-lad,” Bruce agreed, though Jason could tell he didn’t know what he was agreeing to, other than trusting his son.
Jason took a breath and removed his hand. Danny flipped the lid open. It was innocuous at first, a simple black padded case. Then Danny plucked out one of the glowing, Lazarus green ectoshots and the stances of several Bats shifted.
“That is—” Damian started.
“Nope,” Jason interrupted.
“Jay—” Bruce rumbled.
“I’m sure,” Jason said. He glanced at Cass. “Really.”
“What are you going to do with it?” Tim asked, sounding a little strangled.
“Drink it,” Danny answered.
“Drink it?!”
Danny’s nose wrinkled. “Does everyone in this room have issues with that— what did you call it— Pit water?”
“Pit water or Lazarus water,” Jason said. He calmly ran his fingers through Danny’s hair as he made sure to not have a reaction to the ectoshots. Danny needed to drink them, he couldn’t have any of it spilled from misplaced panic. “And a lot of us, yeah. It’s… been a thing. My situation didn’t help any.”
Tim frowned at the vial, clearly itching to get his hands on it. “If that’s not Lazarus water, what is it?”
“Ectoplasm,” Danny sing songed and then just downed the vial to the wince of the room. A shudder ran through his body before he slumped bonelessly against Jason.
Jason plucked the empty vial from Danny’s limp fingers, pressed a kiss to his temple, and put it back in the case. “From best we can think without getting our hands on Lazarus water, they’re a bit related, but ectoplasm is a pure source where as whatever Lazarus water is, it’s fucked up. Beyond that, I think…”
Jason sighed and buried his face in the top of Danny’s head. He didn’t know how to explain the next part to his family. He didn’t know how to tell them he was still, at least a little, dead. He didn’t want to hurt them like that.
“Ectoplasm isn’t a miracle cure, not like it sounds they use Lazarus water for,” Danny said around a jaw cracking yawn. “Doesn’t work for normal people.”
“Does it work for you because you’re a meta?” Duke asked. The sympathy in his voice was hard to hear.
Danny’s laugh wasn’t any easier to hear. “Nope! I mean, like, sure how you count Superman as a meta I’m a meta, I guess. More a different species.”
Steph made an incredulous noise. “You’re an alien?”
“I wish,” Danny snickered. “I’m dead.”
“That is not funny, Nightingale,” Damian snapped.
Jason peered up at his bristling little brother. Demon brat really was already attached to Danny. “He’s not trying to be funny, Dami. Danny is half dead or, rather, half ghost.”
“Okay, which of your parents fucked a ghost?”
“Miss Stephanie,” Alfred chastised.
“Sorry Alfie,” Stephanie mumbled under Danny’s snickering.
At least having almost died (again) tonight saved Danny from being admonished too.
“Ancient, no, my parents hate ghosts,” Danny said.
“But you’re half ghost,” Babs pointed out, gently.
“Yeah. And there’s a reason that I changed my last name and don’t talk to them anymore, not that they know,” Danny said. He stretched out his arms, arching like a cat. Clearly the ectoshot was starting to have an effect. “No, I’m half dead ‘cause I died and then didn’t.”
“You’ve died before, Danny?” Bruce asked, voice carefully gentle in that way he used only when talking to his kids or those who were basically family through his kids.
“Yeah,” Danny sighed. “It was, um, don’t like talking about it. It’s a ghost thing. But my parents built a portal to the ghost’s realm to try and study them. It didn’t work, not at first. I stepped in it, tripped, hit the on button and bam… ten thousand volts of electricity later and I’m dead.”
Tim and Cass both reached out to stop Steph from moving.
“Thing is, the portal turned on,” Danny continued. “So I also got pure ectoplasm shot right through me. It brought me back, kinda. I’m a halfa; half ghost and half human. Half dead and half alive.”
“You’ve died by electricity before,” Bruce said into the silence of the room.
“Probably died again to it tonight,” Danny said with a casualness that had Jason tightening his arms around Danny. Danny just giggled. “But like I told Dick, I’m immune now.”
“You know,” Barbie said. She narrowed her eyes as Danny shrugged before she glanced to Dick. “And you knew.”
Dick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Little wing?”
“Go ahead, Dick. I’m pretty sure you’ve connected all the dots now,” Jason said. Maybe it would be easier, no, smoother if Dick explained it. He was better at hiding his anger.
Though by the way Dick had to shift on his feet, maybe not. “I… I think I have. Then you’re…?”
Jason nodded.
“Fuck!” Dick twisted and paced to the door and back again.
“Master Richard!”
“Don’t be so harsh, Alfie,” Jason said. He couldn’t make Dick be the one to tell them; that had been a selfish hope. “Dick just put two and two together that if the ectoshots only help Danny because he’s dead—”
“Part dead,” Danny chimed in brightly.
“—then that means I’m still part dead too.”
“Jay-lad?” Bruce prompted after a tense moment, voice rough.
Jason just smiled sadly. “The Pits healed me. It sorta… filled in the cracks, but it couldn’t fix that whatever brought me back didn’t bring all of me back… or couldn’t bring all of me back. I think that’s part of why the Pits had such a hold on me. Not that it’s an excuse, but just… whatever. Point is, I’m a halfa too, even if I’m still healing enough to be a proper one.”
The family practically curled around each other in grief. Dick tucked Damian against his side. Tim slumped into Steph and Cass. Steph reached out to squeeze Bab’s hand. Bruce took an aborted step towards them. Even Alfred raised a hand to his mouth.
“I’m alright,” Jason assured them.
“You’re still dead!” Dick snapped.
“I’m half alive, that’s more than I was before,” Jason pointed out.
Dick hunched into himself at that, prompting Damian to give Dick an awkward looking hug.
“What all does that mean, being a halfa?” Bruce asked. He held up a hand as he paused and took a measured breath. “I don’t mean that as an interrogation. Right now, what’s important for us to know to make sure you’re both healthy? Or is there anything that we should avoid doing?”
Jason snorted. He appreciated the clarification, the attempt at being gentle, he did, but, “I know you want to know more than that.”
Bruce smiled, though the expression was more mocking himself than anything. “Of course I do. You know me, chum, I don’t do good with only pieces of information, but right now I’m not the important one. I can deal with some… unease so that we can focus on you and Danny.”
“Danny should drink at least another ectoshot in a bit. They help us heal as halfas. Dick knows because there was an incident where I got stabbed. Danny sensed my distress and showed up to give me an ectoshot. I had called Dick already. Which means Danny also knows about everything.”
“Danny sensed your distress?” Tim asked.
“It’s a ghost thing,” Jason said with a shrug, unsure how to really explain it. “It comes from ghosts having cores which are sort of their central organ.”
“You core?” Cass asked, clearly struggling to verbalize right then with how her nose wrinkled.
“I do. Or, I’m getting more of one. Because the Pits put me back together badly I was really messed up.”
“It’s coming in well,” Danny said sleepily. He yawned wildly (a little too widely) and turned to bury his face into Jason’s chest. “Pretty lava core too. It’s good to have close for healing. It’s warm and lovely.”
Jason snorted and kissed the top of Danny’s head. “Go to sleep if you can. You’ll need lots of rest.”
Danny huffed a mumbled protest, but Jason could tell that Danny was fading fast.
“We’ll talk more later, Jay-lad,” Bruce said as he finally let himself come close to help Danny and Jason better settle into the hospital bed to sleep.
“Yeah,” Jason said as he fought his own yawn as the head of the bed lowered. “Have to have Danny show you his ghost form, it’s really something.”
Tim echoed ‘ghost form’ quietly in the background as Alfred murmured something to the group.
“Do you want myself or Dick here for the first shift?” Bruce asked.
“Stay?” Jason asked. His eyes dropped closed as his dad ran a hand through his hair.
“Always.”
---
AN: a very tired taaaaaada. They got the bulk of the explanation! Though still things to learn and talk about. I was going to put in more bits, but this felt full the way it was! Next chapter more answers, more questions, and someone shows up.
I no longer tag people but you can subscribe on the masterpost.
576 notes
·
View notes
Text
Brotherly Love. D.W J.T
Damian Al-Ghul/Wayne × platonic!twin!reader!
Gender Neutral
This is roughly based on the film "Son of Batman", it just includes the other batbros that were not in the film, and the reader does not know Jason.
Brotherly Love Masterlist <- right here
Warnings:mentions of death/assassins/scars/insecurity
Summary: You and your twin brother go to live with your father after your grandfather's death, but time at Wayne Manor brings soon jeopardizes your relationship.
There is probably some grammatical errors.
~☆~
Tragedy had struck your family, when Deathstroke rained an army upon your home, killing hundreds of your families men, including your uncle, and grandfather. Your mother had hurriedly taken you and your brother Damian away from your home, guiding you to America where you would meet your father for the first time.
A tight feeling had bubbled up in your chest, perhaps it was from you grieving your grandfather, or the sadness from leaving your home, maybe- just maybe it was nervousness from getting to finally meet your father. Your fists tightened as you thought about what was happening, Damian who was sitting next to you took notice immediately, and moved to rest one of his hands upon your own, the contact brought you out of your daze, and you turned to look at Damian who was starting dead ahead.
Damian, your beloved twin brother, whom you loved very deeply. He was your anchor for when the days got too tough, you were a trained assassin you were meant to be cold, but alas you were still a child, and he was too.
Sometimes when the two of you were younger you would sneak out of your respective rooms and get into the other's bed, Talia pretend not to notice, and would never dare to speak a word about it. You and Damian would always read books in his room when you both had time away from training, you'd huddle together as one of you voiced what was happening in the books you read, and eventually whichever one of you was being read to would fall asleep upon the other, the one that was reading doing the same not too long after.
On the nights that Ra's would allow dessert to be served after dinner Damian would give you whatever treat was given to him, he was never one for sweets. Every once and a while the pair of you would venture down to the village or around the Al-Ghul grounds, and talk about anything and everything.
You were brought back out of your thoughts as Talia announced that you had arrived in Gotham, she had told you and Damian to wait whilst she retrieved your father.
Talia had come back with a man, dressed in all black, he had a cape and a mask, he was muscular, not too tall and not too short. You and Damian stood side by side as your mother attempted to flirt with him before breaking the news of Ra's Al-Ghul's death, and how the assassins that killed him would more likely come back. Talia then brought back the curtain that you and Damian hid behind, and finally told him that you were his children.
~☆~
Bruce had tried to bond with the two of you at first, you and Bruce would go out to eat and go shopping, whilst Damian would spend time in the Batcave and accompany Bruce to work. When you had the time you and Damian would still huddle up in the giant library and read to each other at night.
~☆~
After some time Bruce eventually had to stop going on your outings together, too busy as Batman and as a businessman. Instead of Bruce, you started going out with Alfred to visit the shops, before you knew it Damian had become Robin and started going out with Bruce into the night and wouldn't arrive back at the Manor until early morning. A downside to being Robin meant that Damian kept sadly turning down your attempts to hang out, instead he spent even more time in the Batcave either training or doing research. You had already attempted to ask Tim to hangout but he was too busy with Wayne enterprises plus keeping up with his own nighly activities as Red Robin, you also knew there would be no reason to call Dick he was all the way in Blüdhaven also to invested in his own police duties and his Nightwing persona, Jason, whom you hadn't met yet was also off of the table, he and Bruce had to many disagreements between the two of them. So instead you settled for either being alone reading one of the thousand books in the library or helping Alfred with household things, and he was more than happy to spend time with you.
After many futile attempts at trying to get Damian to spend time with you he started to get agitated, telling you to just leave him alone for the night, one night he finally had enough and snapped. It was an hour before Batman and Robin would go out for patrol, dinner had finished not to long before, you stayed back to help Alfred clean up, Damian went with Bruce to go set up things for when they leave, it had been weeks since you had some one on one time with Damian so you went down to the batcave to ask him to read, or really to do anything.
You walked down the stairs that led to the batcave, Damian was taking care of his weapons and Bruce was looking at the computer, you creeped up next to Damian and watched as he polished the baterang's. Of course Damian had seen you, he was an assassin he always knew what was happening around him, he let a sigh come out from his nose, and shifted his weight to the foot that was farthest from you as an attempt to distance himself from you.
"What do you want (Y/N)?" He questioned, finally breaking the silence that had been in the batcave. "I just wanted to see if you would like to join me for an activity, we can do whatever you like." You confessed, hopeful that he would say yes.
Damian set down the baterang he was holding and threw his head back in annoyance.
"Damian has to get ready for patrol (Y/N)." Bruce butted in as he sensed Damians change in attitude, turning around in the chair that he sat in he watched as you glanced at him before looking back at Damian, then back to him.
"But that's in and hour, I just wanted to borrow hi-" You tried to reason before being interrupted by an angry looking Damian. "(Y/N) WILL YOU EVER LEAVE ME ALONE, IM BUSY!" He yelled out at you, your eyebrows knit together as you stared at him, never had he ever yelled at you, let alone been angry at you. Bruce had jumped up from his seat and began walking to you guys to make sure nothing else happens between you.
You had started to back away from Damian, still staring at him with shock on your face, Damians still portraying anger as he stared back. You kept backing up until your feet hit the stairs, as they touched the stairs you turned and fled back up to the Manor, running past Alfred who was bringing tea to Bruce and Damian, all the way until you reached your room. You climbed into bed, curling up under the blankets, your mind was going a million miles per hour, Damian had never been mad at you, were you really that annoying? You just wanted to spend time with him like you've done all your life, was that anxious feeling you had before your arrival to Gotham, some sort of prediction?
Apparently sometime during your heartbroken breakdown you must have passed out, cause you awoke to a knock on the door, you sighed as you got up to answer it, hoping that it would be Damian trying to apologize, as you reached the door and opened it you were met with alfred.
"I've brung you some cookies Mx.(Y/N)." He said as he held put a tray, you grabbed them out of his hands and muttered out a "thank you".
"I do not know what happened, but I am here if you need to talk." He told you, hoping that you weren't as emotionally constipated as the rest of this family, you observed the older man's face, looking for any sign to show that he was lying, but his face held sincerity.
"Damian-" you started, but ended up cutting yourself off. "-yelled at me, he's never done that before." You confessed in a whisper, a little embarrassed that this is what has gotten you so worked up. "Would you like me to talk to him?" The brit questioned, ready to stand up for you.
"No, it's okay Alfred." You rushed out, Damian should apologize on his own terms, once he realized what he did.
"Thanks for the cookies, Alfred." You sighed before whispering out a "goodnight" and closing the door.
~☆~
A week later and Damian has yet still not apologized, you had avoided him the entire week as well, and he didn't seem to care. Tim had come by to talk to Bruce and asked if you wanted to go hangout before he left, you told him no, the insecurity of being annoying clouding your mind. Bruce had even come up to your room, and explained that Damian was just "frustrated from working", Bruce even invited you to go out and eat with him like you did when you first arrived, you soon turned him down. Alfred too made attempts to spend time with you, inviting you to cook or garden with him, but all you wanted was to be with your brother.
~☆~
This went on for a whole month, you avoiding Damian, and him not even trying to apologize to you. You had eventually left your room to eat with the family again, and would sit in the library or garden reading a book. You had hoped that your mother would come back to you, and take you back home, praying that she had gotten her revenge for Ra's and killed Deathstroke already, you've waited, and waited, and waited, but she still hasn't come back yet, there was no trace of her. You weren't worried that anything had happened to her, she was the child of Ra's Al-Ghul, The Demons Head, he'd been alive for over 500 years, he trained your mother, of course she was fine, you just wished she would come and see you upset, and try to help.
~☆~
After a month and a half since you last talked to Damian, you walked down the dark stairs of the enormous Wayne Manor, heading towards the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea, upon your arrival you grabbed a mug, then put a kettle on the stove. The kettle whistled to announce that the water was done boiling, you place a tea bag into your mug before pouring the water on top, you grabbed your personal likings of sugar and cream to put in it(im southern i literally only put sugar in mine.) , and grabbed a spoon to stir it all together. Once your tea was done you picked up your mug and made your way to the library, on your way there you passed the dining room and seen Alfred sitting with a man, he had black hair with a white streak in the front, a scar running across the side of his face, he was muscular, and wearing a black leather jacket, and black jeans, you caught sight of his eyes, something in them looked familiar, kind of like that mystical green hugh that the Lazarus pit gave your grandfather. Maybe you were going crazy, you've never seen this man in your life, you would know if he had access to the Lazarus pit, you shook your head to get rid of any curious thoughts you had, before glancing at the mysterious man one last time and heading to the library.
There will be a part two to this, maybe even a part three, I hope you enjoyed!
(Part two has been posted!)
#x reader#bruce wayne#batman#bat family#batboys#batbros#batfam#batfamily#batkids#batman family#the batfamily#batsis!reader#batboys x batsis#batsiblings#damian wayne x batsis#batfam x batsis#jason todd#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x reader#tim drake x reader#damian wayne#damian wayne x reader#damian al ghul#gender neutral reader#x gn reader#batdad
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐀 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥
Batfamily x Reader || Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Summary: Jason may be rough around the edges, but he goes through hell to gather everyone you love for a very special day.
Credits: Music belongs to Khloe Rose, I changed the lyrics a bit to match the theme. Photos aren't mine, unfortunately I forgot to check the owners of it.
༶•┈┈⛧┈♛
5 whole years.
1825 days since he laid his eyes on you, the most beautiful girl he's every known. His girlfriend, his soon to be fiance.
Jason thought to the first time he met you, a complete accident, you weren't even suppose to be there. But there you are buying recipes to a pesto pasta you love making when a group of Black Mask's gang decided to rob the grocery store you were in. Jason was tracking the gang for a while, for territory reason, and saw the hostages.
He decided to attack.
He killed 6 of the men.
Jason found you crouched down at the milk aisle covered in blood, in front of you was one of the gang members, he guesses the 7th member dead on the ground.
"I-It was an accident" You whispered shakily, "He was going to attack me"
"Don't worry about it sweetheart" Jason says, his voice activator on, "He's a bad man. He doesn't deserve to live"
The next time he saw you was when he finally returned home to the Manor after many months of anger and anguish against his adopted father. You were standing there emotionless, you were going through a moment, you were missing your parents as they just dropped you off at Bruce's whilst revealing he's your biological father.
Jason placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair. "You'll get used to it. You're a Wayne now. You gotta act like it"
You started to see him differently, not a sister-brother kind, but a more romantic side.
It was the gala when you officially started dating. You were wondering the hallway when you bumped into Jason, Bruce was going to introduce him back to the family while you are going to be known as his biological daughter. Jason was having a panic attack, guilt slowly eating him with how he treated his family when you kissed him.
"I'm sorry" You said, "You wouldn't calm down"
"Don't ever say sorry" he whispers against your lips as he presses them back to yours.
And now 5 years later, a lot of kisses and makeouts, dancing in the halls of the manor. Jason knew you were the one and he was ready.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Jason flew to your hometown where you grew up, he asks threaten Tim to give him the address where you used to live. He knocks on the door and your mom answered the door. Your mom loves Jason and she would remind you everyday you guys talk to each other. Jason takes out the small red box revealing the ring inside, a custom ring that you always talked about when you get engaged, it was beautiful.
His next stop was your friends, childhood friends, school friends which ever he found. Jason told them about his plan, which was to fly them to Gotham to surprise you. You have been telling him how much you missed them.
Jason flew back with his heart full, his next plan was to prepare. You didn't want a big engagement, a simple yet thoughtful one was the one you like. So he decided to do it in the backyard of the Manor, in the beautiful garden that Alfred works so hard.
He (finally) asks his brothers and sisters for help.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
The day of the engagement was perfect, the sun was shining, not too hot for you to sweat and not too cold for you to have a sweater on. Stephanie, Cass and Barbara took you out to do your nails, god forbid they let you get engage with plain nails. While Jason and the boys went to get the backyard ready.
"I can't believe today is the day" Dick comments while carrying boxes. "Are you excited?"
"Of course I am" Jason grumbles, "Are you sure this is the color she likes?"
The colors consist of beige and while.
"Trust me Jay" Tim grins, "She's been playing sims lately and she's been decorating with these colors"
"She always plays sims" Damian mutters as he passes by.
Once the decorations are up, the boys went to their rooms to get ready. With a shaky breath, Jason nervously straighten his shirt as he stared himself into the mirror in front of him.
"She will love it, Master Jason" he hears Alfred.
"Do you think so?" Jason quietly asks.
"Do you trust her?" Alfred asks, his hand on Jason's shoulder.
Jason nodded, "With my life"
"Then you know, deep in your heart that she will say yes" he says.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
You wore a pretty light pink off shoulder sun dress with matching pink flats. Barbara curled your hair while Steph did your makeup, you questioned why they're dolling you up but you shrug knowing it's typical for girls to do this once in a while.
Once your finish, Stephanie sent a text to Jason with a thumbs up who replied back that he's ready. You four made your way to the backyard.
"What's going on?" You asked giggling.
"Alfred demanded Bruce to do a family picnic in the backyard, so we are now on our way there" Barbara lies.
The curtains on the main floor are shut, covering what's really going on, but you didn't question it. You reach towards the doornob, not noticing Steph bringing out her phone to record as Barbara did the same.
You open the door as the music starts playing;
youtube
Well, I guess the third time's not a charm
Nursing a three times broken heart
And down the rabbit hole again
Your eyes widen as you see the boys including Bruce and Alfred standing on each side of Jason as he smiles when he spots you.
