#(though this part is 90% just Alfred)

[elysianstars]

Fic Teaser: Amaranth

So, this is a preview of my offering for day six of @malflearweek. Day four was a deliberate break, and day five was a less deliberate break because I ended up having to stay 13 hours at work (compared to 'only' 11 hours today). I don't want to rush out more stories I'm not fully satisfied with, so the completed fics for today's and yesterday's prompts will appear...at some point in the future.

Anyway, for now here's this!

His first memory of visiting the Somniel is hazy, dreamlike. Five or six years old, and excited because it was his first trip outside of Firene, to the holy shores of Lythos and then the private sanctum which floated overhead like a cloud. His caretakers impressed the etiquette on him beforehand, how he needed to be on his best behaviour, show due reverence to Queen Lumera and her sleeping child (not that he was capable of causing much trouble back then, besides chattering on silly topics until his breath ran out). A blur of perfect blue skies, delicate white flowers, and curtains of translucent gauze encircling an altar-bed. A figure lying still and silent as the grave, and he had to believe the adults, insisting it wasn't actually death and simply a long, healing slumber.

Queen Lumera's son was a heroic warrior, in the terrible struggle against Fell Dragons a thousand years ago. Struck down by a near-fatal blow, but not before his actions saved all of Elyos for generations to come. Alfred's mother told him the story, and shook her head sadly when he asked if a magical sleep like that would help make him better, too. They aren't Divine Dragons, only humans, so it doesn't work the same way.

Seven years old, and the memories are clearer. That was a bad year, and sometimes he sat miserably confined in a wheelchair, because his legs couldn't be trusted to stand firm, and his lungs couldn't be trusted to draw enough air for activity. Still, when he heard that his family were planning a visit to the Somniel, he begged not to be left behind. He remembers the slow, stubborn struggle of climbing each step to the enchanted bedchamber, to kneel between his parents in prayer, proving he was capable of that without needing to be carried. Queen Lumera waited patiently, indulging a sickly little boy's yearning for inclusion.

Nine years old, and Alfred was growing taller – though not so tall or strong as he wanted – but the figure on the altar looked just the same, peaceful and unchanging. He didn't look injured either, and maybe that meant the spell working on him was almost complete, and soon he'd wake up. Queen Lumera smiled, when Alfred voiced that thought. Perhaps even a goddess liked to hear words of reassurance, sometimes.

Once, Alfred asked her what the Dragon Child was like as an actual child, when he was Alfred's age. Was he obedient or mischievous, lively or shy? What games did he like to play? Did they play the same things a thousand years ago? Instead of answering though, Queen Lumera only said something vague and sad, and then Alfred felt guilty. He'd thought she might enjoy it, reminiscing about when her son was awake, but maybe it only reminded her of what she'd lost. So he didn't ask again, after that.

Eleven, barely. Fatherless and forlorn, in the months since the epidemic's shadow lifted from Firene. Of course they had to wait until all symptoms vanished before travelling, to ensure it couldn't spread. Of course the symptoms lingered in him more than anyone else, brewing restlessness and frustration. He didn't want to act badly though, to upset his mother or sister. For their sake, it was important to try and smile, to be brave for them rather than a burden.

Finally, it was deemed safe. Boarding the ship at Florra Port – the Seablossom which always carried the royal family, with its specially embroidered sails – felt like closing a chapter on their sorrows, as the fresh ocean breezes whirled around him. A return to their normal lives, in a healing realm. Even if only three of them would be crossing to Lythos, this time...

After the standard rituals of their Somniel visit, his mother retired to speak with Queen Lumera alone, in a corner of the tranquil gardens where they wouldn't be disturbed. At the time, Alfred assumed they just wanted a friendly chat, but looking back with an adult's perspective, there were likely politics in play that afternoon, tensions hidden beneath the sunny surface. Mother was worried that Brodia might take advantage of her kingdom's weakened state, wasn't she? She wanted to ask where Lythos stood, if they'd offer support or remain neutral, and didn't like to discuss that in front of the children. Later she'd secure the pact of non-aggression, but it was only in draft at that point, no firm guarantee of safety.

But Alfred wasn't worried, oblivious to such grown-up problems, so while the queens handled matters of state and Vander took Celine to pick peaches in the orchard, he wandered back up to the altar. Trusted as harmless, no longer contagious, and too pious for pranks in a place like this.

Celine sometimes gave him a light scolding, for telling foolish things to the Dragon Child besides prayers. Alfred insisted he'd like it though, hearing something new instead of the same old words repeated every time. Stories of the dolphins who followed the Seablossom, and horse riding lessons, and the delicious marmalade the castle's new chef made. Nothing bad, nothing about plagues or sorrows that might disturb sacred dreams, only the good stuff. Sharing small joys with a person who couldn't go out and find his own.

Maybe if he knew more about all the different things happening in the world, it would encourage him to wake up faster and join in. Queen Lumera's stories made him sound amazing, so surely everyone would be happier, getting to meet him at last.

Thirteen, and another level of appreciation was forming for that lovely face, with its eternally gentle aura. Alfred had enough sense to keep that thought to himself, though. Besides, there was a limit to how attractive someone could actually be, simply lying around, lacking animation or a voice. Like a painting the artist had sketched out, but not filled in the colours yet.

There was no official rule forbidding weird thoughts about deities – and Alfred's family didn't follow those niche religious branches that tried to shame people into chastity – but Queen Lumera showed no inclination to find a king, and never mentioned the father of her child. After a thousand years, maybe personal interests like that just...faded away. Which seemed lonely, but then again, Alfred's mother barely spoke of his father anymore, after a much shorter span of time. It made his chest hurt to dwell on too much – a duller, heavier, less panicky sensation than one of his attacks – and so he decided not to.

Fifteen, and he ignored Celine's sideways stare as he chattered to the dormant dragon, mentioning his retainers and exercise regimes. There was an upcoming festival too, his favourite of the year. Oh, but when the Divine One finally wakes then there's bound to be a huge, once in a lifetime celebration! So he'd better wake soon, because Alfred would hate to miss out on that. Celine sighed, but then in the Somniel's always-perfect sunlight – radiance softened by the layered curtains of this chamber – she smiled a little at her incorrigible older brother.

So the years pass, and Alfred manages to keep going, past milestones everyone feared he'd never reach. Perfecting the training that help strengthen his weak frame, and lessen the strain on his heart. Cheering up everyone who needs to see a happy, prosperous Crown Prince, someone they can place their trust in. The exercises aren't just maintenance, but daily self-reassurance – because if he can run so many laps without struggling, or complete his lance drills without a stumble, then it's solid proof he's okay, pushing back his worries. A sick person, a dying person, couldn't manage that, could they? The sentiments echo back from those around him, building his confidence, even if the muscles don't follow quite the way they should.

The Somniel visits are a family tradition, as much as a religious rite or display of political unity. Not every kingdom does it, but that's up to them. Queen Lumera is always welcoming, ageless and serene. Fresh white roses arrayed over fresh silken sheets, every inch of the chamber pristine, the most holy and well-protected sanctum in all of Elyos. And yet the figure it was arranged for never stirs, time after time.

Until finally, everything explodes into action. Corpse-like monsters invading the land, tainting the bountiful earth of Firene with malice. Rumours that the Divine Dragon was glimpsed soaring over Lythos, when her true form is so rarely taken. The decision to place Alfred on their swiftest ship, to seek guidance from their deity and ensure trouble hasn't spread to those sacred shores.

It has, though. He isn't prepared for what they face in the castle. Corrupted swarming halls where they shouldn't be able to tread, running riot against a small number of attendants. Pure white marble scorched and bloodstained.

And amidst it all, the most beautiful vision Alfred has ever seen. The Divine One, awake and vibrant and glowing with magic, floating on the gold and azure wings of an Emblem.

[flamingpudding]

Part 5 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

For those that ask, yes an AO3 link is in the works. I will post it once its ready. Also fair warning, I will be focusing on DPxDC Family Week now so I have no idea when the next part will be up.

<<1 Previous Next

Thrill and chirp brother

Tim sipped on his n-th cup of specially made Tim-brand-not-Alfred-approved coffee as he shuffled into the dinning room and sat down on the breakfast table. The moment he sat down he opened the laptop again and stared at its screen for a couple of seconds. The scan of the post-it note got nothing. None of the squiggles was recognised in any of the so far known languages. Hell he even ran it through the leagues recordings of interdimensional and interplanetary known languages. No hits so far. Right now he was running a picture recognition program to see if any of these had appeared before it was on 90% with nothing found so far.

Good he hoped this really was just a prank from Cass and Steph. Because if it wasn't, Bruce would go nuts and overly paranoid as well as up the entire Manors security system a third time this month. Sadly, despite his hope, Tim knew that it wasn't a prank.

A cough resounded behind him and Tim blinked two times before sighting, closing the laptop and pushing it only a couple of inches away from him as Alfred put a plate with his breakfast before him. Knowing Alfreds rules about work at the table he would better not touch it again for now.

"Replacement, you look like the dead walking. Did you even sleep last night?" He glared at his brother before he blinked taking in his surroundings before his eyes rested on little Danny.

Tim could see that all of them, despite barely knowing the kid for a couple of hours, had already become attached to Danny. It didn't help that they had discovered Lichtenberg scarring running up Danny's left arm all the way to where his heart was after the child had finally let Damien take care of him. Hell Tim wanted to know who would give a child, a once dead then revived one, scares like that. If Talia had let the kid go through some sort of experimentation…. Well Tim knew where the explosives were stored and by the looks of it he probably could count on Jason's as well as Dick's help to blow up a league facility.

Either way Damien had become very protective of the child. The scarring didn't help calming that protectiveness either. In fact he was pretty sure it steered it more in the rest of them too. Also the fact that Danny spat out glowing Lazarus Water once they managed to wrangle the kid off Jason last night wasn't calming down a different kind of worry anytime soon either. No, it was another factor next to the scarring that spoke for the League having experimented on the poor child. He probably should start investing more time into what sort of facilities the League had built or was using lately.

On a good note, thankfully Danny had let up on Jason after he spat out the green goop and thanks to the fact that he apparently recognised Damien, let said teenager manhandle -cough- take care of the little biter for the rest of the night. It also seemed like the little guys biting obsession with Jason had calmed down, for now. He didn't trust the calm, especially not with the way Danny was still focused on his second oldest brother. Though everyone except for the demon brat was still getting the hissing treatment. Considering his theory that the League probably used the revived child to experiment with Lazarus Water, it wasn't that much of a surprise. Anyone would be feral after being subjected to experiments.

Thankfully it looked that whatever Pit Madness had overcome the child last night was not reacting towards them. But as he watched Dick trying really hard not to pout at Damien who had Danny in his lap in a protective hold, he wondered how long that would hold. Jason sat as far away from Danny and Damien as he could, probably because of the way the child was watching him with glowing blue eyes while munching on whatever food Damien gave to the little biter.

He could also see the reason for Dick's pouting as the elder reached out to attempt to ruffle Danny's hair but the child instantly snapped his head in their eldest brother's direction, hissing, bearing his teeth and even snapping at the air until Dick withdrew said hand again. A pout very evidently on his face. Like a switch flipped the child's focus would then redirect to watching Jason like a hawk again and munching on the food the Demon brat gave him.

At least he was the bitey type that would hiss as warning and not the stabby kind without warning like Damien.

"Yo, anyone at home up there?"

Turning his focus back to his second oldest brother Tim glared at him once more. "If you have to know. Yes I did sleep last night."

"More than one hour?" Dick asked next and Tim refused to look at the eldest. He was not going to answer that. He had coffee, who needed sleep when you have coffee. Besides, he was a perfectly functioning human being even with minimal amounts of sleep. He had not face planted his breakfast for three days now.

"What got you so obsessed that you didn't sleep, Drake? Another case? Or did you try to find out more from the League in regards to Danyal's scars?"

"That too but mostly the post-it note." He finally answered after stewing a little longer under the stares of his siblings. "Neither our nor the JL's language recognition programs got a hit and right now I am running a picture recognition to see if there ever was any kind of writing like that found before but it ran up to 90% before I came down and hadn't found anything like that before. And-"

"Slow down there Timber. I thought that's just a prank from Cass and Steph?" Dick interrupted him and Tim suppressed a groan.

"It couldn't be. I wish it was but both of them weren't in the Manor last night and I don't think Duke would do something like this so-"

"Hold up." Jason cut in and Tim glowered at them for getting interrupted again.

"What do you mean no language recognition program got a hit?"

"It means that there is no languages to translate-"

"Why would you need that? Yea its cryptic as fuck but its clearly written out!"

"Jason what are you talking about?" He opened his laptop again, turning the screen so it was facing Jason. "These are squiggles! How is it readable?!"

"The fuck you talking about?! Don't tell me your sleep deprived mind doesn't know how to read anymore?"

"Jason what does it say in your eyes?" Dick carefully cut in before Tim could question the other any more.

"'The daylight knight will tell the truth with eyes that see the light'. See cryptic as fuck." The older gesticulated towards Tim's laptop screen while Damien raised an eyebrow at him.

"The what now, will tell what?" Dick asked confusedly while Tim turned the laptop back towards him noting down what Jason just said. He was confused as to why Jason was able to read the squiggles but at least that gave him some kind of hint about the post-it. Aside from adding more questions to the already growing pile.

Suddenly a thrilling noise echoed in the room and the four looked at Danny. The child's now green eyes were focused on Jason. Tim could see Damiens hold tightening and Dick tensing when they noticed the green. Danny repeated the same nose he made earlier, still intensely staring at Jason.

"Who the fuck is clockwork?"

The green fated and Danny made a similar noise to chirping, his head tilting in confusion.

"The fuck you mean you don't know? You just said that Clockwork wrote the note?!"

"Todd. Did you just understand the noise Danyal was making?"

Once again the three of them stared at Jason who looked at them confused. "You didn't?"

They shake their heads and Jason let out a frustrated groan as he sat back down his head in his hands. "What did you assholes hear just now?"

"Danyal made some kind of thrilling, then chirping noise."

"Well I heard him say that someone named Clockwork wrote the note and then he said all confused that he doesn't know who Clockwork is." He looked at them frustrated. "Why do I hear the kid speak and you guys don't. You're his fucking twin, right? Shouldn't you know what the brat is saying?"

Damien glowered at their brother offended but didn't retort anything. Tim did see a hint of frustration with their formerly youngest and he could guess. Damien was most likely frustrated about the fact that Jason understood his twin's noises and he didn't. The only thing stopping him from possibly hurling the breakfast knife at Jasons, was most likely his hold on Danny.

Tim also thought about the fact for a while until it suddenly hit him. He looked up and made eye contact with Dick who most likely came to the same conclusion. The two turned towards their siblings.

"The Lazarus Water." Tim carefully offered, watching Jason and Damien tensed slightly.

"What about it?" The second oldest scoffed, turning his attention towards them.

"That's what you two have in common. Both of you got revived and came back through a Lazarus Pit. You still have the Pit in your mind right? And Danny most likely also has a lot of it in his system. It even mixed with his DNA."

After a beat of silence Jason let out a hearty groan. "Fuck. So because of the Pit I understand thrill and chirps now? Just fucking great!"

"Probably can speak it too if you try. That would be pretty cute. Come on, say something in a chirp!" Leave it to Dick to try to lighten the mood, though the glare Jason sent the eldest did make Tim hide a chuckle. He had to admit imaging Jason talking in chirps was a funny image. Should his brother ever do that he would need to make sure to take a video for his black mail folder.

"I will fucking not!"

"Come on, don't you want to communicate properly with our little teethling here?"

"Fuck off Dick!"

"You have to try it Jaybird! For little teethling!"

"Richard." Damien warned but Tim could only snicker as he watched Dick reach out to pat the kids head carelessly, apparently not hearing the warning nor hissing as the elder was too engrossed in convincing Jason to talk in chirp.

Dick let out a shriek of pain.

"Ha! Not so fun getting bitten is it now?" Jason laughed gloating with the fact that for once he was not the biting target.

Tim winched the moment he saw Danny clamp down with his sharp teeth on Dick's hand. Damien was instantly scowling both of them but the little biter refused to let go. He saw Alfred approaching the three and instantly stood up from his chair with a warning on the tip of his tongue as the butler reached out towards Danny.

"Master Danyal." Stunned and frozen the four brothers watched how the butler fearlessly patted the child's head who only let out a small hiss in acknowledgement, teeth still digging into the eldest brother's hand. "I request you let go of Master Dick's hand. I fear it will not taste as well as this snack I have prepared for you."

In an instant Danny let go and chirped, turning his attention towards Alfred who was still patting the child's head without getting hissed at or being in risk of getting bitten. Damien even let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you Pennyworth."

Dick was now cradling his hand, pouting and mumbling something about unfairness at the three as Jason laughed. Tim too couldn't help but chuckle, of course Alfred somehow became an exception towards Danny's biteyness.

It was at that moment that Duke entered the room, took one look at them, blinked, rubbed his eyes and then turned around and left again muttering something about it being too bright and early for any of this.

[wandixx]

Ghost of fries and Hero of cookies part 3

All work words count: 14 643

Words in this part: 3 056

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay

Or

Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Joker goons are in for an orange surprise and Duke does not like it in the slightest

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part, Previous part

trigger warnings: gun violence, panic attacks, dissociation, mentions of Joker gas and what it doeas to people (tell me if i missed something, I'll add it)

Duke was having quite a good day. His schoolwork finally got lighter and up until now nothing notable happen on his patrol. Obviously, couldn’t have Gotham without at least one mugging and bank and corner shop robbery. About the last thing, if it was chain store he would conveniently arrive too late to stop it and just follow up to make sure cashier didn’t get fired. He used to be intimately close with hardships of getting necessary supplies like food or gas masks while corporate assholes were trying to suck people dry. But it was family business so he actually had to step in. He did mention secure way of getting resources to would be robbers though. All in all, not so bad, pretty good day. As for now, he was swinging on grapple to meet with Dani, armed with healthy snack Alfred demanded he took for her when he got texted on his Signal-work-phoneTM. It meant important business 90% of the time, so he stopped to check it out. Other 10% were memes from Dani that usually were worth it anyway.

Got it in one, Hoopoe texted. He opened chat expecting funny video or something instead to be greeted by:

Dani: Hey Signal

Dani: Peple aint spossedf t get out f Arkham

Dani: Amirite?

His stomach dropped. He wished it was hypothetical question but he knew better than to believe such fantasies. Things didn’t go so well in Gotham, especially not with Hoopoe.

You: Yeah, your right. What’s up?

You: You’re*

Dani: Nerd

Dani: Whatre you’re thots on clowns

Dani: ?

His stomach officially landed at his feet and decided it wasn’t enough dropping and ended up on a street below. Even if Joker was still locked up, his goons being active were bad news.

You: Where are you?

You: Hoopoe, where are you?

Dani: Clm dow I ned to chek

Dani: I have ni ieda

Dani: The box building rod

Dani: roof*

Dani: Warehouse?

Dani: That the wors

Dani: I think

You: There are over 1000 warehouses in Gotham

Dani: Idk wht yu want me totll yu

Dani: Therere other warehous arond?

You: Okay

You: Check corners for symbol and number

Back in the day everyone other than Bruce decided to take part in a challenge to count all of the warehouses in Gotham manually. They each got their sector and graffiti spray to mark counted buildings. Later it kinda turned into a way of identifying them. 

