#He gets Jason ghost guns and Jason is very content with that

[xysidhequeen]

The King and his Red Knight

DPxDC crossover fic

Part 1

Really sorry to everyone who suffered through the fact that I didn't know about the existence of readmore. I can't fix the thread now but the individual posts are better? Sorry I have like a very rough idea of how this site works 😭

Check the: The King and his Red Knight tag to find all the parts

"Go here, Danny. Go then, Danny. Go to a random cemetery in the middle of the night for no reason, Danny." A voice grumbled, accompanied by the sound of sneakers rhythmically tapping stone.

Danny Fenton, currently Phantom, sat on a gravestone, his white hair a beacon in the dark night. There were no stars in the sky for him to gaze upon, their light hidden behind swaths of smog and neon lights playing off the gray clouds.

Clockwork had dumped him here, with no explanation for why. Not that he ever really explained much when he sent Danny off on his tasks. He supposed he should be grateful, at least he was in the same when rather than being transported a thousand years into the past.

"Wait here King Phantom. You will understand in time." Danny mimicked his mentor's voice as he let himself float off the grave he'd been dumped on after Clockwork shoved him out of a portal. His body floated higher until he could flip around, his legs crossing. He sat upside down, his chin in his palm as he glared petulantly at the assembled gravestones surrounding him, his toxic green eyes glowing.

"So far all I've seen is a concerning amount of ecotplasm for a city without a ghost portal and some blob ghosts! How long am I supposed to wait here?" Danny asked the air, and the aforementioned blob ghosts who were hanging off his body, soaking in the ambient ecotoplasm he radiated at all times now.

Neither provided him with an answer to his question and Danny let out a frustrated groan as he lowered his still flipped body to look once more on the gravestone he'd been tasked with waiting on.

Jason Todd, the name read. The dates, too close together, made something in Danny squeeze painfully. He'd been young, barely older than Danny when he stepped into the portal. Only for this teenager there had been no ectoplasm to bind to his dying body and repair the damage of death and force him back into a semblance of life.

"Who were you and why did Clockwork send me to you?" Danny asked the gravestone, one clawed finger tracing the words before he pulled back with a sigh when the gravestone gave him no explanation. The dead didn't always speak, not even to their king.

Turning his body Danny looked over the rest of the cemetery. It was empty, as most usually were this time of night, of the living. There were a few shades wandering around, circling closer to him, drawn by his presence. No full ghosts though, but oddly enough there rarely were in cemeteries. This was where the dead came to rest. To remember, if they wanted to. Cemeteries were sacred spaces to the dead, much as a temple or a church would be for the living who were religious. Ghosts who still clung to life, to their obsessions, did not frequent cemeteries, did not dare trespass and disturb those who had already found their peace.

Danny himself was an oddity. He had never shied from cemeteries, enjoying the peace he found in them, the guarantee of safety offered. And perhaps, he mourned that he himself would never have a gravestone for the living to place their flowers and their tears at. Who would make a grave for someone who was both alive and dead? There would never be a body to bury for him. His human half would continue to live on so long as his ghost core remained and could fuel it.

Maybe that was why he found peace in cemeteries, for all his whining that Clockwork had dumped him here. Cemeteries were for the living and the dead, one of the only places both existed in harmony naturally. For someone who was as much dead as he was alive such a place held a certain degree of belonging for him.

Danny straightened out in the air, letting his body lie above the grave as he folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the covered sky. He complained and whined about this task, but he was secretly glad that Clockwork had given him something to do. Even if it was just 'hang out in a random cemetary'.

Ever since he'd graduated high-school, revealed himself to his parents and discovered how deep prejudice and hate could run, and he'd run away to the Infinite Realms for sanctuary while his friends moved forward with their lives, he'd felt unmoored. A ghost with no haunt. Bored was too light a word for the gaping emptiness he felt in his chest, for the loneliness clawing at him. Clockwork, Wulf, Pandora they could help chip at the ache inside of him but not banish it. Not now that his family, his friends, were spread so far apart and so distant from him.