I put myself in another world
Where I can be any other girl
'Cause I don't really wanna face it
Cass places her hand on your back as she gave you a soft smile, she whispers. "Go on"
Your heart flutters as you began your journey to your boyfriend, you notice the white-pink petals on the floor, your favorite colored flower that you told Jason on your first date.
'Cause, if it isn't real
You can pretend all you want
It's all you'll ever need
"That's not healthy, " they said
"To live in your head"
But it hurts a lot less to me
You covered your face when realizing the song that was playing, the song you became obsessed with once it came out. You love this song. And everyday, it reminded you how much you love Jason.
The man of your dreams.
I fall in love with boys I see on a TV screen
The ones in books who are as perfect as they can be
I spend all of my time imagining
What it would be like if they existed
My parents tell me I should look for one in real life
But I get let down by both the bad boys and the nice guys
I'm tired of giving more than I receive
So I'll just stick to the boys
Who don't know me
To you, Jason was the fantasy boy you've always wanted, the one who loved you with all your heart. The one who made you smile, laugh and cared with all your being.
Oh, I hid his number, I almost called
Like, maybe he's hurting after all
I can't afford to be that naïve
I'll just keep wishing it was me
In that ending scene
Where they're meeting up halfway
And they're kissing in the rain
It's a little bit cliché
But I love it anyway
Memories of the two of you flashes before your eyes, the good and the bad, tears starts to pool in your eyes as you approached Jason. His hand out as you reached for him.
"Hi" You whispered.
'Cause it's better than when you're walking home
And the rain starts pouring
But you're all alone
"Hey baby" he whispers back as you both a bit further from the family.
I fall in love with boys I see on a TV screen
The ones in books who are as perfect as they can be
I spend all of my time imagining
What it would be like if they existed
My parents tell me I should look for one in real life
But I get let down both the bad boys and the nice guys
I'm tired of giving more than I receive
So I'll just stick to the boys
Who don't know me
You appraoched a lovely scene of fluffy pillows with your favorite drink and favorite snacks you love to eat while being in the lair.
You start to gasps as tears fell, Jason's hands cups your cheeks wiping the tears with his thumbs. "Hey baby, breathe"
"I'm sorry" You cried quietly.
"I love you" Jason begins, "5 years ago, our journey began when you kissed me in the halls of the Manor to calm me down and I knew, you are gonna be the person in my life who's able to do that"
I'd rather keep on dreaming of someone
I'll never meet
(Ohh-oh) than give love to another one
who won't choose me
I'd rather keep on dreaming of someone
I'll never meet
(Ohh-oh) than give love to another one
who won't choose me
"I can't..." Jason sniffs as his tears falls slowly, "I can't imagine my life without you. You are someone that I can't imagine living my life without and I have... I have to make you mine. Forever"
"Oh fuck" You cursed knowing what's coming next as you covered your face.
Jason chuckles at your reaction, "(Y/N) (L/N), you have been the love of my life, my girlfriend, my whole world..."
Getting down on one knee, Jason brings out the small red box opening it to see the ring that sits there.
"Will you marry me?"
I fall in love with boys I see on a TV screen
The ones in books who are as perfect as they can be
I spend all of my time imagining
What it would be like If they existed
My parents tell me I should look for one in real life (ohh-oh)
And I've found my love that sits under the night skies (ohh-oh)
I'm happy of giving more than I receive (oh-oh)
So I'll just stick to the boy who do know me
You nodded frantically as you jumped into his arms shouting "YES!" the entire family cheers as Jason places the ring on your left finger and kisses you passionately.
And I've found my love that sits under the night skies (ohh-oh)
I'm happy of giving more than I receive (oh-oh)
So I'll just stick to the boy who do know me
You pull away as you felt three heavy weight on you, you grinned as you felt his brothers hugging you tightly as you squeal when seeing your family and friends running towards you.
"You did this?" You asked Jason with a wide smile.
"I bought your friends and parents here to see you get proposed" Jason smiles pecking your lips.
"You remembered" You whispers.
He nods, "Of course I did, how did you think I pulled this off?"
You gave him the brightest smile as you flash your ring towards your family and friends who greeted you.
Jason stood there with his family, congratulating him as he smiles watching you hugging the people you love. He pulled it off, the tiredness, the nervousness he felt finally went away when you said yes. Now, Jason knew, the next step is sealing the deal.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd#redhood#batfamily x reader#batsis#batsis in law#batfamily proposal#Youtube
183 notes
·
View notes
Text
BIRD HUNT — one
nonidol!choi line x f!reader
gotham city is a gutter running rampant with the ill, corrupt, and the insane. at times, justice and vengeance must be served by one's own hand... no matter the lengths one must go to do so.
▷ genre, au, etc. bat family au, dc comics inspired, dark, vigilantes au, slow burn, ceo/billionaire au, cat woman!reader, murder mystery au, action, suspense, angst, slow burn-ish?, love square??; choi line inspired by dick grayson (csb), jason todd (cyj), and tim drake (cbg), including bruce wayne for choi minho and damian wayne for nishimura riki, inspired by 2022's The Batman
▷ chapter warnings. swearing, mentions of insomnia, bank robbery, mentions of assault/violence, mentions of weaponry, depictions of death and blood, dead body
▷ word count. 3.8k // taglist. open
« m.list · next »
FILE_01 : a thing for strays
gotham city.
[beomgyu & yn are 15, soobin is 16, yeonjun is 17.]
The incessant, distinct cry of meowing drew 15-year-old Choi Beomgyu from his warm covers and his state of sleep. (Technically speaking, it was only partial unconsciousness, but this wasn't about his insomnia.) He had long accepted the fact that good night's rests were rare in this world and with his condition, so there was less irritation and more plain curiosity in his mind. In other words, he cared very much about how a cat could meow so loud over the city’s infinite soundtrack more than sleeping.
He dragged his palms over his eyes, scrubbing away the stinging in his irises due to sleep deprivation. The dull buzz at the back of his head kept him awake constantly anyway. As he made his way toward the window, his eyelids fluttered like the shutter of a camera lens, actively adjusting to the warm glow of a light radiating from the apartment across the alleyway from him and streaming into the darkness of his.
Beomgyu peered out of the window, hand idly scratching his chest while the other leaned on the sill. It wasn't completely uncommon to see at least one person wandering the streets late at night in Gotham City. No sane person would be out, but whoever said Gotham residents were sane in the first place?
In the alleyway below, he could make out a shadowy form crouched by a dingy cardboard box at the foot of a dumpster. You knelt there before the box; Beomgyu quietly lifted his window open to hear what you were saying. You didn't look much older than he was, and you were bundled in a straight trench coat that left much to the imagination. A pair of slippers peeked out from beneath you, however, where you braced yourself against the grainy gravel ground.
"I'm not gonna — yah! I'm trying to help you, you st—" You huffed, hands raised in the air. "Sorry, that's mean of me to say."
A small laugh fell from his lips.
Your head perked up at the sound, and he mentally praised your alertness. That was a critical skill to wield here. Your head whipped around, eyes searching the alleyway, before meeting his eyes. You narrowed your own. "Have you just been there watching me this whole time?"
"Depends; how long have you been out here?" He drawled back, his upper body leaning out of the window and his elbows bracing against the window sill.
You rolled your eyes and turned back to the cat in the box. "Creep."
"Weirdo."
That got you whirling around for him again, and this time, he stared at the way the amber streetlight posted just at the mouth of the alleyway illuminated your features and the feisty gleam in your eyes. There was a feline likeness to your eyes and tendencies—your posture and crouch stance, narrow-eyed cynicism, alertness and awareness. "The fuck d'you just call me?"
He shrugged with a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. "You called me a creep first."
You scoffed at his teasing. This was much more fun than tossing and turning for sleep that would never come.
"Are you not afraid of catching something from the animals out here?" Beomgyu queried, now leaning his chin in the palm of his hand. He was Juliet leaning out of her window to lament her dramatic soliloquy, unaware of Romeo's presence below. His father would scoff at such a romanticized view of life, but it was all said with an undertone of cynicism anyway. "I mean, have you seen what crawls out of the gutters? Ngh," he shivered.
There was something he couldn't place in your features as you suddenly scooped the mewling cat into your arms and stood facing him. Beomgyu watched in awe as the cat began to purr and nuzzle into the warmth that your body provided. Your hand gently smoothed over its fur, even if the feline was matted with dirt and grime.
"I have a thing for strays," you said simply. On the surface, it was a quote of defiance, but beneath it all, he sensed there was something else to it.
Beomgyu's heart stuttered when you had said that and looked him right in the eyes.
As if on cue, a pair of black and white cats padded their way out of the shadows toward you. From where, he had no clue. But they circled your legs, rubbing against your sweatpants adoringly. He guessed these were yours, but he shouldn't assume simply based on their cleaner and maintained coats. (Sarcasm—that was sarcasm. He was definitely going to guess based on that.)
The apartment across the alleyway opened up at ground level and more of its warm light streamed out into the alley. A woman stood at the doorway with one hand on her cocked hip. "Yn, you know we can't…"
"Oh, but mama," you pleaded. You lifted the purring mass of fur in your arms as if it would plead your case for you. It was kind of cute, really. "Look at her."
The woman's eyes twinkled. "Ah, all right. Let me see if we have more—" Her words died upon her tongue when she caught Beomgyu's frame at his window.
He marked the spark of recognition in her eyes. He wasn't completely surprised.
"You're—You're one of the Choi kids, aren't you?" She asked. Perhaps it was less of a question than a statement, because Beomgyu had no doubt she didn't need confirmation. He and his brothers' and his father's faces had been plastered all over the society columns since birth. "Beomgyu, isn't it?"
"Yes ma'am," he said. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
Her head tilted to the side, and he saw the curiosity in your features, as well. It seemed you hadn't recognized him though. "You're quite polite for…" She shook her head, dismissing her previous thought. "What're you doing on this side of the city?"
Ah, and that was yet another mystery, wasn't it? Besides the mystery of his entire family, it was the fact that the Choi kids, despite hardly being adult aged, did not live at Choi Manor all of the time. Eventually, Beomgyu figured they'd all amass there once more and dwell there more frequently, but for now, he liked his dingy, crumby, little apartment in this specific Gotham gutter. Folks usually didn't expect the child of a multimillionaire to pick this dump to have his own apartment in.
But that was the strategy, wasn't it? Not only to prove people's judgements wrong, but to also let himself live and breathe and learn from his own mistakes.
Oh, and learn to deal with his insomnia on his own. So far, the only solutions he'd found were copious doses of melatonin or just caffeine. But even those things were hit or miss.
"Got kicked out," he joked.
And then he regretted it immediately afterward when he realized how real that felt. It was sticky and metallic in his mouth, like blood, and it felt too real.
You and your mother were surprisingly sympathetic and neither of you made any brash comments concerning his status, his money, his family and being "kicked out." He expected something like "spoiled brat got an apartment to himself when he got kicked out of daddy's mansion," but nothing of the sort came forth.
I have a thing for strays, your words echoed in his mind.
The doorway to your apartment seemed to open just a little wider. "How about you come over for a little hot chocolate?"
Despite it being the beginning of summer, hot chocolate sounded nice. (Hot chocolate and company sounded nice.)
Beomgyu's eyes subtly flickered over to you, expecting some kind of catty objection, but even you stayed quiet, your eyes peering up at him. Waiting. I have a thing for strays.
"Okay," he swallowed. "I couldn't sleep anyway."
[3 years later.]
"You're a little young, don't you think?"
Nineteen-year old-Choi Soobin's head perked up at the question posed toward the current interviewee. Your name was Ln Yn, according to the manilla file folder of your records, application, and supplementary materials—all of which were quite good for someone of your age. When you presented yourself before the panel of interviewers for the opening of a job here at Choi Enterprises, you had done so with perfect posture and a professional vocabulary. You acted a lot older than your age, which was why Soobin thought that question was so goddamn absurd.
You didn't even fidget, all to your credit. You didn't shrink once under the stares of the interview panel, plus Soobin. He was just there to observe and learn, but he was given permission beforehand to step in if he felt any desire to. "Pardon?"
The man who had posed the question was one of Soobin's least favorite people here. Along with a balding head, he had a balding personality. Balding of what? Balding of humanity. He elaborated, "You've only just graduated from high school, you have yet to even begin a college degree. Do you not believe that you could learn and experience a little more?"
You cleared your throat. "With all due respect, sir, the hiring page said that this was an entry level job."
Yeah, Soobin thought to himself, that's what they always say. You must have been surprised by the extensive hiring process for said "entry level job." He really needed to have a talk with the people in Hiring and Recruitment; he picked up the pen tucked behind his ear to note it down in his little notebook to remind himself later.
"And yet, we also prefaced the description with a college degree requirement," added another member. Soobin begrudgingly admitted that that was true.
"I don't believe a college degree is particularly necessary for secretarial work, especially when most of the duties will be taught to me on site."
That is also true, he thought. Professional, calm… blank. You'd fit in great here.
"It would be difficult for partners and businesses to take a girl like you seriously—"
Soobin leaned forward and sent a look down toward the idiot who decided to open his mouth again. He sounded like he had a stick up his ass; Soobin wouldn't be surprised if he did. His posture said otherwise, but his attitude? Jesus fucking Christ. He cut in, "Excuse me."
As his father had told him time and time again: Sometimes you have to do things yourself.
The room shifted its attention to him. He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, his hand raised slightly with his pen, gesturing vaguely. "Your age is not really the main concern, Miss Ln. Not for me, at least." Your eyes had narrowed slightly on him, and he straightened in his chair. "The concern is that, while your résumé and references are good, your experience is lacking. This would be your first corporate job and we're looking for someone who could reliably carry out what we have outlined their duties to be."
That was how it should have been worded. That was how his father would have worded it.
"Then based off my references, Mr. Choi, would it not be safe to say that I am a reliable person?" It was definitely safe to say that you knew your way around words and requirements. There was a defiance about you that he couldn't deny, something rare that prodded at the back of his mind. It told him that if he didn't snatch you up now, someone else would.
When the interview ended, Soobin tucked the pen behind his ear once more. It was customary for interviewers to wait until the interviewee had left the room before they could leave, as well. They would think over their notes tonight before coming to a decision on all of the candidates tomorrow morning.
That feeling pricked at the back of Soobin's mind as he stood from his seat and hustled over to the elevator. He went down to the lobby, where he spotted you just pushing out the main glass doors.
"Miss Ln!"
Your head perked up at the sound of your name being shouted over the hustle and bustle of the Gotham City streets. Strands of your hair, windswept under the forever-overcast sky, blew across your face and you reached up to brush them out of your eyesight as you marked the young Choi heir making his way over to you. He was tall—perhaps around six foot or taller—with a crisp suit and that blue ballpoint pen behind one ear. The dark circles rimming his dark eyes were charming like his black bangs swept up by the breeze.
You didn't know what to say to him, really, but here you were—stopping and awaiting his thoughts. Soobin was grateful you did. There was something irking him about you, something he couldn't put his finger on. Anyone else would have stopped him, begged him for the position. He was younger, impressionable, a Choi.
You waited.
"I just wanted to say," he said, nodding, "good luck." He choked out the words, not because they tasted bitter on his tongue, but because he hadn't even known why he had chased you down in the first place.
Your eyes glanced at him up and down, but you were nodding back at him. You suddenly looked so uncomfortable in that formal wear. "Thank you."
Soobin heard the distant cries of his name from down the street—aw fuck. Just as he ducked back into the building, you had disappeared into the crowd. He hoped he might see you again.
[1 year later.]
"H-he has a young woman in ther—"
"Sick," twenty-one-year-old Choi Yeonjun said, patting the man on the head. The bank teller quivered like a leaf in the wind in the presence of Gotham's Red Hood. "Thanks, man."
As Yeonjun stepped over the fallen bodies of his victims—they didn't even deserve the label of "victim" when they had been the ones robbing this joint—he replaced the cartridge of his pistols. They were twins, pearl handles with just a touch of gold that he loved to twirl around in his hands. His father always rolled his old man eyes when he showboated, but Yeonjun never thought of it as showboating, rather an art. There were moments where he preferred the heft and damage of an AK-47, but his babies were always there for him, too.
He adjusted the crimson mask seated securely over his entire face; the metal was warm with his breathing, but he had gotten used to the suffocating feeling.
His old man would murder him if his face was seen while he was "serving justice" or whatever.
It was a shame that this last dude had taken a hostage though. That meant traumatized victim, a much more careful shot needed, and a whole lot of—
"Fuck you!"
He stopped clean at the threshold of the main vault at the back of the Gotham Bank (yes, the so-called "joint") as he watched the young woman in question, you, twist your captor's arm behind his back and pin him to the ground beneath the sole of your three-inch heel. He had gone red in the face, him and his bald ass head.
What a view. Yeonjun whistled lowly before he could stop himself.
Both heads looked up to watch him walk in. He caught the way your shoulders tensed at the sight of him, and he opened three of his fingers in each hand and showed his palms like his own way of raising his hands. "Hey, darlin', we're on the same side."
Your hair fell in disarray around your head and face, and your mascara had smudged around your eyes, but it didn't discount the sharp narrowing of them. "What took you so long? Aren't you supposed to be the hero or something?"
"Okay, first of all, I'm not a hero—" he blinked and sent a bullet through the robber's upper thigh. You shrieked, leaping away from him and Yeonjun, who suspected that you now thought of him as a maniac. Good. "—I'm just the dude who's trying to serve justice or something."
Yeonjun holstered his two baby pistols into the holsters on either side of his belt. "And second, that was—"
The sharp cry of sirens pierced the air, and he could hear the caws of incoming cops and their thundering footsteps heading right toward his and your location. Yeonjun swore under his breath, his instincts kicking in.
"Well, that's my cue to leave." He whirled on his heel and saluted you. "See ya!"
He ducked into the shadows of the hallway just outside the vault, and waited for the police to run past him with their blaring walkie talkies. They would find you in the carnage, no gun in sight, but with a wounded bad guy at your feet and a bullet hole in his thigh.
Yeonjun's head thumped back against the wall; he bit his lip beneath the mask. Fuck it, you were gonna be fine.
He had thought that, and yet, here he now sat, lounging in the passenger seat of your car in the alleyway by the bank, biding his time. His mask and dark brown leather jacket laid discarded at his booted feet, his aching arms given breathing room through his white muscle tee. He stretched out the kinks in his neck, hand running through his damp, black hair.
He was waiting.
Literally waited an hour and a half. Or maybe it was just half an hour. Sue him, he was hungry.
Finally, you rounded the corner to the symphony of your car unlocking. It gave a delightfully loud chirp and it knocked the drowsiness right out of his brain. Thank god there was still some light out or else you might have screamed. Instead, you stopped right outside your car, in front of the windshield with your eyes wide. (Actually, you didn't feel like the "scream in fright" type. It was more like "inhale sharply.")
Yeonjun didn't know what he was doing, to be honest. Then again, he never knew what he was doing. He smiled lazily at you and gave a small wave.
You must have had some kind of death wish, because you approached the car with him still in it, and he hadn't even introduced himself yet. Or maybe, he didn't have to introduce himself.
Your eyes narrowed again for the second time he had seen you. Was that your tell? Your thing?
Carefully, you tugged the driver's door open, but remained behind it and did not get in with him. Smart girl. "What the hell do you want and how the fuck did you get in here?"
"You kiss your mama with that mouth, darlin’?" He teased before he could stop himself. What could he say? He was a "shoot first, ask questions later" type of guy. His father hated that about him.
"Why are you in my car?"
He shook his head and let out a noise akin to feigned exasperation. "Just tryin' to make sure they didn't give you shit."
"I didn't see you in the bank, Choi Yeonjun."
Bingo. He smiled. "I like to be noticed when I wanna be noticed."
Your head cocked to the side. "I guess I believe you." You gestured to him vaguely with a lazy hand. "D'you mind?"
He sat up in the passenger seat and gestured his hand back toward you and the driver's seat. Maybe if his smile had widened, your eye would have twitched. There was something so amusing about him gradually frustrating you. "No, not at all."
Your pretty eyes rolled; he laughed.
"Okay, okay. Got the message." He briefly raised his hands in mock surrender, then leaned down to collect his red mask in the fabric of his brown leather jacket. He hadn't even bothered to remove or hide his pearl-handled pistols from his side holsters as he removed himself from your car.
A smirk flickered to his lips—out of your sight, of course—when he heard you sputter, "Wait—"
"Later, darlin'!" And then he was gone, out of your sight, as if he had been only a shadow from your memory.
You wondered if this day could get even weirder or even worse than it already was.
Exhaustion coursed through your veins as you slipped into the driver's seat and pulled out onto the main street. First, it was the strange email you'd received about a problem with your bank account. Then, it was whatever that interaction was. Choi Yeonjun as the Red Hood? Or perhaps only covering for one of the city’s resident vigilantes? But then, for what reason? If not for all of the trouble, you would have been home already; your joints loosened at the thought of coming home to your mom, pets, and something warm for dinner.
Brain muddied like a Gotham gutter during the wet season, the last thing that you wanted to worry about right now was how a Choi heir was connected to a vigilante.
When you arrived on your street, you pulled into the alley beside your complex and pushed back out into the grainy, Gotham evening.
Your head cocked to the side at the sound of loud meowing. As you approached the door, you could hear scratching from the other side.
Strange. Your cats usually knew to not scratch the doors anymore, and why wasn't your mom getting them to stop?
With a reprimand on your lips, you pushed your way in. “Guys, who is…”
A scream was left caught in your throat.
You felt yourself stumble forward into your home, the floorboards patterned in bloody paw prints, multicolored fur swarming your legs and meowing at you in distress.