Dani: Red blb with too wite dots

Dani: #83

Okay, he wasn’t too far. He risked roof hopping and checking texts to make sure she didn’t try anything stu-

Dani: Im goin in

You: No!

You: Stay where you are!

You: Hoopoe!

You: Hoopoe!

Dani: Calm down worrywart

Dani: Jus wante ti get ab look

Dani: Invisible

Dani: M not dump

I doubt it

You entered building with Joker’s goons with no back-up or plan. It’s extremely dangerous

Dani: Yeah, yeah don care

Dani: 5 goons in clown masks

Dani: Maks idk wat of

Dani: Not northern hemisphere of sky for sure

Dani: Weird containter s

Dani: Ari smells funny

Dani: Giggly i guess

Dani: U prbl know better

You: Get out of there

You: NOW!

You: Try not breathing it in

Dani: K

Dani: Ill stop brething then

You: GET OUT!

Dani: K

Dani: Why so agressive

Because Duke knew what Joker gas could do to person. He knew how it took wonderful people (like his parents) and left shells wand shadows of who they used to be. Because every gas release left him with panic attack. Because he knew it was more dangerous than even some vigilantes thought it was.

You: Wait until I get there

Dani: K

He almost tripped with how much he tried to speed up.

Dani was actually vibrating when he arrived but stayed quiet. Good. If she breathed in some Joker gas it wasn’t working dose yet. Duke had deep feeling not even Alfred’s cookies would be enough to deter her from entering. Offering her a granola bar he sat at the edge of the roof with bone deep sigh. Girl took snack eagerly, bouncing around like puppy high on caffeine.

“How about we take a note of this happening and get going? Other Bats are better equipped to deal with this,” They weren’t but he didn’t want Dani anywhere near this mess. He himself didn’t want to be anywhere near it either.

Kid got deadly still, staring at him as if she could read his deepest secrets if she looked hard enough.

“They’re scaring you” she whispered with strong feeling but Duke had trouble reading what feeling was it. He put his face in his hands for a moment. How was he even supposed to answer that?

“Joker is one of the most dangerous people in Gotham and these guys are working for him. They have guns. Of course I’m a little scared”

Judging by the face Dani made, she wanted to call him out on his bullshit but thought better of it. She floated to sit next to him, swallowing granola in few bites.

“My friend Johnny mentioned him,” she started between chewing ”he said ‘bastard murdered my baby bro Jay and Jay knew his way in fight, stay away from him Dani’. Normally Johnny isn’t so careful”

“All more reasons to leave it for others!” Duke almost shouted, hope growing in his chest. Maybe he could steer her away from it!

“He also told me to hit him if I happen to meet him. He would owe me ‘big one’ then. Do you think I could get ‘small one’ for couple of goons?!”

“Hoopoe no!”

Girl looked thoughtful and after over two weeks of working together he learned to fear this expression.

“Whatever you’re thinking, no. I’ll buy you biggest fries, just leave this–” he waved vaguely at the warehouse hoping it would get message across “–whole mess alone” There was lump in his throat.

Dani haven’t abandon whatever thought got her like that and nodded to herself few time. She drifted around a bit, shifted under her way too long cloak and finally settled with a soft smile.

“You’re scared… Terrified. You’re terrified of them,” she started calmly, like she would talk to a victim if she actually knew how to do it ”It’s okay. It’s great. Fear is what keeps humans alive,” she nodded as if she recounted something from textbook properly in front of the class “But I’m not scared and I fought people much stronger than them and I’m even better now thanks to you. If you’re so terrified, it means they need to be dealt with and it needs to be done fast. It’s okay,” her grin from soft turned devilish “I was itching for some fun fight anyway”

“Dani-”

“It’ll be quick, I promise,” she said, serious again “Don’t worry,” she stood up, saluted and fell through the roof, all too fast to react or not miss it with a blink. Frankly, it caught Duke so off guard he couldn’t even move for a few seconds after the whole ordeal anyway. He threw himself down to the nearest window as soon as he regained control over his body. His heart was stuck in his throat.

Dani tackled first goon with delighted giggle right when he crashed inside. He checked if his mask was secure on reflexes he plummeted towards the ground, moving his body to land safely on top of the shelf. Warehouses were weird place to fight. Easy to get vantage point like Duke just did but was also hard in a way. Little space made it hard to use wider streaks, easy get backed into corner. Annoying more than anything.

Dani’s wrestling match was so attention grabbing that nobody even looked at Duke, despite his far from subtle arrival. He threw himself forward when he caught telltale shine of the gun in one of goons hands. It was dumb move when Dani was so close to his ally, but who he was to criticize Joker goon’s live choices. It didn’t take Signal long to understand he wouldn’t make it on time. He had to but there was no-

Two gunshots rang in rapid succession split second before Duke got to the goon and, with swiftness granted only by adrenaline and fury people got when someone their got hurt, knocked man out cold. Before body could hit the ground he spun around to see the damage because Dani still refused to wear any armor and from this close goon would have to be Storm Trooper to miss her. Because she was most likely bleeding heavily. What if they hit something instantly lethal?

He faced a fight right in time to see Dani jumping at another goon also openly wielding a gun. He wanted to yell at her but bullets were fired before he got a chance. He looked for blood dripping from her torso while dodging another man  barely taking his eyes off Dani.

“That wasn’t nice,” she sounded like she pouted! At being shot! “If I was anyone else I would be seriously hurt right now, you know?” her voice was somewhat off. Like it wasn’t quite made by her vocal cords but some awkward voice generator.

Before the appalled man could react, he got technically not too good right hook to the jaw. It was strong enough to make him unconscious and get quite loud creak out of his neck. Duke hoped Dani didn’t mess up the guy's spine. He was criminal but he didn’t deserve this type of treatment.

Duke focused back on his own fight when he made sure that girl wasn’t in immediate danger of dying. He dodged running goon again, who literally ran himself into the shelf because of that. Signal used his short confusion to hit him in the side of his neck, rendering the opponent unconscious. Okay, they made it, this was the last-

Another gunshot made his sped-up heart skip a beat. Lump in his throat suffocated him.

No, no, no, no, no-

“I shot you in the face!”

 He looked her way ready to see unmoving body and red decorating concrete floor.

“There was a good quip for- oh right” she started cheerfully, entirely unharmed, before her face twisted into something actually demonic.

“Y̶o̸u̵r̵ ̶p̵e̶s̴k̶y̵ ̴l̷i̷t̶t̸l̶e̸ ̵b̷u̸l̴l̴e̶t̷s̵ ̴w̸o̴n̵'̸t̵ ̵h̶u̵r̶t̸ ̸m̷e̶, ₥ØⱤ₮₳Ⱡ₴”

She laughed in distinctly Dani way, all bright and joyful while also so not like herself, distorted and echoey it mage hairs at the back of his neck stand.

Duke froze when goon fired again and there was no way she dodged it. There was not enough space. She had to get shot. She got shot and he did nothing to stop it. A child got hurt because of him-

He looked at but hadn’t quite seen how Dani knocked out last goon and flew up to him. He heard her voice but words were impossible to understand over rush of blood in his ears. He could tell she was laughing. They should get out. Dani mentioned giggly smell in the air. It had to mean Joker gas. They needed to be out yesterday.

He stumbled a bit, forcing his leg to cooperate, half caring, half dragging girl to the nearest exit point. Fact that he could touch her and didn’t feel any blood was grounding a bit.

“-gnal, Signal are you okay? Your heart is beating weird,” Dani asked, sounding a bit scared for the first time today. Duke’s brain felt too fuzzy to care “Signal, you’re freaking out, calm down, please”

Light assaulted their eyes the moment they were out. Before he got fully used to it, he set girl in front of him and detached her cape. She may have squawked at this action but he didn’t care. She was shot, he needed to check her for injuries.

She got shot, she got shot, she got shot-

“Signal what-” he was clearly freaking her out “Oh. You think I’m hurt. I told you I could handle it. I’m fine. Signal I’m really fine. I have intangibility, bullets can’t hurt me. I’m fine Signal”

Duke wanted to make sure. Adrenaline or simple wish to not worry him could make her ignore something. He couldn’t let her. He made her turn maybe a little to roughly.

He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if she bled out.

She was actually fine.

Relief hit him so strong he crumbled against the wall, his mind finally succumbing to the haze. It was fine. It was all actually fine.

He may have heard some yelling.

Next thing he registered was something tad too warm, almost burning his palms. His gloves did their job of protection well though. There was a herbal smell. Melissa, he registered after a moment. It took him some more time to realize that the source of the smell was in his hands. He had scathingly hot cup of melissa in his hands. He stared at a little bit squashed paper again trying to get used to the light. He didn’t even realize he closed his eyes. Sound of the paper bag made him look up where Dani, still without her cape, crouched few feet away from him.

“You back?” she asked cautiously. Duke wasn’t sure how to answer. He was and he wasn’t. His mouth didn’t work anyway. He shrugged, mindful of the cup in his hands. Blanket, he didn’t even know he was wrapped in, fell from one of his shoulders.

“I don’t know what happened but Jazz likes this tea when she needs to calm down. Though she usually needs to drink it to make it work,” Dani rambled, gesturing widely “You’re still breathing kinda funny, can you slow down? It’s not good for humans to breathe so fast. It doesn’t let good stuff from air get in your blood and travel around your body and it’s not healthy. I know, Jazz told me and she is really smart. She wants to be this doctor who stabs brain back into working. She had this smart word for it… Neurosurgeon, I think it’s this one. She said breathing like that is not good for brain so slow down? In for four, out for four? I don’t know, Signal, just calm down?”

Right, he still was hyperventilating. Duke focused on his lungs, forcing them to expand, trying to match up Dani’s slightly gasping breaths.

He really was freaking her out, wasn’t he?

Melissa was almost lukewarm by the time he was back in his body enough to drink it. It was sweet, a bit too much for his taste.

“You good now?” Dani asked and Duke nodded. He was as good as he could at the moment “Great, I didn’t want to leave you for too long so I don’t have BatBurger. I got cookies though. And I can go get it now”

“Don’t,” he caught her arm and squeezed, not sure why he did it himself.

“Huh?”

“Don’t go anywhere”

“Sure. Wanna cookie? I have chocolate chips and healthy, wheat ones”

“Chocolate”

“Okay” she nodded and fixed blanket on his arms. It was comfy. If Duke was firing on all cylinders, he would wonder where she got it.

“Don’t ever do it again”

“What is it though?”

“Jumping into danger like that”

“Oh, really? It wasn’t that dangerous, they were normal humans”

“They had Joker gas and guns”

“Intangibility means I can ignore bullets Signal, don’t be such worrywart. It’s bad for your health. What’s Joker gas?”

Question and the whole statement felt so surreal that Duke couldn’t help but laugh, choked and hysterical as it was. She didn’t know what Joker gas was. Worrying about her getting shot was bad for his health. He just had a panic attack and was comforted by a ten years old girl with cookies and melissa. What the fuck?

“Hey!” Dani pouted “Don’t laugh like that! Jazz always says that you shouldn’t laugh when someone doesn’t know something, just explain it to them! Signal!” she whined but the damn broke he couldn’t rear his hysteria back in “Alright, I’m Googling it”

She did as Duke’s laughter winded down. He was almost calm when she deemed her research enough.

“Alright, this is some nasty shit”

This sentence startled him into full silence. Dani was ten, swearing wasn’t something she did, like, ever. He must’ve scared her a lot.

“I’m fine though. I didn’t breathe it in. Did you? This laughter sounded a bit worrying to be honest”

“I’m okay, I had gas mask. People sometime laugh to release tension”

“Oh”

“Yeah. But you were in the building with it and didn’t have gas mask”

“I wasn’t breathing”

“You were talking”

“Our fucked up biology, as Danny likes to put it, means that one doesn’t mean another. I just don’t use it often because humans find it uncanny and my throat gets itchy after some time”

Something in Duke wanted to argue more but it was squashed but utter exhaustion that crashed him.

“Alright”

They sat for a long moment.

“Are you ready to patrol now?”

Duke would laugh again if he had any energy left.

“I think we should end for today. I would be useless like that”

“Okay, valid. You go home I’ll fly around a bit”

“No. You’re going home too. I don’t have enough emotional energy to worry about you getting into some mess like this again”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Dani looked away with angry huff.

“Okay. You’re worse than Danny, you know?”

“I don’t care. Go home and stay safe”

“You sure you will be alright if I go now? I can walk or fly you somewhere, not home if you don't want me to but maybe somewhere closer?”

“I’ll be fine. I can call my brother. Just go please”

“Sure. See you tomorrow, Signal. You were really brave today”

“Thank you, Hoopoe” If she answered, he didn’t hear her. He fumbled with his comm to turn it on with still shaky hands. Finally he managed and called a pick up in the form of Jason. It was great to have older brother who always had time like that. Even if it meant a lot of unnecessary questions about what happened Duke wasn’t up to answering it yet and threats of serious violence on his enemies.

Duke couldn't force himself to let go of the orange blanket. It was grounding.

Though Alfred made him hot chocolate with marshmallows. He wouldn’t repeat today for that, but it certainly was nice accent.

*********

"Humouristic" summary of this part

Dani: Yo, there are goons here. Gonna investigate.

Duke: *quietly freaks out*

Random Joker's goons: *do normal goon things*

Dani: *attacks them* HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Duke: Is this what minor heart attack feels like?

Goons: *start shooting*

Duke: Is this what major heart attack feels like?

Dani: Dude, you good? Here, get some tea, cookies and blanket

*

Dani, few hours later, texting: Hey Signal, remeber to bring back my cape tmrw

Duke, internally: Wait, this is her cape?

Duke, also texting: Wanna better one? Like Spoiler has?

Dani, somehow conveing Ghost Speak via text: Don't you dare

Thank you for reading this <3

Next part

[anonymooseforever007]

CATastrophe

(Alfie Solomons x Wife Reader)

Summary: Alfie said the kitten could stay on ONE condition: It couldn't make a mess of anything. And you'd promised him the cute little furball wouldn't dream of spilling even a drop of milk.....Unfortunately the kitten made no such promises....

A/N: Hi y'all! No warnings for this one. This is for Flor's ( @raincoffeeandfandoms ) 2.7k celebration! That I wrote like a year ago before I disappeared, so I'm sorry it took so long 😂😅! But you're amazing!!!❤️ I hope you enjoy this! You said the theme was cats and this idea popped into my head and I ran with it! It's about 90 percent comedic/fluff about when Y/N and Alfie met their kitten, which happens to be on the same day Alfie meets Tommy. So I have changed that part up from canon just a little bit for my own devices.

WC- 7.5k

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh no. No no no no no! Get off that! Off! No! Whhhyyy did you dooo that..... why."

Slight panic swept through your body as you quickly snatched up the ink stained papers off Alfie's desk. 

"Please don't be important. Please don't be important. Please don't be impo.... and they're for the new guy.... great.... Maybe we can clean it off... nope. We are absolutely screwed."

Giving another groan of defeat and burying your head into your arms, you slouched down in your husband's chair. The rain outside seemed to grow darker with your mood. You'd only fallen asleep for fifteen minutes.... but evidently that was all it took for catastrophe to occur. 

"Meow."

And CATastrophe really was the right word for it, given how the instigator of this entire mess was already ignoring your despair... in favor of playing with a loose string on the couch. The small creature wasn't paying any mind to the paw printed papers he'd ruined, nor the blue ink still mattered upon his tiny mitts. Ink that was yet to dry, resulting in a small path of blue paw prints across the stone floor.... And on the desk... And the couch.... And basically everything in the office. There was even a single blue print on the fur right under a sleeping Cyril's nose.

"Oh don't say that. You know what you did."

Sighing again, you stood up and pinched the small kitten up by the back of his neck. You weren't hurting it, instead you'd grabbed it in the hold you'd seen mother cats do many times when carrying their babies down the road. It was the exact grip that would render your captive immobile while you came up with a plan to fix his mistake. Or maybe to escape.

"I mean really?! You heard what Alfie said earlier." Still holding the guilty party gently, you wagged your pointer finger at the naughty thing, much like you did Cyril when he got stole steak off the table. Narrowing your eyes slightly as the kitten only stared, you continued your admonishment, "He said if you made any trouble he'd put you back in the dumpster I found you in. And while he may not actually do it, he'd certainly give you away to someone else. And we can't have that, can we."

The kitten only let out a small noise as if agreeing. Though it would seem that would be enough to melt your frustrated heart. Huffing, you pulled the cat closer to your chest and started petting the top of his head, paying no mind to the ink slowly dying your dress. Moving to the couch you sat down, remembering what had occurred only that morning....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A few hours ago....

"ALFRED!!!"

Jumping slightly at the sudden shout, your husband raised his head from the dozens of papers on his desk. He barely had time to open his mouth before the door to his office swung open with contrasting gentleness from your previous tone. As you stepped through the frame, he could see your coat bundled tightly to your chest. He'd never admit it, but the way you shook your head to get the rain drops off reminded him exactly of Cyril. Like mother like son he guessed. As if your particularly bouncy disposition shouldn't have been enough to tip him off, the look in your eyes told Alfie were this conversation was headed before it even began. Or so he thought.

"We have a cat."

"......No, we don't. We have a dog."

"No, Alfie. We have a cat."

"Cyril's a dog." Alfie was confused now. You did understand that Cyril was a dog right? Did you get brunch with your sister and have too many cups of her special 'tea'? Alfie's brow pulled together as he thought, and a quick glance to the mutt, confirmed that he was indeed looking at a dog. A very big one, who wasn't anywhere near cat size.

"No. Alfie. We. have. a. CAT." You stepped right up to his desk, and placed a small ball of fur right onto his top hat. Just like it was a podium in which to share the world. If Alfie had to guess, he'd have thought you'd placed a clump of Cyril's fur on his hat, but then it started to move. 

In no time, Alfie was matching gazes with a pair of brilliant blue eyes that could rival Tommy Shelby's. Or so Alfie had heard, he was only meeting the man for the first time today, because apparently a simple 'Hello' constituents as a fucking 'Come on over for tea and biscuits, we'll be fucking friends,' in Birmingham... But the brilliance of Tommy's eyes wasn't the biggest thing on the Jewish Gangster's mind right now.

"What the fuck is that?"

"It's a CAT, Alfie. Haven't you been listening to a word I said?"

Sliding around the desk, you pushed Alfie's chair back, just enough so you had space to sit on his good leg. You only grinned, watching the small kitten begin to play with the feather in your husband's hat. Alfie was slightly still stuck in the whole Cyril: Dog or Cat? debate he'd gotten into his head.

"Ok Dovey, but why is it here?"

With a loving sigh, you took Alfie's face in your hands, mindlessly rubbing a thumb over his bearded cheeks.

"It is here because our newest child needs to meet his new daddy." Turning his head so he could see who exactly was 'the child' in question, you continued, "I was bringing back lunch. I heard something mewling from the dumpster. I went over to the dumpster. I found him gnawing away at a half eaten fish head. He was adorable. He was alone. Now he is ours."

The final sentence was said kindly, but firmly. In fact, your whole statement was spoken so 'matter of fact' like and simply. Alfie knew the conversation was already finished. But that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

"Ours? Dovey, I don't know. I'm not really a cat fella. You know that. Besides I've got a meeting in a bit. I don't have time to be taking care of a feral cat. What kind of man would this Peaky fucker take me for if he saw me walking around with a cat on my shoulder?"

