#*pacing

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent

—

Tw: vivisection mention (not in detail), bad Fenton parents

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 2 here) (Pt. 3 here)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It was a dark, cold, miserable night, and Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, wanted nothing more than to be home, covered in blankets with the heater set to max as he worked on his most recent strain of fear toxin.

Instead he was at the docks, standing in as backup for the Penguin as he made a deal with some sleaze-bag smugglers. Something about some sort of body armor for his hired help. Crane hadn’t really paid much attention to the Penguin’s words, only caring enough to show up because of the reward.

But honestly, he couldn’t care less about the money at this point.

He was cold, and miserable, and his leg hurt something fierce (he’d had chronic pains ever since being mauled by Killer Croc some time ago), and he was so, so close to a breakthrough with his new toxin, and he really couldn’t stand the Penguin anyways. The only thing keeping him there was his reputation as a rogue.

Just as Crane was deciding that the whole ordeal wasn’t worth it, he heard the sound of a chase a few blocks down. With a deep, heavy sigh, he moved from the wall he had been leaning against, looming in the alleyway as he waited for the potential threat to reveal itself.

A few moments later, a boy came careening into the alleyway, sliding to a stop when he noticed the Scarecrow, his eyes growing impossibly wide. Beneath the mask, Jonathan grinned.

The boy swore, loudly, glancing between Scarecrow and the exit of the alleyway. As the echoing sound of footsteps grew closer, he chose to face the way he came, turning his back to Scarecrow.

What an idiotic way to get killed. Either the boy was a complete and utter fool, or there was something out there worse (to him, at least) than the Scarecrow.

Jonathan Crane tilted his head slowly, considering. He could just cut his losses and leave, Penguin be damned, or he could stay and see what had the boy so spooked.

Eventually, unfortunately enough, his curiosity won out. He shifted, bringing a hand to his side where he kept several canisters of fear toxin.

Crane had to bite back a groan when the boy’s pursuers entered the alleyway.

It was those damned idiots in white suits.

They had been tailing him for weeks now. They were easy enough to fight, but they were annoyingly persistent, and always seemed to have a way to find him. (Not to mention, the Riddler had strong opinions on their outfits, and if he had to hear the white-suit-in-Gotham rant one more time he was going to throttle him.)

Led by the men in white was a woman in a teal hazmat suit. Jonathan had seen her around, too, though less frequently than the others. He had honestly assumed that she was just a new C-tier rogue and avoided her like the plague.

Her eyes went wide as saucers when she saw Jonathan standing a few feet from the boy. No one moved a muscle.

“Danny,” the woman spoke softly. The boy, Danny, flinched, glancing between her and Scarecrow, “come on, we can talk about this. Your father and I only want to help you.”

He was running from his mother?

Scarecrow paused after that revelation, choosing to fully take in the boy’s appearance.

He was lean, almost gaunt, and wearing clothes several sizes too big for him, probably stolen. His entire body shook, from fear and cold both, and he clutched his stomach with one hand. At first, Scarecrow assumed that it was due to being out of breath, but as he looked closer he could see blood staining the dark fabric of the boy’s shirt.

He was injured, underweight, and running from his parents.

Something that felt a lot like rage swelled in Jonathan’s heart.

“Danny, you don’t get it! We’re so close now. We can fix you, and then we can go home, and everything can go back to normal,” she said, smiling in a way that was clearly supposed to be reassuring. She took a few steps forward, the men behind her clearly readying their weapons.

The boy backed away from his mother, inadvertently coming closer to Scarecrow.

He glanced up at Crane again, his blue eyes shining in fear, but not of him.

Sickening. Sickening.

In one fluid motion, Jonathan grabbed the boy by the wrist, pulling him behind him, and threw a large canister of fear gas into the group who had been chasing him.

The liquid in the container turned to gas as soon as it broke open, billowing out and filling half of the alleyway with a thick yellow smog.

The boy gasped, pulling his shirt over his face in a pathetic attempt to filter out the toxin. It would have to do, though, Scarecrow thought, rushing forward to force the boy’s aggressors to breathe in the gas.