Out—had they been trying to get out?
“Mom?” Your voice sounded strangled. “Mama?”
Bile crawled up your throat and your palm slammed against the side wall to keep yourself upright. You couldn’t get your eyes off of your mother’s taut and ashen skin, lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling, a bullet hole through her temple. Blood seeped into the floorboards to stain the wood beneath her limp body, and you were choking, hacking at the metal filling up your lungs.
You stumbled toward her body and blood oozed into the material of your pants as you knelt by her body to feel for her pulse.
Dead. Deaddeaddeaddead.
Your hands stained with your mother’s crimson life force stained your hands and trembled as you searched your body for your phone. You—what were—what was the number? Who did this? This couldn’t be real.
Blood rushed into your ears; you couldn’t hear the sirens, couldn’t hear the voice on the other end of the phone.
Your mind had gone blank, mouth dry, and you sat down on the ground next to your mother’s body, your tears slipping down the slopes of your cheeks to land on her own face.
Dead, how could she be dead? How was this real?
A mass of fur appeared in the corners of your vision and you followed their gaze back toward the front door. And for a chilling moment, you were stone-cold sober. There was a note staked into the doorframe: A Debt Repaid.
a/n: pls remember to comment and reblog!
« m.list · next »
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @meosjinnn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @loveliestfelix @zhaixiaowen @justanotherkpopstanlol @w3bqrl @kangfication @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @super-btstrash-posts @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet @rikizm
series taglist: @winterchimez @mosviqu @boba-beom @strawbrinkofdeath @baek-at-it-again95 @todosmash @loveforred @rocarecs
#kflixnet#txt x reader#choi yeonjun x reader#choi soobin x reader#choi beomgyu x reader#yeonjun x reader#soobin x reader#beomgyu x reader#txt oneshots#txt series#txt imagines#txt drabbles#txt scenarios#yeonjun oneshot#soobin oneshot#beomgyu oneshot#yeonjun imagines#soobin imagines#beomgyu imagines
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stayed up until 3:30 envisioning my daughter of Zeus OC from childhood that I crafted into an original original character having a nervous breakdown because the sky is loveless and law is loveless and order is loveless and at some point the love she has in her heart won't be enough
"the ocean is a possessive bastard that never wants you to leave, and the earth loves you so much it provides so you can live, and the dead are coated in love from grief, and homes are where love first sprouted, the warmth of the fire, and what is the core of family and marriage if not the love between people, but the sky?
the sky doesn't love you. you jump and it doesn't catch you, it will watch you plummet to the ground. the higher up you go, the harder it is to breathe. the sky does not want you, it does not love you. and the law does not love you. it doesn't care about you, who you are, how you are, the why's behind the rule you broke. it will structure itself how it sees fit, based on its own feelings of what is and isn't correct, and it will throw you away for the slightest infraction. it will kill you for not acting the way it demands.
and I am the daughter of the sky, I am the daughter of law. at some point love won't be enough to stop me from executing every person who so much as breathes wrong. my love is superficial. it is not authentic, it is not genuine, it is a thin, thin blanket covering my cold empty heart and I will not get to the point where it is ripped away! I will not be my mother, and I will not be my father! I REFUSE!
so please just let me die"
Naturally I tried to figure out how to sculpt this into a Jason monologue because who gives a shit about OCs, esp ones they've never heard of, lol, but it was 3:30 and I needed to sleep, and I was like meh it's not possibly for jaybird anyway, he's got that wolf in him
But Jason has also been continuously abandoned by every family he's ever had - his mom, the wolves, camp jupiter when they didn't go looking for him, leo and piper, probably more and so on, and I HC to be suicidal and actively self-harm himself
and you know what, I think it would be neat if everyone was like "Jason, you don't have time for friends, you need to learn to be a leader, you need to focus on training, blah blah blah" and he's desperate to see if he can have both and somehow someway he summons dead siblings to ask advice from or maybe he prays for advice and receives a dream from my stressed out baby girl who's basically like "I had so much love in my heart, it was slowly killing me every single day because my rules were small and stupid but they mattered so fucking much and people broke them all the tim and the intense need I felt to hurt them as punishment for their wrongdoings made me want to kill myself and the only reason I couldn't is because my friends kept catching me. don't befriend a child of Pluto or Mors, they're annoyingly adept and weirdly stubborn about you dying when they don't want you to"
ofc Jason is desperate. He wants people, he wants community. But she just shakes her head. "you're the oldest child of Jupiter here. You're the only child of Jupiter here. You have no choice. I was the youngest of my siblings. If I were in line to be praetor, if I were in line to be charge of my cohort, I would've tried so much harder to die because love and leadership are incompatible for us. Maybe it works out for other people, but not for us.
Abandon your affections, Jason. Crave friendship but never seek it out. It will hurt you less when it comes time to discipline those who break the rules. You are a tornado waiting to happen, you are a lightning storm. Your discipline will not be gentle and it will not be light. Do you want to be feared by those you love?"
and he shakes his head, wishing he was a softer person, one who shocked rather than electrocuted, one who didn't bear their teeth, and played with the breeze instead of manifesting gale.
"then love no one. because the fear will come no matter what, but love? that's what you have to work for. and it has no place with us"
#jason grace#happy talks pjo#okay im going back to sleep. woke up to feed cats take meds and write this out. bye
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Listen. If being mean to you guys wasn’t so much funnier than giving you exactly what you wanted, I swear I wouldn’t do it.
But it is. It really is.
As always, AO3 link is still in the first chapter!
First:
Previous:
Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikoyuii @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @arandomturd @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10
———————
Danger Twink Powers Activate
“Danger Twink is on the move!” It was Nightwing yelling it into the comms. It had to be, because not a damn one of the rest of them could have got through that sentence without laughing.
Oh, his voice was all joyful glee and Spoiler was soooo mad she left when she did because what the fuck is she missing, but the message was clear.
Things in the ballroom hit a flashpoint, and for some reason Danny was doing the shit kicking. She’d wonder what the fuck Jason thought he was doing, since he’d been in arm’s reach of the guy all evening, but.
Yeah. Last she saw, Croc was separating them. Apparently Danny took a little less kindly to that than you’d think.
“Report?” She asked hopefully, half wanting to be called back to the hall. She’d nearly reached Black Bat, but let’s be honest.
Ten, fifteen Riddler minions? Bat could finish them before she even got there.
Red Robin sounded annoyed, as he always did when one of them (usually Damian) jumped the gun on him.
“They were walking Jason Todd towards a bomb vest. His civilian friend took exception to that, and now he’s… Wing what would you call that?”
“If the kid was twice the size I’d call that a classic sumo stance but he’s a fucking twink so it’s never gonna… well fuck me.”
Red Robin picked up the narrative again, now deadpan.
“He’s stopped Killer Croc dead and lifted him off the ground. Might be a butchered judo throw.”
“Need me back in there?” Spoiler pressed, both fingers crossed even as she ran down a hall. She’d only gone down one flight, there was a balcony into the dining hall.
She could make it.
“Negative, Spoiler. Get to Black Bat, Robin make sure that machine can’t be activated. Signal?”
Fucker. She’d make Tim suffer for it once they were all out of costume.
“You’d better fucking record the fight,” she grumbled, even as Signal buzzed in, sounding almost out of breath.
“Close, just got another block to clear.”
“Would this be a good time to remind you all that Fenton is a meta?” Robin bit out, shades of sarcasm filtering all the way through the falsely conversational tone.
Spoiler damn near tripped as Nightwing cursed.
“Okay fucking what?” That was a little important to be skipped over.
“Shit, yeah, sorry Robin… we didn’t have time to fill you guys in, Robin thinks he saw Fenton teleport. But he’s not teleporting now,” Nightwing added quickly, the frown clear in his voice.
As was Robin rolling his eyes.
“Abnormal strength is one of the most common meta abilities, in case you’d forgotten. Watch closely for the rest of his power set.”
Red Robin cut across them both, voice sharp. New factors always put him on edge.
“Robin saw, or Robin thinks he saw? Can we confirm this?”
Which, ouch, Red Robin might need to check his room for traps for a while.
Spoiler flinched, even through a grin. As much as it sucked for them, it was good fun for her when the Robins squared off. If either ever asked for help, she’d be happy to provide.
“He thought he saw, but the timelines didn’t match up. It was maybe three minutes before we bumped into you, they couldn’t have crossed the hall in time,” Nightwing explained gently, trying to keep the peace.
Robin clearly already had vengeance on his mind.
“I saw them all disappear, Nightwing, it is hardly my fault if the rest of you are incompetent! Black Bat agreed,” he added almost sullenly, and oh Spoiler could see the pout now.
And hear the faintest hint of smugness under the last declaration. Poor kid still had such a hard time accepting anyone believed in him.
Might have helped if he spent less time insisting that he was better than everyone else and they were all beneath him, but hey, League of Assassins training didn’t include humility.
Not for the heir to the Demon Head, anyway. Black Bat managed just fine.
And added in her two cents pretty much immediately, backing Robin up.
“Agreed. May not be strict teleportation, but Fenton has meta abilities of some kind. Shadows?” She asked, and the chat went silent for a moment, clearly waiting on Signal to weigh in.
His sigh was as resigned and tired as could be imagined.
“I’m not going to know until I get a look at him, guys, you know that. Might be cool if he does though, it’d be nice to have another meta on the team,” he added thoughtfully.
Robin tutted, but before he could voice his opinions of that Red Robin butted in again.
“Current circumstances may indicate that Fenton at least isn’t averse to conflict, but that doesn’t mean he’s on the right side. All that can wait for now, do you have an ETA, Signal?” He asked, clearly still typing away in the meantime.
Yeah, keeping the bats on task was a little like herding cats. They’d get the job done (and look good doing it), but keeping the comms cleared of banter was just never gonna happen.
“I’m outside, can’t see anyone at first glance. Want me to lock the place down?” Signal replied, and Spoiler sighed.
Bringing Signal in after dark always felt like cheating. Boy got OP in all of the shadows. Even if there might be someone else playing in them tonight.
Red Robin ignored her comment, still all business.
“Scan for Two Face or any of his crew first, go a block or two over. He may have been planning the initial attack. Can you cover up the damaged windows?
She could hear Signal sucking air through his teeth. A habit they’d all tried to break him of, if only for the truly ratty way it crackled over comms.
“I can up the lights inside, but not if I’m a block away. Priorities?”
“Scan first. Black Bat, Spoiler and Robin, when you’re done assist Signal. We have things handled in here.”
“And I’m recording it for you Spoiler, pinky promise,” Nightwing added gleefully, and she really wanted to kick him. “I left a camera high before joining the fun. Found Riddler yet Little Red?”
“Call me that again, Discowing.”
“Uh, that was a have you found the Riddler, Red Robin?”
“Not yet. It’ll go faster if you all shut up and do your jobs.” Red Robin still sounded actually annoyed rather than having fun, and Spoiler snickered.
“He’s worried his new best friend will be in danger,” she sang into comms, launching herself down a staircase and landing neatly with her knees planted on the shoulders of a running goon.
The burly woman toppled and Spoiler smacked her head off the floor for good measure, pulling out her zip ties.
“Civilians in danger is supposed to worry us, Spoiler,” Red Robin sniped back and she sighed again.
Yeah, okay, he had a bug in his ass. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to anyone either. Riddler must have bought the good encryption today.
“Yessir Red Robin. Shutting up,” she agreed with a one finger salute he’d never see, then continued on.
Missing all the fun just because the boys didn’t want to share. Wasn’t that always the way?
**
Honestly, if it hadn’t been Killer Croc Jason might not have suggested going rogue. Riddler’s guys carried guns, and even without the man himself around any spray would probably catch a hostage.
But Croc was a good guy, as weird as that might seem to say about a rogue. He’d been dealt a crappy hand, and while he wouldn’t shy away from violence on his own account, he had a kind heart.
He’d helped Roy get clean, and curbed Jason’s own more destructive tendencies in the past. Croc kept almost but not quite getting out of the life.
And, as expected, even as the big guy hauled himself to his feet he roared at the tensed goons.
“You lot get the fuckin’ bats, I can handle a scrawny little shit!” Slitted eyes narrowed as he turned to find Danny, who grinned back.
“Y’know, you’d be real surprised how often I hear that,” Danny snarked, shaking out his shoulders.
Jason resisted the urge to laugh, backing carefully away from the pair and the Riddler goons not already disarmed by Nightwing.
He wasn’t allowed to get in on the action in civvies, but he could throw the world’s clumsiest punch if none of his siblings were looking.
He could hear them over his comms, hurriedly coordinating, but for now he zoned them out. Better to focus on Croc and Danny.
Croc chuckled softly at Danny’s remark, flexing his claws.
“And yer still here. Is that what I’m supposed to get from that?” He asked in a low, rumbling voice. Danny just shrugged cheerfully.
“Or that I’m a habitual problem on purpose who never learns his lesson. Either’s good, really.” Spreading his feet to shoulder width apart, he flexed his knees and raised both hands.
Killer Croc actually laughed at that, ignoring the Riddler goons now firing up towards the ceiling.
“Shoulda stayed down on the floor, kid. Nobody’s gotta get hurt today,” he growled, which Jason felt was frankly unfair.
“As the guy who was being led to a bomb vest, I’m good with an intervention,” he quipped, raising both hands innocently when Croc shot him a look. “Man exploding hurts, I dunno if you’ve tried it.”
Jason had. He was mostly okay joking about it.
From the sudden worried look Danny shot him, maybe that “mostly” showed through a little too much.
Right. Because Danny still didn’t know how he’d died. Hopefully still didn’t, anyway.
Before he could try and work out what to say, or to send or whatever, Croc lunged at Danny.
Jason expected him to dodge. Danny was built like a Robin, lean and slender, and from what Jason had seen so far almost always smaller than his opponents.
Definitely smaller than Killer Croc.
Danny didn’t dodge. Tensing in place, he met Croc’s charge dead on. And stopped it in its tracks, not even sliding back across the floor.
And yeah, Jason was gonna have to stop being surprised every time the future Ghost King flexed, he’d gotten there by kicking ass but this was the first time Jason had seen him fight.
He was gonna enjoy it.
Croc looked just as stunned as Jason, both wrists caught in Danny’s hands as the kid grinned up at him.
“Blowing up definitely sucks, 0/10 don’t recommend,” he agreed with a smirk, shifted his grip, and tossed Killer Croc across the floor.
The large meta threw himself back to his feet, an almost growling chuckle breaking free.
“You’ve got some moves, kid, I’ll give yer that,” he rumbled, closing the distance a little more carefully, now wary of Danny’s hands.
Jason was dimly aware of Dick kick flipping his way around in the background. There was already a lot less gunfire. And while he’d usually be kibitzing, there was a new show on today.
Killer Croc vs Danger Twink, ten rounds no waiting.
**
The gala hall descended into madness faster than Bruce could ever have anticipated. If he’d been concerned when Jason had been singled out, it was only worse when the bomb vest appeared.
Jason would likely have been fine; none of the bats would let him get seriously injured and hells, Jason could have disabled the vest himself.
Bruce could see the wiring from his spot on the floor, apparently completely forgotten by all as Croc faced off against that scrungly fucking kid.
Danny Fenton, whoever he was, was reckless, dangerous, and clearly didn’t care what happened to those around him.
Danny Fenton wouldn’t let Jason be trapped in a bomb vest. Would put his own life on the line to prevent that if necessary, wrestling with a gigantic cannibalistic meta.
Danny Fenton was almost certainly a meta himself. Even Batman couldn’t throw Killer Croc around like that.
It was hard for Bruce to maintain his usual analytical detachment, watching as Killer Croc took a wide swipe. Danny ducked away, still grinning, bright as anything.
It was always hard when something involved Jason. The presence of a new meta on complicated things further.
Bruce wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, though part of him wanted more than anything to at least push his comms back in and check in with the children.
Nightwing was present and had already disarmed a good chunk of the goons, which meant there had to be more outside. They wouldn’t send him in alone if there was another choice.
Croc’s order had at least kept the gunfire high will Nightwing fucked around on the pillars. As usual he was having far too much fun for the severity of the situation, but Bruce couldn’t fault him that.
There were far too many surly protectors of the night, and he’d do what he could to keep Dick from ever being one of them.
Not least because there were only so many good brooding gargoyles around.
The man was still an effective crime fighter, and Bruce always appreciated the chance to watch him work. It was the only good thing about being stuck in civilian wear.
Jason would usually agree, he was the only one who hated being out of the fight even more than Bruce or even Damian, yet… if Bruce dragged his attention away from Killer Croc, his boy looked almost happy.
Deeply entertained, cheering Danny on from the sidelines. At least he was keeping out of the fight himself.
Right up until two more of the Riddler’s goons advanced on him, directed by Tablet Goon.
“Fools! Just bring the boy here, let Croccy deal with that pest! And take down that bird!”
Bruce tensed, wishing there was something more direct he could do. Red Robin and Oracle would both be hard at work cracking the tablet, and he’d never out pace them.
Still, there had to be something. Nightwing alone clearly wasn’t enough to scare Riddler off, so whatever plans they’d had were still a danger.
Jason didn’t even seem to notice the burly couple now advancing on him as he watched the fight, which was unusually careless.
Danny must be a worse influence than Bruce had thought. Or was it intentional? Blunting Jason’s sharp senses and telling him it dulled the pit?
Nightmare scenarios built themselves through Bruce’s head, even more as the large woman grabbed Jason by the shoulder. He visibly startled and tried to pull away, swinging a punch of his own.
Clumsy. Apparently untrained. Good. There was a chance his surprise was also an act, and Bruce almost felt bad for his suspicions.
But no, he knew Jason better than anyone. He could tell when Jason was or wasn’t faking. He was just still quick on his feet, clever as always.
Unfortunately there were too many goons for Nightwing to be of much help to his brother. He was keeping the guns high, striking with his batarangs to knock weapons from their owners’ hands.
He couldn’t get free to get to Jason.
And Jason couldn’t fight to the best of his abilities, even if he had already given both goons a bloody nose each. He landed a couple more hits before a third goon hurried over, catching him from behind.
Part of Bruce regretted telling Jason to stay visible. If he’d known he was going to be targeted… but no, the other guests would surely have noticed if he disappeared.
There was something almost like panic on Jason’s face as he was lifted, but no, that would be part of the act. Red Hood could take twice as many in under a minute.
Maybe excitement? Maybe upset that he wouldn’t be able to see the rest of the fight? Or that he couldn’t intervene when Danny needed him?
Danny was still fighting with Killer Croc too, utterly oblivious that the one he was trying to protect was being dragged away.
Untrained. With some experience, certainly, but no formal schooling to raise his situational awareness.
Bruce added it to his notes on the young man. There was a chance Danny had a little vigilante experience, in sleepy Amity Park.
Probably nothing more than some human muggers or gangsters. Nothing that would have prepared him for someone like Killer Croc.
It was almost a shame, really, the kid was quippy enough to be a Robin, bantering with Croc between grabs and punches. Light on his feet too, darting in to strike himself between blows.
Perhaps he’d befriend Dick as well. Or Tim. Either may be able to help him away from whatever bad habits he’d fallen into.
At the very least, keep him from dragging Jason down after him. His boys might be a good influence on the young meta. Would he be too old to talk to Duke?
And unfortunately his lack of experience was beginning to tell too, Bruce’s breath catching as Croc finally got a hand around the boy’s throat.
Danny was lifted from the ground, then slammed bodily into the floor. A startled squeak punched out of him, making him sound painfully young and something in Bruce lurched.
No matter what else he was, what kind of trouble he got into, that boy was the same age as his sons. Had jumped into a fight he couldn’t expect to win for his son.
They need to do something.
**
Danny barely even registered Jason’s message when it brushed across him, the tension of that ready-ready-ready sparking a moment of actual fear.
Barely there, gone in a second, but it slammed back into something Jason had said earlier on and Danny knew he had to go.
Before they got far enough he couldn’t reach. Before they could put Jason, the kid who blew up, in a fucking bomb vest.
Because that was what happened to the second Robin, wasn’t it? No one knew for sure, but the Joker liked to crow about it when he was particularly riled up.
Even if Danny hadn’t believed it before, the second he felt Jason’s heart stop seeing the vest gave it credence.
And yeah, Danny was just not gonna think about how quickly he’d gone back to business as usual, especially not to be jealous? Cuz nothing good that way lay.
Fucking Gotham. If Jason had lived pretty much anywhere else, getting out of the game woulda gotten him far enough from explosives to not need to face that trigger.
It cast a shadow over what was supposed to be just some fun, a fight in his human form for a change. Just a chance to rattle the batkids and get his ass hauled up to the stage beside Jason.
Because that? That was serious. That wasn’t happening.
Nobody was going to shove his Knight’s death in his face on Danny’s watch. No matter how much Jason’s aura had settled, a constant brush of gleeful-excited-kick his ass.
It didn’t erase the memory of that one heartbeat of dread that froze Danny’s core.
Although since he could kinda see Nightwing bouncing around from the corner of his eye, that wasn’t likely to be a Danny-only problem.
Maybe he could play Match The Wayne To The Bat once that damn vest was out of play.
He was almost having fun again, enjoying the experience of getting into a fight as a human, of not having a secret identity to protect.
No one in fucking Gotham cared about some ghost hero from Amity Park, not even if they were about to look him up. They had his name, his damn parents would tell them the rest.
It was nice to see just what his human body could do, rolling away from claw strikes and hitting back against tough scales.