Grinning, you gently tapped Alfie's nose as if he'd said something adorable.

"Well, Ally. That's just because you've never had one before. You have to have something to become a something sort of person don't cha? Besides. It's not like you're gonna be the only one taking care of him. I'll be there too! To help you along the way." Then raising and eyebrow you made sure to catch his eye contact before you continued, "Also, before I forget, Alfred. I know it's important to make an impression on possible business partners, but how about this time we keep those impressions non physical, yes? I have no issue with you pointing a gun in their face, but just please stop getting blood on your rings. Try to take them off if you must. I'm tired of having to take your rings to the jeweler to get them fixed because you just had to make a 'lasting impression' when they decided to say one thing you didn't like, alright?"

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you continued your plea for one month without having to get his rings fixed, "Do it for me and sweet old Miss Haversnash who always thinks you've been mugged every time I bring them in. She's 83 years old, and her memory's not what it use to be. Half the time she thinks you've gotten into another boxing match like when you were 16. And the other half, she thinks you're an actual baker with a bad hip who's being constantly being picked on and bullied by the teens who throw glass in the allyway behind her house at night."

Alfie's eyes shot to yours at that statement.you could practically taste the offense coming off of him.

"Wait Dovey... Are you telling her I'm a weak fucking thing that can't even scare off a few kids?"

"No," your sighed, slightly rolling your eyes at the one think you knew would get his attention in that sentence. "I've told her again and again that you can take care of yourself, but she just won't have it. Hell, last time I spent ten minutes convincing her to not take her gun and go shoot the 'cowardly fuckwits who dared mess with such a sweet injured man.' Becca was there too and she can tell you just how hard it was. So I'm asking again Alfie: For all of our sakes, please don't beat this man up today unless he really deserves it."

"And what exactly would really deserving it mean Dovey? Because you know me, I'm a man of honour and I'm not gonna hit a fella unless he's got it coming for him." Alfie clasped his hands together as he spoke, like if he did so you'd agree with him.

"Right," you nodded in response, somewhat mocking him. Technically he wasn't lying, by you knew there were times when your husband's definition of 'deserve' varied greatly from the average person's. And while he didn't regularly beat up any poor workers for a simple accident, some of the more annoying ones might as well have been walking on snowflakes over a volcano during his bad days. "Alfie, good behaviour today, deal. Because remember? The longer I spend at the shop getting your rings fixed, the less time I have to get ready for tonight. And Alfie?" You questioned as you leaned your lips to his ear, "I got a pretty new nightgown I've been waiting to show off. It would be a shame if you were to miss it because you were too busy dealing with another man and I fell asleep waiting for you..."

"Is that so poppet," Alfie chucked quietly, moving his hand to you hips and rubbing slow circles. With a sly smirk you nodded, moving one of your own hands down to his upper thigh. Groaning softly, Alfie leaned back in his chair to draw you face towards his for a deep kiss that would probably result in him being late for his meeting. 

"Mrrrrrroooow!"

Remembering there was audience, you pulled back from your husband. Alfie made a noise of his own, one of almost offended shock, crossed a confused huff. Looking at the cat, he narrowed his eyes. It wasn't that he already regretted letting the small thing stay this long, but Alfie never enjoyed your attention being torn away from him. Especially when he could have used that attention to make you think of him for the rest of the day. Though you paid no mind to that.

"Oh, don't worry sweetheart. I'm still gonna keep you safe. Come here sugar, time to say hello to your new papa."

Reaching across the desk you picked up the kitten from his 'podium'. Pulling him closer, you gently laid the creature on Alfie's chest in a way that forced him to cup the animal in his hands so it wouldn't fall. You knew once Alfie touched the kitten he'd be sold. And to further your luck, as soon as the kitten was settled on Alfie's chest, it had stated purring in contentment. You may have been Cyril's preference, but there was no doubt who this baby favored.

"See! He loves you! You can't give up on him now. He's already so attached. Even Cyril likes him!" You stated, indicating to the curious pup who was already sniffing gently at the kitten. The baby cat also seemed curious, reaching out a tiny paw to gently bat the dog's nose. In response, Cyril jumped back and barked happily, bending down into his playing position. However it seemed like the poor kitten was not as eager to start playing. With a tiny hiss, he startled, scratching Alfie's hand to be released, before clawing his way up the man's chest under the safety of Alfie's beard. 

"Oh for the love of....fuck. Grab it will ya?" Alfie huffed, his eyes raised to the ceiling as he couldn't lower his chin or risk crushing the cowering cat. Laughing when your eyes met brilliant blue, you couldn't help but coo as you carefully detangled the pair.

"Shuu. It's alright baby. It's ok. Cyril didn't mean to scare you. He's only excited to have a new brother. I promise we'll work on being gentler." Comforting scratches under the cats chin seemed to finally relax its fears. Still sitting on Alfie's lap, you held the cat with one hand and stuck out your other for Cyril to sniff. Seeming to take the hint, Cyril slowly inched forward until his head rested in your palm. Though he was standing still like a good boy, Alfie could practically feel the dog's urge to wag his tail and lick the kitten again. Over the next few minutes you slowly moved the kitten closer and closer to the dog again until the pair was right next to each other.

"See baby, Cyril's just a bug ole fluff ball. He didn't mean to scare you." Still remaining calm, both you and your husband grinned, watching the cat reach out and cautiously climb from your hand onto Cyril's head. Making a small circle and a few biscuits, the kitten seemed to be satisfied and promptly curled up on Cyril's head. By now the dog couldn't contain his excitement and his tail could be seen wagging happily as he tried to stay still.

"There! They already love each other! Isn't it the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

"It may very well be cute love, but do I look like the type of man who should be surrounded by cute?" With an arched eyebrow, Alfie raised his hands as if to show off all the "cute" things currently not surrounding him at the paper filled office in the middle of an illegal distillery.

As Cyril made his way back to his dog bed, the kitten still perched on his back, you took the time to turn to your husband and cuddle into him more. After all, a little bit of affection never hurt your cause before did it? But Alfie still seemed a bit uncertain.

"Well you certainly don't have any problem being surrounded by me, do ya? And you were saying just last night how cute I was whe.... Hello Ollie! Do you like our new cat? I still haven't thought of a name yet. Any ideas?"

Immediately you switched topics as the tall man walked through Alfie's open door while bearing papers. Though judging by the blush on his ears, he'd already over a head the last sentence and knew where it was going. Alfie just grunted quietly and shifted you on his lap a little as the memories of last night came to his mind. He had absolutely no qualms about Ollie hearing about your marital bliss, but you still tried to spare the younger man's feelings. He'd been married six years and had three kids (with another on the way), but how the man still blushed at the word sex, you didn't know. His wife certainly didn't have the same issue, which is why you made a point of having her for tea at least once a week. She was the mousiest little thing ever, but boy did she have some fun ideas. And she always knew the most interesting books for a a good read. Plus, she made really good chocolate pound cake. Yes, it was safe to say if (heavens forbid) you ever cheated on your husband, it would only be with Ollie's Rebecca. She would have jumped on the cat idea without hesitation. In-fact, she would have already made the animal his own little coat by now. 

"Oh...you have a cat now," Ollie sputtered out, ignoring Alfie's slight 'don't encourage her' glare. Partially because he wasn't afraid of Alfie when you were there, and also because he knew if the cat didn't go with you, it would end up at his house...again. So humoring you was likely his best bet if he wanted to keep what little remained of his space on the bed. "That's nice. Seems to get along with Cyril well."

"Don't they! That's just what I was telling Alfie. Such close friends already, how can you tear them apart."

Still uncertain, Alfie tried one more weak plea.

"I don't know Dovey... It's not even trained. I don't want a cat tearing up my papers before a meeting."

But once more you only smiled, and brushed away his concerns. 

"Alfie. That's ok. He's just a baby now. There'll be time for training. Besides, he's been perfect so far. I promise, this cat will be absolutely no trouble at all..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present time...

"You are in so much trouble mister."

Again the kitten only meowed and continued to gently bat at your necklace. You still hadn't settled on a name for him yet. So sorrow you'd just taken to calling him the many different pet names you also used on Cyril, Alfie, Goliath, and occasionally Ollie. This entire conversation really was one sided. Your criminal counterpart (well the four legged baby one) couldn't care less about the words coming from your mouth. Glancing around the room you tried to think of a plan. 

"Ok, first thing's first sugarstop, we need to clean you off before you can go signing any more important documents..... But the closet sink is in the kitchens. That might pose an issue." 

Alfie had gone out to meet Mr. Shelby about half an hour ago leaving you, Cyril and, 'the furball' to your own devices. Considering, if Alfie actually decided to play nice today, that a tour of the bakery would take about an hour...You had to be very very quick. But also considering that Alfie always took the same route for his tours, you'd also have to be sneaky because the bakery (the real one) was right at the front of the shop by Alfie's office. Which meant if he hadn't decided to kill this new fucker, then they'd be headed your way and very soon. 

Looking down at the kitten again you knew you'd have to find a way to sneak him to the kitchens, or his blue paws would give up the whole gig. Glancing around the room your searched for something nonchalant to hide the cat in for the short journey. Suddenly your eyes landed on an object sitting by the corner of Alfie's desk..... purrrfect...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy / Third Person POV

Thomas Shelby didn't know how to feel about Alfie Solomons. 

But he knew one think for certain.... This Alfie was fucking insane. A partnership with this man might kill him even more painfully than a gang war against him. But then again, Tommy had stopped caring if he'd die long ago, so the way it happened really didn't make much difference these days. As long as his family didn't go with him he figured he'd be just fine. And so if a deal with a mad man was what it took to beat Sabini, then a deal with a mad man he'd make... and hopefully not become one in the process. 

These were the thoughts running through Tommy's head as he followed the other man around the 'bakery', while pretending like he'd already regained feeling in his left elbow and that the ringing in his right ear didn't exist. He really didn't care what Alfie was saying, or about the front the man had put up for his rum business. As far as Tommy was concerned, he just wanted to make the damned deal and go to Ada's house to sleep. But seeing Alfie pause during the tour (again) only too to berate a random worker didn't raise his hopes up. Resisting the urge to knock his head into the wall, Tommy just raised an eyebrow at the scene and waited for Alfie to be done. Suddenly, he heard a fast paced yet soft clicking noise. Like someone was headed towards them, but walking on their toes in an effort be quiet. Unconsciously, he reached for his gun, only to freeze when the approacher turned the corner. 

It was a woman with blue ink stains on her dress and (more oddly) wearing a top hat far too large to be hers...

Tommy could barely see her eyes from under the brim of the hat, and it seemed her vision was just as limited. Head ducked down, she seemed more interested in the ground than anything else. Or maybe like she was trying to hide something. Unconsciously Tommy reached for his gun again. He'd been tricked by a pretty woman before and he didn't plan on letting it happen again. While Alfie continued to quietly threaten talk to his tenth worker of the day, Tommy'a gaze remained fixed on the woman walking towards them. 

Suddenly Alfie slammed his fist against the wall, before he grabbed the man by his collar and pulled the worker towards him. It was so close in-fact, their noses were almost touching. Both Tommy's head and the hat woman's shot over to the angry man. But while the Birmmingham man said nothing, the mystery woman wasn't so silent now. And Tommy didn't know to be more confused or amused when he woman pulled a button out of her pocket and threw it at the bearded man's head to get his attention.

"ALFRED!"

Dropping his wide eyed victim back on his feet, Alfie stepped back and raise his hands in mock surrender. It was evident that this was regular conversation in the bakery. Spinning around to face the pair of onlookers, the bearded man barely even blinked at the hat upon the woman's head. That must have been a regular occurrence too.

"Oi! Why aren't you back at the office?! We agreed you were staying there until this was finished."

Raising an eyebrow at his harsh tone, the woman mimicked Alfie's crossed arms and tilted her head just slightly. It was then Tommy thought he heard a slight mewl coming from her hat, but chalked it up to his still cracked skull. After all, why would a hat be making cat noises? Though before he could question it, the woman spoke again.

"First off, I am not one of your workers. Alfred, You will not use that tone with me. I am not the one who pissed you off, I am not the one who gets the backlash. You know how it works. Second, we never agreed on anything of the matter. You just got up and left when you heard Ollie trying to keep someone out. And third.... I... I wanted to wash my hands in the kitchen. I spilled some ink when writing a letter."

Both men heard the slight hesitation in her last sentence, and while Tommy didn't care enough to question it, Alfie wasn't so convinced. Again Tommy heard a small meowing from her hat, and thought he saw it shift slightly on her head. Almost like someone had just barely bumped into the woman, jostling it slightly, which was odd seeing as there was at least an arms length distance between her and anyone else. Then the noice came again, more frustrated this time and he wasn't so sure it was fake. Additionally by now, the Birmingham gangster had realised this woman obviously wasn't just a random secretary. No, this little conversation was one that took place between two of a far more intimate relationship.

"You spilled ink writing a letter? Really?.... wait. Dovey? Why are there tiny paw prints on your dress? Did the fucking rat do it?"

Having been completely forgotten by, what he assumed was a couple now, Tommy watched as the woman gasped slightly and unconsciously placed a hand over her hat. What was she protecting? And why wouldn't that fucking cat noise go away? Maybe he should have stayed in the hospital for longer. The hat shifted again seemingly by magic.

"Rat?! Alfie you know he's not a rat! And just because he's a bit mischievous doesn't mean this was his fault."

This time it was Alfie's turn to raise his eyebrow. "What do you mean 'this' Poppet? It was only a letter wasn't it? A few spots of ink? He didn't cause any trouble, did he? Where is the little runt anyway? And why've you got my hat on?"

But before anyone could speak again, a determined yowl released itself from the hat, as the object forcefully flipped itself off her head. Unable to hide his shock and confusion, Tommy watched with wide eyes as the hat practically flew towards the ground until it was caught by Alfie. 

Silence reigned in the warehouse for a few moments. Everyone was staring at the 'magic' hat in suspense, waiting to see what it would do next. 

Then, with a rather satisfied purr, a blue pawed kitten popped his head out of the hat.

"....is that a cat?"

It was Tommy who (for once) spoke first, breaking the human silence that still hovered over the group. Forgetting the mess back in the office, the woman finally turned towards him, as if just registering his presence.

"Yes, it is! Isn't he just the cutest li....Alfie!"

Her words had trailed off and then turned to shock as she took in the state of the stranger before her.

Putting it nicely, Thomas Shelby looked like shit.

With a bruised up face and blood shot eyes, there was also a small drop of blood beginning to run from his nose, almost as if he couldn't get it to stop bleeding.

Holding the cat hat in one hand, Alfie raised the other in self defense and pointed at Tommy accusingly.

"He came like that, Dovey! It wasn't me. Doesn't have a single fucking ring mark on him, I swear!"

Observing his torn up state again, the woman gave Tommy another once over, before looking back at Alfie and sighing like she had the confirmation she wanted. With that her shoulders relaxed again and it was like she wasn't giving any more thought to Tommy's beat up state since Alfie wasn't the one who'd done it.

"....Alright, I believe you. Are you sure he's not just gonna dro...."

"I'm Thomas Shelby....And you are?" Having enough of not knowing who this woman was, Tommy interrupted the couple before they could start another conversation. 

Turning to face Tommy again, the woman suck out her own ink covered fingers to shake his outstretched hand. 

"Right, I'm Y/N. You must be the new man Alfie mentioned. It's nice to meet you." 

Tommy politely nodded in agreement, and stepped back once the introduction was over. Behind Y/N, he noticed Alfie's narrowed gaze, as he made physical contact with her. Truthfully, the imitating glare was dampened by the small cat in the hat Alfie was still holding on to. Especially when the animal started reaching up to play with the string on Alfie's necklace. 

Before another silence could settle upon the group, Alfie leaned off the wall he was resting against and promptly handed the hat/cat to his wife. Then throwing his arm almost amicably around Tommy's shoulders, he turned the pair of them around and started walking towards the exit. 

"Well this has been a nice fucking meet up hasn't it? Lovely meeting you, the tea was great, blah, blah, blah. You'll be headed out now."

As the men reached the door, Alfie let go of his grip Tommy and released the man for a hand shake of his own. And while Tommy was truthfully glad to finally be leaving this made house, he couldn't help but be curious and slightly confused about what was going on. 

"What about our deal?"

"Well, we'll just have to cover that next time you invite yourself over here won't we treacle. This was just a fucking warm up, meet and greet. I don't know if I want you lot poking your noses where they don't belong just yet do it. Come back tomorrow and we'll have a chat."

"Next Friday."

Turning, both men looked at Y/N who had followed behind them, and apparently wanted to change the date of their next meeting.

"Huh, Poppet?"

Gesturing towards Tommy's less than healthy state, she explained the situation to her husband. 

"Alfie look at him. A half-blind elderly ladybug could kill him right now." She also made sure to catch Tommy's eyes as she continued, "You can come back at the end of the week. Three O' Clock. Not sooner and if you're going to be late at least call first."

Tommy couldn't only nodded in agreement and slight confusion. Something about the way she spoke told him she'd already decided how this conversation would go. With a short nod he made his way out of the bakery and back to his car. Truthfully he was glad to finally be able to leave. He was tired and his head was killing him, and quite frankly there was something off putting about Alfie. But he couldn't put his finger on it. Now just yet. As he drove to Ada's house there was only in thing on his mind...

No matter how bad the relationship got between the two gangs, Y/N Solomons was never to be touched. Because Alfie Solomons was fucking crazy. And SHE might have been the only bit of sanity he had left. And Tommy didn't want to see how much blood would run when that bit was lost...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N / Second Person POV again a few minutes later

"So. How many papers am I going to have to type up again because furball here decided to go ink happy in the office?"

Humming innocently, you continued to avoid eye contact with your husband as  the pair of you walked back to his office, clean kitten in hand. After Tommy had left, you made the unspoken decision to clean the cat off first and then discuss the situation. But now as Alfie's office door approach once again, you couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. 

It wasn't that you thought Alfie was mad. Truth be told, you knew he wasn't. Having married him over a decade ago, you'd gotten to know every one of his little quirks and signed to his emotions. Just like he knew yours. And you knew if he really was frustrated or wanted to talk to discuss something important with you he'd never do it in-front of someone else. 

It was something you both agreed on when you'd gotten married. Being mad at the other was alright. No relationship is perfect and conflict is bound to occur. But that didn't mean it would be healthy for those feeling to stew. So upon the wedding day you'd talked and agreed on three things. First: if the other hurt your feelings or made you mad, let them know about it with words. Actions may show passion, but words speak clarity. Second: Never let the anger stew longer than a day. Try not to go to bed angry and make amends of the day. So the small bump doesn't become a mountain by the end of the week. And Third: NEVER bring down one in the presence of others. Unless the other is about to do something really wrong, you'd stand as a united front through thick and thin. Fighting may be fine, but it would be done out of everyone else's business. You marriage was a private matter and besides, no one liked being the onlooker to a shouting couple. And while the rules had become a bit deeper and more complex and your marriage lengthened and love continued to grow, you'd both still held each other strictly to them even today. 