The fight that the men put up was pitiful. The few individuals who didn’t breathe in the toxin immediately were clearly unused to fighting hand-to-hand, and dropped like flies in Scarecrow’s wake.

Just as the men began to spasm and shout in their terror, as if on cue, the familiar wail of police sirens reached the Scarecrow’s ears.

He heaved a heavy, irritated sigh, fingers twitching for a cigarette. He was trying to quit as of late, but he felt that after today, he might deserve one.

Though now was not the time to be thinking of cigarettes.

Jonathan approached the boy, mindful of any signs he might run off.

The boy didn’t seem to notice his approach in the slightest, just staring at the woman in the jumpsuit as she writhed on the ground.

Right. That would most likely be traumatic for a child to see, wouldn’t it?

Scarecrow moved in front of the boy, blocking his line of sight. The boy looked up at him now, his face completely blank.

“The police are on their way,” Scarecrow spoke, his voice low. The boy didn’t acknowledge him in any way.

“You don’t want to be here when they arrive, do you?”

After several moments pause, the boy shook his head slowly. He looked numb.

Dissociation, most likely.

“You’ll come with me, then.”

It was a statement, not a question, but he waited for the boy’s response regardless. As soon as he nodded in agreement, Jonathan lifted him up, carrying him out of the cold, miserable alleyway.

Scarecrow paused briefly to warn the Penguin of the incoming officers through the comm he had been given, and then he was off, weaving through the streets and alleyways towards his getaway car.

…

The drive back to his safe house was quiet. The boy didn’t look over at him once, instead opting to stare out ahead of him.

…

Luckily, they were able to make it back without detection. Jonathan ushered the boy into his small apartment, sitting him down on the dingy couch that had come with the lease.

“Wait here, alright?” Jonathan said, the boy nodding once in response.

With that, he retreated into the small kitchen, looking for some sort of warm beverage.

It was nearly three in the morning now, so coffee was out of the question. He was completely out of the hot chocolate he had bought for whenever Eddie or Harley came over for a visit, so that was out too.

He supposed the only option was his chamomile tea. Did teenagers like tea? He supposed it didn’t really matter, the kid was on the run from his parents in the house of a Gotham rogue. Surely he had bigger things to worry about.

Jonathan made the drinks quickly, leaving the kitchen with two mugs in hand. He gave one to the boy, who looked up at him in surprise, before settling into his own seat.

It was an incredibly comfortable old leather armchair that he had gotten some years ago and stubbornly held onto ever since. He usually had one of the rogues he was at least somewhat friendly with pick it up when he entered Arkham.

Whenever Eddie and Harley were over, they would call it his old man chair, and he would tell them to leave.

The two of them sat quietly for a while, drinking their tea slowly. It was clear that the boy was leaving whatever headspace he had slipped into, becoming more alert (and uncomfortable) by the second.

“So,” Crane began, pausing before speaking more quietly when he saw the boy flinch, “you knew them.”

It was not a question.

The boy nodded, curling in on himself. He held the mug close to his chest, no doubt soothed by the warmth.

“They’ve been following me around for some time now,” Crane continued, “and you’re going to tell me why.”

The boy looked up at him, a pained expression written all over his face.

“You won’t believe me,” he murmured, curling up even further.

His clothes were soaked. Jonathan should have put down a towel before letting him sit down.

“Sure I will,” he said, ignoring the blood and water seeping into his furniture.

The landlord would not be happy.

“It’s gonna sound crazy.”

“I’ve been to Arkham.”

The boy paused, before mumbling something quietly.

“Again? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said,” the boy huffed, quickly changing his tone when he remembered who he was talking to, “they…think you’re a ghost.”

“A ghost,” Crane repeated flatly.

“I told you it was gonna sound crazy!” The boy protested, before wrapping his arms around himself.

“Well,” Jonathan hummed, “it’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard in Gotham. Explain it to me.”

The boy paused, glancing up at his face, no doubt looking for some sign of mockery. He found none.

Then, he opened his mouth, and explained everything he could.

Ghosts, the portal to another world, the GiW, his parents. It was all incredibly far-fetched, but also far too consistent to be made up on the spot, and Crane could tell that the boy genuinely believed what he was saying.