And then he heard Jason swear. Felt the tug and sudden emptiness as he was pulled away between them.
Attention suddenly divided, he didn’t realise Croc’s hand was on his neck until he’d already hit the floor.
**
Jason didn’t consciously will the gun to his hand. It never quite got to the mental act of wanting it to appear.
He just heard his king make a noise of pain and his struggling hand closed around a pistol grip that wasn’t quite real. Not yet.
A startled glance showed nothing there, but he could feel the sense of the gun, just waiting for that final act of want.
It was an effort of will to resist, especially as he was being wrestled up to the stage.
Which had been part of the plan. Get close enough to provide backup for Bruce, see if he could knock the tablet somewhere Dick could get it, whatever.
He wasn’t actually struggling, and probably wouldn’t until they actually tried to put the vest on him. That, yeah, he was gonna pass on, but if he got close enough he could disarm it.
He did manage to wrench around enough to see Croc scrape Danny back out of a now cracked section of floor.
Knew he wasn’t controlling the sudden flare of rage-concern-protect-protect-How Dare He, because every ounce of his self control went to not closing his hand around the gun.
He’d left it at home, extremely deliberately. Under lock and key in his own gun safe, in his own safe house, before even going to the manor.
Fun new things to learn about being a halfa, adding this one to the list. Nobody said anything about the damn gun being able to teleport.
(Not that he was complaining. It was damn convenient, and a decent substitute for the All Blades. Hopefully having two weird magic pact weapons wasn’t gonna cause interference.)
Not summoning it got even harder when Danny reached back, brushing safe-fine-worry-now what even as Croc began dragging him after them, towards the front.
Jason hesitated for a heartbeat, not sure how to answer. Not even sure what his options to answer were, or how complicated he could make it.
So far it had mostly been emotions, intent, and there were limits to what you could really say without words. It was great for clarifying and expanding a message, but to plan?
Yeah, limited was the generous way to put it.
Why was Danny worried now? This was part of the plan, getting them up to the front.
Danny didn’t… feel hurt? Even as he rag-dolled in Croc’s grip, there wasn’t a trace of pain or even discomfort, and maybe Danny could hide that but Clockwork said he’d always know.
It was kinda his job. So what the fuck was Jason missing?
Scanning the room, his confusion only grew. Nightwing was making his way through the goons with batarangs and bolas, and most of them hadn’t switched to “help our fallen comrades” yet.
Bruce was still on the floor, completely forgotten. The rest of the hostages were fine, also on the floor, mostly quiet. No meat shields in sight yet.
His confusion must have spread across, because he felt Danny’s swell to match it, and then another gentle brush.
Death-protect-won’t hurt you
Jason tensed again, wondering where the fuck Danny thought the Joker was, and then remembering… Danny didn’t know. They’d never talked about how he’d died.
Specifically avoided it, actually. So what…
All on its own, his gaze landed on the bomb vest. Now discarded on the floor, the goons who’d been carrying it being harried by Nightwing and scolded all around by Riddler’s tablet, also on the floor.
Had. Had Danny felt that moment of fear? Recognised what it was?
Fucking Jason had barely even felt it, had made his usual jokes about it that made his family groan. It was practically routine.
Was Danny the only person in his life who wasn’t used to him coming face to face with his death?
Something grew painfully tight in Jason’s chest at the thought, but he soothed it down. Hell, if Danny had felt him wobble, that wouldn’t fuckin’ help.
He was fine. This was all going according to plan, though if Dickie had his say they might not even get through the whole plan.
Jason did his part, struggling just enough to keep all three of his goons engaged with dragging him to the front. Croc was also beginning to look annoyed, gesturing with Danny like he was a stuffed toy.
“What, yer boys can’t even handle one little bird, Eddie?!” He roared, leaping forwards to land heavily on the stage.
Jason’s awareness of Danny spiked, and he did his best to project wait-wait-safe-I’m fine. Wasn’t sure how to communicate “we can keep the same plan”.
Danny looked around again, eyes meeting his for just a moment, and Jason tipped him a wink between dramatic grimacing. Maybe flexed his arms just a little more than necessary.
Keep the show going.
Even left behind, he felt Danny’s aura soothe. Felt it wrap around him almost like a giant hand, like he was something fragile and soft.
Reassurance-trust-safe
Well, it was a start, but Jason would prefer Danny was having fun. That had been the whole damn point of getting involved.
It was a little tricky to work out how to share the feelings without changing his expression, but he settled for head butting the woman holding his left arm.
It gave him a moment where he could let the grin slip, a fierce satisfaction meeting the spray of blood.
Confident-happy-fun
Even if they got the bomb vest onto him, Riddler was easy. He had a pattern, a method he refused to deviate from, and while he was one of the more cerebral rogues?
He just wasn’t ready for the Red Hood brute force technique. There’d be clues in the vest, some complicated puzzle, but every puzzle had a cheat code.
Now the game was who finished the fight first, them or Nightwing.
**
Croc stomped up onto the stage, bending to scoop up the bomb vest with the hand not holding Danny by the neck.
Just gonna leave Riddler’s tablet yelling and swearing camera down on the floor.
Vibes. Danny might be new to town, but Riddler just wasn’t growing on him. Maybe it was all the armed goons.
Maybe it was just because he hadn’t even bothered to show up. Like, give a guy something to work with. At least Killer Croc got his own hands dirty.
Inspiration struck and Danny, reassured by Jason’s continuing cheerfulness, casually let his legs flop forward to tangle around Croc’s as he turned to rise.
The big guy didn’t fully trip, but he stumbled forward enough that Danny could use a quick moment of telekinesis to tug the bomb vest from his hand, sending it skidding across the floor towards Bruce Wayne.
If the guy was Batman, that’d be that problem pretty neatly solved. It should even look like Croc threw it by accident to any outsiders.
As if to sell the idea, Croc roared in frustration again, ripping Danny up and away from him and holding him at arm’s length.
“You are beginning to wear on my patience, kid,” he growled, eyes narrowed. Danny gave his best innocent grin back, clutching at the hand at his throat.
It hadn’t actually been cutting off his oxygen until now. Not that he needed it, it was just worth noting.
Remembering to struggle for air was the key.
“Aww and here I thought we were bringing the house down,” he teased, his voice coming out a little choked. Always helpful.
And being all the way up gave him a great vantage point to check on the rest of the room.
About half of the goons were down now, either twisted up or unconscious, and the rest were getting smarter. Or maybe the dumber ones had just gone down first.
They were hiding behind pillars and tables now, not out in the open where Nightwing could get them without coming down.
And coming down would put the civilians in the line of fire.
None of the civilians were making a break for it either, just sat in their groups on the floor not making a peep. Danny might think they were too scared to move if he hadn’t been in one of the groups.
As far as they were concerned, the outcome was pretty much guaranteed.
It was really, really fucking weird. But then, so was willingly living in this city and coming to these events, which were routinely attacked by costumed weirdos, so.
Croc interrupted his thoughts by grunting and tossing him aside, then stomping towards Bruce and the vest. Skidding on his back, Danny took advantage to snag the Riddler’s tablet as he passed.
Sure, he had no idea which of the bats would be trying to hack it or how they’d be doing it, but he knew what Tuck would want. The tablet itself if possible, VPNs turned off and wifi set to open if not.
He also turned the volume off before flipping it over and covering the camera. As much fun as giving a wave would be, Danny had Opinions about people who brought bomb vests to parties.
Opinions that had only gotten significantly stronger now that he had a suspicion of how Jason had died.
Yeah. They were gonna talk. Before they got to the halfa training if possible, because… yeah. If Jason hadn’t seen his ghost form yet, that was gonna suck.
Maybe he should have Jazz on standby.
**
Tucking himself more firmly into his nook in the ceiling, Red Robin swore into the comms as bullets clipped past about a foot away.
“Fuck’s sake Nightwing, could you not swing by while you’re taking fire?” He grumbled, most of his attention still fixed on his wrist computer.
He had the stream, was almost through to Riddler’s actual location, if he could just…
He completely missed Nightwing’s reply as his computer beeped, letting him know that the tablet’s VPN had just shut down.
He had everything. Full access to all files, location tracking data for the last month, even the search history.
Everything he’d have been scraping for evidence when the dust settled and he got the device itself in hand, just… laid bare. It almost felt like cheating.
Sticking his head out far enough to get a visual, he searched desperately for the tablet. It had been up on the stage, but Riddler’s background ranting was suddenly gone…
Red Robin’s jaw dropped. Slowly rose again as he swallowed, reaching up to tap his comms.
“Danger Twink has the tablet.”
The connection fell dead silent, the entire group quieting even in their own independent fights.
Shaking himself, Red Robin closed his wrist computer. They weren’t done just yet.
“Nightwing, I’m now free to join the party. See if you can’t get the kid away from those goons while I round up some stragglers. Spoiler, Black Bat, report?”
**
In a hallway closer to the kitchens, Spoiler rolled her eyes and rolled off the last goon, tugging out another set of zip ties.
Black Bat was already up and scanning the area, but there were no more sounds of running feet.
“Wrapping up here. Ten presents for the fuzz all tied with a bow. Want us to come and join you?” She asked hopefully.
Of course she was still missing the good stuff. Jason’s new boyfriend was fucking great, they’d have to restrain Bruce from pulling out the bat-doption papers before the end of the night.
Given half a chance the kid would probably pull on a suit of spandex and join them with his sense of self preservation… or lack thereof.
If he could learn to be discrete in public.
Red Robin, of course, crushed all her hopes to dust.
“Hold on that. Robin, report?”
**
Robin tutted, ducking under a kick and darting in, catching the bulky man off balance and taking him to the floor. Half a dozen quick strikes landed before they hit and the teen rolled away.
His opponent didn’t get up. Not that he had time to savour the victory before he had to roll away again, now dodging a hail of bullets.
“I’ll be done before they can reach me. Seven down, five to go and all progress on the machine is halted. I believe they intended to connect it to the power grid, those cables are now severed.”
The easiest way to make sure whatever the thing was remained inert. He wouldn’t have a chance to examine past the smooth silver casing until these fools accepted the inevitable and went down.
Knowing Riddler, at least one side would contain a touch screen with some insipid riddle that a dedicated toddler could solve.
Pass. If the man wanted a battle of wits with the bats, he would need to arm himself first.
And teach his men not to shoot at his own machines.
Taking cover briefly behind the case, Robin took a moment to assess the room. The remaining goons had all taken cover, and spread out too.
Inconvenient.
Almost worse than Red Robin’s patronising tones.
“Start the clock then Robin. Spoiler, see if you can’t prove him wrong. Signal?”
**
Signal sighed, rolling out his shoulders and flexing his shadows. They called him out of bed, then left him running around outside while they had all the fun.
“Area’s clear. If Two Face was planning something he’s scrapped it now. I found some skid marks but no clear tire prints.”
He dropped a pin on the location anyway; he or Oracle could check traffic cameras for the area later. Right now Bluebird was putting Oracle through her paces with a major chase across the city.
One day he’d kind of like to do a car chase. Changing the traffic lights, skidding round corners, running the bad guys down. That’d be cool.
He brightened up suddenly, remembering the agenda for tonight.
“Hey, want me to come in and get your civvies to safety RR?” If Nightwing was busy with goons…
**
“Not needed bud, sorry!” Nightwing called happily, dropping down from a pillar in front of the last gunman standing and kicking his gun away, jabbing Manson’s taser into his chest.
The guy jolted in a very satisfying way, interesting sparks sizzling across his skin. His escrima sticks wouldn’t do that.
And he finally got close enough to use it. With all the goons focused on him, it had been easy for Red Robin to take them by surprise.
A set of batarangs from behind, a couple bolas, and the only guns around were on the floor.
Which meant that all they had to worry about now was the three goons wrestling Jason, and Killer Croc himself.
Nightwing was kinda hoping he’d get the chance to take care of Croc. Their normal tasers didn’t work as well on his scaled skin, but they eventually got the point across.
This thing? Maybe he’d need to borrow it.
As Dick. Better make sure Manson didn’t see him using it in costume.
Which also meant not using it on Croc. Sighing to himself, Nightwing stuffed it back into a belt pouch and turned to survey the room.
At least all their remaining bad guys were now clumped together, up at the stage. Two of the goons were bleeding now, one from a broken nose and the other…
Fuck, did Jason bite a guy? Maybe he should have been watching that side of the action.
Any musing quickly shut itself down as Croc surveyed the room, bomb vest in one hand and Bruce Wayne in the other.
By the front of his shirt, not his neck, but then Bruce wouldn’t have put up a fight. Nightwing’s gaze immediately darted around, searching for the danger twink.
He’d focused on taking down the goons on the way to the kid because the opportunity arose, but he had this feeling that Danny Fenton was someone you always wanted an eye on.
**
“Fuckin’ useless,” Croc growled, scanning the room quickly and shaking his head. He might as well have come alone.
The last three of Riddler’s goons, still all needed to keep a struggling Jason restrained, were growing increasingly nervous.
The gunfire should have drawn the others in. At the very least someone should have called. And now they’d lost contact with Riddler too.
Danny was quite enjoying their confusion, the tablet now safely tucked in under his shirt. Whatever opinions Riddler might have about his bellybutton were his alone.
An eerie silence fell now that the gunfire had stopped, the hall that had once been buzzing with conversation now holding its breath.
Nightwing and Red Robin were both there, moving slowly, cautiously towards the stage. Having seen the Wayne family’s heights, Danny was gonna start playing guess the bat.
Red Robin? Had to be Tim. Too tall for Damian, too short for Dick, and coincidentally Nightwing was a good bit taller than Red Robin too.
The dominos made the faces harder to recognise but the way they exchanged a glance, still wary of approaching too closely? That was very familiar.
Danny just hoped that Bruce had managed to do something with the damn vest in those few seconds while he’d distracted Killer Croc.
It was now waaaay too close to Jason for Danny’s liking, even if the odds of getting it actually on him were pretty near zero. Not unless Croc dropped Bruce anyway.
He really didn’t wanna have to ectoblast anyone. That’d be a real awkward conversation, and even Jason didn’t know the extent of his powers yet. He deserved the chance to find out first.
Croc seemed to have come to the same conclusion about the vest though, because he held up his hostage in one hand and brought the vest closer to Bruce instead.
“Right, you two back off or the lot of us go up, alright?” He growled, visibly annoyed by the turn of events.
Danny had to guess he’d expected they’d have a little longer before a full bat attack. Hell, maybe the bats usually waited until setup finished.
There was no way to be sure. There was just so much cat and mouse in Gotham, so much emphasis on plans and backups and understanding.
Danny simply could not. He would just die (again) if he had to sit around and wait to see what his rogues were doing before they struck.
Luckily, they seemed to feel the same, because usually they barrelled out of the portal and made a beeline for him, their goal, or both. There might be plotting in the zone, but that was never Danny’s problem.
Fucking Vlad was the notable exception, and Danny was delighted to see that the man was visibly fuming. Arms folded, scowly pout, like he’d just had his own plot foiled.
Whether because Danny very pointedly had not rescued him or the bats had shown up, Danny neither knew nor cared. It did wonders for his mood.
That and the ongoing warmth from Jason, who seemed to be trying not to laugh. Danny picked out a momentary regret that they hadn’t had time for Sam to get herself “captured” for the bit.
There was still time.
Nightwing and Red Robin had stopped in their advance, apparently to reason with Croc. Apparently his scales were not actually explosion proof, which made his last bid for control a little desperate.
Danny wasn’t actually listening, looking around hurriedly til he caught Sam’s eye. As a liminal she couldn’t quite hit the same intricacies of empathic messaging, but it didn’t matter.
They’d known each other long enough, through enough, that all it took was a look. A suggestive waggle of his brows.
Sam grinned back, hand diving into her hidden pockets again. She had something fun. Now all they needed was a distraction.
Or just an opportunity.
Quietly, innocuously, he scooched himself around behind Croc and readied to spring.
**
Vlad was aware that it was beneath his dignity to sulk. However, he was currently in the ass end of New Jersey, at a shoddy gala with people who were perfectly happy with armed criminals, but not an ill timed comment.
If they wished to shun him like school children, he would allow himself a brief sulk. Even in their little group on the floor, they had contrived to separate themselves from him.
All the better.
These reprehensible fools had apparently attacked the gala without any sort of plan, provided no challenge to a pair of almost-children in masks, and achieved nothing.
Daniel hadn’t even bothered changing to deal with the big one. Just jumped on him like some sort of animal.
The fact that it had worked only made matters worse.
It wasn’t that Vlad wanted to be the blushing heroine of a trashy novel. He hadn’t intended to fall into Daniel’s arms, or anything of the sort.
Even if Daniel was an adult now, Vlad thought of him as a son. And perhaps that was all he’d hoped for… recognition of the bond between them.
It was perfectly fair that Daniel had suspected his involvement, no matter how long it had been since Vlad had inconvenienced him with a harebrained scheme. He was well aware he’d earned his reputation.
But it would have been nice if the boy had cared. Had been even remotely concerned once he knew Vlad was innocent.
But no. The second he knew Vlad wasn’t involved, it was like he didn’t exist. Just left him to the mercies of the goons and these bats.
Vlad might be reasonably bullet proof but that didn’t mean his feelings were.
If Bruce Wayne got himself killed he would raze this city to the ground.
**
All of the bats had tensed when Killer Croc’s demands came over the comms. Red Robin flicked open a secondary channel for them, a single murmured message coming through.
“Backup in the dining hall. Croc has Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, and a bomb.”
Even the usual flow of argument and commentary was put on hold.
The remaining goons had been restrained. With Red Robin’s intel, Batwoman was on her way to where Riddler had been broadcasting from.
Whether he’d still be there or have cut his losses, no one knew. The video call was still open but not doing much.
“We didn’t even get a riddle,” Spoiler grumbled, and Black Bat half smiled behind her mask.
She was back above the dining room, creeping through towards the chandelier’s maintenance hatch. Spoiler had left it open behind her, and it was a simple matter to find herself an overhead perch without being spotted.
Nightwing was mainlining the negotiation, his comms still open for the rest of the bats to hear how talking Killer Croc down was going.
Spoiler alert (a phrase she’d heard from Tim and would be keeping forever): not well. Croc might not be bomb proof, but he also knew they weren’t going to risk the explosion.
What they needed was an opportunity. Something to distract him enough that one of them could get close enough to strike.
While Croc held the cards, the three goons still struggling to restrain Jason were looking into the shadows erratically enough to make it hard for her to get close.
They didn’t seem to like the vest being waved around either, but they probably weren’t going to break ranks. More’s the pity.
But Jason wouldn’t be able to act directly anyway. Although… Danny had already tackled Croc once.
Her gaze darted around, looking for where the kid had gone now. Croc had tossed him, and… and he was coming back for more.
Yeah, she liked him. And he was significantly closer to Croc than the rest of them could get, while being mostly overlooked.
She had to guess he wasn’t an active vigilante anymore, or he didn’t worry about a secret identity. Vlad looked more sullen than surprised by what had happened, so she’d guess he already knew.
And if Danny’s evil billionaire knew who he was that could explain his complete lack of caution. Something to ask about later, anyway. For now she tapped her comm.
“Above. Danger Twink is in position behind.”
Neither Nightwing nor Red Robin could respond verbally, not with Killer Croc’s attention wholly focused on them, but she could see Nightwing’s lips twitch. He inclined his head slightly, hand folding and flexing into a brief ‘yes’.
Confirmed. He had noticed Danny creeping up as well.
“Distraction?” She asked softly, shifting about on her perch. She couldn’t get down any lower without giving herself away. They would have too much time to react from this height.
She could swing down in a blaze of glory and give someone else a chance to strike.
Before either of her older brothers could respond, Signal tapped in and she saw an unnatural flicker of shadows at a window. Left of Killer Croc’s position, from Nightwing and Red Robin’s perspective.
“Uh… guys, I’m in position outside the window, but something’s fucked. Robin, you sure that machine didn’t activate?” He sounded tense, and Black Bat tensed along with him.
Had they all missed something? Or were they inside the machine’s effects?
Robin only sounded annoyed though, a dull thudding accompanying his voice.
“I am currently sat on the machine while Spoiler restrains the last fool. It has no power, is producing no detectable energy or wave, and the screen is blank.”
He’d probably kicked it to make the noise.
Black Bat’s brows furrowed. Too many questions. And not only hers; for once Spoiler was all business, even if her voice was a little strained.
“Describe what you’re seeing, Signal. We know there’s one potential villain in the building beyond our rogues, and Two Face may have left an early surprise.”
Signal still sounded worried, and she couldn’t quite make out where he’d gone. Not good.
“That’s actually kinda the problem… I didn’t notice til I came to the window, but I can’t see a thing inside. It’s just blinding light like I’m staring into the sun, and I can’t do a thing with it. Lemme try something else…”
The shadows just inside the windows began to shift and Black Bat hissed, tapping her comm again. It was nothing the others should notice yet, but Croc might catch it from the corner of his eye.
“Signal, stop. Shadows moving, Croc directly ahead, may see.”
The shadows stilled at once, Signal’s sigh of relief a little odd in contrast, but she figured she understood. At least his abilities still worked inside the hall.
But what would be blocking his vision?
“Could this be a Signal-specific countermeasure?” Spoiler asked tensely. It sounded like she was on the move again. Probably Robin too.
“Or it is Fenton,” Robin put in darkly, confirming Black Bat’s suspicions a second later, “we are on our way.”
“Fenton?” Signal asked, sounding confused. “How would he be blocking me?”
“We do not know the extent of his meta abilities,” Robin explained tersely.