And that's how you knew Alfie wasn't really mad about the interruption. If it really had irked him, he would have sent Tommy with Ollie and talked to you in the office alone. But he hadn't. Sure he'd accidentally been a bit rude when you'd first come upon him. But that was mainly because he was still channeling his frustration at the man who'd pissed him off. Besides. You were probably right to call him out that time. For his tone though.... and maybe a little bit for threatening a new young worker who simply mixed up the words bread and rum when being asked directly about the rum. But it was an important distinction AND he did have to show Tommy he meant business. Especially since he wasn't allowed to leave a 'physical' impression, this time either.... Maybe next time though. Alfie had told Tommy he didn't want to make a deal yet, but that wasn't quite true. He'd known the moment the bastard walked in, that this man could be either really good (or bad) for business. Alfie had also knew this man needed a better sense of humor too.

That was another thing too, you noticed. Alfie hadn't held back on the quips he'd be making during your initial 'interrogation' AND he'd actually let Tommy shake your hand. What the Birmingham gangster had yet to realise is that Alfie Solomons did in fact like him. If he hadn't there would have been a Shelby shaped blood stain on the dock ground minutes after he'd stepped off his dingy little boat he'd sailed down the Cut in. So the fact Alfie hadn't "accidentally" tripped the man down the stairs for interrupting you was definitely a positive sign that you'd be seeing the blue eyed man very soon...

"Fucking Hell! Little devil spawn really did a number didn't he?"

Distracted from your own inner thoughts, you met your husband's gaze as he finished his spin of the office. It was evident that Ollie (bless him) had already been through and cleaned up most of the scattered papers and toppled plants. During your short nap the cat had managed to undo the two hours of tidying you'd done just to curb your boredom that morning before finding the clawed culprit. So despite Ollie's best efforts, there was still a stark trail that someone else hadn't been on his best behaviour. Namely, the royal blue trail of tiny paw prints that lead on just about every surface in the office. Seeing them again, you couldn't help but feel guilty for you part in this.

"I'm sorry Alfie. I really didn't mean for this to happen. I fell asle..."

"Oh hush Dovey. I'm not mad at you."

Curiously, you couldn't help it as you tilted your head. You knew he wasn't furious, but you figured he would at least be a little frustrated that his couch was permanently covered in the cutest little stains ever. 

"What do you mean? You're not mad about the mass rampage?"

Shaking his head, Alfie only opens his arms to pull you close as he settled down in the couch.

"Nope. Infact I think it's rather nice timing the little bastard had isn't it?" And for the first time that day, Alfie willingly stretched out his hand for the animal to sniff. After two seconds, you both chuckled and the kitten practically faced planted in his effort to cuddle Alfie's hand. Shoving his nose as deep as he could into Alfie's palm, the kitten began to curl up right there. 

"Nice timing? Alfie, not only did he ruin the papers for your deal, but he quite literally almost threw himself to death trying to get your attention," you retorted, brushing a single finger along the cat's back. "And I have to add to Love, seeing you hold him in that hat wasn't exactly the message you were hoping to send was it?" 

"Na Dovey," Alfie shrugged and settled leaned further against the couch. "Those weren't the papers I was gonna give him. Just a draft of it if he wasn't a total prick. But I'd say he fail that test, Love. It's a good thing you came when you did. I'm not to sure how I feel about that fella. Bit of a bore if I'm being honest. Needs to be a bit less serious."

The last part of his words were mumbled as Alfie tilted his head back towards the ceiling again. Happily, the kitten had once again climbed from his hand to right below his beard. 

"Now what's that mean?"

Alfie didn't answer, only grumbled. Evidently you weren't suppose to hear that last part.

"Alfie...."

Shrugging innocently, Alfie avoided making eye contact until the moment you took his face in your hands again. You couldn't help but smirk, as his face fell into a small pout, reminding you of Cyril when he didn't get extra treats for his bedtime snack.

"....He didn't like any of my jokes? All those wonderful little tidbits that I spent so long thinking of to break the tension, and not even one little snort?" Alfie complained, his nose wrinkling as he thought of the stoic man's manner. "I mean really Dovey, he didn't even smirk at my 'Fucking Biblical' quip! How am I suppose to work with a fella who can't find the humor in that!

Gasping dramatically, you frowned sympathetically and ran you fingers through the hair behind Alfie's ears.

"Awe! He didn't even laugh at your Fucking Biblical joke? Wow, Alfie, Darling that's just cold. I'm not even sure how you survived such a mean man." You cooed, talking in the voice you did when you were mocking Cyril for not having opposable thumbs.

"EXACTLY! Barely got through one meeting with the fucker and that wasn't even about the important stuff." 

"Aweee, you poor dear. All that hard thinking and not even a smile? Maybe he was just a shy fella Alfie?" Smirking you,  placed a finger under your husband's chin and lifted it up as you tried to ease his 'sorrows' from a 'tough' meeting. "And by the next meeting he'll open up and become a real hoot?"

"Maybe Dovey. But I suppose we'll have to see then won't we? And if he still hasn't pulled the stick out of his ass by then we'll know what kinda man he really is," Alfie declared. "Any man who can't take a good joke ain't a man I'm gonna be working with."

"Alrighty then. I suppose it's settled."

"Damn right it is Dovey. I got a code yeah. And I'm gonna stick by it no matter what some suck up little Birmingham horse fuck thinks of it."

Jokingly ruffling Alfie's hair you laughed at his deceleration. "Good on you Love, sticking your ground. If he can't handle a bit of fun then he's not worth the time is he?"

"Not a single thought Dovey, not a single thought." Alfie stated, closing his eyes as his head remained facing the ceiling. The kitten once again meowed as if agreeing....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A peaceful quiet settled over the office. Cyril was asleep at your feet again, and you had taken to leaning against Alfie's shoulder watching the rain fall outside. The kitten was still snuggled up under Alfie's beard. Only his small but sharp claws and Alfie's reclined form were keeping him from sliding down your husband's chest. Alfie's eyes remained closed but eventually he had freed one hand to gently stroke the kitten's side. If one were to looked over at the pair they would have seen a small tail poking out from between Alfie's beard gently swishing happily. 

It wasn't until Ollie's phone in the next room rang that the serenity your little family had found was interrupted.

The sudden high pitched ringing scared the small creature taking refuge under Alfie's beard. With a whining hiss, the kitten clawed his way out of Alfie's beard and up onto his head, trying to get to as high of ground as he could. Alfie cursed as the small claws hit his face. And while you half expected Alfie to drop the cat in your lap and find the number for the nearest shelter, instead he surprised you. Before the kitten could put out one of Alfie's eyes, the man grabbed the creature gently and held him aloft by the back of his neck like you had done earlier. 

"Alrighty mate. Now that's just fucking rude isn't it," Alfie began, talking to the kitten with authority, much like he did with Ollie. "Because that old thing in there isn't gonna hurt you, and you should know that. It's just noise and there isn't any reason for you to go off like how you did, Furry. Here I am trying to be nice and let you curl up on my chest, when I could very well be cuddling up with me darling wife, your mum, over there yeah?" With a tilt of his head, Alfie motioned to you as if clarifying who he was missing out on in his efforts to be nice. Then with a manoeuvre you didn't understand, Alfie gently rolled his hand so the kitten was lying belly up in his palm. With a stare, your husband continued on his ramble, "And now you may not yet be familiar with the rules in this house yet, but when a man offers you a warm place to lay, you don't go trying to put out his eyes now. Unless he's trying to hurt ya or something and the warm chest was a trap. In that case, you draw as much blood as you can and give no fucking mercy, ya hear? So there isn't gonna be any more of it when I'm around yeah? We don't do that here and you're gonna stick to that alright?"

It was a rather amusing sight. Your big 'scary' husband telling off an animal that weighed less than a bottle of rum with the same tone he would his new men when giving them instructions for the bakery. You finally understood how true Alfie's words were when he said he wasn't a cat person. Cyril he had been able to comfort right from the start, but now it was as if Alfie was holding a small man who hadn't been meeting his daily quota. This man truly had no idea how to care for a cat. And it was hard to hold off a laugh as Alfie ended his speech with a gently poke to the cat's stomach for good measure.

While laying in Alfie's palm the kitten's limbs had still been somewhat curled up. But as soon as his finger hit the animal's stomach, his little legs shot out like a star. Pausing, Alfie moved his finger back, and watched as the kitten's legs pulled back into their original position like on a spring. The with childlike curiosity almost, you watched your husband slowly poked the kitten's stomach again, gaining the same reaction as before. And then again, and again, and again. Soon enough Alfie was playing a hilarious version of 'stick them up' as a small smile grew on his face. 

"So I take it he can stay?" You gently interrupted. Pausing in his movements, Alfie turned towards you and then looked towards the kitten and then back to you. Pursing his lips he tilted his head from side to side for a few seconds, thinking of his answer. Then with a heavy sigh as if making a tough decision he shrugged his shoulders.

"I suppose we can keep him around for a bit longer Dovey. He's proved his worth."

Beaming you leaned over to give Alfie a kiss on the cheek ... which he turned into a kiss on the lips. Finally giving up his game with the kitten, Alfie placed the small animal on Cyril's back again so he could pull you over to his lap. It was you who initiated the kiss as you leaned farther against him, deeper into the couch. But this time, it was actually Alfie who pulled back first from the kiss before it got too far.

"Say Dovey, have you given any thought to what we're naming the Furball yet? Because I'm not calling it Baby or Sweetheart forever."

Pulling back, you sat up and thought. Then your eyes landed on the stained papers and an almost wicked grin grew on your face. 

"I can think of one name. But you have to promise to hear me out."

"Yeah? And what's that Dovey?"

"....Tommy."

"Fuck no," Alfie shot up with furrowed brows. "Why the fuck to you want to name the cat that? Not after that boring sickly fucker back there do ya? What's so great about him that he deserves a nice little thing like this being named after him."

"Well you just said why yourself Love," you chuckled. "You know exactly why it is a fitting name for him."

"Yeah and what's that....?"

"I mean, he is just a little thing after all...."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Down the hallway, Ollie jumped, startled by the deep laughter of his boss echoing from the office. But at the same time he smiled, know he hadn't lost any more space on his bed. Not today at least. The same thing wouldn't be said next week. When at the same dumpster, Y/N and Becca found three more kittens...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TAG LIST (Based on what I've gathered from before I got off and what I think I refound, if I'm wrong and you wanted to get off a tag list or on one you can look at this post here and let me know :) )

Peaky Everything-

@raincoffeeandfandoms @zablife @theshelbyslimited @tommyshelbywhore

Peaky Romantic -

@optimisticsandwichgladiator

[002yb]

No pressure, but I can't stop wondering about what happens in the Secretary AU when Bruce needs to travel for work--does he take Jason, having him act as his PA, or does Bruce go insane while tasking someone to look after him in Gotham while he's gone? And if he DOES tag along, what happens with Damian?

Oh! This is such an interesting idea to ponder. It's not something I'd considered before, but let's explore all the options!

In which Jason goes with Bruce:

It's 10% business, 90% Bruce wants to take Jason to all the places Jason never got to see before, but had always made passing comments about

Bruce wants to give Jason the world. Whatever tries to get between him and that dream will rue the day.

Only that 'whatever' is Damian. The boy that Jason cares for and works his schedule around.

Cue Bruce stewing as he plots on how to pawn off the child so that Bruce can have his babygirl Jason for a few days. Bruce will make this venture happen. Where there's a will, there's a way, and his will is unyielding.

Just as unyielding: Damian

Their first (unbeknownst to them) father-son meeting would be a standoff over Jason and it sets the tone of their future together so well ahahaha. Just Damian hating Bruce on principle for taking Jason away from him. And Bruce relenting because 'he's the adult,' and assuring Damian that he'll take care of Jason while they're away. And Damian clicks his tongue at him, scowling the meanest scowl and Bruce's eye twitches because what a little brat. But also? Those are Jason's habits through and through, damn it. How endearing.

More endearing is how Jason kneels down with Damian and chides him even as he offers sweet comforts. Touches fleeting because Jason is fretting over this boy. It's sweet. Gentle in a way Jason always was at heart and still so clearly is.

('Don't be mean to my boss, it's not his fault. Once we finish working I'll be back. I'll bring a souvenir, huh?' To which Alfred would give Bruce a look, because this 'business' isn't particularly pressing. It's entirely fabricated, one might say. Bruce.)

Jason parting with a press of their foreheads and an earnest request for Damian to mind Mr. Pennyworth and that Jason will come back to him as soon as he can. ;3;

And yes, Alfred is thriving because finally he gets to spend time with his grandson (though at this point no one would know just how true that sentiment is lol)

Damian? Not so much. But he plays it tough for Jason even if his face is pinched and his eyes are glassy and ahhhhhhh little baby sniffles that breaks Jason's heart because he's a parent walking away from their kid for the first time fffffffffff

Anyway, Bruce and Jason get as far as sitting in the car, parked in the driveway. Because Bruce can't in good faith drive off while Jason looks so distraught. There's something more going on than simple anxiety of leaving a child for some days, so with a rare show of compassion and grace, Bruce waits

And Jason gets embarrassed because he's worked up. All anxiety and uncertainty and not wanting to go but knowing he has to. Shaking hands and short breaths. Scrubbing his eyes in frustration before laughing pitifully and apologizing because it's stupid.

But it's not. Not if it's upsetting his boy so much. And Bruce has learned this from his mistakes before, so: 'Talk to me.'

Cue: amnesia reveal!!

Jason admits that for him, there's nothing before Damian. So to leave him is to leave behind the only comfort and security he's ever known. ;3;

And it breaks Bruce's heart because oh. To have tried to force Jason to walk away from something so important when his boy isn't ready. Obviously there's something there to talk about, but Bruce won't push. Not when even this was given in desperation.

Heartstrings tugged, Bruce leaves the car without a word

And Jason hits his head against the back rest and contemplates how he just got himself fired for being a hot mess

Only then Bruce returns with Alfred and Damian because they'll all go together, how about that? ;U;

Extra to the above:

When Bruce tries to force Jason's hand and Jason protests because he has an actual child that he can't leave, Bruce proposes that Alfred look after him. Which, damn. Jason has no argument for that; not really. Still, he has to float it by his other employer first!

Which Bruce is eager to speak with them. Put him on the phone if that will help. To which Jason snickers and snarks that there's no way Bruce could charm this lady. Nor buy her out. Jason's got this, chill.

(Meanwhile, Jason. Secretly hoping Talia will say no and being OTL when she agrees. Because little does Jason know that Talia is very charmed by Bruce lol).

Also, something with Bruce making guilty eye contact with Tim from across the office after Bruce unintentionally manipulates Jason into attending a 'business trip' with him when Bruce's attempts at vacationing goes rebuffed.

Just the deadpan judgment in Tim's eyes and the way Bruce would OTL because he knows, go away.

Bruce got flustered and panicked when it looked like Jason was about to turn him down, okay??

Also, Tim grumbling under his breath about Bruce and his HR violations and being the greatest HR risk to ever grace corporate America.

The other route, where Bruce goes and Jason stays:

Hands down, Tim is responsible for watching over Jason

Dick isn't allowed within a mile radius of him

Don't think Batman won't call in a favor to get back to Gotham the moment Dick pings past Bruce's stupid security. He's watching.

Pffft, the way Superman would ??? because it's not like Bruce to call for him? Especially for something so...trivial?

Only there's nothing trivial about Dick and his shenanigans, Clark. His babygirl's virtue is not trivial, CLark. D:<

But also Bruce overlooking the glaring error of his ways because Tim is essentially with Jason 24/7 between WE and staking patrol outside of Jason’s apartment ahahaha

Bruce seriously comes back and all of a sudden everything between these two is electrically charged and he’d brood over it so hard, forever stewing behind the steeple of his hands because ffs

One more bit with brotherly shenanigans bonding ft dickjay and timjay:

Where Tim and Jason have playful bants while the boss is away

Tim leaning against the doorframe of Bruce’s office to chat at Jason since Bruce had Jason’s desk moved as close as possible without actually being in Bruce’s office lolol

Or Tim leaning over Jason from behind as they review some correspondence that needs to go out

And Jason sitting on Tim’s desk to make sure he eats the food Jason brought him

Tim being all sorts of pleased and relieved because Jason acts as his PA since Tim takes over all of Bruce’s work while he’s out of office and wwwwww lighthearted flirts about poaching Jason for himself

A fireable offense, surely, given Bruce is Bruce

But yeah. Just timjay having a chill time together and it’s sweet. //u///

As for dickjay—

While the bat is away the robin will play, as it goes

So Dick keeps up with his usual visits of course. But one day he shows up incognito, dressed so smart and dashing for business. Slacks and a button down and hair done, looking good and feeling cheeky lol

And Jason freezes up because omg

Corporate kink awakened?

Jason, rosy cheeked and trying not to stare but very much 👀, tongue tied and too warm under the collar telling Dick that he looks nice

And Dick laughs a bit under his breath and tells Jason he looks nice, too ;////;

The occasion? Tim taking them out to a nice lunch at some fancy restaurant ahhhhhhhhh and they send Bruce a pic of all of them on their little date fffffff 💖

Meanwhile Bruce is in some business meeting, very blatantly looking at his phone beneath the table and being equal parts >C (because he’s gonna beat these punkasses off his babygirl with a stick when he gets home) and ;u; because those are his boysssss together at last as they always should have been!!

[punkeropercyjackson]

@cassieopeiia said yes when i offered to repost my afro-dominican Jason Todd headcanons so they could finally have some accurate latino Jason content so here!!

Both sets of his grandparents were inmigrants who made sure to teach their kids their culture and Bruce,Talia and Alfred did research so he could still grow up in it after he was adopted so he's not disconnected from his culture like you'd expect

Is darkskinned with a big nose,full lips,green eyes and shoulder length black dreads with one of them being white from The Lazarus Pit.As Robin,he wore his hair short and natural(as in,his classic curls but even thicker)

Speaks spanish often enough that it's a consistent part of his speech patterns but dosen't have an accent since he's so good at both it and english

90s/2000s anime kid but specifically watched the episodes and read the mangas in latino spanish whenever he could(Definitely a merch collector too!!!Nothing weird though,i feel the need to say that,he just loves buying volumes and figures and replicas of weapons and plushies-The last one is a secret though)

Has his pre-reboot Robin characterization but got victim blamed and a bad rep anyway because of antiblackness and xenophobia

Bullying Tim for being a gringo is one of his favorote hobby's

Duke and him compare their similar yet different experiences with blackness and got along even quicker than canon thanks to it

Mentors Damian's team The All New Teen Titans and next to Damian,the member he's closest to is Nell

Takes great care of his hair and will sometimes wear red beads-He actually has a couple sets in different shades!!!

Says his favorite color is red because it represents blood on his country's flag and nobody can tell wether he's joking or not

Sometimes feels guilty for 'being a stereotype' due to the whole being born to poor parents who were also addicts and growing up to be a huge asshole with anger issues and a thirst for violence but rarely lets it get to him because he thinks he's the coolest mf to ever exist(but we all know he's actually a boyloser)

Aave user,with his favorite word from it being 'deadass'

And he makes the obvious 'Concha' jokes too for irony because he's demisexual and aceflux

Loves his country's cuisine-especially flan,it's tied with neapolitan as his favorite dessert!-but his favorite type of latino food is mexican!Tres leches cake and tacos and burritos and mexican hot chocolate and all that make his mouth water like Atlantis

Wears traditional festive clothes for special occasions and if he can't,he'll just refuse to go("I'm not going out in public in that!" "It's literally a tux???" "You call that a tux?It dosen't even have shoulder pads!Don't patronize me,Dickardo.")