“…but, if you don’t believe me, fine. I know it probably sounds stupid and fake,” he mumbled, looking away.

“I’ll believe you for now,” Crane said. The boy whipped his head up, staring at him in shock.

“If I do trust that what you’re saying is true, though, then why do I show up on their equipment as a ghost? I’m not dead, and never have been.”

“Um,” the boy hummed, looking somewhat nervous. Understandable, really.

“Well, have you by any chance been involved in any lab accidents recently..?”

Jonathan Crane froze, his face dropping. The boy noticed his change in demeanor, flinching slightly.

“Penguin,” he hissed out, his voice slightly inhuman. “Cobblepot, that motherfucker.”

“Wait—calm down! The angrier you get, the easier you’ll show up on the radar!”

Crane glared down at the boy, seething with rage. He once again flinched, looking away from him. With an extraordinary amount of effort, Jonathan slumped back down in his chair, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself.

When he cracked his eyes back open, the boy was openly staring at him, curiosity written all over his face.

As soon as he noticed Crane looking back at him, he glanced away, straightening in his seat.

���Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about. In the morning, we’re going to discuss this in a lot more detail,” he said, standing up with slow movements. The boy stood as well, hands clasped together.

“For now, though, you’re going to let me take a look at that wound of yours, and then you’re going to take a shower and go to bed.”

The rest of the night went rather quickly.

The boy was rather hesitant to show him his wound, instead assuring him that it had been properly sewn up and that he was fine. Crane was having none of it, though, and gave him a once-over just in case.

It was, very clearly, the kind of cut used during an autopsy. Danny didn’t offer any information, so Crane had to assume that he was either back from the dead, or he had been vivisected. Either was possible in Gotham.

At the very least, Danny hadn’t lied about the stitches, and the wound was already beginning to heal.

With that, Danny showered quickly (he leapt out with a shriek the moment the hot water ran out), and went to bed in borrowed clothes without much complaint.

Thus, Jonathan was left with cold water for his shower, and slept on the still-damp couch so that the boy could have a bed to sleep in. Somehow, he found that he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would.

[cyanferret21]

Hey guys, do you remember this London scene from Sonic 3?

Okay, so I’m rewatching the movie once again, and something clicked for me this time.

I alway associate this moment with one reaction channel that was reacting to the trailer for the movie. While watching it the guys pointed out that the position of everyone in the shot looks odd. Like if somebody is missing there! Trailers likes to omit some moments and details that are only gonna be present in the release version. They hid Shadow’s super form in the trailer, for example, while still showing the scene itself. So, the missing character is not that big of a stretch in this situation.

As we all now know, there were actually no character there. Later when they were reacting to the movie itself they even noted that “wow, guess there were no hidden character in that odd spot after all, huh”. And they left it on that.

But now I’m watching the movie again, remembering that reaction, and still thinking: why is that odd blank spot there?

And I think I have an explanation!

It’s a cool visual representation! You see, by this point, we have a few conflicts on our hands. On one side, the main plot of the movie - with Sonic and his team versus Robotniks. But we also have the conflict of found family vs blood family - Agent Stone vs Gerald Robotnik. Both of whom dragging the blanket of Ivo’s attention on themselves.

We already saw the scene where Ivo and Gerald spend their “quality time” together in VR. And we saw how hurt it made Stone. Although, he can’t be mad at Eggman about wanting to spend time with his previously presumed dead grandpa-

-but he’s not obligated to be happy about being ignored either. Stone is not used to being forced to share Ivo’s attention with anyone else, and it shows.

And so now we come back to scene I started this whole discussion from. And what we see?

A literal GAP between Agent Stone and the rest of Robotniks!

Yeah, I did on purpose called all the three of them Robotniks. Despite everything, Shadow was like a brother to Maria. We see from the flashbacks that in the past Gerald too cared for the alien as for his own kid. “They’re trying to take Shadow away from us, Maria!” HE CARED! So Shadow I can count as technical Robotnik, alongside Maria Robotnik, Gerald Robotnik and Ivo Robotnik.