Spoiler’s eyeroll was easily audible. She had a gift that way, and usually it made Black Bat smile. Today, she was worried.
“First you thought he teleported, then we hear super strength, now light fuckery? What’s next? Laser eyes and flight? He’s not Kryptonian.”
“Probably,” Black Bat added, lips quirking just a little at her own joke. Spoiler at least chuckled, shaking her head.
“Look, what we need to decide is if we’re letting him take another run at Killer Croc before he takes the question out of our hands. Does anyone else have a way to get the bomb off him?”
A resounding silence answered, even Nightwing and Red Robin hesitating their negotiations. Croc was, if nothing else, stubborn.
He only wanted Harvey Dent. Not even a way out. Not that they’d have let him go, of course. Something had brought him back to town and they had to know what.
“Right.” Spoiler sounded firm now, and Black Bat settled. The easiest way to solve the mystery of Danny’s powers would be to ask him.
Privately.
Not tonight. All else being equal, Black Bat still thought he wasn’t a threat. He was a good kid, tough if he’d already gone a round with Killer Croc and wanted another.
Frowning down, she cocked her head slightly. Her perch was as close to above Croc as it could be, and she couldn’t quite see where Danny was looking.
“He is waiting for something. He needs a distraction,” she concluded, frowning down at tensely set muscles. Coiled to spring, just like her.
If the others were surprised she’d pulled full sentences out, it didn’t show. She could hear the smile in Spoiler’s voice.
“Then let’s give him one. Bat, Signal, bring the noise. Red, Nightwing, you’re on Danger Twink watch. Get in and get him out ASAP. Croc won’t go down easy, but we should be in to assist in five.”
“Tt. Three,” Robin corrected derisively and Spoiler snickered. Minor bickering aside, they switched easily as a unit from Red Robin’s command to hers.
It felt good to be a part of something. Something strong, but also something close.
“Black Bat, when you’re ready, count it down. Time to put that window practice into action, Signal,” Spoiler declared, and Black Bat sent two quick taps back.
An affirmative. One last scan of the hall, checking for anything else she might have missed, and she noticed that Sam was also tensed.
Further back than both Nightwing and Red Robin, she was far enough from the action to be safe. But what was she waiting for?
Probably the inevitable. It was that kind of night.
They’d had the “on three or three and then go” argument about a hundred times by now, and from Cass’s experience they’d had it every single time someone new joined the family.
Signal had had his, and currently they were settled on “on three”, so she shifted into a readied position and began the quiet count.
“One. Two. Three.” And she dropped.
**
Glass shattered. A third bat dropped from the ceiling, a descending mass of black as the bright yellow form of Signal burst into the room.
Croc roared at both, grip tightening on the bomb vest.
Samantha Manson rose like an avenging angel, leapt from the middle of her group, and threw a large and heavy thermos directly at…
Well. She might have been throwing it at Killer Croc. But she definitely hit Bruce Wayne square in the head as the big guy pulled him in.
The thermos clunked off his skull, pinwheeling away and for a heartbeat Nightwing was a little disappointed. And then it landed perfectly in a familiar hand and Danny whacked Killer Croc upside the head with it.
He didn’t have the same momentum as his first leap, didn’t take the guy all the way to the ground with him, but he put everything he had into that strike.
And landed like a koala, clinging to his shoulders, which definitely also helped as Killer Croc stumbled forwards, his grip weakening.
Bruce fell away and Nightwing spent a moment feeling kinda bad for the guy. That thermos must have been solidly built, there wasn’t a dent on it as Danny gave Killer Croc another resounding smack.
Nightwing and Red Robin were already moving in even as shadows sprang up around the three goons holding Jason. They went down together, Jason struggling free.
His eyes snapped to Nightwing’s, past him, and then suddenly he was charging. For half a second Dick held his breath.
No green in his eyes. It was just Jason.
And then he was past and Nightwing swore, spinning as Black Bat and Red Robin joined the fight with Killer Croc.
Jason had seen something, and might need backup.
The urge to laugh very nearly had him breaking character. But these were civilians; he had to pretend to be concerned.
Sam had fucking landed on one of Riddler’s goons. Not one of the ones he’d tied down already, and an almost unconscious hand had grabbed her ankle. Probably just a reflex.
It was probably the irritation at being benched that had Jason stamping firmly down on that wrist as he snatched Sam into the air. The hand nearly fell away on its own.
The long folds of her dress draped around him, covering him in purple bows as well, and the crowd audibly gasped.
Nightwing took a quick glance back at the Croc fight. Signal had Jason’s three former goons covered, and Black Bat and Red Robin had joined Danny with Killer Croc.
Red Robin was trying to coax Danny back out of the fight to give Black Bat a little more freedom to move, but the kid looked like he was having fun.
The heavy hits and numbers were beginning to tell on Croc too, along with the loss of his leverage. He was slowing, his swipes less aggressive and while his teeth were bared, he wasn’t biting.
It wouldn’t be long til he gave it up. It’d be hard enough to get away with only two bats on his tail, if Spoiler and Robin arrived he wouldn’t have a chance.
Whether he knew they were there or not, he was clearly considering it, head beginning to tick towards the window.
Nightwing took it all in in a split second, and headed after Jason.
“Going for the civilians, you guys good if I start on wrap up?” He called, skidding to a stop on his knees and cuffing the softly whimpering goon.
Red Robin gave him a stream of invective that probably meant “no you fuck get back here”, but Killer Croc caught him just below the gut and tossed him backwards.
Putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder, Nightwing turned him quickly and pushed him towards the wall.
“Stay away from the downed bodies and take cover,” he ordered and Jason’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he nodded.
Yeah, he’d hear about that later. Worth it.
And it meant Jason got to princess carry a conspicuously unprotesting Sam, which could only be a good thing.
Turning back to the fight, Nightwing rolled his shoulders and grinned. Looked like Croc was still giving them the runaround. And Danny was still in the thick of things. Still on Croc’s shoulders.
Signal had finished gift wrapping his thugs and seemed torn between trying to help and keeping out of range. Maybe he was still having trouble seeing.
“So, do you guys need me over there? Cuz I saw a table of champagne glasses in the other room that weren’t tipped over and I could use a drink,” Nightwing teased, watching Signal’s lips tug into a reluctant grin.
Red Robin managed to flip him off, ducking under another strike.
“If you’re on fucking civilian duty come and get this fucking civilian,” he yelled, not even bothering with the comms anymore.
“Hey, I’m fine!” Danny protested loudly, hooking a foot into Croc’s elbow to pull a swing short, making the big guy swear loudly.
“Yer all fuckin’ annoying,” Croc growled, making another reach back with his other arm to try and dislodge Danny. Who ducked down, but didn’t lose his grip.
Black Bat took advantage of the opening to close in low, striking several pressure points across Killer Croc’s chest and forcing him to take a step back.
Behind Nightwing, the doors burst open to admit Spoiler and Robin. Croc hesitated again, then sighed and sat heavily on the ground.
“You’ll have fuckin’ scared him off now,” he grumbled as Red Robin and Black Bat shifted warily to flank him.
Pretty sure Two Face woulda been scared off before the broken windows, Nightwing sauntered casually over and helped Danny off Croc’s shoulders.
“Civilian acquired,” he told Red Robin cheerfully, grinning wider as the younger vigilante groaned.
Danny grinned back up at him, looking around.
“Thanks for the assist, Nightwing, I don’t know what we’d ever have done without you,” he cooed, and Black Bat snickered.
Robin and Spoiler were making their way through the felled goons, tying up any that had just been knocked out and beginning to drag them to a pile in front of the stage.
The remaining hostages, guests and staff combined were getting to their feet now, beginning to chatter amongst themselves again.
Spoiler made it a point to collect the pillowcases of valuables, lest someone try and reclaim something that didn’t belong to them.
It was almost routine at this point and Nightwing felt his shoulders settling as a gentle buzz of conversation filled the room once more. Beside him, Danny stretched.
“Anyway, did anyone see where my date went?” He asked brightly, looking around the hall.
A light went on in Nightwing’s head. This… would be essentially the perfect moment for closet time.
Glancing around, he caught sight of Jason and Sam, about where he’d left them. He pointed Danny their way and gave him a gentle nudge.
“Back in the corner there. She looks fine,” he added innocently, aware of the not so subtle eavesdroppers to their conversation.
Danny grinned up at him and headed off in that direction with a cheerful wave.
“Better check anyway. You never know.”
“Hey, wait!” Spoiler called, jogging up to join them with a frown on her face, “You should get checked for injuries!”
Danny sped up if anything, waving to her too.
“Nah I’m fine, not a scratch!” Which might well be a fucking lie, but Nightwing was willing to let that wait for now, tucking Spoiler in close.
“Pretty sure Jason’s about to give him a pretty thorough once over in a closet,” he whispered, and was a little surprised when she just rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, and he’s not supposed to know we know that,” she whispered back but let it drop.
Unable to argue with the indisputable truth of that, Nightwing shrugged and turned back towards Signal.
“At least a couple of us should be out of uniform anyway, so we aren’t missed,” he subvocalised over comms. He got three taps back, and saw Black Bat melt away.
Fuck.
“Tell Sam I found you,” he added in a hiss, keeping the smile on his face. He didn’t need to test out the big taser personally.
Another tap and he was at Signal’s side, announcing himself with a gentle hand on the younger vigilante’s shoulder. He still seemed a little disoriented.
“You okay kid?” He asked quietly, frowning as Signal shook himself. Maybe it was for the best that he hadn’t been directly tangling with a rogue.
He gave Nightwing a slightly sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah, I’m just still kinda seeing stars… it got a little better now that I’m inside, but it still feels like someone turned the brightness up on my eyeballs.”
Nightwing made a face, giving him a careful pat on the back. That did not sound fun.
“Do you have any better idea what’s causing it?” He asked hopefully, glancing around. The broken windows meant it probably wasn’t something that had been done to the glass, but didn’t narrow things down much.
“Tt. It is obviously the presence of the other meta,” Robin cut in impatiently, arms folded as he glared up at them.
Nightwing glanced down, shifting automatically to give him space to join them. As much as Damian loved to sneak around, the others had kinda gotten used to it.
Overexposure. That’s why Dick usually telegraphed his presence as loudly as possible; it made people more likely to think quiet meant he wasn’t there.
Signal frowned, head tilting as he looked around the room. Even with his eyes hidden behind the domino, Nightwing figured he was checking for brighter spots.
“Maybe? But I haven’t seen anything like it before. It’s not coming from any specific person,” he explained slowly, scanning all the guests.
Paused, brows furrowing further. But Nightwing had an idea, tossing an arm around his shoulders.
“Hey, stick around for the turnover to the cops and we’ll see if we can’t get you a chance to talk to the kid in person. Give you a chance for a better read.”
Signal hesitated a moment longer, then nodded, shifting his focus to the two of them.
“Yeah, probably a good idea…” his voice trailed off and he shook his head a couple times, then raised a hand to rub at his temples. “Alright, that’s really fucking weird. It’s just gone.”
Something tickled up the back of Nightwing’s spine and he did his own quick sharp scan of the room. Jason and Danny were gone.
**
“Y’know, after all this excitement someone might be tempted to call the rest of the gala quiet,” Jason remarked with a soft chuckle, following Danny from the dining room to the main hall.
Danny shot him a wicked grin over one shoulder other hand checking a likely door.
“Why, were you hoping for a quiet night?” He teased and Jason grinned, shaking his head.
“And miss Sam’s well earned explosion? No fuckin’ way. Hang on, there’s a closet a little further down that’ll be a little easier to get discovered in,” he said quickly, pulling ahead to lead Danny to another, more obvious door that was visible from the main hall.
“Oh, do the others have their party clothes hidden in the other one?“ Danny asked with a smirk, clearly enjoying the way Jason’s step stuttered for a moment.
It was Jason’s turn to look back, a long, slow look was much more calculating. Assessing. Danny just shrugged.
“I’m not saying anything to anyone. Wild coincidence how many of your siblings have been touched by death though. Almost as many as the Gotham vigilantes.”
He might not have guessed by that alone-alone (Gotham was a dangerous city), but it wasn’t like Jason would know to call him on it. This might be his Robin reveal biting him in the ass.
Still, it wasn’t like Danny wouldn’t meet Bruce and Batman eventually. His family were nosey shits - tonight proved that. Better that Danny knew what he was dealing with.
Stomping the part of him that felt bad firmly down, Jason tugged Danny into a broom closet barely big enough to hold them.
Not like the bats would feel bad about sticking their noses in, and it’s not like he’d told Danny. Danny worked it out himself.
Not like they’d have had a chance in hell of hiding it if the Ghost King really could sense everyone who’d died. It wasn’t gonna be the biggest news on any day of the week that involved Danny.
Danny was still watching him, the faintest brush of amused-concerned-we good? sliding across his senses. Jason snickered and reached out to ruffle his hair.
“Yeah, there’s probably at least one set of party clothes back there. But they’re not the ones we want walking in on us, right?” He asked, pulling the door carefully almost shut behind them.
Danny settled, grin broadening again as he reached up to ruffle Jason’s hair back.
“Not that I don’t think they’re dramatic enough, but it’s way less suspicious if we’re exposed to all and sundry,” he agreed with a much too charming wink, and set about unbuttoning his shirt.
Jason hesitated for the barest second more, calculating again… but this time for a much better reason. His own little imp of mischief raised its head.
“Think anyone would notice if we swapped ties?” He asked with a sudden grin, tugging his blue tie loose. Loved the way Danny’s face lit up with manic glee as he tugged his own off and tossed it over.
“They’re not the exact same colour but close enough if we were “distracted”,” he agreed with a cackle, taking Jason’s tie and stuffing it into his jacket pocket.
Jason hooked Danny’s over a mop and began working at his own buttons. Stopped. He could undo them nice and neat. He could also…
He wasn’t against flashing a little skin for the rest of the evening.
Taking both sides of the shirt in hand, he yanked hard enough that Danny had to dodge a button shooting out at him. And abandon his own undressing to clap both hands over his mouth against laughter.
“Did you just fucking rip your shirt open like a caveman?!” He hissed in delighted glee once the giggles subsided. Jason smirked, completely sure the impressed look in his eyes was real.
Nothing else there to see, right?
“Not according to anyone else at this party, there’s not a soul in that room that won’t believe you ripped it off me after that display,” he pointed out smugly, and Danny had to stifle a cackle by shoving most of his fist in his mouth.
It felt good to be actively doing something after being sidelined for the entire attack. Good to see any traces of that worry, of that all too familiar burning rage in Danny’s face.
No one else should ever have to feel like that. Not for Jason.
Now, laughing until he couldn’t breathe and had to sag against Jason’s chest for support? That he was extremely comfortable with.
Steadying his shaking king, Jason hummed thoughtfully and ran his hands through Danny’s hair a few more times. It was already wild and unruly, so the step from there to sex hair wasn’t all that far.
Danny gave him a gentle jab with his elbow before straightening, tugging his own shirt open with nary a care for the last two buttons. Then he paused, reaching for his belt.
“So how far are you comfortable with this going?” He asked innocently, too innocently. In that sweet, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth tone Jason had already learned to suspect.
If Jason Todd had one weakness, he’d never backed down from a dare in his life. Why start now.
“I’ve never seen anyone arrested at a gala for indecent exposure,” he replied in his own best innocent voice, the one used when Bruce caught him hiding the bodies.
Danny snickered and pulled his belt off, kicking his trousers… yep, all the way down and off his legs, and in case any of his nosey bastard siblings were curious the boxers or briefs question was answered.
Not that any of them would be surprised, given the cut of Danny’s pants. Briefs today at least, but Jason very deliberately was not going to speculate.
“You don’t have to match,” Danny assured him quickly, still grinning as he picked up his pants to hang them artfully over an upturned bucket, “can’t have the man of the hour kicked out of his own party.”
Suddenly the closet felt a lot smaller. A lot warmer. A lot harder to breathe. Because. Yeah. That’s what they were doing.
They were staging a fucking sex scene, on their third hangout in their lives, and Danny had fucking said that.
Even the heady knot of tension suddenly in Jason’s gut couldn’t stand a chance against the wave of snickering.
It gave him a moment of distance, to catch his breath and remember why they were doing this, and tug his own belt open. Unbutton his pants, mind very firmly fixed on Bruce’s reaction.
“Danny, never fucking say that to me again unless you want me to streak through this hall,” he said as seriously as he could, loving the way Danny’s eyes darted down and then back up to his face.
He would love absolutely nothing more than to get kicked out of his own party… any night but tonight. Tonight, he had no fucking intention of missing out on Sam going nuclear.
Snickering to himself, Danny nodded and took a moment to survey his own state of deshabille.
“Noted. Oh, and there’s this one trick Sam taught me to make it look like we’ve actually been making out,” he added quickly, grinning up at Jason.
Whose cheeks just might have pinked a little bit with the suggestion, gaze tracking straight down to Danny’s lips for reasons which had nothing to do with a trick.
What would Danny taste like? Could he taste sarcasm and bad puns?
Danny didn’t seem to notice, biting down on his lower lip and letting it drag out slowly between his teeth. If Jason was a stronger man he’d have looked away, but just…
Watching that soft, pink lower lip beginning to redden and flush at the pressure, and holy fuck it did look almost kiss swollen. Jason bit down on his own lower lip without meaning to, pushing down a longing sigh.
Startled when Danny snickered and reached up to poke just below his lip.
“You’ve gotta pull it through too, you can’t just bite it,” he teased gently, bringing Jason back to what they were actually doing.
And, fuck it, being a little flushed would help the illusion. He obediently pulled his lower lip free, slowly and with just enough pressure to get it really red.
Danny’s eyes, already on his mouth, lingered for a moment, and Jason did it again just to see his reaction. Were his cheeks pinking up too?
And then the absurdity set in, and Jason snickered too.
They were fucking stood almost chest to chest in a closet, the rising hum of conversation behind them indicating the hall filling up, biting their own lips.
What was his fucking life?
He bit down on his upper lip a couple times too, and that pretty much broke Danny into silent giggles. Jason flipped him off, grinning back.
“Fuck you, you’ve gotta do both it’s not like you only make out with your lower lip,” he hissed and Danny’s shoulders shook, but he was clearly convinced because he did it too.
And yeah, that wasn’t nearly as sexy to watch. Just funny, bringing back the reality of what they were doing. What they wanted.
It definitely worked. Danny looked thoroughly debauched now, hair tousled, lips red and kiss stained and wet where he poked his tongue out to wet them, clothes tugged all over the place.
Jason tried to ignore it, to focus on the logistics. If they wanted a convincing sex scene… if Danny bent over Jason wouldn’t have to see that pretty face anymore, but nor would anyone else.
And there really wasn’t room in the closet. Danny must have twigged to the problem too because he snapped his own eyes from Jason’s face and frowned around their tiny space.
And yeah, he was definitely a little redder. Probably on purpose. Completing the illusion. For sure.
Then he looked back at Jason and grinned.
“I have an idea, but it’s gonna make some noise. You about ready to be discovered?” He asked, waggling his eyebrows lasciviously.
Jason snickered, glancing back towards the door for a moment then nodding. He had an idea by now. Danny seemed to have a preferred move.
“Yeah, I’m good. Do I need to catch you?”
And this smile was one he hadn’t really seen before, soft and fond and filled with undeniable warmth.
“You fuckin’ get me Jason,” Danny sighed happily, then jumped up and locked his legs around Jason’s waist. Kicked a bucket on the way up.
Jason’s hands flew to catch him automatically, and yup, he definitely had two handfuls of Danny’s ass. Only briefs keeping it from being skin to skin.
But this was the goddamn plan, Jason reminded himself, finally having to look up into Danny’s face. Felt better when he saw that Danny was blushing too, and staring.
Yeah, they were both in it now.
Jason did his best to keep his hands as professional as possible while holding Danny’s butt.
“This okay?” He asked a little belatedly. Danny visibly snapped himself back, shuffled a bit in Jason’s grip, and grinned again.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna drop me,” he agreed, draping his arms over Jason’s shoulders. Squeezed a little tighter, pulling in until their mouths almost touched, and hissed, “door.”
Jason almost turned, almost tensed, and forced himself not to as the door pushed open. Breathing heavily was not difficult, but made it harder to hear…
The door had stopped moving. A heartbeat of silence, Danny and Jason suddenly realized they should be moving, and then a very familiar chuckle.
“Oh, is it that time already?” Selina purred, her body blocking most of the light from the hall. She surveyed their positioning in a flash, nodded. “Stuff your fingers in his mouth, Jason darling, you might as well pretend you’re doing a good job.”
Jason barely had time to move, hand coming up automatically and conveniently cutting off Danny’s snort of laughter. And Selina screamed and spun away, “accidentally” pushing the door open wider.
They weren’t quite exposed to the whole hall, but the angle was clear enough for more than a dozen guests to look in.
A few more drifted over as Jason swore loudly, twisting to grab for the door and “accidentally” show off a little more of their tableau, pushing it closed.
He let Danny drop down after the door was shut, the smaller man’s shoulders once again shaking with laughter. Jason grinned down at him, tugging his shirt back into place.
“So do we let them think I’m finishing you off or just get back out there?” He whispered over a renewed and much louder buzz of conversation.
And much closer. Someone else might come for a look.
Letting Sam walk in on them directly was real fucking tempting.
But Danny shook his head, still snickering as he pulled his shirt closed too.
“Better get back out there, I don’t want to miss any of the fireworks. As much fun as “finishing it off” would be,” he added with a snicker, pulling out Jason’s tie and fastening it sloppily around his neck, “I should go grovel.”