Listens to bachata for nostalgia reasons and has some songs memorized but generally a female rappers/death metal bands/punk rock kinda guy

Black and latino memes connoiseur,both the classics and newer ones

Adores dominican folklore and uses it's horror mythos as inspo as Red Hood

Thinks 'showing affection means you aren't tough!' is gringo nonsense so he's pretty open about if he likes someone,be it platonic or romantic

Poc4Poc strictly and has a thing for black women

The only thing him and Kyle can agree on is that latinos are superior

Very autistic,with no masking game now or ever due to the norms he was raised in never giving him the chance to learn to.It got him bullied at school and things didn't get better into adulthood until we got to my Rhato rewrite and he got to make REAL friends i.e Reconnecting with Eddie and my self-insert Summer Kent(i got into DC through watching Utrh and starting to selfship with him),Robin-ing up Duke and vice versa and meeting Rose,Artemis,Kyle,Thad and a bunch of ocs by @moonage-gaydream @theautisticcentre @refrigeratedboombursts @mayameanderings and @insomniac-jay

Punkero Gótico(Goth Punk)who's a straightedge as trauma coping,seeks out latino/black run thrift stores,goes to basement shows and charity events and protests when he has free time and usually just asks around for them so he can know,wears dominican themed corpse makeup and is an agender transmasc who describes his gender as 'Mostly nonbinary but being a guy makes things funny as hell and Not That Kinda Girl by Mcr describes me pretty well')

His love for classical literatiure ofc includes latino authors and he played JuegosJuegos.com tons as a kid

Calls Talia Mamí,Damian 'Duende',Duke 'El Real'(Real=Spanish for Royal but also means the same thing it does in english so it's basically him saying 'You're so fucking real' like the slang)and Summer 'Strawberry Pop'(Jason has a thing for pink-coded black women specifically m'kay?)

His favorite Marvel character and lucky for him his Marvel Variant too is Miles Morales.He thinks it's Hobie Browm though(PLEASE He's so obsessed with his non-existent coolness and relatedly Duke's actual DC Variant is Duke 'El Real' Thomas)

And his books Variant is Percy Jackson.The only real differences are 1.Percy is transfem instead of transmasc and 2.Jason's arc is about him being a self-made tragedy and highkey bad person who works his ass off to redeem himself and only works when he's not getting coddling and Percy's is about how she's never done anything wrong in her entire life yet gets treated like shit anyway and deserves to be treated kindly for once no matter how strong she is

My fancast for him is Aubrey Joseph.Everything i've watched of him-Acting AND as himself-is literally just irl Jason Todd.There's no better fancast for him out there,we've found Red Hood y'all

If you call him any version of 'Papí' and you're not Talia or one of his kids:'Lights Out Bitch!!!!'

Canon bonus':His birthday is on Dominican Restoration day,at my villa we sell mini packets of neapolitan cream with little spoons at our schools,his Lego movie is called 'Family Matters' which is the name of an iconic black sitcom and Leon from Pokemon's VA voiced him in the Wfa dub!!!

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

They were Roommates! 3/?

Summary: We get some perspective. Jason's had a long day and all he needs is his princess to help him relax.

Pairs: Roommate!Reader x Jason Todd

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: SMUT, FEELINGS, POV SWITCH, chocking, cock warming, praise, pining, dark humor, fluff. reader gets a job, I have no excuses but this kind of hurt to write.

AN: This Chapter is from Jason's POV. I just feel like we needed some insight. Also just wanted to repost this because apparently it didn't upload properly yesterday. Hopefully this time it works.

Part 2

What a long fuckin day, Jason thinks to himself as he trudges up the stairs to your shared apartment. He's been out all night and day chasing down leads for Batman and hasn't felt this bone tired since he crawled out of the pit.

His duffle bag like a sack of bricks on his shoulder and his feet doused in concrete. But his goal is ahead of him. He knows your home right now, you told him this morning when he called to ask about your upcoming Art Show that you had pieces to get ready and you’d be locked inside all day.

The idea of you waiting for him pushes him further, faster. Just a few more steps and he'll be home. Not that he thought of you as home.  No, that'd be too much. You're friends, just friends, who haven't been able to keep your hands to yourself for longer than 2 days for the last few weeks. So maybe you’re just very good friends.

He pushes through the door, only a little grateful that Bruce made him leave his guns at the manor for Alfred to clean. Apparently, he wasn’t doing it properly. Though he’s about 90% certain he’s never going to see his favourite firearms again.

He makes a beeline for your room upon noticing you left the door open. Are you waiting for him? You wouldn’t be, right? His ears perk up at the sound of your soft humming, making his heart pound and his hands sweat. Fuck, he just needs to get his hands on you.

“Hey Jay,” you say in that velvety tone, when you see him approaching down the hall. Pulling your headphones off and smiling your cute little face at him. He can hear Taylor Swift's newest song echoing from them, but he barely even registers it. He’s so focused on you.

Fuck, you’re a wonderful sight. Your tablet resting on your crossed legs, your stylus slotted delicately between those delicate fingers, hair up in messy bun, tiny fly away's framing your beautiful face, knee high socks that nearly give him a heart attack and his fucking red flannel. Fuck, if he had your skills he’d sit down and capture how perfect you are.

His eyes take all of this in as his heart tries his best to tell him something. But he can't stop moving. His body goes limp as he flop’s down onto you, resting his head on your silky thigh. All he wants is to sink his teeth into your flesh, mark you, cover your pretty skin in signs that you're his. 

Instead, his hands dig into the shirt that’s fanned out over your legs. His shirt, if only the woman in it were his too. He thinks, grateful he’s managing to keep these confusing thoughts inside, “Princess,” he mumbles into your leg. 

“Long day at the office?” Your hands start to brush through his hair, combing the knots out that had formed throughout his search. Your nails graze along his scalp, he shivers as goosebumps spread down his neck and onto his arms. He may not remember hell, but this sure feels like heaven.

“Mmm,” he kicks off his boots, the steel caps thumping when they hit the ground. His bones start to feel gooey as he presses his face deeper into your thigh. He doesn’t mean to kiss you, but he just can’t seem to help himself.

“Bruce have you digging holes in the garden again?” your voice like wind chimes on a still day. Fuck, he could listen to you talk forever about whatever you wanted.

“He does love his family bonding exercises,” his hands drift up, wrapping around your hips, hugging you tight and hiding his face, unable to look at you. He hates the lies, hates that he can't tell you. But Dicks right, it's too dangerous for a civilian. He couldn't forgive himself if anything happened to you and if he was the one who put you in danger….

“Want me to get you anything?” 

“Just this for now.” He snuggles up into your tummy.

You lean down, placing soft kisses into his hair. He’s thankful you can’t see his face, sure that it would give away just how right you feel..

“You rest Jay, I got you.” you lay back, your hand still in his hair as you begin humming the song you had been listening to before.

“Hmm.. thanks Princess.”

You only get to the chorus before Jason’s phone starts to ring, “back pocket,” he grumbles, rubbing his cheek into you, “can you get it for me?”

“Ah huh,” your hand reaches into his pocket, “it says mother dearest?” you sound so confused but he can’t help the laugh that escapes him, “Jay I thought-”

“Jesus, can't I rest? answer and tell him to fuck off please.” you let out a tiny sound that sounds like you agree and then the bloody hollering starts.

“Little Wing, I need-”

“Umm hello?” you interrupt.

“- oh you're not Jason. Hey girlie,”

“Jason, why is Dick in your phone as mother dearest?” you whisper, scrunching your brows up at him when he looks up at you.

His eyes start to grow heavy, rubbing his cheek into your tummy. Fuck, Jason does not want to talk to his brother right now. He inhales your perfume mixed with the lingering scent of his cologne. It makes his pants grow tighter and his brain feel foggy, “tell him I'm busy and to annoy someone else,”

“Jason can't come to the phone right now, he's dead.” you joke and he can hear the fucking panic starting to form in Dick’s head.

“He's what?!” He hears Dick shout through the phone. His brother starts to ramble and Jason can imagine the man pacing through his house, his arms flailing around him like he’s going to kill someone. Jason can't help the laugh that escapes him.

“Dick doesn't get the joke Princess. Put it on loudspeaker.” he whispers to you, turning his head so his brother will hear him, “I'm not dead, calm down.”

“Don't you tell me to calm down! She shouldn't make jokes like that, because- wait, am I a loud speaker?”

“Yes,” you both say at the same time.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home ok, and now I'm having a heart attack. Fuck you both very much.” He hangs up and you both burst into laughter.

“Your brother's a bit of a drama queen.” his head jostles on your giggling stomach, “Like did he think I’d be so casual if you were actually dead?”

"You don't know the half of it," Jason says, taking the phone from you and throwing it away.

"We just doing this all night or?" 

"What you have in mind?"

"Haven't had a girls night in ages and you look like you could use some pampering." You suggest as your fingers work their way back through his hair.

XxX

He must've fallen asleep. His first clue is that you're gone and he's wrapped up in your cotton blanket, the second is he can smell the snicker doodles in the kitchen. The rich cinnamon sugar scent, almost as sweet as you.

Ducking into his room he takes off his dirty clothes and throws on a pair of clean sweats before floating towards the kitchen like a cartoon. "Princess?" He calls when he can't see you.

"I'm over here," you call back. He spots you bending over the coffee table, arranging your pamper station for him. Fuck I love you. He thinks, in a friend way. Yeah. She's my friend. But the way his shirt rises up over your ass makes him want to do some very unfriendly things to you. "Can you grab the cookies from the oven?"

"Yep," he says, with a pop of his lips, spinning on his feet towards the kitchen. 

"Thanks ba- I mean thanks Jay," you turn trying to hide your embarrassment, but he can see it. You wanted to call him babe. Maybe this isn't as one sided as he thought?

"What are we doing first?" He tries to say casually, sitting down on the couch and taking in the vast array of items you've got set out.

"Facials," you smile, picking up the little bowl of cream, "want me to put it on you?"

"Yes please," he sits back, almost moaning at how soft your fingers feel on his face, "what's in this it smells yummy,"

"Honey, lavender, oats, all the good stuff," 

"It smells great and it feels so good," he presses his face into your hands. "Princess, i-"

"Finished, you look so cute!" You say excitedly, "ok, now you do me,"

"Do you?" He raises his brow at you.

"Jay," you playfully hit him, "I want a facial too." He can't help the face he makes and you slap him again, "come on, get ya mind out the gutter."

"I'm just teasing," he swipes a handful of the cream, rubbing it into your soft features. His fingers press into the crease into your brow, your cheeks. You grin up at him and his heart feels like it might burst. Holding your chin he presses a soft kiss into your lips, "tastes good too," he beams, when you open your eyes you peer back at him so sweetly his heart thumps even faster. "What now Princess?"

"We just need to wait ten minutes then we can wash it off," you say getting up and grabbing the cookies, from the table "we can eat these while we wait."

"Princess these are delicious," he moans as the spongey cookie melts in his mouth, "tastes almost as good as you."

"Jay." You level your deadpan stare at him.

"Princess." He stares back.

"Can I do your makeup after?" You perk up, sitting on your knees.

"Can we watch Heathers in bed?"

"Deal."

"How many of these am I aloud to eat?" He asks, stuffing another one in his mouth. Fuck if he only had to eat two things for the rest of his life. He knows exactly what he would pick.

"All of them? I can just make more if you want." 

"Just for me?" He's surprised, he's not sure why. In the year you've lived here he's always surprised by just how much the little things you do for him chip away at his walls.

"Who else?" Your words circle his heart, the tips of the letters just grazing the outside.

"Princess, can I wash this off? It's starting to itch,"  he says, the honey sticking to his fingers and the lavender that smells exactly like you wafting up his nose. He's having trouble keeping his thoughts pure and not just bending you over the couch and making you beg for him.

"Yeh, I'll get the movie ready and move the snacks," 

"Fuck, what the fuck am I doing?" He says to himself in the bathroom mirror, his face still smelling like you, "just ask her out to dinner," he washes the rest off, but the scent still lingers. "What would Bruce do? Deny his feelings for ten years and wait for her to make the move. I can't fuckin do that." He wipes his hand down his face in frustration. 

Shit, he feels like he's stuck between a crowbar and an explosion. But if he fucks up this time, you could be the one to get hurt and that's the last thing he wants.

"You're taking a while in there, are you alive?" You knock on the closed door, "you talking to Batman in the mirror again?"

"I do not do that," he says as he brushes past you and into your room where you've got the cookies resting on the edge of your bed.

"You kinda do," you call out.

Fuck me, she's going to kill me. Again. He thinks, holding his face in his hands as he reaches for another cookie and savors the taste.

"Alright, Jay," you say, swishing into the room, his shirt sitting just low enough to cover your panties. Your hands drift up his bare arms, stopping at his shoulders as you step toward him, your legs spreading over his and your ass lands on his thighs. "Ready for your makeover?"

"Is this how I get it?" His arms encircle you, "Can I get one every morning?" He squeezes your ass and you jump, making his cock throb underneath you. His fingers dig into your sides making you squirm and the cutest little sounds escape your mouth. Is this your version of torture? It’s definitely preferable to other methods he’s endured, he thinks, he could get used to this kind of treatment. 

"Jay, stop," you laugh, "you're tickling me, Jay, please," squirming even more on his lap, his cock growing harder and harder by the second, "Jason, babe, stop, let me do your makeup."  

His eyes meet with yours and he stops tickling you. Did you just? No. It must’ve been a slip of the tongue. 

"Make up time," you try to smile, your eyes looking everywhere but at him, what is that about? Is he reading too much into this? "Maybe a smokey eye? What colors would you like?" 

"Red and black, please Princess." You reach back for your eye shadow pallet and he tries to think of something else. Anything else, Dick farting on Tim, Damien getting eaten by his dog. But with that lavender still on his skin and you on his lap, all he can think about is kissing you again.

You press your fingers into his face, your dominant hand holding the brush like it was made there as you lean over him. Brushing the color onto his closed eyes, your cinnamon breath fans over his face warms his heart. Your tits pressing into his hard chest have a similar effect further south.

"Jay, stop squirming," you say as you continue to wiggle on top of him. "I'm going to poke your eye out," Like he can help it. Like he can help just how much to affect him.

"I'm trying, are you nearly done?"

"True art takes time,"

"I don't know how much I got left,"

"Why's that?"

"Princess if you don't hurry up I might break your pretty brush," his hands grip your hips, hoping to keep you still. Instead it gives him more leverage to rub up into you, grinding his very hard and seeping cock into your delicate panties. 

"I'm nearly done, just one more thing." He feels you reach back, his eyes still closed. Then the softness of your kiss overwhelms him and he can't hold it back any longer. 

He flips you underneath him. You let out an adorable squeal of excitement as his cock grinds on the wet patch in your panties. "Fuck" it feels like someone finally cracked a hole in the horny pond. he tries to stop but can't, “I need to be inside you,” 

"Like right now?" You say, grinding up into him and shoving your panties down your legs as fast as you can. "But I haven't finished your makeup" Fuck, you're always so ready for him. Maybe you can finish his make up? He thinks slyly, hmm this could be fun.

“Right now Princess,” his hand fumbles as his blood thrums. He dips his fingers into your heavenly pussy and you’re already clenching down on him, "fuckin hell. You're already so wet. I got an idea," he moves back, laughing when you let out a huff as his fingers leave you. He rests his back on the wall behind your bed, "come here,"

'Ok?" You ask, seemingly confused about what he's doing. But when you see him shake his pants off and throw them on the floor, your mouth falls open and you start staring at him again. Fuck, it makes him feel like a God. 

You fall onto your tummy crawling towards him, like sin personified, like you need him as much as he needs you. He glimpses those pretty tits through the large gap in the front of his shirt, "What are we doing?"

"Since you insist on doing my makeup,” he tuts, “you're going to sit on my cock while you finish it. Don't look at me like that. Come on now,"

"I'm definitely going to poke your eye out," you side eye him as you raise to your knees.

"You won't. I trust you," he says, taking your hips in his hands, sighing when your warm fingers wrap around his cock. 

"Good girl, now sit," he takes deep breaths as your tight little pussy envelops him, your creaminess sliding down the hard ridges of his cock, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. 

"Ok," you pant, squirming around him with your eyes closed, "I've just gotta-" you pick up your pallet, swiping some black over your finger and pressing it into his eyelid. 

“Please don't make that face,” he squints, knowing what you look like when you get focused, “I'm having a hard enough time,”

“This was your idea,” you sass, wiggling your ass and he feels like he might just let you poke his eyes out. 

He thrusts up, moaning when you bite down on your lip to try and keep your concentration. His hand moves, slipping over your hip to fall right at your clit. His thumb lazily swiping up and down making you spasm and pull your hand away.

“Jay,” you shudder, falling forward and into his chest, your hands holding his cheeks as you reach up to kiss him. Pride swells in his chest, knowing that he can have you like this whenever he wants. That you’re so open and trusting of him, ready to fall apart in his arms at any given moment.

“Makeup done?” He mumbles between kisses. His cock with a mind of its own as it starts to slowly thrust into you.

“It's,” you lean back, taking in your handy work, your delicate fingers brushing over his cheeks. You’re cheeks are flushed and your beautiful eyes take him in, “kinda smudey now, but it looks good.”

“Good,” he lifts his knees bringing you even closer to him, “now about this shirt,” his hands slip in between the buttons, ripping it in half. 

“Jay,” you gasp, and the shock on your face was worth it. Until you pout at him, “that was my favourite shirt,”

“I got heaps of flannels, you can have all of them Princess,” he peels the shirt from your arms, bowing his head so he can take your tit in his mouth, his strong tongue flicking over your nipple. Moving his other hand so his thumb can do the same to your clit, “still upset about the shirt?” He pant’s when you start to bounce on his cock.

“No, Jay I-” he knows what you're going to say, he can feel how tight you're getting around him. You just need a little push, his mouth sucks into your neck, tasting the last remnants of your face mask mixing with your sweat. You keep making those noises as bites into you, the fucking sweetest sounds on the earth, he wants to have his head clogged full of them.

“Cum,” his voice muffled as his teeth move to your nipple. You arch back, your hands grip tight to his legs, nails digging into his thick thighs,  Yes, mark me, he thinks, I'm yours Princess make me look like it, but his mouth says, “cum, cum on me, then you're going to do it again and again, cum Princess,”

His cock feels like it's in a vice as you shake and shiver over him, his name like a chant on your lips and your eyes tight with his. Your face is so beautiful as you fall apart on top of him, those tiny breathy moans echoing in his ears.

His hands slide around your waist, pulling you even closer, his lips connect with yours, “you did so well, wrap your legs around me," Your eyes lidded as you gaze back at him, "I got the next one,” he lifts you, sliding his legs underneath him to get more leverage. 

“Ready?”

“Yes Jay,” your voice is so lust filled, he wants to record it for when he's had a bad day. He thrusts up, your fingers winding through his hair, turning his head towards you. 

He'll never get used to how stunning you are, your eyes groggy and your lips swollen from his kiss, "fuck your beautiful," he kisses you deeply one hand on the back of your neck, the other gripping into your ass. "Keep those pretty eyes open for me," 

He's losing himself, losing any remaining semblance of sanity inside of you as he moves faster, harder "fuck I want to cum. Your little pussy feels so good Princess"

Your hands are drifting, seeming to want to touch every part of him before settling on his biceps. Your teeth bite down into his shoulder as he finds your g spot and it feels like fireworks shooting down his neck. "Fuck me back Princess," he slaps your ass making your pussy pulse around him.