Not that he resented their choices, their distance, in fact he'd fought for them to do just that, to get out of Amity Park, to go to college, to become more than overworked teen superheroes. Still he missed them, even if he could visit them whenever he wanted. It was becoming clear as time moved forward that the world they belonged to and the one he did were two different things.

Danny Fenton couldn't go to college when his parents had declared him dead. Danny Fenton didn't exist as far as the government was concerned. Danny Phantom couldn't return to Amity when those same parents were waiting to capture him and tear him apart 'molecule by molecule'. Danny Phantom couldn't go back when the GIW were crawling over the town like ants.

So neither Danny Fenton or Danny Phantom returned to Amity after that day. And he made sure they couldnt follow him when he ensured the portal that took his life to function never opened again. He didn't need the portal any longer to get in and out of the Infinite Realms, and it was safer for the ghosts, his subjects, if the temptation of the Fenton portal was gone.

The world of the living was not yet ready to accept that the dead didn't always stay dead. And Danny would keep his people safe until they were.

Danny jolted from his lazing state of reverie when a pulse of emotion rocked through him, the strength of it stealing his breath if he had any to take.

Fear/Trapped/Dark/Fear/Help/HELP pounded into him and Danny frantically flipped around, head swiveling, poisonous green eyes wide as he triedf to locate the source. The emotions, the plea for help, burned his core, his Obsession screamed at him.

Help/SomeonePlease/Dark/Trapped/CANTBREATHE/HELP another wave of messages, of emotions pushed themselves at Danny and this time underneath the onslaught he could hear a rhythmic thudding. Danny looked down, horror filling him when he realized the thudding was coming from under the ground. From the grave he'd been hovering over for an hour now.

Danny flew down, sending back a wave of I'mHere/HelpIsComing/I'mComing to the boy trapped in his own coffin, feeling the intense wave of relief and hope sent back before he dived into the earth as if it wasn't there. Danny paused for a moment when he passed the thick wooden coffin, seeing a boy in the dark with wide, panicked blue eyes and fingers tipped with shredded nails and fresh blood.

"Hey, I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" Danny told the boy, keeping his voice gentle, soft. The boy jolted, fixating on the only source of light, Danny's growing green eyes. Danny hoped his smile came off as calming instead of 'freaky AF' as Tucker liked to call it. He grabbed the boy, Jason, as carefully as he could and then let his intangibility wash over the terrified teen as he lifted them both out of the coffin.

When they emerged from the coffin and the ground Danny set the teen down, leaning him against the gravestone, his own gravestone, and pulled back a bit. The boy was gasping in air as if the fetid, polluted air was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted.

Danny tilted his head as he watched the boy ground himself. Now that the emotions were leveling out and his Obsession was purring in contentment rather than growling in a frenzy, Danny could feel something off about the boy.

Disregarding the fact that he'd just come back from the dead, of course. But that wasn't the oddest thing Danny had seen in his afterlife. No the boy felt... not like a normal, living human. Not even like an Amity Park resident, who all felt more than slightly liminal. No this boy, this Jason Todd, felt closer to liminal than even Jazz, Tucker or Sam, who were three of the most liminal humans Danny had ever been around.

Jason felt almost...like a ghost. But not. Danny could feel the tickle in his throat that proceeded his ghost sense but the tell-tale mist never emerged. It was as if Jason was...like him. But Danny couldn't sense a core either. Even halfas had cores.

"Who are you?" Jason spoke, breaking Danny from his thoughts and examination. Jason was looking at him with a mix of gratitude and suspicion. Which, fair. Danny had just pulled him from his own coffin and there were so many questions that could stem from all of this, disregarding all the weirdness that was just Danny himself.

"I'm Danny, Danny Phantom. Or just Phantom. I go by either. And you're Jason, right?" Danny asked, smiling at the teen and oops, yeah that was definitely his scary smile based on the slight flinch there. It wasn't his fault his teeth were too sharp now and his lips split a bit too wide.

"How did you know that?" Jason asked, blue eyes narrowing. Danny nodded at the gravestone the boy was leaning against with a raised brow. Jason turned and almost toppled over from the movement. Danny frowned as the boy caught himself on his gravestone. His skin was still pale, too pale, and as Danny watched Jason swayed again.