“We should,” Jason agreed with a snicker and nodded, doing up the buttons he had left. He didn’t want to miss the show either.
Danny paused though, looking around their closet as Jason tied Danny’s tie on, settling his jacket and closing his pants.
“Jason…” There was something a little strange in Danny’s voice now, something that made Jason frown as he turned back.
“What? Shouldn’t you be dressed?” He asked, and Danny shook his head, an awed grin spreading across his face.
“Yeah, about that. I think your step mom stole my pants?” He said it like he couldn’t quite believe it, which was fair, because Jason definitely didn’t believe he was hearing it.
“What?” He cast around quickly, and sure enough… Danny’s pants were nowhere to be seen.
Of fucking course she did. Why wouldn’t she.
“I didn’t really see her in the dining hall either,” Danny mused, something clearly dawning on him.
Something bright and wonderful and Jason really should worry a lot more about how Danny was putting things together.
“Jason…” Danny shook his head slowly, then grinned up at the taller man, eyes bright with laughter. “Is your step mom Catwoman? Legally you have to tell me or it’s entrapment.”
Snorting most of a laugh through his nose, Jason shook his head. If she didn’t want to be outed, she shouldn’t have stolen a man’s pants.
“Yeah, that was Catwoman,” he agreed, raising both his hands in surrender as Danny pointed menacingly at him. “I didn’t make her do it!”
Luckily Danny definitely saw the funny side too, snickering as he leaned back against one of the shelves. Was attacked by a bucket. Fought it to a standstill and gave up on shoving it back into place.
“You’re the one who has to go get me replacement pants!” He argued almost a full minute later, like there hadn’t been a pause.
If Jason hadn’t spent years not laughing at Dick’s bullshit on patrol… but no, he kept an excellent poker face thank you very much.
And Danny had a point.
“Yeah, okay,” he agreed, turning back towards the closet door and wondering what kind of expression he should put on for the people outside.
Embarrassed? Danny’s pants were literally fucking missing. Hopefully they’d be just outside the door, but what if they weren’t?
If Jason had an imp of mischief in him, Selina had all of the Hells, complete with devils. She might have kept them.
Before it came up though, the door was pushed open again and Jason moved automatically to shield Danny from view. He might as well also pretend to be chivalrous.
But it was just Cass, back in her own suit and looking distinctly amused.
With Danny’s pants.
‘Found these,’ she signed, passing them over with her right hand. Stifling a snicker, Jason took them and nodded.
“Thanks Cass. We’ll be right out,” he told her, turning back to Danny as she closed the door.
Pressing his lips firmly together, Danny couldn’t quite hide a smile.
“Convenient.” He said shortly and Jason grinned. Tossed his pants at him.
“Hey, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. She probably robbed Selina to get them.”
Already pulling his pants back on, Danny frowned.
“Hey, she didn’t get my belt back…” Then he shrugged. “But Sam’s parents paid for it. So does that mean the Aunt Harley she said she texted…”
He trailed off suggestively, and Jason blinked, taking a second to track when the “she” shifted. Ah. Selina. He grinned.
“Yeah, she texted Harley Quinn. She’s sort of an unofficial member of the family now so even if Sam didn’t give him a concussion, Bruce may not survive the night,” he joked, then nodded to the door. “You ready?”
Danny took a moment to double check, tucking his shirt back in and straightening jacket and tie. Reached up to pat his hair and then obviously decided to leave it.
“Yeah, I’m good. Hey if anyone asks, do we tell them we finished?” He asked, clearly half joking.
Jason smirked, pulling the door open and slipping out.
“If they ask you, I did. If they ask me, you did.”
Still snickering, Danny followed him back into the limelight.
“Great.”
**
Pamela Manson was having the best gala of her life. Her dear little Sam had finally found herself a decent young man, from a good family, and they were getting along just swimmingly.
Oh, Sammy had fussed at first, she was always so loyal, but Pam could see her little girl warming up to young Jason.
It would have been best if they could have escaped notice during that tiresome rogue attack, but she hadn’t been able to reach her daughter before they were pulled into groups.
At least it didn’t seem to have put the boy off. He seemed to be quite the fighter too, it had taken three of those dull and muscly people to pull him around.
Perhaps he liked that Sam wasn’t the kind of girl who would sit around waiting for rescue. Oh, Pam would like that.
As much as she didn’t understand most of what Sammy said and did, Pam wanted her little girl to be happy. And while she still held out hope that this “goth” phase would end, Sam would never be a delicate flower.
All they needed was the kind of young man who could appreciate that, and maybe help guide her interests to something more acceptable than all those protests and demonstrations.
Yes, Jason Todd-Wayne might just be the best thing to ever happen to her family. Brucie was even Jewish too, and while no one had told her if Jason was (and the Mansons were hardly orthodox), it would be so nice not to have to explain all of their holidays.
They might even be able to hold the wedding in a synagogue.
Pamela wasn’t much of a traditionalist, not for the ones that weren’t a display of status at least, but she had quietly resigned herself to Sam having some courthouse wedding, or even eloping.
That awful Fenton boy would only encourage it. Honestly, she might have preferred if Sam had brought along that Valerie. Jason had plenty of attractive siblings and Val was clearly a social climber.
But now that Sam had met Jason…
Perhaps if Brucie could be persuaded, they could find somewhere nice out of Gotham and Amity Park both… but Sam did so love the gothic architecture. If it got her in a synagogue, Pam was prepared to compromise.
It wasn’t like a decent rabbi would marry her in some horrible black or spider covered gown. She would meet in the middle for her little girl’s happiness.
She was just looking around for Brucie again (poor man, he’d been through so much, perhaps a little motherly affection would do him some good too) when she heard someone scream.
Surely not another rogue already, the bats hadn’t even left yet?
**
Sam hated galas. Every single one, with a fiery burning passion. The fake smiles, empty headed aristocrats, and mind numbing conversation made her want to puke.
But her parents loved them. Were all about the image of “happy family perfection”, all about the fake smiles and lies. They loved images.
She could give them an image to hold onto forever.
She was being Conspicuously Alone by the quickly resurrected drinks table now, trying to persuade the bar staff to unionize. There was no way they were being paid enough for all these constant attacks.
They didn’t even get dental. Most of them weren’t even full time, AND they bought their own uniforms. It was a disgrace.
Danny and Jason had disappeared together, so really all she had to do was kill time and wait. Let people see her alone, let them wonder how long she’d been alone.
Her mom was off bothering Brucie again, probably already bartering for a spring wedding. Maybe apologizing for Sam hitting him with the thermos.
Sam wasn’t gonna. She regretted nothing. He was a manipulative asshole, and unlike his kids? She didn’t think it made it any better that he didn’t do it on purpose.
Some things didn’t have to be malicious to be shitty and hurtful, but people always made excuses like the intent should matter more than the impact.
That thought made her snicker a little. She’d made a little impact of her own. To his face, with her thermos.
Fuck that guy.
She hadn’t given a shit about him one way or another before tonight, not past him being yet another society himbo. Lucky he was cute and rich, because not much else was going on.
She’d never had much to do with his adopted brood either, although there she had changed her mind. Despite Dick being a cop, they’d been surprisingly down to earth.
Probably what came of having been adopted into society life rather than being born in. Sam could admit she had her share of annoying rich people problems.
Most of the Waynelets didn’t, at least not the more obvious signs, and it was refreshing. She’d finally had fun at one of these stupid events.
She’d always wondered if Cass had a lot more going on than her inability (refusal?) to talk made people think. It was why she’d learned ASL, but the opportunity had never come up.
They just didn’t go to many of the same galas. And if Sam ever had to go to any again, at least she’d have some backup.
She was a little surprised that they hadn’t found her by now, honestly, but maybe Tucker was keeping them away. If any of them wanted to argue about thermos percussion, she had time.
Then she heard the scream and a smile pulled across her face. She squashed it back down quickly, turning with the crowd to look for the source.
Stopped, frowning, when she saw Cass hurrying past with… an extra pair of pants? She was going the way Sam needed to anyway. Sam hurried to catch up, leaning in to whisper.
“Where did you get those?”
Cass gave her a very knowing look, nodding ahead to the wall they were making for. With a small and mostly inconspicuous door.
Sam almost tripped over her own feet and had to run a few paces to catch back up.
“How the fuck did his pants get out here?!” She hissed, fighting to keep the giggle out of her voice. Didn’t matter which “he”.
Cass chuckled softly under her breath, then signed a fancy S. It took Sam a moment to put it together, but the only other person they’d met today was…
“Selina?” Cass nodded again, pulling to a stop beside the door. Gesturing for Sam to take a step back.
They were right in the middle of everyone’s attention now, party guests who’d followed Sam to the noise stepping back and forming a ring with Cass and the closet at the center.
They weren’t as quiet as they thought they were about filling people in either, and Sam heard her own name more than once. They were waiting to see what she’d do.
Oh, she’d show them what she was gonna do.
**
The guests had been guided from the dining room once more, valuables redistributed under the watchful eye of the bats.
Most of the staff were cleared too, leaving just a few behind to start early on clean up. Whatever had been fucking with Signal had stopped, and now it was just Nightwing and Signal, waiting with Killer Croc til the cops arrived.
Well, not just them. Red Robin was having himself a little bit of a freak out, pacing the hall.
“It should be here! Where could it have gone! It didn’t have legs!” Yeah, he was also ranting to himself.
Nightwing and Signal exchanged looks. Did a quick rock-paper-scissors.
Some motherfucker had definitely told him that Nightwing always picked scissors. Unfair. Treachery. Betrayal.
He wandered over to Red Robin anyway.
“Whatcha lookin’ for, Red?” He asked casually and ignored the glare he got for it.
“Riddler’s tablet! O has the address and all the tracking information, but the tablet itself could still tell us something. None of the goons had it and I swear I searched everywhere!” He aimed a kick at a fallen plate, sending it spinning across the floor.
Nightwing stared at him for a long moment.
“You have the tracking information?” He asked gently. Maybe sleeping more was actually bad for Tim.
“Of course!” Red Robin grumbled, waving his wrist computer crankily, “Danny turned the VPN off and it hooked up to my bluetooth, it’s still pinging as being in the building but I can’t find it!”
Nightwing stared at him a moment longer, waiting for him to work it out. Red Robin narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed at being pulled from his search.
“What.”
“You have the tracking information,” Nightwing repeated patiently. Red Robin shoved both fists into his own hair and pulled, groaning.
“I swear to fucking god Wing I will kill you, WHAT.” Nope, he was clearly doing the genius-hyperfocus-spiral thing. Simple solutions had left the building.
Nightwing sighed and pulled up his own mini computer.
“Just use Find My IPhone. It’s specific enough to get within a meter, it’ll tell you if it’s in the room,” he explained when Red Robin was clearly actually considering murder.
It was Red Robin’s turn to stare at him. Then he groaned and scrubbed both hands down his face.
“I fucking hate you so much right now,” he grumbled, tapping at his wrist computer to open the website, “there’s no fucking way Riddler didn’t turn that… off…”
Nightwing didn’t actually have to look at his display. The glowing dot was clear on its own. Instead he draped an arm around the shorter man’s shoulders.
“Are you okay, kid? Usually you’re the one pointing this stuff out to us,” he asked quietly, holding on when Red tried to pull away.
Red Robin struggled for a moment anyway, then sighed and shook his head.
“I just… it’s still bothering me. I swear we had Riddler on the ropes last week, but his guys are busting up a gala tonight like nothing’s wrong? There’s no riddle, he didn’t even show himself, it’s just… this feels wrong. This isn’t how Nigma behaves, and I don’t like it.”
Nightwing pursed his lips, considering. The kid had a point, and it had been bugging him too.
“Wait til we work out what the machine Robin found is. If it’s a fancy unfolding arcade cabinet, maybe that’s where the missing pieces fit,” he offered gently.
Red Robin rolled his eyes, but didn’t try and push him away this time.
“Yeah, and if it isn’t? He was shipping in a lot of explosives for something, Nightwing. I thought we caught him early, but if that was just the tail end this could all be a big distraction for something much worse,” he argued, folding his arms.
“So we’ll see if Bluebird or Batwoman picks him up tonight, and if they don’t we’ll pay him a personal visit ourselves later in the week. He was pulling through Bludhaven, I’m not letting him off my turf either,” Nightwing added with a snicker.
It seemed to soothe some ruffled feathers, and Red Robin sighed, turning his attention back to the wrist computer.
“First we find that fucking tablet. Looks like it’s just outside the doors.” He headed off across the hall, that determination back in his stride.
Nightwing tipped Signal a wink and moved to follow, rolling out his shoulders. The sooner they got this sorted out, the sooner he could nip out of costume and rejoin the fun.
Red Robin threw the door open, revealing two of the staff and a bored looking Tucker Foley, leaning back against the wall and playing with… the Riddler’s fucking tablet.
When the door opened all three looked up, then Tucker grinned and waved.
“Oh, hi guys! They wouldn’t let me back in, but Danny gave this to me and I figured you guys would want it. There’s not much on it, but you guys probably have access to stuff I don’t, right?” He asked cheerfully, holding out the tablet like it was nothing.
Nightwing pressed his lips together very firmly, holding back a laugh through sheer will. Red Robin had been struck dumb, hand half extended in front of him.
Tucker pressed the tablet into it, waving cheerfully.
“Anyway, have fun with that, I gotta go, I don’t wanna miss the show.” And he just. Walked away. Back into the main hall.
Red Robin stared after the man for almost a minute, then turned to the tablet in his hands.
“Stardew,” he said weakly, and Nightwing frowned, turning to him.
“What?”
Red Robin turned the tablet around.
“He was playing Stardew Valley. On the Riddler’s tablet. The whole time.” His voice trailed off, staring after the Black man, and Nightwing shrugged and took the tablet.
Closing the game, he stopped and frowned, turning the screen. And sure, Tim was the family tech expert and Dick liked playing dumb, but he knew base code when he saw it.
He handed the tablet back to Red Robin.
“He was playing Stardew Valley on Riddler’s totally cracked, fully open tablet,” he corrected, snapping Red Robin’s attention back to the device.
Red scrolled through a couple of quick screens, tapped a couple of commands, then sagged back against the wall and groaned.
“How the fuck is he not already one of ours?” He asked with what Nightwing was almost going to call lust. Time to text Connor and warn him he might be getting a second boyfriend.
Glancing at the tablet again, Nightwing snickered.
As if Tim on his own wasn’t already more than enough.
Sudden yelling erupted from the depths of the hall, startling both vigilantes back into action. They were already moving before the probable cause sank in.
Nightwing groaned.
They were missing it. No time to change back now, they were going to miss it!
The costs of the vigilante lifestyle kept growing and growing.
———————
You have about a week to persuade me it’s funnier to write Sam’s explosion and use all these fun new words Pamela has for Danny like “harlot” and “strumpet” and “charalatan” than it is to just start the next chapter out of the gala and let it all happen offscreen.
Starting now 💖💖💖
Next Chapter:
#danny fenton dead and loving it#dp x dc#dpxdc#dead on main ship#danny vs killer croc#danny x jason#my ongoing curse: the desire to write good scenes vs the horrible gremlin need to cut off at the worst moment#but listen it all adds to the story#and red robin freaking out made me giggle#this one was nearly too long anyway#but so much fun#you can’t make me write combat if i switch away
268 notes
·
View notes
Text
random Jason Todd rant
i probably got so much wrong but this is at least how I interpreted it. Legit just started because of the hair colour and me finding it. Copy and pasted from a series of text messages that the recipient threatened me to post. I'll say right now I'm probably wrong on just about everything.
I get that it was to do an almost spiteful thing to do with Jason changing hair colour because after all the Robins eventually have black hair so it's like even after everything Jason tries to do to distance himself from Batman, he is still a Robin and still used to be connected to him some way. But like, his blonde hair after Dick's black hair in the original run was cool because it still marked him as different in both personality and appearance than his predecessor. Like, he /is/ a different person than Dick and so Batman trying to put him through the same already abusive stuff he put Dick through. The difference is, that Jason is already not all there and struggles greatly with self worth because of his abusive family, so Batman's treatment only worsens this behavior whereas with Dick, Dick was able to see the kind of manipulation Batman was doing and left the environment almost immediately when he got the chance.
And like, as Robin, whenever Jason runs into Dick Grayson who at that point is Nightwing, they end up going into a bond of "Just stick it out bud, I'm here for you if you need me" but Dick Grayson really *isn't* there for him because he has other responsibilities and he just isn't properly aware of the abuse that is making Jason down spiral in the first place because Dick Grayson when going through it was way better at controlling himself and knew what a loving and affectionate household was like due to his parents. Versus Jason Todd who's only know violent responses due to alcoholic and abusive parents so Dick Grayson swinging by every now and then and saying "it'll be okay. Brothers stick together right?" Doesn't really help him and if anything makes him feel worse because "Well Dick went through it and came out fine. What's wrong with me? Maybe I'm not as good as him" when its purely a problem with how he was raised. So whenever Dick and Jason fight it's only because their ideals and ideas are so vastly different, it makes it hard for them to see a middle ground. Whereas with Batman it's spite and hate. And you see Batman does for some amount of time mourn Jason after he first dies, he calls Tim "Jason" at one point when he's in danger so you see Batman does now correlate the danger he's putting these kids through as a direct correlation to Jason and how at every time a Robin is in danger he thinks of Jason and yet he despises how Jason turns out, because Batman mourns the child version of Jason and Alfred says as much, they were devastated when Jason died. The naive and mostly innocent one who was trying his hardest to live up to Batman's expectation. The rose tinted glasses version of the actual child Jason was during his run as Robin where he admits that he only thought of himself as "just another Robin" who could never be as good as Dick and was never good enough for Batman. So when Jason shows up and he's no longer hiding his true feelings towards anything, Batman is forced to confront that this is how Jason turned out, this is the man that Batman's raising and "caregiving" made him into. Batman also never puts up a photo or anything of him in the little memorial to dead people in the Tower either so that sets Jason off as well because it's the idea of "I died and you didn't even care".
To be goofy and read too far into it his hair colour stuff, since Batman died before hand for that photo of him in the prison Jason was no longer actively trying to distance himself from Batman because the dude's dead, he no longer has to prove "I'm not like how you remember me, screw you." So the hair kinda goes back to what it was originally because it has been confirmed that Jason dyes his hair, usually to cover up that goofy ahh white patch from the magic puddle revival, but like for this it could either be calling back to the discontinued thing of his blonde hair when he was younger and acted more like himself vs how Batman driven, anxiety recked and desperate for affirmation he gets after he's revived. Or it could legit just be ginger because he's in jail and by giving him hair close to the uniform colour it's like "haha he's a criminal and evil. He belongs here!" Which is kinda the opposite of everything Jason Todd ends up striving for but like idk, with the changing pool of writers it could've been that they didn't even put that much thought into it and just went "ginger Jason Todd".
It's the way that he isn't even actually that important of a character in the grand scheme of things 🧍🧍🧍like he's mentioned a lot by Batman in warning to Tim and Damian in that one Terminator speech of like the "he has no empathy, he doesn't have regrets, he can't be stopped" in sort of a vicious cycle of that's how he's treated and since he's always been chemically unbalanced after the death and revival and how he keeps getting abused and brainwashed and it keeps happening and getting worse and anytime he tries to disappear, they keep hunting him down because it's the "he's too dangerous to be left to his own devices" because it's not entirely wrong but at the same time he's only getting more violent because he's getting sporadic and desperate because he's fighting harder to not be seen as Batman's "biggest failure" (his own words to a kid who died) and its like, Jason only seems chill when he's with the other Robins because when Batman isn't telling them to kill Jason, Jason is usually pretty chill.
Like bro, his fight with the son of the lady who sexually assaulted him and his mentor who hates him is brought to a screeching halt because he gets a hug. And yeah that hug is emotional manipulation by Damien because he promptly tries to tazer Jason but like- Jason once again stops in the middle of a fight with a kid who's intention is to kill him, because he gets a hug. His team is made up of people who have all been rejected and denounced by anyone they had connections to for one reason or another, like he's just a genuinely broken dude who can't catch a break because anytime he tries to do what he sees as right and is objectively more successful than Batman's way of things, Batman sends another child militia after him which sends him into another down spiral of "holy shit I'm actual trash and I hate that dude and I need to do better and prove that I deserve recognition and I'm not a failure" and all that stuff because as irrational as his motivation is at this point, he doesn't know how to do anything else really because mentally he's still kind of just an arrogant kid. Like he cracks jokes when he's with the Robins but with Batman he's almost entirely serious because that's still who he counts as the main man who he needs validation from versus the Robins who all deal with that need for validation as well except they actually get it from Batman in the form of praise.