“Again,” your voice getting breathier by the second, starting to grind down into him as he fucks you. He can feel your clit grazing his stomach, your tits brushing against the sensitive y shaped scar at the center of his torso. He's alive, alive for this. So he could make you cum on him everyday for forever . He slaps your ass over and over, feeling your pussy clutch and clench around him.

“Want to fill you, Princess,” His cock throbs inside you, your moans surrounding him like a symphony, “want to see that pretty pussy drip with my cum,”

“Jason,”

“Yes, cum. Cum, cum,” he moans in your ear, trying to hold back his own release, he wants to share it, to share everything. With you.

“JASON!” you scream, his name on your lips the richest sound in the world and as your pussy begins to convulse around him, he lets go. His cum filling you up, surrounding his cock and pumping into your pussy. He keeps going, fucking into you, letting you have as much of him as you need. He wants you spent, blissed out on his cock so that you never go searching for the feeling elsewhere.

His lips caress your neck as your shaking begins to slow, “did so well Princess, so perfect for me,” he praises you, lifting you up and laying you both on the bed.

Your head rest's on his chest as your little fingers trace the line of his scar. It feels strange, nice strange. Your fingers drift down the tail end of the why and he thinks maybe you're putting the butterflies inside him.

“You're fucking perfect,” your voice so fucking soft.

He smooths out the strands of your hair, not believing that you could ever truly think that of him. Not if you knew what he had done and all the lies he told you.

“How did my makeup hold up?” He asks, noticing the black smudges all over by your pretty face when you look up at him and wanting to change the subject, “I got it all over you,” he tries to wipe it clean.

“I think it looks better this way,” your soft hands brush his hair up, so gently. You're always so gentle with him. It makes his knees weak, “Hmm. You just need a jacket and a bit more black and you'll look just like how I imagine the Red Hood looks under that shiny helmet.”

“Oh really?” He knows you don't know, he's gone to very extreme lengths to ensure it. And asking you to dinner? What was he thinking, that's only going to make things more complicated. But he's not going to deny how it makes the pride swell in his chest, “Is that a look you like Princess?”

“Don't be jealous Jay. He's just mysterious and dark,” you shrug.

“I'm not jealous, beautiful, only a little intrigued.”

“Dressing up as him wouldn't hurt,” his smart girl, too smart. How is he going to keep this up? The closer, the deeper he falls the more likely you are to be in danger. He needs to tread very carefully. The last thing he wants is for you to get hurt.

Part 4

Taglist: (let me know if you want in bestie)

@princessbl0ss0m @letmebebatmanpls

[zahri-melitor]

Okay a loose Recent Reads roundup:

Birds of Prey: Sirens of Justice: so I was lured (tricked) into reading this as Gail Simone wrote one of the stories, even though it, sigh, contains far too much Harley Quinn due to movie synergy. The Dinah and Helena banter is decent, but otherwise this felt...aggressively fine. The Helena story is very pat in terms of how people tend to write Huntress shorts, though I guess it wasn't 'Helena worries about a student' this time.

The Question: The Deaths of Vic Sage: very much in conversation with O'Neil's run, of course, and also clearly reacting to contemporaneous US racial discussions. Shifting Myra to be the Mayor's sister not wife definitely alters her position in the narrative, particularly in terms of her obligations and response to situations. It is incredibly bleak in places, but that simply reflects the run it is based on and is a tribute to.

Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen: This is definitely for the Silver Age fan. Matt Fraction manages to string together solving a complex assassination plot over 12 issues by telling the story in short, 2-4 page sections that wildly jump around the timeline and are framed by 'the many ridiculous things that have happened to Jimmy Olsen'. I have absolutely no handle on the canonicity of some of this, particularly the extended Olsen family, and not knowing probably makes this read more easily. Looking at it as a whole, I'm impressed how well Fraction stitched what was effectively episodic 2 page fills into a complete narrative. The energy of the story is relentless. Best read in small doses.

Batman: Pennyworth R.I.P: god this comic could have been so much better than it was. It’s fine and accomplishes exactly what it was intended to do - tell a story of how Alfred influenced and looked out for each of Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian and Barbara - and sets everyone up to be mildly pissed at Bruce. But just for one example, it would have been HUGELY more powerful if they’d been able to use Dick, with his memories just restored, facing the fact he wasn’t there when Alfred needed him and his last interactions were so impersonal and spent pushing Alfred away.

Catwoman 80th Anniversary 100-Page Super Spectacular: again, underwhelming. Tom King played shipper and wrote his version of how the Helena Wayne story should work; the Dixon story felt 90s appropriate but the art was dire; Brubaker’s felt like a missing scene to his run; Dini’s honestly wasn’t up to the standard I’d hope for from Dini. The art pieces were great though; a lot of good commissions.

Robin 80th Anniversary 100-Page Super Spectacular: I cannot work out who chose the covers used in the issue, which swing between 'iconic' and 'reminding everyone ASBAR exists was unnecessary, DC'.

Generally: they did manage to round up fairly iconic lineups for most of the stories, with some chopping and changing for a few.

Wolfman got another run at trying to frame the 'Dick quits v Bruce fires him' debate; Dixon and Grayson both submitted literal fills (Dixon's is a scene immediately after Nightwing #19 1996 and before #20; Grayson's is at least just an extra story that fits into #1-12 of her Titans 1999 run on a day all the second stringers didn't come to work). I don't actually have a problem with any of these - they're nice additional material, but mostly more of the same. Seeley & King's suffers from the usual Seeley problem for me where it would be vastly improved by having a different focus; but it does feel straight out of his Grayson run, with everything that implies (down to the St Hadrian's student I wish was not present). All of the Dick stories are basically "we got the team back together" creative line ups.

Jason, in contrast, makes it really obvious that nobody can define a definitive Jason run, and so gets the tiniest story with Winick and Dustin Nguyen. I checked, and Nguyen did draw part of UTRH, but I wouldn't have associated him as a character-defining artist for Jason. The story's cute. Winick sidestepped having to commit to anything about his opinions on post-Flashpoint Jason direction.

Tim got Adam Beechen (which honestly makes me happy, I don't care about anyone else's opinion) and luxuriates in Tim having to play civilian; Tynion gets a Rebirth story that I can't quite work out his timing on (it's supposed to be a prequel, but Dick is already back in costume as Nightwing and talking to Tim, suggesting that several issues of the Rebirth Nightwing take place significantly before 'Tec #934) that is a classic 'Tim tells everyone how he feels about his brothers' story. I realise everyone boring has complained about Tim calling Damian a 'horrible gremlin' but the thing is you see I can only read nicknames like that as full of affection. The back and forth is an important part of their relationship, as shown by Damian snapping 'you're only listening to the insults'.

Steph gets her 71 days as Robin slightly padded out and Amy Wolfram manages to pick up Willingham's tone pretty well; I suspect she liaised with Damion Scott quite a bit on this piece.

Damian has a Super Sons piece from Tomasi, because it's the most lighthearted option available and it sells very well (it's sickly sweet). Which was probably the right call as the other piece is clearly written by Robbie Thompson to accompany his Teen Titans run and for the downward spiral going on there. Which is honestly a bit of a pity for Damian, given everyone else got feature pieces from favourite runs, and he got the 'this slots into your current story' piece.

[fumblingmusings]

Not the same anin but everything you say makes sense. You are a gem. I am curious now about Alfred and Arthur because I do see them quite similar, just different levels of introversion and the fact that Arthur is denial itself (I love how tsundere he is), what are your thoughts on that? Where do you think they converge and diverge? I won't gush about it but they are well suited.

You are so sweet, oh thank youuuu.

I've written a bit about them here and here about how I picture their dynamics, plus bloggers like Coralcatsea wrote a fantastic post outlining the way the two are actually pretty similar so on the one hand, so I will just direct people there because I feel like for the most part it is kind of ignored by most folk that Alfred and Arthur like... do genuinely enjoy each others company and they both go out of their way to spend time with each other. Alfred more so than Arthur, at least in the modern day strips. Do you ever feel like shaking people and saying: They are friends. I promise.

I think at their core, they both want to be important. Arthur wants it for security purposes, Alfred is a bit more straightforward: he just wants status. You can do a lot of good (and bad) if your top dog. I think of Arthur as being more defensive - he needs to be on top to protect himself - Alfred (in his absolutely most idealistic interpretation) is more offensive - he needs to be on top to direct and lead (and protect??? mmmmmmmmmm....) others.

But haha! I think I disagree with you a little actually!! I do think Alfred is extroverted. He's fine in his own company largely through being forced to from decades of 'salutary neglect' but he's always shown to be very welcoming to people living in his home (Romano, Lithuania, Japan and Belarus for instance), and goes out of his way to spend time with them. I think he's happiest with other people. Maybe not huge groups though, I can see an argument for that.

I also imagine Arthur is more aware of his feelings towards Alfred. Or at least, is far more willing to discuss it, if Alfred ever allowed himself to be vulnerable. Quite a few times they have gotten close to be emotionally open with each other and Arthur has gotten upset, leading to Alfred emotionally backtracking and pulling essentially a 'lol nah I'm just taking the piss' attitude. I suppose it can be partially Alfred realising Arthur is just not emotionally stable enough or it can be him not wanting to be vulnerable faced with a guy who is being vulnerable. Because Alfred really doesn't like to be vulnerable. He's the hero after all, right? No weakness. Even Arthur.

I think Arthur just kind of accepts there are going to be moments in his life where he needs to rely on others for help. He'll bitch, apologise or complain the entire time, but he'll accept it. I don't think Alfred would however. So I imagine that can be a major sticking point at times. Arthur is like 90% held together by his pride, and yet somehow it's not as unwieldy as Alfred's.

[timdrakeinorder]

The New Titans #60: A Lonely Place of Dying Part Two (My thoughts)

Learning from last time and using a read more because dear lord that one got out of hand

(I don't really have anything to say about this panel, I just think she's pretty <3 Kori I KNOW I can do you better than Nightwing, hit me up)

I think Vic's word choice is interesting here, specifically saying he's calling 'Wayne Manor', not 'batman' or 'bruce'. I mean, it IS Alfred who picks up so maybe he just wasn't positive who'd answer the phone, but that layer of distance is interesting. He's on the lookout for one of his best friends and he finally calls 'the manor' not Dick's mentor. I haven't read enough new titans to have a lot of context for their relationship but I wonder if Vic sees Bruce as Dick's dad or his boss.

I love how they position Alfred here directly under Martha's stare. Alfred is on the verge of losing Bruce as well unless something drastically changes soon, she's always haunting the narrative, isn't she?

(I don't have much to say about this panel either, just look at her <3 The 80s comics may be messy about how they write women but GOD can they draw them! Or maybe I'm just gay and easy to impress who knows)

Tim you creepy little fucker <3. This bit DOES confuse me though, I will admit. We see Tim in his room with a copy of the photo with him and the Graysons in part one, so I really don't get WHY he'd break into Dick's apartment and tear up his stuff... just to show Dick a photograph that Tim already owns. Maybe it was just the only way they could think of for the rest of the team to learn that Dick's stalker knows both identities?

He's so sweet, how can you not love him?

The crowbar continues to haunt the narrative.

Still no full face reveal but we're getting close!

Tim's very one sided intimacy with Dick rears its head yet again. He can't immediately recognize Dick in the crowd and his first thought is that he MUST be in disguise. Keeping in mind that he still HAS NOT SEEN Dick at Haly's, he's still running on a hunch. A good hunch and he IS right in the end, but this is about a man that, to our knowledge, he only met ONCE as a three year old.

Houston, we have eyes!

Aaaaaaaaaand FULL FACE!

He looks so little here. He watched a man die AGAIN from the audience at Haly's circus and I love all the connections between this meeting and Tim's first time meeting Dick.

The! Audacity! Of! This! Boy!

I like that Tim isn't highly skilled by any means but we do learn early on that he's very fit, even before being trained, just not much more than an average physically active teenage boy. He managed to flip NIGHTWING 90% of the way to the ground, that is seriously impressive.

HE'S SO LITTLE!!!! Tim is very sure of himself and very entitled in such a 13 year old boy way. He has a very specific simple idea of how the world should be and he will leap on the first answer he sees. He sees an out of control batman, he's positive that having a robin will fix him, he hunts down Dick Grayson and expects him to jump back in the cape and boots. He sees a suspicious death that will spell out the end of a circus that's important to him, he has the bare bones of a lead based on extremely little evidence, he accuses a clown of murder. It hasn't sunken in for him yet just how complicated these situations are. Just how complicated PEOPLE are.

In his mind it's so simple and he can't understand why it isn't simple for Dick as well. Tim is accusing a dear friend of his of murder and it's like Tim doesn't realize the full scope of how serious this all is.

[msfcatlover]

@alycat76​ : Can you give me the low urban fantasy AU? 

YES! YES I ABSOLUTELY CAN!!! Ah, you have no idea how much I love this one!!!

Okay, so! This AU was actually born directly from my frustration with a bunch of Urban Fantasy AUs (and original stories, if we’re being real here.) Namely, that those stories will so often be like, “These magical beings are very, very rare,” and then the entire cast will be mystical beings of one sort or another. And I was like, “You can totally tell an engaging story in a world like this with an almost entirely human cast. You don’t even have to cut out the magic element or fun world building!” (And yes, that first part does accurately describe my Monster!Kids AU. Shhhhh, let me have my hypocrisy.)

I wanted to do that, and my brain is 90% Batfam brainrot right now, so here’s what I came up with.

(CW for minor mentions of sickness, canon character death, and child abuse. Bruce is not the abuser, for the record. But mentions are there. Also, Jason’s body is not restored to its pre-death state, and I do describe some of the things that would’ve been done to prep him for his funeral.)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Very first point: Bruce’s tie to Gotham is more than just his love & dedication to his city. The Wayne family are supposedly one of the oldest families in the city, and of those old families they’re possibly (I’m still a little unclear here) the only one not tied to the Court of Owls? They’re the ones most dedicated to improving Gotham and ending its corruption, anyway. So let’s do something with that, shall we?

The Wayne bloodline has a bond with the city. Some might call it a blessing, some might call it a curse. The eldest member of the family is a Fisher King; the health of the Lord is tied directly to that of the city. When the Lord is sick, the city suffers; when the city suffers, the Lord feels its pain. And for generations, the head of the family has near-always been ill. Bruce has vivid memories of his father retching over the toilet, or calling in sick because the trembling was too much for Thomas to risk operating on patients (they are, depressingly, some of the most vivid memories Bruce has of his father.) As a member of the family, Bruce could see the marks just under his father’s skin, from ink-black to bruise-yellow and every sickly color in between, that nobody else seemed to see (Zatanna did, and she was the only outsider to assure Bruce he wasn’t crazy over it, but there’s only so much she could do for him.) It was terrifying for a young boy to see his father so ill, but Thomas promised Bruce that even though it was a “family condition,” Thomas & Martha were working on it; Thomas promised his son that by the time Bruce had to worry about it, they’d have made enough progress that Bruce would hardly even notice it.

Of course, that’s not what happened. Thomas was actually feeling well that night, better than he had in months, and wanted to go out to celebrate. Martha chose the restaurant and Bruce chose the movie. And maybe, if Thomas had kept feeling well, if he hadn’t had to stop to catch his breath, if the family hadn’t stepped into that specific alley to avoid blocking the sidewalk... maybe things would’ve been different.

When Thomas Wayne breathed his last, his son collapsed under the weight of Gotham’s rot & suffering. Joe Chill assumed the bullet must’ve passed through one of the parents to hit the child, and fled in a panic.

The hospital could find nothing wrong with Bruce, but he saw the understanding in Alfred’s eyes when he arrived and the first thing Bruce said to Alfred was, “I think I’m dying.”

(In most legends, Fisher Kings cannot leave their homelands. The Waynes are slightly luckier, but the longer they are away, the more they... fade. Energy seeps out of them slowly, color leaves their skin, no amount of sleep is ever enough, and they eventually need to return to Gotham to recharge. Bruce’s record is 3yrs, and the doctors shipped him home basically in a coma.)

(Bruce swore he would never have children, never pass down his bloodline’s curse to an innocent child who should not have to carry it. He got a vasectomy as soon as he legally could. Needless to say, he was furious Talia would go so far as to create a clone-son for the two of them, violating both Bruce’s right to choose and cursing Damian to carry on that line of suffering.)

Bruce learned his city & body well enough that he can use it as a map. Not a map that would make sense to anyone else (street corners that are directly adjacent to eachother might be on completely different parts of him, like one on his ribs and the other behind his knee.) During the day, he uses his resources to try to treat Gotham’s suffering preventatively, going after unjust rules & systems, weaving a new security net for Gotham’s underclass, etc. At night, his methods are more surgical, cutting out the tumors & rot, while also taking the time to help as many individual citizens as he possibly can.

As the legend of the Batman grows, reality starts to bend ever so slightly under the weight of it. He jumps further & more accurately than a man of his bulk should be able to, can always find the perfect corner to hide in, always has something to grab when he falls off a building.

Despite all the suffering Gotham causes Bruce Wayne, he still loves his city. And the city loves him back.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Second point: Dick Grayson is human, and he doesn’t exactly have any magic of his own. It’s... I’m calling it “being a conduit.” Basically, Dick resonates with any magic in his vicinity. He’s very sensitive to the presence of magic, to the point of it being basically a sixth sense, and on an instinctive level he attunes himself to any natural or environmental magic around him. To a very limited degree, he can even take on a few traits of what that magic is, but not... he can’t tune into a fire spell and burn you with a touch, but when he’s resonating with Gotham, he is slightly more resistant to poisoning.

It’s much, much rarer than being a magic user (though many magic users do eventually become conduits through sheer exposure,) but in the same way having perfect pitch is different from being able to sing.

...I’m making it sound so much more powerful than it actually is here. The main benefit Dick gets out of it is that when he attunes himself to any given city, the city will treat him as a native and most citizens just passing him in the street will assume he is too (this does not affect his ability to, say, speak the language or change his accent, it’s just his “vibes,” if that makes sense.)

As far as story goes, this means Dick can see Bruce’s curse-marks despite not being a member of his bloodline; if they’re in contact with eachother, Dick can even very faintly feel what the city is inflicting on Bruce at any given time. (This scares the absolute bejeezus out of Bruce when he realizes, as he immediately assumes he misinterpreted the curse, and “bloodline” just means “family,” or even “household,” and he’s cursed Dick as well just by offering him a home!) It also means that as soon as Robin becomes part of Batman’s legend, Dick can benefit from the city’s protections just like Bruce does.

It is, in fact, Dick who causes Bruce to realize there’s something more than just good luck happening, when Robin is thrown off a roof but fortunately finds a pole of some sort hidden by the building’s shadow to kick off from and make it to the next one over (this also triggers a rumor that Robin can fly, something Dick is more than happy to lean into with some tailoring on his cape, and yes, he does move even better & faster as a result.) The thing is, Bruce is certain there was no pole there, because he would’ve incorporated it into potential escape plans. And when he finally has the time to go back & check, after the fight is over, after Robin is safe... he’s right. The alley is empty. There’s no pole, no pipe, no nothing. But Dick definitely kicked off of something in mid-air, Dick’s not a metahuman or a magic user, he can’t double-jump or anything. Dick himself insists his foot just caught the top of a thin, flat cylinder, no more than two inches wide, just barely enough to jump from; Dick’s even pretty sure he saw the pole when he glanced behind him, sticking up out of the shadows. Nothing weird at all, except for how it doesn’t exist.