"Shit. You're fading. You didn't form a core and your body isn't stabilizing." Danny cursed, moving towards the boy who scrambled back, only to be stopped by his grave.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jason asked, hands fisting as he tried to rise only to fall back to the ground when his legs refused to hold his weight.

"Saving your life. The dead aren't supposed to come back. There's always a price to pay, a balance that is struck. Currently, as you are, if I don't get enough ectoplasm in you to form your core, you'll fade and turn into a brain-dead husk." Danny told Jason, tone stern and no nonsense as he grabbed him. Jason made an effort to break free, but it was weak, and even at full strength, he wouldn’t have been able to break Danny's hold. Few in this realm could.

If they had the time, Danny would've approached this situation in a far different manner, but this close he could hear Jason's heartbeat, a weak flutter in his chest, skipping beats as it tried to fuel a body that was past saving. Jason didn't have the time for Danny to approach this gently and kindly, to coax trust out of the teen like he would a feral cat.

Jason had minutes left before his ectoplasm starved body consumed itself trying to make a core and failed because while wherever they were had more ambient ectoplasm than most places, it was far from enough to sustain the birth of a halfa. Maybe if Jason had stayed dead for another year, he'd have naturally formed a core and risen as a proper ghost. But that wasn't what happened, somehow he'd gathered enough to fix his body of whatever wounds or illness had put him in that coffin to begin with and come back to 'life' but without a core to sustain his body he'd be dead, again, in minutes. And Danny was not about to watch while a teenager, another teenager, died.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Jason hissed as Danny pushed his arms down and laid his clawed hands on Jason's chest.

"You don't. But you don't have another choice." Danny said with a shrug. "Now are you going to let me save your life or not?" Danny asked, not moving his hands. He'd save Jason either way but this would be easier if Jason worked with him.

"Fine." Jason spat and Danny smirked as his hands began to glow a toxic green that matched his eyes.

Ectoplasm pooled out of his hands and rushed into Jason, filling him until the boy glowed bright enough to rival the neon lights of the city around them. The green light flared around him like an aura, slowly shrinking but getting impossibly brighter as the glow centralized around his chest until a small glowing ball of green, like a trapped star, blazed from his chest.

Jason gasped, back arching as Danny pulled his hands away and the light vanished under Jason's skin. For a moment Jason's blue eyes burned green and his hair flashed snow white before returning to black, with one single lock of unearthly white left above his forehead. Jason collapsed back against his grave, chest heaving. Danny watched, eyes full of a sad understanding.

"What the fuck was that?" Jason panted out.

"Welcome to the world of the half alive, half dead." Danny said with a smile. "Want to get a burger and talk about it?" He asked, standing up and dusting off his hands.