But Jason was only adopted because Batman figured he'd either adopt him, or he'd go off and become a villain because he was violent, but Jason was never as good as the legit trained acrobat of Dick Grayson so he never got praise from Batman then because it was "well Dick did it quicker/better" and so from the very beginning, this kid who was stealing hubcaps to try and provide for his genuinely trash childhood, out of his trash life with a promise of help only to be emotionally abused by his "savior" and then is never allowed to ever take pride in his work because he'll "never be as good as Dick Grayson" which is probably why he has the most fights with Dick when he returns as Red Hood because it's the idea of "if I can whole-y and fully beat you then Batman was wrong" but instead the two just go toe-to-toe a lot because Batman knows that Dick Grayson is the only Robin who really stands a chance against Jason. Jason has demolished both Tim and Damian so it shows that he's better than Tim who was supposed to be his successor and Damian who is Batmans legit son. Like Batman legally adopts Tim, so Jason is legit better, than Batman's actual sons, but that doesn't matter because Batman doesn't see that as anything that warrants praise, he doesn't see winning the fight as anything that Jason should be rewarded for because Batman uses violence as a deterrence and seeing Jason beat the snot out of the new Robins only serves in Batman's mind to reinforce "Jason's broken. It was a mistake to try and teach him how to fight" so he doesn't praise Jason for it which ends up fuelling Jason's idea of "I'll do better next time. I'll beat someone who's better and prove how good I am" which is why he takes his fights with Batman so seriously, along with his motive of "why'd you leave me to die?" Because like, Jason's last conversation with Batman before running off and getting kidnapped was then arguing because the Joker had Jason's mother who while she was abusive, Jason never got over that Stockholm syndrome type of stuff so he insisted that he needed to go save her and Batman was just kinda yelling at him and saying it was stupid so then Jason runs off, gets hurt, dies and then when he's back that initial feeling of "he's right, I wasn't good enough" to the point that his last words "Bruce, sorry." Which sets in which leads to his thing of "if I had just been stronger/faster/better etc" which is what ends up leading to his idea of needing to be the best to prove himself to Batman on the idea of "if i had survived and succeeded then he might've praised me because I'd done what he considered impossible. So if I do what he considers impossible now by beating him and the Robins, then I'll be worth something to him" but like, once again, Batman doesn't count the extra violence of anything worth praise but he's not willing to tell Jason that he's making things worse by being more violent. So then it's just Jason being frustrated that he'll never be good enough for Batman and Batman sitting back and not caring about a child who's mentality he broke"
Just based off these photos
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sorry, I don't mean to disappear for months, but I've been getting back into reading comics after taking a super long break to play bg3. So, I've finally gotten around to reading the Knight Terrors: Robin issues that have been sitting in my 'to read' box months after they've been relevant. I’m sure everyone else had a bunch to say when it came out but here’s my two cents.
The issues just really fall flat to me. Like, I wasn't expecting a two-shot to be a deep dive into Tim's dead-dad trauma or anything, but I do feel like it misses what the core fear/horror that surrounds Jack's death is.
Like, the KT issues posset that what Tim fears the most is failing to save people, with his dad's death being the figurehead of that. That this failure is what makes him unworthy of being Robin. I'm not going to say that isn't true, that reasoning definitely factors into Tim's trauma. But it also just feels basic to me.
Like, 'failing to save a loved one' is one of the most basic superhero tropes at this point. I'd be hard pressed to think of a hero who hasn't failed to save someone they know. It might as well be a rite of passage.
(In fact, here's a panel of Tim thinking as such about his parents in an issue literally called Rites of Passage.)
Also, Tim has already had a 'crisis of faith' arc after failing to save someone with the character of Eldon Adams (Young El). It had a very big impact on Tim and the fallout of that lasted for several issues.
Identity Crisis certainly has its flaws and at times I question the need to kill off Jack in the first place. But, to me anyway, Jack's death is beautifully written and manages to tie his and Tim's decades-long storyline off in an interesting way.
The important point to make about Tim in relation to all this is that he chooses to be Robin. He was never picked, he was never fated, he was not born to do it. Robin is something he actively chooses to be. At first, it's an easy choice to make. Tim reasons that since his parents are off doing their own thing it won’t be an issue if he’s gone all the time. But, as time goes on, Jack starts spending more time at home, wanting to spend more time with Tim. The issue "resolves" in this instance by having Jack's time get taken up when he starts dating Dana Winters. But this tension continues to be a major subplot throughout Tim’s series. Tim and Jack’s already strained relationship is constantly made worse by Robin.
Tim feels guilty that his duty as Robin keeps getting in the way of his relationships. Tim's friends like Ives and Ariana are constantly stood up or brushed aside. Anything that ties Tim to the normal life he used to have is always being balanced against Robin. And for as much as Tim tries to maintain it, for as much as he says his normal life is what keeps him grounded when push comes to shove Tim always ends up choosing Robin.
The thing that makes Jack's death different from all the other parental deaths in the Batfam, and the Identity Crisis did right, is that they made it a direct consequence of Tim choosing to be Robin. Bruce's parents were killed at random. Dick's were targeted in a situation outside of his control. Jason's mother was killed for her involvement with the Joker, which started before he even met her (and his dad with Two-Face).
Jack was killed because his son was Robin. In Identity Crisis, Jean Loring targets the family members of heroes. She never would have hired Captain Boomerang to kill Jack if Tim wasn't Robin.
(Obviously, none of this is to minimize any of these characters' pain or to say one is worse than another.)
The added twist of the knife is that Tim had been spending that week with Jack instead of helping everyone find the killer. It's the one night that Tim chooses to go out as Robin again that Jack is killed. If Tim had stayed just one more night, even just one more hour, he could have saved his dad. And Jack lets him go because he knows how important Robin is to Tim.
This is more of an aside, I love this sequence of Tim ripping off his Robin uniform. Like obviously the intention is that Tim can't be seen wearing it when the police arrive. But the subtext to me reads that Tim is ripping Robin off, this thing that's come between them at every moment. Tim, before he even knows if Jack is alive or dead, doesn't want Robin to come between them anymore.
And Jack's death is something of a 'point of no return' for Tim. Before this, many of the people who know Tim is Robin have pointed out that he could always return to a normal life if he wanted to. Tim himself believes that he'll probably retire being Robin at some point. (I have my own thoughts that aren't relevant here about how that's more about him being practical as opposed to his genuine wish for his future, but I digress.) But after this, Tim is locked into the vigilante life. There's nothing normal he could return to. If he can’t be good at this, then what was the point?
KT Robin just feels uninspired. It doesn't try to extract what makes Jack's death unique or interesting. It just picks the most surface-level takeaway you could have from it. Like, it's not just about being not good enough for the job. It's losing everything because you chose to do this job and you still don't know if you're good enough to do it.
#sephs comic reading tag#tim drake#jack drake#my 'in order' reading list has me around the start of Cataclysm right now#and it's been a few months since I've read Id Crisis so forgive me if I'm misremembering anything
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
fellas is it gay to accidentally murder your future boyfriend
#dead tired#danny: awe shit i killed the majority shareholder of WE#tim: *actively dead on the ground*
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙲𝙰𝙻𝚈𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙲 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙻𝙳
FINAL ESCAPE '9'
.→✒️:★: ͜͡✿͜͡ →. Major character death . Sorry guys for the plot .
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
When the sun was setting the time for banishing you and Theo also arrived the Gladers who survived the night gathered around the front of the maze with mixed feelings.
While one group thinks it’s the way it should that they deserved to be punished the other half questions the morals on this verdict. no one knows if it’s right or wrong, no one questions it. taehyung and jungkook drag you towards the front of the maze while hoseok who hurls Theo,“sorry” they both whisper before letting you fall on the ground with a thud jimin grimace at that.
They back away moving towards yoongi who hands them machetes
Gally walks towards your fallen figure “this is such waste” he mutters
“Gally” Winston calls uneasiness settling in his stomach
“It doesn’t fell right, man”
“Yeah, what if she was right?” jeff asks “maybe he can lead us home.”
“We are home.” Gally state walking towards them “okey, I don’t wanna have to cross any more names off the wall.”
“You really think banishing us is gonna solve anything?” Theo sass.
Gally turns to him “No, but this isn’t a banishing, it’s an offering” he states simply for brief second, he looks away knowing what he going to do is wrong but, in his eyes, it is the only choice and solution he has.
“Gally? What are you doing?”
“You really think I’m gonna let her back into the maze after what she has done? Look around you! look at our glade. This is the only way and when the grievers get what they came here for everything goes back to the way it was.”
While gally is barking around yoongi and hoseok share knowing glance taehyung subtlety touches yoongi nodding towards seokjin who coming with bags and spears they gathered for their escape.
“Are you listening to this? Why are you all just standing there? He’s crazy!”
“You just shut up”
“If you stay here the grievers are going to come back. They’re gonna come back, and they’re gonna keep coming back until you all dead!” Theo exclaims
“Shut up! Tie them up” gally commands turning to walk away Taehyung draw out his machete pointing towards gally.
You stand up as seokjin calls your name throwing you and hoseok and spears Theo a machete he walks towards you. yoongi sighs walking towards you calmly soon taehyung follow still machete pointing at gally with glare daring him to make a move that could get him hurt.
“You’re full of surprise, aren’t you?”
“You don’t have to come with us, but we are leaving. Anyone else who wants to come, now it’s your last chance.” You glance at the Gladers with worry if they they’re going to die.
“Don’t listen to her, she is trying to scare us” gally said to the Gladers.
You shake your head “No, I’m not trying to scare you. you’re already scared. I’m scared.” You admit truthfully making gally turn “But I rather risk my life out there than spending the rest of it in here. We don’t belong here. This place isn’t our home. We were put in here. We were trapped in here. At least out there we have a choice. We can make it out of here I know that”
One by one some of the Gladers walks for wad with you jeff, Winston, frypan, jack, Tim and Billy.
“Gally, it’s over. Just come with us.” You plead
“Good luck against the grievers”
Yoongi grabs your hand taking you turn to him nodding everyone run inside the maze hoseok leading them with you and yoongi behind, you run past the blades and make to the way where the sector is, and find yourself in the front with hoseok.
And press yourself against wall when you see a griever up ahead nodding towards hoseok he gestures everyone to be quiet.
“There is griever down there”
Hoseok takes off his bag and giving to jimin “You take this, don’t lose it”
“I won’t” jimin whisper back before turning towards you “now come, hold my hand” you raise your brow at the request.
Jin slaps his head slightly “not the time”
“Guys please, once this activates the door will open. We stay close and we stick together we get through this. We get out now or we die trying” you firmly state looking at everyone.
“that’s hot” jimin whisper you glance at a smile threating to come out.
“You ready” they nod taking their weapons “all right. Let’s go!”
With a yell you all run towards the griever spears pointed machete ready to cut the griever turns towards you letting out an ugly snarl. The griever is pushed to side, and from the side of the bridge more grievers start to come.
Jimin and Taehyung who in charge of opening door, “There are code eight numbers!” jimin yells
“Hoseok! Tell them the sequence!” you scream all while stabbing the grievers
“What?”
“The section of the maze what’s the sequence?”
“Seven!”
“One!”
“Five!”
“Two!”
“Six!”
“Four!”
“Heads up!” yoongi yells seeing one griever coming from up everyone move back you pull Hoseok out of the way barely missing the griever.
“EVERYONE TO THE DOOR” you yell hastily everyone get inside the hole spears pointing towards the creatures.
“Hoseok the rest!” taehyung and jimin yells
“Eight! Three! You got it”
Jimin press the numbers the word complete shows on the screen “DONE” the door open and the walls starts come down on the grievers killing some of them one of the walls crush the griever Infront of you.
Everyone sighs in relief thankfully no one was killed or injured the hole close suddenly leaving everyone in darkness.
Jimin who was leaning against the door falls with shrink “I’m okey, I’m fine” he stands up
Taehyung motion everyone to come stepping inside, a long hallway is the what you see the lights starts lit up one by one illuminating the path.
You and the boys lead the way and come Infront of the door that had the word exit written on.
Cautiously you open the door grimacing when you see man in lab coat laying down few feet away with blood on the walls.
The place looked wrecked smoke and beeping of alarms you guys enter into a room a tech room sort of there also dead bodies there is glass windows smashed.
Everyone scatters to look around yoongi, hoseok and jin move towards the systems that has the live footage of the glade from every angle “So she was right, they were watching us”
Jimin, jungkook and taehyung stayed with you, it felt so similar to what you saw feeling eyes on watching you glance up to see Theo gaze at you from other side.
Sighing you push the blinking finger print. The screen in Infront power up a lady in white coat sitting. You know her she is the woman you saw; everyone gathers to watch the footage.
“Hello, my name is doctor ava Paige, I’m the director of operations of the world catastrophe Killzone department. If you’re watching this, that means you have successfully completed the maze trials. I wish I could be there in person to congratulate you but circumstance seem to have prevented it. I’m sure by now, you must all be very confused angry frightened I can only assure you, that everything that’s happened to you everything we’ve done to you it was all done for a reason. You won’t remember but the sun has scorched our world. Billions of lives lost to fire famine suffering on global scale the fallout was unimaginable. What came after was worse. We called it the flare. A deadly virus that attacks the brain. it is violent. Unpredictable incurable or so we thought. In time, a new generation emerged that could survive the virus suddenly there was a reason to hope for a cure. But finding it would not be easy. The young would have to be tested, even sacrificed inside harsh environments where their brain activity could be studied all in effort to understand what makes them different what makes you different. You may not realize it but you are very important. Unfortunately, your trials have only just begun, as you will no doubt soon discover, not everyone agrees with our methods. Progress is slow, people are scared. It may be too late for up. For me but not for you the outside world awaits remember wicked is good.”
The footage needs with the woman, Ava Paige shooting herself making everyone startled. Having enough you walk away, it’s not that fact she killed herself what disturbed you what the hell did she mean my it’s not over that it’s just beginning.
A hand touches your back making you flinch yoongi retrieve his hands giving you worried glance, looking up you see everyone eyes on you.
“You alright?” jin asks
You nod “yeah, we… we need to get out of here.” as soon as the word leave your mouth a door opens.
“Is it over?’ jungkook asks looking at the door with anticipation.
“She said we were important. What are we supposed to do now” taehyung’s confused voice question.
“There is something wrong with her words” yoongi state
“let’s get out of here.” Hoseok said
“no” a voice behind you disagrees. There gally stands with a gun in his hands.
“Gally?”
“Don’t” Theo stops you by grabbing on to your shoulder “he’s been stung”
Everyone watches gally warily as he sniffs tears running down on his face “We can’t leave”
“We did. Gally, we’re out. We’re free” you softly said eyes shifting between the gun and him stepping Infront of the them you promised Namjoon that you would get them out and you would do that even if you’re scared to, the boy’s frown as you do.
“Free? You think we free out there? No. there’s no escape from this place” he lifts the gun pointing at you.
Your heart beat out your chest “gally listen to me. You’re not thinking straight. You’re not” your voice tremble “now we can help you, just put down the gun”
“I belong to the maze”
“Just put down the gun” you repeated panic evident in your voice.
“We all do” three things happen at the same time.
Gally pulled the trigger.
Hoseok throws a spear at gally.
Jungkook push you out the way.
Gally gasped as the spear stabbed through his chest gasping, he falls on his knees, you look around checking if anyone had hurt then finally to jungkook frowning when he staggers on his feet blinking.
“Jungkook, hey” you grab on to his shoulder turning to you he smiles at you before falling on to you quickly grabbing on to him, you let him lay on you. the crimson stain on his shirt makes your eye swell up with tears.
Jimin and taehyung eyes widen crouching next to you hurriedly, yoongi freeze where he stands unable to move jin screams in terror hoseok slowly kneel towards you.
You shake your head quickly stripping your shirt off you press it down on his wound “Hey, look at me! It’s fine just don’t close your eyes. Look at me.” You lightly slap on his cheeks all while pushing the cloth down firmly your eyes caught jimin “Jimin, jimin! What we do what…” he shakes his head sobbing “Hey, hey…look at me please don’t close your eyes” the tears now freely fall.
jungkook grunt a small smile on his face even though he is in pain “you’re beautiful…I’m sorry I never told you” He wasn’t able to save Namjoon but he had chance to save you and he took it he doesn’t think he regrate that even when he could feel his blood leaving his body.
you shake your head “just stay awake okey, save your breath”
“It’s okey…...thank you…” he exhales his hands finds your cheeks before it goes limp.
“No…No…. please wake up…. talk to me…jungkook…jungkook” your pleas were not heard. A wail leaves your mouth echoing around the room the sound of your wailing and the boys cry echoes the room.
It’s your fault isn’t it. jungkook is killed because he tried to say you, Namjoon died because of you. not just them half of the Gladers died because of, because of what you did you helped the wicked to put them in the maze you are the part of reason why they suffered three years in the maze, being studied experimented torched.
The sound of the door opening alert them they call out your name, the guards run in taking the boys yoongi put up no fights he let the guard take them.
“We have her” as he passes by, he hears the words but was too dazed to understand the words
Two guards pull you away making you thrash around them crawling back towards jungkook you wrap your arms around his body screaming. They forcefully grab you by arms and drag you away.
“JUNGKOOK”
“JUNGKOOK”
“Please take him, he needs help”
The drag you out the building, the harsh sunlight makes your eyes sting refocusing you see mountains of sands everywhere around you.
They guide you into a helicopter the others were also huddled up in there, jin who sitting close sees your glossy exhausted face. He gives you his hands take it you sit beside him, making yourself small “I’m sorry…. I’m sorry” you whisper heaving.
Jin shakes his head wrapping his hands around you, he pushes your head to his chest “it’s not your fault…it’s alright…we’re going to be alright” your hands find around his waist tucking your face on his chest firmly.
One of the guards come in getting inside “you guys all right?” he asks looking around the boys his eyes lingering on you who still safely tucked in jin’s arms not bothering to glance up and acknowledge the man.
The boys suspiciously look at the guard “don’t worry. You’re safe now” the helicopter rise in the air the boys expect jin look out the windows seeing the maze is surrounded with the wicked building.
The boys sigh thankful that they except the maze all expect one boy.
The people around the table stands up when the sound of the heels reaches their ears, Ava Paige walks in scrubbing the blood on her forehead away “Well, I think it’s safe to say the maze trials were a complete success. I wasn’t expecting so many survivors, but the more the merrier. Y/n continue to surprise and impress and for now, they seem to have taken the bait. It’s too soon to say but they could be the key to everything. So, let’s move forward. It’s time now we begin phase two.”
THE MAZE TRIALS FINAL REPORT
WICKED IS GOOD
Series masterlist
#kim namjoon x reader#namjoon x reader#kim seokjin x reader#seokjin x reader#kim taehyung x reader#taehyung x reader#jung hoseok x reader#hoseok x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook x reader#park jimin x reader#jimin x reader#min yoongi x reader#yoongi x reader#bts ot7#bts fanfic#bts x fem!reader#bts x reader#bts x y/n#bts maze runner au#bts fanfction#x reader#the maze runner#bts ot7 x reader
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Escape! (Batmom in DCeased)
Time to run! Reader... did you read the first scene? i hope ya did, you got options!
(Scene 1)
As you cradled yourself in the room, you realize that Alfred is somewhere in the manor. Your son Damian with with the Kent’s, Jason is probably ahead of the game and not dead. You cant just sit here! You get up as reach under the bed, you pull out a box that has escape equipment. Rope, a walkie-talkie with a bat symbol on it, and some mini toiletries. You head to the balcony and make sure the rope is secured before carefully descending yourself onto the ground. Once your feet were on the cool grass that’s when you realized that you were still in your night gown.
“Ok, Bruce is with the league. He must know what this is. He has to know what’s happening.”
You ran back inside in the manor and made a B-line to the grandfather clock. When you got in you saw your husband siting Infront of the computer screen. Watching Gotham's citizens tear each other apart. “Bruce!”
You’ve never moved so fast. As soon as Bruce stood from his seat you jumped into his arms. Sharing a deep kiss. Relief washed over you both. But it was only for a moment as the camera angle switched to another shot of the city. You pull back and look into his eyes
“are you ok?” His look of concern rattled you to your core as you remembered what had happened to your sons. You start to whale as you cried in his chest
“Bruce… they’re. Dick and Tim they’ve…”
Bruce closed his eyes and he held onto you tighter. He was too late. That’s when he realized that Alfred was in danger. “This is a virus transmitted through the internet. Computer! are the firewalls active?.”
“Not all of them sir.”
Bruce sucked his teeth “Damn it. EMP the house NOW!”
You held onto him as the manor above grew silent. “Stay here.” Bruce gave you a kiss on your hand before heading up the stairs. You look at the console desk to find a walkie with the bat symbol on it.
“Damian. Can you hear me?” You say in a somber tone. Honestly you didn’t expect an answer given how your other two sons turned.
“Ummi. Is that you.”
You felt your legs shake as you heard your youngest’s voice though the device “yes! Yes baby I’m here. Where are you? Are you safe. Don’t look at screens!” You cram all the important survival information that you’ve learned though sobs and choked laughter.
“Yes mother. I’m with the Kents. Superman has informed us. We’re at the daily planet.” Damian voice was cold yet concerned. You knew that his to the point attitude was a way to protect himself from grief. He probably put two and two together that somethings happened to his family. “Where is my father”
“Bruce went to get Alfred. He’s.” The sound of metal clanking caused you to turn around. To your horror Bruce is in one of Mr. Freezes suites with Alfred holding a shot gun close behind. “Don’t tell me… please don’t tell me you.”
Bruce responded with a curt nod. You look into his eyes, you see his pain. And without another word you pass the walkie to him while you go around the cave seeking out essentials. Two katanas, two hand guns. Smoke grenades. Anything you can carry on the move.
You stop at one of the normal looking spaces in the cave. It was a cozy relaxation space for the family when they came home from patrol. You would suture their wounds or scold them for being reckless in that space.
“I am so proud of you my son. I wish I would be with you see it.” You heard Bruce say his final goodbyes. To his son.
You grab the picture frame and walk to Alfred who stood at the ready.
Whats next?
You place a hand over his “let me. Now find Damian. Please.” You take his shotgun.
You take the Batman case and look away as you hear your husbands growl. Gone from this world.