(When Jason dies, Gotham’s grief is strong enough to feel it all the way out in space. Dick doesn’t understand the heavy feeling in his heart, nor the sudden urgency to get home. He tells the other Titans to just drop him off in Gotham, but the closer they get, the worse Dick feels. When they actually break the city limits, Dick just melts into tears as Gotham’s pain howls through every inch of his body. Donna calls ahead, more than a little panicked, and nearly gives Alfred a heart attack with how worried & hesitant Donna is to just straight up say what’s wrong with Dick. She offers Dick the communicator, saying it’s Alfred on the line, and Dick snatches it out of her hand to ask the only coherent word any of them will hear from him for the rest of the day: “Who?”

When Alfred answers, Dick just... breaks. Right there in front of them. He’s trying to say something, something about that being wrong, something about having plans, but he can’t deny what he’s feeling, and he can’t seem to get the words out.

The Titans land in the Batcave, and refuse to leave. Fuck Batman’s rules, they’re not abandoning Dick... and Dick isn’t the only one who didn’t get to say goodbye.)

(Bruce & Dick still fight about it terribly once they’re finally alone. Bruce never once raises his hand to his son, but Dick tries to reach out to him, to touch Bruce’s hand and resonate, to literally share his pain, and Bruce jerks away saying, “Don’t, it’s not---”

Dick stares in shock & horror as both of them silently complete that sentence: It’s not real. If you asked Dick right in that moment, he’d say striking him would have hurt less.)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Jason was human, fully human, with nothing special about him at all. Well, except for how Gotham loved him even more than Batman. The resonance Dick needs to wrap himself up in for Gotham to accept him, Jason has it echoing in his bones. He’s one of Gotham’s truest sons, he’s part of that city, and the city is part of him.

It’s not Superboy Prime’s reality breaking punch that brought Jason back from the dead. I... Look, I wrote a little nursery rhyme to explain it, and I’ve no idea if it’s any good (but it can’t be any worse than the Court of Owls’ rhyme, which has just a few too many syllables in certain lines for me to find whatever rhythm it’s supposed to have.)

Take me home to Gotham If I die far away Put me in her soil In a shallow grave

I don’t belong in Paris Or under London Town Don’t bury me in Tokyo Put me in Gotham ground

If you lose me out at sea In storm or dark of night I’ll swim back home to Gotham I’ll just follow the lights

Don’t send me off to Moscow Or drag me down to Rome I’m Gotham born and bred, my friend I only rest at home

Oh, take me home to Gotham If I die far away Put me in her soil In a shallow grave

I don’t need no tears or funerals Don’t miss me every day For I’ve come home to Gotham And right at home I’ll stay

(As far as most people are concerned, that’s where the rhyme ends. This next part is less well known, in-universe.)

I don’t want no fancy coffin Just put me in the ground Dig a hole on old Park Row And don’t let me be found

My soul belongs in Gotham She knows me blood and bone There is nowhere else that I may rest I’ll only toss and moan

But I’ll rest well in Gotham For two years and a day And if I’m feeling up to it I might even awake

So take me home to Gotham If I die far away You know I’ll only rest in peace In my shallow grave

...Yeah. This actually leads to a few traditions very specific to Gotham, like lighting a candle on someone’s grave on the anniversary of their death to help “lead them home,” or sitting vigil by their grave for the first 2-3 anniversaries. Lots of people don’t even know it has anything to do with this rhyme, it’s just part of Gotham’s culture.

Bruce & Dick of course know the whole rhyme and fight not to get their hopes up on the 2nd anniversary (have you seen that one post where Dick goes to smoke a cigarette for Jason on his grave, chokes on the smoke, and then Bruce shows up and they just silently share it? Yeah. Those vibes. Big those vibes.)

They made one crucial miscalculation, though: they calculated when Jason’s return would theoretically be from the time he died, not from when he was buried. Jason claws his way out of the ground just a day or two after they leave.

Now Jason’s a full-on undead revenant. In exactly the same condition they put him in the ground. He has embalming fluid in his veins, and wires holding his broken bones together. His mouth was sewn shut. But he’s not braindead, he’s fully aware, so enjoy that nightmare fuel for your near future! Additionally, people can’t seem to recognize him as being out of place; he’s walking around in his funeral suit, covered in dirt, and hardly anyone gives him a second glance. He doesn’t register to people, just a face in the crowd, just another part of Gotham, and it’s... Look, Jason’s not complaining that he’s not being arrested or having people run screaming at the sight of him. He can’t even say they’re ignoring him because people will still look up, say their greetings, whatever when he walks through a door, or grunt when they walk into him. But something about the way people brush past him, the certainty nobody will remember him after their interaction is finished, hurts.

(The only way for Jason to be remembered, to leave an impression on the people around him, is to become part of a legend once again.)

Revenants come back for a reason, and Jason’s is to kill his murderer. But he’s part of Gotham proper now, and unlike Bruce, Jason can’t leave. He tries to, he drives all the way to Arkham in a hot-wired car, but he’s still a good half mile away before the pain becomes too much and Jason’s forced to turn the car around or risk crashing when he inevitably passes out. This Jason never trains with the League of Assassins, but he doesn’t need to; no Lazarus Pit needed to fix his mind, and his undead body can take a lot more punishment than any living human could.

(I have this mental image of Jason going back to Wayne Manor, right on the edge of discomfort-not-pain outside of the city proper, and needing to spill so many identifying secrets to Alfred to get Alfred to even let him through the door. Bruce is out of the country, so Alfred calls Dick to please come help him verify their visitor’s identity. Dick has no idea who this stranger in their living room is, until he closes his eyes and focuses on the magic. Dives in deep, letting the resonance of Gotham’s soul wrap around him, and is surprised to find it so much clearer & louder than it should be this far from the city’s heart. Louder than it’s ever been since Jason---

Dick opens his eyes, and his breath catches in his throat as he finally recognizes the face staring at him with so much raw hope.)

Anyway, Bruce refuses to kill the Joker even harder when he finds out Jason is back, because he’s terrified that the moment Jason’s unfinished business is done, Jason will go back to being properly dead.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Okay, last stop: Tim! The only member of the family to be fully supernatural, non-human from the start.

Tim is a changeling. Specifically, he’s a fae who was born without the spellcasting abilities most fae have, so he was traded for a human child. Tim has no memory of the fae courts or his home mound, but he’s a smart cookie and it wasn’t hard to do the math.

Tim can’t lie. He has to keep his promises and he can’t help but keep track of debts (the kindest people in his life will give him quick, easy ways to repay them; a cool rock Tim found, or an interesting bit of information. Tim doesn’t like to hold debts over others most of the time, and will offer similar outs or just tell himself the next nice thing they do for him makes them even.)

Tim can’t cross salt lines or thresholds with horseshoes above them.

Tim can’t touch iron or silver without burning his skin.

Eating non-iodized salt makes Tim sick.

If Tim speaks someone’s full name as part of a command, they will do what he tells them to (other people don’t usually realize this, because they aren’t forced violently; their own minds usually try to find ways to justify what they’re doing.)

If someone has a piece of Tim’s body (like hair, blood, or nail-clippings) Tim’s brain goes into panic mode as quickly as if they held a knife to his throat.

Those are the obvious giveaways that point straight to fae. Tim’s inhumanity can also be found in minute details of his physicality.

Tim’s eyes glow in the dark.

The tips of Tim’s ears are pointed.

Tim has never lost a tooth (but his parents had his eye-teeth removed when he was eight.)

Tim’s nails grow in tough & black as pitch. (He’s gotten in trouble many times at school for painting them, despite the doctor’s note explaining it.)

Hidden under Tim’s hair, his scalp grows thick, curved thorns like a rosebush. (His mother sits him down in the bathroom the day before company comes over, and meticulously removes them with a pair of nail clippers. It hurts. They bleed. Tim’s learned not to squirm or show how much he hate it. It hurts worse if anyone messes with Tim’s hair afterwards, but he’s learned not to show that either.)

And, of course, there’s the biggest giveaway of all:

In all Tim’s pictures before the single trip his parents ever took him on (a whirlwind tour of Europe just before his 2nd birthday,) Tim’s eyes were hazel-brown.

They’re blue now.

(Tim tells himself his parents leave him behind and push him away because they can sense something is off about him, but that they don’t know what. He tells himself they didn’t notice when the fae stole their son away, that the real Timothy Drake would’ve grown up doted on & treasured, traveling the world with them, seeing the sights. Tim tries not to think about how Drake Industries was spiraling before they took that trip, or how it stabilized before they even made it home.)

Tim still becomes Robin, barely resisting Name-commanding his way into the role (it wouldn’t be right, it wouldn’t be honest, he needs Bruce to trust Tim if Bruce is ever going to get better.)

Gotham itself sees Tim as an interloper, but when Tim is Robin it can’t do anything about that. When Jason comes back, Tim sets off all his red-flag alarms, and all he can see is an alien parasite trying to worm its way into his family. It won’t be until Jason saves Tim from supernatural poachers who try to torture Tim’s Name out of him (fruitless in the first place, Tim doesn’t know his own Name,) that they’ll be able to move past that. Gotham can project its suspicions & paranoia through Jason, but how Jason chooses to see Tim will also affect Gotham.

(Someday, Damian will find Tim’s eye-teeth and return them to him as a birthday gift. It will be the kindest single act anyone has ever done for him, as Tim feels safe & whole for the first time since they were taken. Nevermind that they’re in a jewelry box and not Tim’s body, he has his teeth back, and nobody can take them ever again.

Tim will struggle to tell Damian that Tim can’t even begin to express how much this means to him. In the end, Tim just tells Damian, “Thank you. I owe you.”

Dangerous words, with no limit on the debt.

Damian will blink, realize what Tim’s answer really means, and scoff. “Don’t be stupid. It’s a gift. You don’t owe me anything, that’s how gifts work.”)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Basically everyone else has the same stories they do in canon, but with a little less dying. I’ve given dying so much more weight in this AU, so like, Steph doesn’t die, Damian doesn’t die, etc.

Damian does inherit Bruce’s curse/burden when Bruce is lost in time, though. Dick helps him learn to manage it, on top of everything else.

[thegayhimbo]

Stranger Things Hawkins Horrors Review

If you haven’t yet, be sure to check out my other Stranger Things Reviews. Like, Reblog, and let me know what your thoughts are regarding the show or the upcoming season! :)

Stranger Things Comics/Graphic Novels:

Stranger Things Six

Stranger Things Halloween Special

Stranger Things The Other Side

Stranger Things Zombie Boys

Stranger Things The Bully

Stranger Things Winter Special

Stranger Things Tomb of Ybwen

Stranger Things Into The Fire

Stranger Things Science Camp

Stranger Things “The Game Master” and “Erica’s Quest”

Stranger Things and Dungeons and Dragons

Stranger Things Kamchatka

Stranger Things Erica The Great

Stranger Things “Creature Feature” and “Summer Special”

Stranger Things Tie-In Books:

Stranger Things Suspicious Minds

Stranger Things Runaway Max (Part 1 of 3)

Stranger Things Runaway Max (Part 2 of 3)

Stranger Things Runaway Max (Part 3 of 3)

Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Part 1 of 3)

Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Part 2 of 3)

Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Part 3 of 3)

Stranger Things Rebel Robin Book and Podcast (Part 1 of 2)

Stranger Things Rebel Robin Book and Podcast (Part 2 of 2)

Synopsis: Set between seasons 3 and 4, Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Max, Erica, Nancy, Robin, and Steve are all trapped inside in the Video Rental Store after the power goes out on a dark and stormy night. With nothing better to do to pass the time, they begin telling each other scary stories and urban legends surrounding Hawkins......

Observations:

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!!! 🎃☠️👻🍫

This'll be a shorter review than usual since this was a fast read, but man this book was a lot of fun! The premise itself (i.e. certain main characters from the show trapped in the same location interacting with one another) is worthy of an entire episode from the show, and it's disappointing that Netflix and the Duffer Brothers never thought to film a stand-alone Halloween or Christmas or Holiday Episode (similar to what BBC Sherlock did). Even if it didn't tie into the mythology of the show, just seeing certain characters converse with one another when they barely do on the show would have been something I (and plenty of other fans) would have sat through.

The premise of this book is similar to the short Halloween Special comic I reviewed several months ago (you can find the link to it above), except that was set before season 1 and only featured one scary story told by Will to his friends. By contrast, this book takes place in-between seasons 3 and 4 after Steve and Robin get the job at the Video Rental Store, the Byers Family and El have moved to Lenora (meaning they aren't in this book), and each of the characters here get to tell their creepy tales.

The structure for Hawkins Horrors is similar to horror anthology series like The Twilight Zone, Creepshow, and Tales from the Crypt. It also reminded me a little of the Goosebumps series R.L. Stine wrote in the 90s. The big difference is while Goosebumps was tailored towards kids and had elements of comedy to balance out the horror, the stories told by the characters in Hawkins Horrors get pretty dark and gruesome, and some of them even end on chilling notes. This is not a feel-good book.

Each of the stories are urban legends surrounding Hawkins that the characters either insist are true (even though it's implied they aren't), or at the very least have some details tweaked. What's neat is, if you pay close attention, some of the urban legends told are similar to other famous horror stories, and arguably paying homage to them. Robin and Steve's story about the monster under Lover's Lake is the premise of Stephen King's "The Raft." Erica's story is similar to the plot of Alfred Hitchcock's Rear Window (right down to the protagonist in a wheelchair seeing something he shouldn't have) except the climax takes a horrifying turn and the ending is ambiguous about the protagonist's survival. Mike's story comes off as a combination of Child's Play and The Twilight Zone episode "Living Doll." Matthew J. Gilbert wrote this book, and it's pretty clear he's a major horror fan. I wouldn't be surprised if he took inspiration for some of these anthology stories from other famous ones, and brought the Stranger Things charm to them.

On top of that, the book acts as clever foreshadowing for certain events in relation to certain characters in season 4. Nancy's horror story takes place at Pennhurst Asylum, where she will later go with Robin to learn about Victor Creel and what happened to his family. Steve's story about the monster under Lover's Lake hints at how he'll eventually gets dragged through the lake into the Upside Down:

Dustin's story is centered around D&D, and even references the Hellfire Club and Eddie (though Eddie is just referred to as "The Dungeon Master" at this point). Even Erica's story, about the only sane person who tries to warn others about how dangerous someone else is, has parallels to her being the only one at the town hall meeting in season 4 who stands up to Jason and calls bullshit on his attempts to paint the Hellfire Club as a Satanic cult.........only to get dismissed when most of the adults in the room agree with Jason and turn into a lynch mob as a result.

Hawkins Horrors was released on May 3, 2022, a few weeks before the first volume of Season 4 was dropped. I would not be surprised if Netflix and the Duffer Brothers told Matthew J. Gilbert plot elements from season 4, and gave him permission to subtly reference (but not completely spoil) said plot points. Even though I saw the show before I read this book, I still enjoyed the foreshadowing. Well played! :)

The stories were entertaining, but I was more invested in the interactions between the characters. Two of my favorite moments are at the beginning of the book, and towards the end when Mike starts telling his tale. The first is this interaction when everyone shows up minutes before the Video Rental Store closes, much to the annoyance of Steve:

Then there's this fun bit where Mike trolls everyone while the storm is raging and the power is out 😂:

It's also pretty amusing when one character tries to tell their story, and the others either question if it actually happened, starts poking holes in it (much to the irritation of the character telling their story), or even calling out when, from their perspective, the tale has a lousy ending:

It's interactions like this that make the book enjoyable. I'm glad we get to have most of the characters hanging out as friends without there being a crisis from the Upside Down that they have to deal with.

Overall, this was an entertaining read, and a fast-paced book. High recommendations to check it out when you can!

And once again, Happy Halloween everyone!

[supercantaloupe]

no one asked but here are my thoughts on the new met don giovanni from today. tl;dr: a couple of weird choices made but overall Quite good i liked it

elaine douvas jumpscare at the top lol

federica lombardi and ben bliss as anna and ottavio were the standouts to me. lombardi came out the gate STRONG with fuggi crudele and she keeps it up. and kudos to bliss as ottavio; i often find that he can be a pretty uninteresting character if not played carefully and bliss did a really great job making ottavio Interesting. face journey of the year award goes to his dalla sua pace (il mio tesoro honorable mention).

peter mattei sounds great obviously but is it just me or is he starting to get a leetle bit old for the role. not vocally but physically. like him next to ying fang is like. sure man yeah

alfred walker in the same camp honestly. like he did a great job singing masetto but i'll always laugh when like. giovinette che fate all'amore kicks up and they're like "here's the happy young couple :)" and the bass is obviously in his late forties at the youngest lmao

anyone else think adam plachetka looks. kind of like ted cruz. hello?

anyway i liked plachetka a lot largely because he seemed to actually remember that don giovanni is nominally a dramma giocoso and a lot of his little acting choices brought back some of the humor that i thought was a bit lacking in the production as a whole. also christ they bowl that fucking man across the stage a few times don't they

ying fang did a great job too. the lingering terror in her expression during la ci darem so juicy. also that bit in act ii when they're threatening leporello and she balls his shirt up in her fist even though he's like a foot taller than her. love her so much. also woman pretty

i liked stutzmann's conducting for the most part although nothing much Stood Out to me about it. except like two or three tempi i disagreed with and a couple of spots here or there that felt like the orchestra and singers weren't 100% together right away. but idk i'm not a conductor i assume doing a debut performance at the met with a new opera you haven't conducted before is A Challenge so.

a few scenes felt...strangely placid energy wise to me. notably the opening scene but a few other places too including elvira's arias for some reason? in some cases it's like i think more just could've been done with the blocking while nothing much else was going on but in other places there Was plenty of movement it just felt...low energy. idk. where's the hustle i thought this was life or death here

cool use of the fog rising out of the floor of the stage's incline

although the steep rake to the stage led to a few unintentionally awkward/funny (to me.) camera angles. like they were obviously shooting from stage level and it would normally be a straight medium/wide shot but because of the rake it ends up being a slightly weird low angle (especially funny to me when in terms of cinematography language this kind of undercuts the vibe of the character that's being shown onstage at the moment lol but what can ya do. i'm being very nitpicky anyway)

actually the set design in general surprised me. mostly because for like 90% of the show i'm like "it looks kind of interesting i guess but Why So Brutalist And Plain" although i like that having multiple levels lets there be some creative use of vertical space in the blocking. i was so ready to write it off as disappointing/underutilized to me until the very last chorus of the show they actually Do Something with it and it totally surprised me and i really liked it. made me wait for it! surprised me! credit where credit is due i liked that a lot in the end.

i do wonder though if this production would be completely undone with a little more color in it tho. like i Get what they were going for with all the grey and i do appreciate the roses and blood but i feel like you can still do More with a broader but still limited color palette without compromising the vision. at least you could be more creative with the lighting i feel like the met pretty consistently disappoints me with its lighting (which is usually "serviceable" to "attractive" but not really creative or adding all that much to the scene. sorry but musicals are still beating you at this particular game)

although what was with the ball scene. with the mannequins and random period dress for ottavio anna and elvira but no one else. i liked the costumes but what was the point

also that said re: lighting. a cenar teco FINALLY did something interesting with the lighting and projections. cool and i liked it. except for the fact that the projection was up for too long and you couldn't fucking see what was happening on the stage and don giovanni effectively just Disappeared. i realize this was intentional but either make the disappearance much more sudden/short or show me what happens to that little freak otherwise it just feels lazy

great cello in batti batti o bel masetto. liked.