"Make it a chili dog and you've got a deal."

~~~~~

Fixed some typos added some lines

Maybe I'll continue this AU. Maybe not. This scene was in my head for days and I wanted to share

[starwrighter]

(I will tag everyone who wants to be tagged for any of my previous prompts but it might take awhile since I'm taking a break from writing to help my Mom recover from a stroke. Now! Heres a prompt before I go silent.)

I'm going to yoink chunks of content from my previous prompts (shapeshifting and the one about Danny's core reforming according to how long he's been dead,)

Now throw Vlad into the mix. Vlad is desperate to have Maddie and no longer cares if Danny is his son. He now thinks of Danny as a problem he has to dispose of. So Vlad being the bastard he is brutally slaughters Danny, making sure his body is beyond repair.

Vlad, not knowing halfas can reform like ghosts takes Danny's core and uses it as a paperweight or puts it on display. All while telling Danny's parents that Danny had run away.

Danny with his core out in the open is able to reform as literal two year old. With his newfound baby brain that is riddled with trauma he barely remembers, decides that Vlad has bad vibes and promptly dips by shifting into a bird and phasing through a window.

Now Danny is on the run, with Vlad trying to find him. Everytime he shifts into human form either people freak out or Vlad finds him. So he just stays a bird, only shifting back when he needed human dexterity or had a safe place to rest. Even though staying shapeshifted all the time is draining and painful he knows what Vlad would do is worse.

Inevitably, he finds himself in Gotham. He's just hopping around as a bird before he runs into the bats and his core registers them as halfas. Immediately the gremlin instincts kick in and Danny starts fucking with them in everyway he can possibly think of. He messes with them when their out as civilians and vigilantes because he's two and doesn't have the logical reasoning skills to see why that would be a bad Idea.

So he just starts going ham, snagging keys, knocking cups out of their hands, fluttering around them and chirping constantly but pecking their fingers whenever they try to touch him. He gets into places it should impossible for him to get to and just stares at their confused faces. He grabs objects left out and charges at whichever Batfam member was unlucky enough to be in his vicinity. (Damian left a knife out on purpose to see what would happen. Jason tried to give the bird a gun for the same reason,)

Danny does help them in his own way though. He helps by chirping and throwing rocks to lead them to crime scenes. Brings shiny objects to offer them. He alerts the other bats when one of them is injured or needs backup. Overall he is their moral support even though he is gremlin.

Eventually one of the Batfam follows Danny to wherever he was hiding out. Maybe they were hoping to catch him, or maybe they were curious of the weird acting bird. Either way they are absolutely horrified when the bird that's been following them on very dangerous patrol routes turns into a tiny toddler.

[omegasmileyface]

The Forest, the Trees, the Fire I: CATALYST

Chapter 8

things get serious. Authors: myself, @ectolemonades, and @attackradish Artist: @/crunchysart

For the full characters list, word count, content warning, and a directory to all the currently available chapters and related content, see the Table of Contents!

full summary: The world outside of Amity Park has learned about the existence of ghosts, and the time for first impressions has arrived. The delicate public consciousness could be disrupted by the slightest ripple. Danny Fenton is being ripped apart from all sides, and when he finally breaks, the ripples will be very big indeed.

warnings: brief undetailed torture, brief mild description of vivisection

words: 3718

AO3 link

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===

January 20, 2007

The brick walls that lined the libraries of the Ghost Zone were never designed to keep the living out. One by one, GIW operatives filed in.

Typically, they wouldn’t have hesitated to storm in, guns blazing, and use whatever force necessary to get what they wanted. But today they were on the hunt for information, and any careless destruction or even alerting the wrong ghost could keep them from their prize.

Getting to the libraries had been less of a hassle than expected. Ghosts they came across seemed to ignore them, proving the amulets they carried worked as described. The closer they got to “the wastes” or whatever those eyeball freaks had called it, the less ghosts they saw.

Operative J, less formally known as Jason Redding, tried to hide how unnerved he was that the library smelled the same as one back home would. That made no sense to him.

Jason, like the rest of the team, scanned the shelves of books. They went so high it was as if they climbed into infinity, which could very well be a possibility in the senseless place. Ladders were attached to them, the rolling type that every kid wanted to precariously ride across a shelf at least once.

Why would ghosts need ladders? Couldn’t they all fly? Was it just for the… library ambiance?

Operative K, the leader of the task force, spoke confidently. “Alright team, quit gawking. I doubt what we’re looking for is out in the open like this. It’s either hidden away, protected, or both.” The team stood at attention, eyes on him.