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Carried
First posted: December 17, 2018
Focuses on: Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, and Dick Grayson
Favorite bookmark: "Sad but in a good way"
Tier: Pretty middle of the road in all aspects, which I actually find surprising; I thought it was higher
This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Thoughts below the cut.
This is a fun one to look back on because it was made to fulfill @hollyhock13's Christmas stocking ("Janet Drake’s funeral was canonically held on Christmas Eve :)") and that was a stranger back in 2018 but we're friends now.
Tim stared, dry-eyed, at the minister’s shoes. They were shiny but mud-flecked, a consequence of the walk through the cemetery to the grave. The earth beneath their feet was cold and hard, but it had slurried the night before and made a mess of the grounds. His mother would have hated it. She would have worn impractical stiletto heels, despite the cold and the terrain, and would have grumbled the entire way from the car. But she didn’t. As the guest of honor, she was carried instead.
I have attended many funerals but no burials, so this was all a mix of TV and guesswork on my end, the way things go. I will say I'm still awfully pleased with that final sentence there.
That was okay. He had been kind to Tim, his hand warm and dry as they shook before the service. He had asked how Tim was doing and seemed to hear all the things he didn’t say. The minister might not have known Janet Drake, but when he spoke, his voice was full of warmth and gentle compassion.
I also know many pastors (no priests, plenty of reverends), so it was important to me to make the appearance of this one, unnamed though he is, feel realistic to my lived experience. Not a villain or a bogeyman, just a guy doing a job with basic human compassion for a boy who's lost his mom. I do roll my eyes in books when the POV person is like "This stranger that we hired to officiate over the funeral clearly didn't know the deceased!" I mean. You hired a stranger. That's on you, friend. For whatever reason, hiring a person of faith to preside over the ceremony was a choice that you made, even if the dead person hadn't made a connection to the faith in their life.
That was a tangent.
Jack had loved his wife at one point, Tim knew. They’d loved each other even when they hadn’t loved him. But it had been a very long time ago, and they had both moved on.
As with all things, I know the adult Drakes primarily through other fic, which portrays a range of behaviors and attitudes. I selected this specific one, because I had no interest in dealing with a grieving widower and neither did I want to fuss with an actively abusive Jack as opposed to a neglectful Jack.
Jack had returned to Gotham, stepping foot in his home for the first time in weeks. Always a force of nature, he had swept through the house like a mudslide, putting together the service and funerary arrangements over the phone even as he boxed and bagged his wife’s belongings to donate.
Had to make sure this squared with Much That Once Was. People who write full original novels are champions for keeping everything straight.
Shouldn’t it have been an indelible moment for him, seeing his mother disappear beneath the earth? She had cradled him, once upon a time. Shouldn’t it mean more to watch her go? He cringed away from the idea of feeling pain, but surely pain was preferable to this icy numbness.
Personally, I've had relatives die, but so far they've been people I loved very much but only saw a couple times a year. It was interesting to take some of the disconnect I've experienced, dial it way way up, and give it to Tim for a different reason. (Tim's reason is he never had a relationship with his mother, not even the chance of one, so he has nothing to mourn. At least with Jack he could grieve what might have been.)
Yet here he was, looking down at them both in his tasteful Armani suit.
Now that I know a tiny bit more about rich people, I suspect that there are fancier brands than Armani that Bruce would know. Still couldn't tell you what they are, though. Something from Saville Row, maybe?
Dick, dressed in a slightly less expensive suit than Bruce’s, stepped forward and shook Jack’s hand. He and Bruce stood the same way when at rest. Tim wondered if they knew.
Another personal favorite of mine, using a third party to clock similarities between members of the Fam. It's fun in real life, too, thinking about Perception and acquired traits and what we pick up from other people as we roll along through life together.
“Hey, Tim,” Dick murmured. His gaze was too warm, too sympathetic. Tim returned a mumbled hello and looked away.
The use of temperature, literal and metaphorical, was fun in this fic.
“Geez, Timbo.” Dick took off his coat and wrapped it around Tim.
Again, the only genuine nickname I'll allow for Tim.
Once the issue of propriety was settled, helped along by a dash of that old Gotham guilt over poor orphan Bruce, it was simple enough to steal Tim away.
Bruce's place within Gotham's collective consciousness is a fun thing to dig into, depending on whether you want him to be their darling boy, a scandal, or something else.
They took him back to their car, a stately standard limousine that Tim hadn’t seen before, Bruce on his right and Dick on his left. Alfred met them at the car and opened the door.
I like the idea of Bruce having a standard Serious Rich Person car that he saves for Serious Rich Person events like funerals. I also like the idea of Batman and Nightwing as Tim's careful honor guard.
Bruce and Dick exchanged a look that Tim couldn’t decipher. They looked so alike, despite not being related. What must it feel like to be able to look at another person and understand what they were thinking without a word spoken? What did it feel like to have your soul be that close to another’s?
I love themmmmm
“There’s no mission?” Tim lifted one hand, brushed the limp hair from his eyes. “Then why are you here?”
“Because your mother died.”
I've said this before, but I wish you all could hear what I hear in my head. Not all the time, but sometimes there is a very specific intonation and there's no other way a line can be said for me. This is one of them.
It wasn’t that Tim had never heard Bruce speak with such tender softness. As terrifying as he could be, Batman had been known to crouch down in front of the smallest, most frightened child and lure them out by his voice alone. But Tim wasn’t sure why Bruce was speaking that way to him, or why it made something inside him begin to tremble.
Another very fun trope, knowing someone is a certain contradictory way and then being taken aback when they turn that soft, contradictory nature your way because you don't see yourself the way they do.
“Come here.” When Tim didn’t move, Bruce spoke again. “Tim. Come here.”
The car was still moving, but Tim unbuckled and rose in a crouch, shifting from his bench seat to the spot between Bruce and Dick.
This was frustrating, because by all accounts Dick likely would have sat next to Tim when they first climbed into the car, but I wanted him to be able to see both their faces easily during the conversation and have the moment where he went from being opposite them to nestled between them. We must sacrifice common sense to art, sometimes.
“We’ll talk about that tomorrow.” There was a pause, another unspoken communication over Tim’s head. “Or maybe the day after.”
Because tomorrow is Christmas.
“Rest while you can,” Bruce advised, his chest rumbling beneath Tim’s cheek. “Alfred has been baking all day. You’ll need your strength.”
s t r e s s b a k i n g
Tim nodded and curled his fingers around Dick’s as he closed his eyes. It was wrong, he was pretty sure, to feel this happy while riding away from his mother’s funeral. The tears might never come, or they might appear later and drown him in their strength. But no matter what happened, it was nice to know he had people to carry him through. It was almost like having a real family.
Like a happy little assassin I like to sneak in a final stab under the ribs when least expected.
BONUS: The fic title is a double meaning (Janet being carried in her coffin but also Tim being metaphorically carried by Bruce and Dick) but also a friend in college wrote a song with this title about his then-friend future wife and it's what I hear in my head every time I look at this fic.
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rebirth Chapter 1 | Healed
This work is a direct continuation of the one-shot Remembrance.
Jason wakes up gasping for air. He feels the texture of the bed underneath him. Back at the hotel . He squints at the dark sky outside and focuses on his brothers' curious looks.
"I saw her."
Those are the first words he utters.
"Hey, wait. Don't strain yourself." Dick lays a hand on his shoulder. Face contorting into a frown, Jason shrugs him off.
"I saw her. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The dead girl," Jason insists again. Dick and Tim share a worried glance, which he scowls at. He knows what he saw. He knows she's alive.
Jason notices that something is off. He looks down on his bare chest, which bears no marking, no wound indicative of what transpired earlier. His heart pounds. He's sure he has injuries from that encounter. He can remember the sting near his shoulder, the sharp grip of those monsters, and his muscles aching from the effort to escape. A concussion. I should have a concussion.
But there's nothing. Not even the cuts from the friction of the solid ground can be seen on his palms. What he notes, however, are the bloodstains on his pants and arms.
"What happened?" he hisses.
"You sent a distress signal," Tim replies, readjusting his laptop on his lap. "We found you unconscious in the middle of the road."
"Didn't you see anyone there? I'm supposed to be out of blood." Jason rubs his head. "I'm supposed to be dead."
"You had blood all over you, but no sign of injury," Dick explains.
"The cameras." Jason scrambles out of the bed, clutching the edge of the cushion. It can't be a hallucination or a fucked up nightmare. The blood and his nausea are enough proof for it.
"We already checked the cameras," says Tim. "We need you to explain first what you saw."
" I told you. I saw that girl. Her eyes were green. She got revived by the Pits. She fought off those monsters." When Jason stands up, he feels strangely reenergized, more invigorated than before he started the day. "I think she healed me too."
Tim turns his laptop around and presses one key. It shows a grainy feed from one of the street cameras. The ghastly creatures that appeared are there, along with Jason himself. The events are repeated in the video just as he remembers, but his savior's presence is entirely absent. Instead of the odd lights he saw, there's only the shine of the moon. It ends with the monsters melting into the shadows like liquid and Jason passing out.
"That's impossible." Jason weaves his fingers through his hair. "I saw her. I swear I did."
She's alive. She's actually alive.
"Okay, before we get to that part," Dick steps in. "What the hell were those things? I thought the situation was resolved in Paris two years ago and none of the Miraculi are active anymore."
"I did a bit of research." Tim begins to type on the keyboard again. "It's true that the Miraculi aren't in use anymore, but there is one that wasn't retrieved during the final battle."
A picture of a brooch emerges on the screen.
"The Peacock Miraculous," Tim supplies, "It has the power to create sentient beings. Sentimonsters, as they called it. The sentimonsters come from deep emotions."
"So whoever has this Miraculous, they made those monsters?" Dick asks. Tim nods in confirmation.
Jason makes his way to the closet to grab a new shirt. That partly explains the appearance of those monsters but there are other pressing questions. Who made them? Why did they only come out now? Why make them?
"About Marinette . . ." Tim's wary gaze strays over to him. "She didn't show up anywhere in the feed. I checked the other cams too. Are you sure—"
"Go back to the video."
Jason studies the playback again. He directs Tim to pause and slow down at a certain mark. It's evident in the slowed version: as one of the sentimonsters pins Jason down, it suddenly gets knocked to the side without an apparent source of the blow.
"See?" Jason crosses his arms. "Something hit it. Some one. Obviously not me."
"Why wasn't she in the video then?" Tim questions.
"What else did you see, Jay?" Dick plays the video again.
"I was already losing blood, mind you." Jason racks his brain. Memories flutter in his head. "But I saw . . . like a green shield thing. It looked like a sphere. There was also a black light and she had two swords with her. I didn't see other weapons."
Tim blinks at him tiredly, perhaps wondering if he's in the right mental state. "Okay, assuming she was actually there, that doesn't make sense. A green shield? That sounds like the power of the Turtle Miraculous. And that black light, I think, comes from the Black Cat Miraculous. As far as I know, both Miraculi are under the care of the former hero Chat Noir, also known as Adrien Agreste."
"And if we try to guess that a revived Marinette borrowed those Miraculi from him, that's unlikely. As far as they know, she's dead. We saw them grieve her this morning." Tim shoots Jason a pointed look.
"We should ask them then," Dick pipes up.
"We can't do that." Jason narrows his eyes at him. "What do you expect us to do? Knock on their door at two fucking a.m. and tell them that their dead friend is alive? In civvies? "
Jason forces himself to calm down. Dick, of all people, should know what it's like to receive that kind of news. He sees his brother's fists clench but he doesn't say anything more.
"We should look more into it." He turns back to Tim. "But I bet all my guns I saw her. Maybe if those monsters show up again, she'll be there."
"No, I think I believe you." Tim massages his wrist. "If she can use the Miraculi's powers without the actual Miraculi, then she could've used the Fox's illusions to make herself disappear on cams."
Tim opens his mouth again to add something but Jason snaps at him. "If you're just gonna say 'I told you so', you better shut your mouth, Replacement." He turns his head towards the other doors. "Where's the old man and the brat?"
"Sleeping," Dick responds.
Jason nods. He doesn't want Bruce to catch word of it yet; the man will wear himself out in deep investigation if he gets the hint that his daughter may be alive.
They just have to figure it out before anyone else does.
---
Adrien wakes up slowly, in soft waves that carry him in and out of dreamland. He realizes that he's not imagining the chatter coming from the corner of the room. There are, in fact, two voices conversing by the door. He wearily blinks up at the unfamiliar ceiling, remembering that he was staying in Chloé's room in Le Grand Paris.
Rubbing the skin at the base of his ring finger, he stands up and walks to the door to see a jacket-clad Chloé arguing with a red-headed man.
"Officer Raincomprix?" He says hoarsely.
"Adrien!" Roger breathes out. "I wanted to talk to you! There has been an emergency—"
"At five fifteen in the morning, really, Roger? " Chloé put one hand on her hip irritably.
Adrien puts a hand on her shoulder. "What emergency?"
"There was—um—a bunch of noises reported earlier. We checked the cameras and we think it might be the activity of sentimonsters."
Adrien stops breathing for a moment.
" Sentimonsters? Are you absolutely sure about that?"
"There's no other explanation Miss Bourgeois."
He closes his eyes, feeling bile rise to his throat. Sentimonsters. The Peacock. They only retrieved one Miraculous back then. At the cost of his best friend's life. His legs shake at the thought of a new person terrorizing the city.
"We don't have to go see it now, Adrien," Chloé tells him. "We can go with Gams and Luka later."
"No." He checks his other friends. They're still sound asleep. "We'll go see the tapes now."
Chloé complains to Roger for the duration of the trip to the police station, while Adrien only stares at nothing with a blank expression. A part of him already knows the danger of the missing Miraculous, but his trembling fingers say that he's not yet ready. He won't know what to do if another terror plagues the city.
And he won't have her .
Chloé starts talking to him, soothing him out of a potential panic attack until they reach the station. Roger shows the videos and true enough, the monsters are mostly likely from Duusuu's power. But those monsters are different from what they've seen before. They're ruthless. Grotesque. He flinches at the blood of the victim, aware that no healing light comes afterwards.
"Who did they attack?" Chloé asks following the third loop of the feed. "He looks familiar."
"Jason Todd-Wayne." Roger removes and fiddles with his hat. "Adopted son of Bruce Wayne."
Adopted son of Marinette's biological father, Adrien completes the statement in his head. He recalls the tall man with a white streak in his hair, who he first saw during her funeral. He never bothered talking to the Waynes before. "What happened to him? Is he okay?"
"A couple minutes after this, two of his brothers came to get him." Roger frowns. "But he hasn't been taken to the hospital as far as I know."
Adrien and Chloé exchange bewildered looks. Were the damages reversed after all? Or are the injuries not as worse as they looked?
"The police can't handle this themselves, but we’ll help you with anything you need," says Roger.
Adrien purses his lips. Consequences of revealing yourself to the public. There's a million questions begging to be answered, but they can't rush into it carelessly. Even if two years have passed, Paris is still in the process of healing.
He straightens his shoulders, looking at Roger in the eye. "Take us to the place."
---
The first drops of sunrise kiss the ground when they finish looking around. The police closed off the area, so there aren't many people around. The authorities are yet to disclose the happenings to the public.
Adrien takes slow steps to the corner where the monsters disappeared during the incident. A few bloodstains taint the white lines on the road. Strips of metal decorate the cracks on the sidewalk, faded muddy footprints show signs of an intense scuffle, and the pools of water in the potholes are yet to dry.
"Not much clues," Chloé murmurs, pinching the edges of the police tape with manicured fingers. "I wonder why they backed off."
Adrien rubs his finger again. There is no requirement for amokized objects to be near the sentimonster itself; there's little to no chance that the holder was around during the attack.
"Officer," he calls out. "Have you spoken with the Waynes?"
Roger momentarily pales. "I—I can't possibly disturb them at this time—"
"Where are they?" Chloé folds her arms. "Our hotel?"
"At a different hotel, Miss Bourgeois, to keep away from the public eye. We will ask them later this afternoon—"
Adrien interrupts the fidgeting man. "When you do, we'll come with you."
Roger heaves out a sigh. "Listen . . . both of you. They're not from around here. They're not used to these kinds of stuff 'kay? I can't bring you two. You might scare them off. Mayor Bourgeois won’t be happy if you do."
"They're from Gotham, Roger. They probably see blood everyday," Chloé says, tugging on her jacket. "Maybe that’s why they didn't go to a hospital. As for my father, I'll have a word with him myself."
Adrien makes his way to Chloé's side as Roger relents and turns to speak with another cop. He nudges her arm, tugging them into the side, out of earshot.
"Are you okay?" she whispers, squeezing his hand.
"Yeah. Thinking of . . . of asking the kwamis about this."
Her eyebrows raise. "Are you sure? You're going to open up the box?"
"They might have answers. I don't know. I have a bad feeling." That this will be worse than Hawkmoth.
next
Permanent Taglist: @tinybrie
On AO3
#remembrance series#ggomoz#maribat#maribat fanfic#maribat batfam#maribat jason todd#maribat adrien agreste#bio dad bruce wayne#dc x mlb#mlb x dc
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay....so Tumblr got walloped by a spree of empty accounts pestering any active blog with shallow follows here for over two and half months. I mentioned to someone who brought this up, that these accounts are low-effort trolling, and that in my past experience, they usually act as ground cover distraction for something far more convincing (and worse) on the way.
-so, yeah, while we were swatting at gnats, Tumblr was bombarded by a lot (A LOT) of accounts shilling like crazy for the fake-ass QAnon conspiracy fiction film "Sound of Freedom" in that time. These recent accounts were good at appearing anime ("i aM An arTIsT!") or safely "gay" or appearing like Christian mom's who get gooey over Caviezel (the worst are these incredibly fake "Catholic" accounts who have never heard of Dorothy Day and think showing a generic pic of an icon will convince others-along with the word "Catholic" in their URL-that they are the real deal). The accounts were trying really hard to "appear Tumblr", and the fact there were so many of them makes this "the big hill they wanted to die on" for this year (so far). Chances are these accounts (many with goofy pop culture reference names) are ones you wouldn't even go near following, but they very likely lurked near any popular post you had lately to beef up their cred here.
One account aptly pointed out that they sound like cultists parroting the same things "everyone must see this film!", "this film really opened my eyes" (to what? trafficking? something human rights groups have been yelling about since the 70s and 80s?), and "God's children are not for sale!"....many went as far as to get conspiratorial saying that the movie itself was a victim of a plot to undersell it, to show it in poorly air conditioned theaters, or that outlets aptly critiquing the film, like Rolling Stone, are part of the "evil Soros (((elite)))" (actual dog-whistles in use) trying to suppress the film. If the film were suppressed, it simply would've not been released. You have guys like Musk, Trump, and that antisemite, Mel Gibson supporting it.
-by far the worst and most combative spew to come from these accounts is the false dilemma of "anyone who dislikes this film is a Pedo"-oh, like we haven't heard this ugly, slanderous drivel from scores of trolls on every platform over, basically anything, in the last eight years. This ranks with "If you criticize the state of Israel's actions in Palestine, you must be antisemitic." Oddly enough, the persons involved in the film are antisemitic, far-right POSs.
Now....
If anyone had a lingering thought that this movie was typically RW deflection and projection away from all the pedophilia found within circles of RW A-holes (There have been eight guys who worked under Trump called out as pedos....this is not including Trump's heavy ties to Epstein, or associations Trump has had with pedos like Roy Moore or Matt Gaetz....just recently, an anti-abortionist named Cole Wagner was arrested for child sex abuse, and a Patriot Front member in Utah arrested with child porn)....well, guess what, the above producer of the film, Hutchinson, was filmed in 2016 feeling up the breasts of a trafficked underage girl...y'know, to stay "in that deep cover". Recently, Tim Ballard was discovered using women to "pose as wives" (y'know, that "deep cover thang") in his self-indulgent crusade, and it involved him insisting the women must shower and sleep with him. A financier for the film, Fabian Marta, was found to be a child-kidnapper, and though it is not proven, there have been wild rumors that the far-right nut Caviezel was watching child porn "for research on the subject matter".
So, yeah, the call is coming from inside the building, and anything these dead-in-the-water accounts say by praising this film is complete BS (thanks for the extensive blocklist, Tumblr).
It's bad enough you had accounts here pushing the Wayfair conspiracy crap over two years go or some that actually shilled this phony "outrage" over oil-heiress-funded fake clean-cut "climate activists" causing disruptions at events (unmasked) and "vandalizing" art work at museums that chose to no longer allow support from BP, but to come on here and stir up a repackaged QAnon like a re-heated dogturd and use that as Carte Blanche to label critics with the worst things you could possibly label someone just to protect the name of a truly rotten political party that has been going down in flames for years now is unforgivable.
This fictional film does absolutely nothing to stop the real danger of human trafficking and child pedophila. It bolsters this "white Christian man" is gonna fight the "menace across the border", rather than look at what is going on in churches and cults and scout groups and locker rooms and Olympic gymnast training committees and with the family members, friends, and coaches we think we know. It has proven again and gain, such films engender misguided Satanic Panic style hysteria and hamper the efforts of real groups trying to fight this menace for decades.
-and again, I'm sorry for the clumsy comments I left elsewhere about who was involved with what and how, but the four (at least three) I mentioned involved in the film above are now getting exposed as the hypocrites that they are.
4 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
cygnusred
cygnus red music
R. F. S.
bytheway56
StretchIT
akbaba36
muhammet akbaba
cherry-ari
it's all or nothing
dagac4com
đá gà trực tiếp dagac4