FANTASTIC orchestra in la ci darem and especially its preceding recit. the combo of the theorbo + cello + harpsichord was so atmospheric, somehow adding both to the romantic atmosphere AND the "psychological horror" thing going on in that scene. which i love honestly that scene SHOULD look gorgeous and feel like a lead weight in your stomach and i love that they went there with it.

also sorry but the champagne aria could be blocked way more interestingly. try harder

mixed feelings on the blocking of the ball scene. i thought the choice to have the whole chorus there but be so still and stiff when dancing was interesting, it definitely conveyed the sort of control through fear that the don has on everybody, but at the same time the scene felt like it was missing life. as well as missing some of the chaotic energy i think is necessary to build up over the course of the scene to lead into the climax. plus what is that act finale? kind of a cop out imo not actually showing us a clever escape of any kind. i will give them points however for having the onstage musicians because i am a sucker for that. i could see one of those oboists onstage was playing a cocobolo instrument...preddy.

okay what the fuck was up with gia la mensa e preparata. i get that it can be a weird/tricky scene to block if you're doing a more Serious And Grounded (and/or Edgy) production (and this production i do think leans more towards that and further away from the comedy potential throughout, with some exception here or there) but dude the tonal whiplash. they go like full on farce for like a solid six minutes there it's kind of bizarre. like it's funny yeah but it feels like it comes out of nowhere and doesn't totally fit...like peter mattei didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with your food. although it was funny when he accidentally beaned plachetka in the face with a dinner roll. literally once elvira shows up the rest of the scene is Fine and i actually really like the way it's blocked and acted from that point on but What Was Up With That

also this is going to sound so weird both coming from me and speaking about this opera in particular but. it felt. weirdly not horny enough? also weird to say cause there was an above average amount of people lying on top of each other on the floor going on too but. like. idk. vedrai carino...a lot of elvira's acting...even some of mattei's i felt like there could've been More done in this respect without it pushing into the realm of excessive or distasteful. they really play up the He's A Sexual Predator angle of the character here but with more emphasis on the predator part and less on the sexual part i think. but idk maybe part of this has to do with me thinking walker and mattei look a little bit old and/or me not being generally as into men. ah well

anyway not to be really annoying all the time but if you liked this production (especially a lot of its aesthetic choices) i am once again recommending the 2017 aix production it's on youtube and it's soooo good. and has a Lot of similarities with this one stylistically. and also i love it

[trekkele]

You mentioned in one of your tags that you'd like to write a fic where the batkids find out Alfred wasn't so awesome a parent to Bruce and I wanted to ask if you'd like to share some ideas and directions where you could imagine it going?

Would it change the way the kids think and act around Alfred? Or Bruce? And what are some Major Mistakes Alfred made that in retrospect make a lot of sense regarding Bruce's parenting? And what sent the boulder of realisation going in the first place?

I know it sounds like I'm asking for spoilers or the actual, complete plotline which you probably haven't thought out yet, but I'm just curious about various versions of situations and realisations you think could happen. Or things that you'd like to work into your fic but it just wouldn't fit.

Basically, I love your writing and I love this kind of DramaTM within the Batfam and I'd cherish any crumb of information you would like to share.

Thank you and have a wonderful day! <3

Ok so this premise does rely on good dad Bruce, not because shitty parents cant come from shitty parents (they do, usually) but because i think seeing Bruce not do the things Alfred does would be how the kids (specifically Dick) realize what kind of parent Alfred is.

And this is really a reaction to the “Alfred is a saint for putting up with Bruce” fandom attitude because if you, as a parent or a guardian, are incapable of parenting a kid, no matter how difficult that kid is, it is your responsibility to either find a way to become what your kid needs or find someone who can. I know a lot of us had shitty parents but a traumatized nine year old shouldnt be “put up with” or “handled” they should be parented. At the very least they should be loved, and they should know they are loved. (Gets off parenting soapbox, climbs onto fandom soapbox)

Also every time i think about this fic i start thinking “maybe Alfred deserves some more grace” because he was put in a pretty impossible situation immediately after losing two people he deeply respected, if not loved, and lets be reasonable the 80-90s were uh, not an ideal time for difficult parenting, and the therapy available for children back then would have probably made things worse if not outright given Bruce ptsd (if he didnt already have that), so theres that. On the other hand, Alfred is also fairly consistently shown as being deeply unkind about idiosyncrasies, and unwilling to admit when he’s wrong.

And theres only so many times you can call your adult child an idiot, and imply that you believe every one of their choices to be invalid or wrong, before it turns out that you are Part of The Problem, or at the very least, A Bitch.

Anyways.

The thing is, i dont think it would change much. I think they might stop taking Alfreds word as gospel, especially in regards to Bruce, and i think they might be more forgiving towards Bruce when he messes up in the long term, but the truth is that whats it going to change? How do you apologize to someone for that? What are you apologizing for?

Because ultimately i dont think Bruce is ready to admit that Alfred is, or was, wrong. Bruce knows he was a bad kid, a difficult kid. His teachers and his family and the newspapers, and even Alfred, have admitted that Bruce was a hard kid to raise. Probably harder to love. He’s never surprised when people leave him, after all.

He does know his own kids don’t deserve that style of parenting though. But thats because they’re better than him. He has to do better because they deserve better, because he chose to be there for them. Alfred never really got that choice, did he? Bruce’s parents trusted Alfred, and Alfred stayed out of his respect for them. Not the bratty kid who cried for a year and refused to speak and would hide under the bed instead of sleep.

And thats another thing - if Bruce admits that Alfred wasnt a good parent, if he admits that Alfred made some terrible mistakes, does that mean he’s betraying the trust his parents placed in him? Is he casting blame onto two people he can only idolize, because to do otherwise is to admit he doesn’t remember much of them anymore?

As for how the kids find out, i think Dick realized in his own. I think Jason realizes because Dick stops him from walking in and interrupting a conversation between the two and before he can ask whats going on he hears Alfred slap Bruce. Im not sure about the rest.

*i started answering this, got distracted, finished writing it in my head, and then forgot i never answered it in reality. But i think thats most of what i wanted to say.

[semper-legens]

189. Salt to the Sea, by Ruta Sepetys

Owned: No, library Page count: 378 My summary: Emilia. Florian. Joana. Alfred. Four young people from different lands, all thrown together in the chaos of the Second World War. East Prussia is being evacuated. Desperate people are fleeing the country to the ships promised to take them far away. But disaster is lurking on the horizon. When it's every person for themselves, who will live and who will die? My rating: 3/5 My commentary:

I thought I'd never read this book before. And yet, when I got about 50 pages in, it started to seem familiar - strangely familiar. I've read a couple of Ruta Sepetys' books before, namely I Must Betray You and Out of the Easy, which I haven't covered here. The former I didn't like, the latter I actually enjoyed. This is one of her earlier works, though not the earliest - it's apparently something of a sequel to a book called Between Shades of Gray, which I'm 90% sure that I haven't read. To its credit, I don't think not having read the earlier book hampered my engagement with this one. But less charitably…I wasn't all too keen on this one, it has to be said. While it wasn't bad in and of itself, I found it to be sensationalist and simplistic, and overall didn't quite live up to my expectations.

This story is about the Wilhelm Gustoff, a ship that was meant to be evacuating refugees from East Prussia during World War Two, but was sunk by Russian torpedoes, killing roughly nine thousand of the ten thousand people aboard. The story follows four teenagers - pregnant Polish girl Emilia, Lithuanian nurse Joana, Prussian boy Florian, and Nazi recruit Alfred. More on them later. The story follows the refugees as they travel to the ship, and the trials they face along the way, then ends with the sinking of the Wilhelm Gustoff. There's a lot of promise here - the chaos towards the end of the Second World War, the point of view of civilians from Eastern Europe which isn't so often told, an eye on a historical tragedy which the average reader might not have heard about.

But everything here was just a little bit too simplistic. Alfred's parts of the story kept hammering in how cowardly and weaselly and pathetic he is, Emilia's chapters made her seem like a saint, Florian's angst and brooding over how he's totally gonna be killed if he gets found out really doesn't fit the crime he's committing, and Joana's past is ill-defined and her story focuses more on her relationship with Florian. It's obvious that Florian and Joana are going to be the survivors. Emilia is too innocent, and Alfred is too bad. Even factoring in the extended cast - blind Ingrid is the first to go, then rude giantess Eva, then the sympathetic Shoe Poet. The child survives, because he's an innocent in a much purer way than Emilia. It's basic storytelling, and once that who's-going-to-make-it tension is gone, there really isn't that much left in the narrative to write home about.

And the narrative style is just too overblown for me. Every chapter is screaming look I've got secrets am I not the most mysterious thing to you, to the point where it just gets annoying. And the secrets themselves aren't all that shocking. It doesn't take a genius to guess that Emilia is a fantasist and the child she's carrying was concieved after an assault, or that Alfred's apparent sweetheart Hannelore isn't actually his sweetheart, and that he turned her in to the Nazis. Florian's whole thing, that he's carrying a small part of the Amber Room in defiance of Nazi Gauleiter Erich Koch, isn't all that compelling either. I was assuming he was involved in some anti-Nazi action - while this is technically anti-Nazi, it's hardly lifesaving revolutionary work. Joana, meanwhile, the audience is expected to be familiar with, which means I couldn't get much of a read on her. It's so disappointing, this could have been really good, but I was just taken out of it at every turn.

Next, three brave girls escape captivity in Australia.

[danwhobrowses]

Netflix's Wednesday - Review

So the latest attempt at rebooting the Addams Family comes in the form of Netflix's Wednesday. Fresh off of The Sandman's success, the show sported a cast of Jenny Ortega, Gwendoline Christie, Catherine Zeta-Jones and even Christina Ricci (Wednesday from the 90s movies), while also being directed mostly by Tim Burton, music by Danny Elfman, and written by Alfred Gough and Miles Millar, we'll see how Netflix does with this.

Bear in mind, the Addams Family I am perhaps going to compare this to the most is the 90s movies of Ricci, Raul Julia, Anjelica Hutson and Christopher Lloyd - as well as Burton, but I also will be observing Ortega's portrayal of an older Wednesday similar to Youtube's 'Adult Wednesday Addams' shorts by Melissa Hunter (who later went on to do some writing for Santa Clarita Diet and She-Hulk), whose shorts were sadly cease and desisted - which could've been partly due to production of this very show, but I won't hold that against it.

Spoilers for Season 1 of Wednesday

So I'm going to review based on four key points; Production, Plot, Side Characters, and Wednesday herself, hopefully this way I will be able to express the pros and cons of the full scope of the show.

Production Production of the show was very sound actually; music was good, setting and costuming was also very well-done, showing differences from Wednesday's gothic style, Enid's bright and bubbly, Kinbott's clean whites, there are the theme motifs that you'd expect from a Burton-esque story.

In that same vein though, cgi was an oof at times, particularly for the Hyde, which was too uncanny to see past the Burton-esque bug-eyed claymations, Enid's wolf form was a bit iffy too.

But for the most part, Jericho and Nevermore academy did feel like real places that existed outside the vacuum of Wednesday's presence.

Oh also! Some things were just wrong, particularly the off-comment on Ophelia, Ophelia wasn't driven mad by her family she went mad over her lover, Hamlet. Given how Ricci's Wednesday performed Hamlet at school that's a definite gap.

Plot The plot is probably one of the things I am most on the fence about. For its pluses, it did work towards creating character development for Wednesday, layered into a murder mystery story, layered into a spooky high school scenario. It had some lovely easter eggs primarily playing on Addams family leitmotifs specifically the iconic double snap. There is a balance as well of being gothic but also caught up to current affairs, expanding the world more familiar to the Addamses via the presentation of 'outcasts'. The plot does invite a second series as well, but doesn't try to force it either.

However, there are things I struggle to shake off. For one, it doesn't help that this feels far too much like The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, another stylistic reboot of a gothic female teen character in a gothic academy uncovering prophecies and having frosty relationships with the Queen Bee's kliq, while also engaging in her own love triangle and fighting a vengeful entity of the past. I do find it odd as well why we necessitated Wednesday to be in a high school setting, since her character had often been presented as emotionally mature and aware, in some cases it does feel like Wednesday was plopped into a monster high school concept to buff up its budget. Much of the murder mystery feels like it has holes in it as well, with characters simply acting oblivious or unhelpful to one another, Wednesday's continued distrust in Xavier for instance rides on the annoying side even when DNA didn't match, and Sheriff Galpin had been suspicious of a monster since episode 1 but chose not to suspect his son who he had worried carried on the genetics of his mother? Tis odd to say the least. Weens and Wednesday had their annoyances too, simply caused by a lack of communication.

The love triangle also felt unnecessary, it was perhaps to try and push the idea that Xavier was the threat to smokescreen Tyler but honestly I'm more disappointed in the Tyler reveal than shocked, because it falls so painfully hard down to cliché, as does much of the high school melodrama. For better or for worse; Bianca, Eugene, Ajax, Xavier and Enid are very cookie-cutter level high school clichés and frankly Xavier is still not a great love interest for Wednesday, let's not forget his actions at the Rave'N. For a story where Wednesday is being sent to an academy of people like her, there is an awfully apparent lack of people like Wednesday anyway, which bodes the need to change high school settings?

I will also note my dislike of the whole concept of 'outcasts vs normies', what made the Addams family good was indeed their counternormative lifestyle but they still existed peacefully among society, in Wednesday it wasn't bad that the main villain was a hypocritical reanimated pilgrim with a magic staff but it did harm the show that every 'normie' character was either dead or complicit to the evil side, thematically it failed in a lot of areas. Also was I the only one who caught on quickly that Thornhill was the enemy? Even before the introduction of Laurel? I mean Laurel is the name for a plant for one and it feels obvious to write Christina Ricci as the new Wednesday's antagonist anyway. The 'outcasts' don't seem too different in physiology either, it may've been a movie thing but the Addams often tended to be indestructible, they drink Cyanide, they can survive a point-blank bomb, they do the electric chair as a child's game, so it is kind of a far cry to 'do you mind ghost ex machina, I have been stabbed to death'. Finally it's probably gonna sound controversial to some but it was not lost on me that that nearly every male character ends up being useless in the climax, only Eugene comes in clutch and it's only to distract, Xavier makes things even more dire, Thing is AWOL, Galpin does shoot his own son but it's an extension of his inaction, and Ajax is just a spectator. I know writers want to try to stress strong female characters but that doesn't mean every male character must be either evil, useless or a cheap shot in it, the goal is supposed to be equality is it not?

Side Characters As a result of the plot issues, the side characters did suffer much. Enid was presented as the polar opposite of Wednesday, which did work in her favour a lot, her half-baked romance with Ajax is perhaps an underdeveloped spot however, underdeveloped also being the key word to use for Bianca and Walker - the mayor's son. Eugene is underbaked too, what could've worked as a good 'innocent cinnabon' character did end up being kept away from much of the series for too long. Tracking back to Enid, of course people immediately ship her with Wednesday, she could've been any kind of character and people would pair her because fandom is how fandom does. If you ship it it's okay but honestly I see it as platonic (reminder that two people of any gender are allowed to be just good friends), I feel like Ajax can be more of a character and it's a bit mean to disregard him too, bright colours doesn't always mean queer coding either but I will give you that 'Lycan conversion camp' did feel like a shoehorn of gay conversion therapy in its dialogue, however I don't think she 'wolfed out' because of Wednesday, they hinted it before she was clued on in Wednesday being in danger.

Principal Weems is perhaps the character who suffered the most from the narrative, it felt like she would be the obstacle for Wednesday out of jealousy towards Morticia, but really she just acts pretty fairly, if not a bit politically. Her then dying in the finale felt like a waste.

The Galpins became a mixed bag in the end, because Sheriff Galpin did feel like a good guy who needed to learn to trust the 'outcasts' more and open up, but in the end he just turned out to be a hypocrite indecisive about whether he's being oblivious towards his son's nature or looking for someone to take the fall for his son's crimes. I've already expressed my disappointment in the Tyler turn, mainly the fact that it ended up just being an act - it did a lot feel like the actor was only told when doing the final episode, because he did feel like a nice kid - I still don't know how he wounded himself but it just felt like a letdown that he was the cliché honeytrap minion who is fully aware of his evils. Thornhill at least had more method in her 'too nice' persona.

Xavier was the grumpy artist who felt more like he expected reward for interacting with Wednesday, and while she did wrongly hound him with accusations he wasn't exactly likable either. Rowan as well was a character who kinda was...well, dumb. The dude sees a picture his mother drew of Wednesday and a guy who clearly looks like a Pilgrim and decides Wednesday is the villain, sure maybe Telekinesis did fuck with his brain but it does mean that the foundation of Wednesday's investigations becomes born out of misinterpretation.

Which leads us to the Addams family themselves and, it's a mixed bag. I know people will say 'people don't think Morticia and Gomez are goals anymore because they're not hot' but honestly, chemistry is important. I've seen Catherine Zeta-Jones in the Zorro films, the chemistry she had with Banderas is far and beyond what she has with Luis Guzmán. I don't think I liked that their relationship with Wednesday had waned either, I understand high school is teenage rebellion phase but again, Wednesday had always been to my experiences very emotionally mature, in Addams Family Values one of the first things she says is 'they had sex' when countering a child's story about a stork bringing babies. Pugsley suffered the most in the short time he was there, suddenly unable to take care of himself and despite being Addams-like, still being conscious enough to be bullied by high school jocks. The Gomez murder plot was weak too, the build up of 'she wouldn't believe it' being just that Morticia killed Gareth Gates (not the singer) in self-defense was also weak I was expecting a lot more. On the plus side, Fester and Thing were great, Fester was only in one episode but was entertaining and frantic, while Thing provided a lightness as both accomplice and wingman to Wednesday, but also having a mostly unseen bond with Enid and experiences with Tyler and Xavier.

Wednesday herself Jenny Ortega, writing aside, was fantastic as Wednesday. Having nailed the cold wide glare, the dry tone and the silver tongued clapbacks, Ortega turned Wednesday into a capable, inquisitive loner but also one with flaws of being uncompassionate, untrusting and having been absorbed by tunnel vision. While Wednesday has these flaws that distances her from others, it also works to develop her on wearing down on these flaws. I do have some annoyance with the mother issues she has, the unpredictable nature of her visions are rather convenient also, but some of the best scenes are also moments where Wednesday is in full expression of her true self, particularly the cello scenes and the dance scene at the Rave'N. Ortega certainly filled the shoes of an iconic role that often kept the show afloat.

Conclusion Overall, Wednesday was a good start as a spinoff, setting the foundations of what the show would be like. I would certainly watch more of Wednesday herself but I would dedicate more time to fleshing out the side characters properly, while also remembering the counter-normalcy roots of the Addams Family's appeal. Remember that Wednesday is not simply a gothier Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, and overescalation does not make things more successful, Adult Wednesday Addams thrived on putting Wednesday's character in normal and everyday scenarios such as one night stands, confronting catcalling or having a job interview, people will watch for Wednesday but that doesn't mean effort beyond cliché and the odd wink nudge to the camera should not be put in.

The show is a decent watch, but considering Ortega's performance and the shoes they're filling, there was certainly more we could've gotten out of it.