They knew they were looking for some sort of scrolls which apparently held information that would give them the upper hand in finally eradicating ghosts.

At that moment, a ghost floated through the shelves, seeming to notice them only when they were right in front of it.

“Excuse me, but I don’t think you can be in here.” It readied itself to act, but not before Operative K pulled a small, round device from his utility belt. He pressed a button and a beam of light shot out and pulled the ghost in.

It was called the Specter Sphere, made by the GIW using similar technology to the Fenton Thermos but on a smaller scale. Easier for them to carry around on missions like this, and more covert for the public to carry once it became available.

“If any ghosts interact with you, capture them. We may need them to translate some of this for us,” Operative K said. Jason felt for his Sphere, hanging off his belt just in front of his ectoblaster.

The team received their instructions. They broke off into four pairs and fanned out, searching for some sort of secret area with important texts as well as anything that looked useful along the way.

Jason got paired with Operative K. No pressure or anything. The two walked silently through the collection, eyes scanning the spines of books and edges of shelves for anything that may steer them in the right direction.

They reached the end of a row, coming to a wall with a navigation sign on it. The arrows reported the circulation desk and the fiction section to the left and nonfiction and artifacts to the right.

“If we went to the circulation desk, we could ask for directions, right?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Jason knew he was in for it. He’d gotten too comfortable with how normal the library seemed.

“Of course, Operative J, we can just walk right up to whatever ghost is on shift and ask them where to find important information to help us eradicate this place. Remind me how you got on this task force?”

Jason didn’t respond.

“Anyway, we’re heading in the direction of these artifacts. They should put us on the right track.”

There was no telling how long they’d been searching the library. Jason had plucked a couple of books from the shelves as they followed more navigation signs towards the ghostly artifacts, and though he had no idea what their alien titles meant, they were thick books from the history section, so he figured they may be helpful. A few of the other operatives had reported capturing ghosts and that ghost activity seemed to be increasing, but no one reported important findings.

“Did you ever think that it was… I don’t know, odd? That those eyeballs gave us all this help?” Jason said.

Operative K snorted. “Probably thought we’d go easy on them if they helped us. Too bad.”

They finally entered a room full of glass display cases, like a museum. On one wall was a large, vaguely familiar portrait that looked as though it had seen better days, flanked by tattered flags and pennants.

“Isn’t that the ghost who tried to put Amity Park in the Ghost Zone?” Jason approached the portrait, not really paying attention to anything else in the room as the recognition dawned on him.

“Figures they would celebrate something like that,” Operative K muttered. He joined Jason next to the portrait.

“Do you think something in here is a switch to a secret room? Or might tell us where we need to look?” Jason asked.

“No, I’ve already found it.” Operative K grabbed the edge of the portrait and swung it outward. Behind it, a little nook in the wall hid behind glass.. Through the dim light, the pair could just barely see the scrolls they were looking for inside.

“That was too obvious.” Operative K paused, pressing a finger to his earpiece. “Everyone to the artifacts room, we’ve got it.”

"Is it really the time to scream and to shout? Use your library voice. There are readers about."

Jason whipped around to find where the voice was coming from, but it seemed to be all around them.

“Cool it, Operative J, this is just a ghost trick,” Operative K said.

“Onto the intruders, nearby glass shattered. Tomes fallen from shelves left them beaten and battered.” A nearby display case exploded as books propelled themselves off of shelves. Jason and Operative K covered their faces and ducked.

“Shrapnel and novels won't stop them from stealing, but amidst many weapons, clubs might leave them squealing.”

Another case burst and a massive, spiked club rose into the air above them. It swung down, and the two scrambled before rolling away in opposite directions.

The other members of the task force began running into the room, chased by various flying objects.

“Chaos for intruders! It's treasures they want, so they’ll be bombarded by the hoard in this haunt.”

“Sir, I think it’s the Ghost Writer!” One of them cried out, trying to smack a book out of the air.

Crashing and raised voices drifted in from outside the room. Every object in the air dropped with a clamor.

“Sir, we found this hipster hiding behind a shelf.” An operative brought in a disheveled grey ghost in handcuffs with an operative holding either arm.

“I’ll have you know I’m in charge of this establishment, and none of you are welcome here!” the ghost snapped.

“Ghost Writer?” Operative K said. Ghost Writer glared at him, with a curt nod and an eye roll in response.

“You are not permitted to take anything from this library. I demand you leave immediately,” Ghost Writer said.

“We won’t be leaving without what we want.”