And they all stand on the left side of the shot, leaving Stone standing alone far to the right corner. The closest standing to Stone is Ivo, and even he is “one human-sized gap” away from him. (The gap that Gerald can and want to fill in to achieve his goal)

It might also be that Stone himself has chosen to separate himself from the group here, feeeling as if he’s not part of it. Not part of Ivo’s family! And isn’t it sad!?

The scene hurts even more when you remember that at the start of the movie, in the first scene where Eggman shows up, he calls Stone “the only person in the world I could trust”

Stone: Doctor, you have visitors.

Eggman: Oh, really? I thought I was having an anthropomorphic nightmare, where the only person I could trust in the world shows up with all my worst enemies…

[smilesrobotlover]

A guy

[santipietroepaolo]

You mean to tell me they cut a scene between them 😭😭

[spitblaze]

[guy who doesnt watch shows voice] yeah ive been meaning to watch that show

[helpimstuckinafandom]

I'M FUCKING CRYING LMAOOO

[prlssprfctn]

I actually need some fanfic, where Bruce and Jason are in the middle of some argument, and a casual (and a well-practiced with Dick before) sentence leaves his mouth, something along the lines "How old do you think you are?!", meaning that he is acting childishly. And because Jason is irritated, and his tongue runs loose in his anger, he screams back that he is nineteen, and Bruce just freezes, because... Oh. Jason is nineteen. He is a fucking kid - his kid - that lost years of his teenhood, and was forced back without anyone giving him a space to catch up, with everyone else already treating him like an adult... When he isn't.

[skeletood]

GREEN DAVE I FUCKING GUESS

@horrorjerk ok i drew him green now fucking explain yourself

[abandoned-quiche]

I LOVE ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS BTW. I DO NOT WANT TO SEE YOUR HATE FOR THEM ON MY POST

[seiwas]

just thought about stepdad bakugo being caught off guard the first time your teenage son calls him “dad” 🥺

it’s after years of being with you. their relationship isn’t bad by any means—it’s okay; it’s good. but your son has called him katsuki for the longest time, and he was happy with that, perfectly content even (at least, he thought he was).

it was enough that your boy dubbed his cooking “the best in the entire universe and beyond”; it was enough that your boy trusted him enough with a few harmless secrets that you may never know. it was enough that you’d both welcomed him into your home, into your lives, in a way that’s made him feel like he belongs.

it was enough (at least, he thought it was), until your kid comes home with a group of friends one day and they ask him, “who’s the guy in your backyard?”

between the scrapes of soil against his gardening shovel and mild hearing problems, katsuki shouldn’t have been able to hear anything—but he hears this loud and clear.

your kid tells his friends, “oh, that’s just my dad,” like it’s the most obvious, natural thing in the world and it hits katsuki square in the chest.

the next thing he knows, he’s smiling, eyes a little wet but not yet crying (—is what he’ll tell you later). it’s a small curve of his lips, but it stays plastered on until the moment you come home.

you wonder, when the three of you are cleaning up after dinner, “what’s got you all smiley today?”

he looks at you, back a little straighter and chest puffed out just a bit more. then, he glances at your son just an earshot away, wiping the table clean; he turns to you, mumbling, “tell ya ‘bout it later.”

(like he’s got all the pride in the world, like he’s got all the love in the world).

[ohmovie]

There's nothing left for him. His daughter. He wasn't her father, either. She loves him. She'll survive. She's young. I don't want you to die. Don't kill him. Let him live. Let him live. Don't kill him.

Roy Walker/Black Bandit & Alexandria/Bandit's daughter THE FALL│2006

[gaybuckybarnesss]

MICHELE MORRONE 365 Days (2020)

[recklessmoss]

They need to invent a "I have to voice my needs & wants otherwise people won't know them." that doesn't put me through the same emotions as the first caveman being hunted by a sabertooth tiger.

[ghosthazard]

Take Aim

[piesafterdark]

I hope riot drops arcane 2, the longer, not cut version of arcane. All deleted scenes, the originals of shortened scenes, extra episodes if need be. It's such an incredible world and it sucks they had to cut things down, especially since this may be the last we ever see of these characters.