Ghost Writer wrenched against the man and woman holding him, but they forced him to his knees. Operative K knelt down in front of him, pulling out the vial of blood blossom gas and holding it in front of Ghost Writer’s face.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Let us have those scrolls.” He pointed to the opening in the wall.

“You can’t take those! Those are precious artifacts, and they’re the only copies,” Ghost Writer insisted. Operative K twisted the cap on the vial just enough to let some of the gas leak out before he closed it again.

The fumes of the gas were potently floral, but had no effect beyond that on the operatives. Ghost Writer, however, hissed and writhed, his face twisted in discomfort.

“I’m telling you again. Let us have those scrolls.”

Jason watched the scene in awe. It seemed almost human the way the blood blossoms seemed to cause Ghost Writer pain. They’d completely immobilized a ghost who had been wreaking havoc just moments before and now had full control over the situation. It was impressive to think of the things the team he was part of could do.

Operative K released enough of the gas to make Ghost Writer cry out in pain. He squirmed, doubling over awkwardly with both of his arms still restrained. If a human were in that position, their shoulders would probably dislocate.

“Fine! I’ll get them out for you!” He yelled in a strained voice. Operative K stood, and the two other operatives hauled Ghost Writer to his feet. They dragged him toward the glass panel in the wall.

“We’ll uncuff you now, but if you try anything, there’s more where that came from,” Operative K waved the vial at Ghost Writer while he was being uncuffed. How much of that gas was even in there? Or was it so harmful to ghosts that even small amounts could render them completely incapacitated?

Ghost Writer looked like he wanted to talk back, but thought better of it. He rubbed his now-free wrists. A garbled static sound filled the room, seeming to come from Ghost Writer’s open mouth. The sound was overwhelming, and left a ringing in everyone’s ears once it stopped. The glass panel disappeared, leaving the space in the wall open.

Ghost Writer made a futile attempt at running away. Almost immediately, he was knocked to the ground by multiple shots from ectoblasters. He was roughly forced back into his handcuffs.

“Do you want him in a Specter Sphere, sir? So he can’t try to run again?” Jason asked.

Operative K held up a hand. “No, I have plans for him when we get back. Don’t wanna sort him out from the others.” He began swiping the scrolls into a bag with protective gloves.

“Anything else, sir?” Another operative said.

“This is all we needed here. Everyone group together so we can go home.”

===

Valerie's skin tingled under her suit as she walked through the sterile halls of the GIW facility. It reminded her of the times she had visited a Mormon friend's church for activities as a kid; logically, she knew she was in no danger, but she felt on edge anyway. Like she was an intruder and something was watching her, waiting to pounce.

The receptionist led her through a maze of frosted indoor windows (then why have them?) and keycarded doors, white tiles and fluorescent lights, the overlapping smells of ectoplasm and ethanol. She was taken behind so many scary "AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY" signs that she wondered whether the GIW trusted her way too much for a vigilante or if they were complete pushovers. It was hard to tell, these days.

By the time she was brought into a clean meeting room with a view of the farms outside town, she had gotten nine low-level pings on her ghost radar.

"Mr. Fayek, here's the Red Huntress."

A person in a collared sweater (notably, not a white one!) with a GIW lanyard was sitting on the conference table in front of an array of scanners and other etco-doohickeys. There were four other employees at the back of the room in varying degrees of business casual wear, but nobody in a suit, and nobody Valerie had been expecting to see. The receptionist was waved out of the room.

"I thought the Fentons were going to be talking to me," Valerie said. Maybe it was impolite to just start speaking before introductions or anything, but sue her for having more confidence behind a mask.

Mr. Fayek smiled. "That was the plan, yes, but they got caught up in something exciting and asked me to fill in. I'm sure you know how they are."

Valerie laughed politely and sat down at the other end of the table.

"Well, I'm Khaled Fayek. I'd like to talk to you about your suit and your fighting style. I'll say, first, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, and I won't have you sign a contract or anything, so you're not bound to the complete truth. I don't expect to learn your identity or anything. This is just friendly business discussion among ghost hunters, working to improve the field together."

How open and personable! If she wanted to, Valerie could almost forget that this was an organization that seemed hell-bent on monitoring the town. They wouldn't take kindly to her ectoplasmic quirks, nor to her hiding them. All she could do was her best.

"And the testing equipment?"

"That is so that, if you'd be comfortable with us getting some readings and examining your technique, we can do so. We won't use any of those without explaining what they do and getting your permission."

Valerie didn't respond. She hoped that made her look aloof and not scared. She felt like she was sort of getting treated like a child, even though she's pretty sure people assumed the Huntress was an adult. This guy was probably just trained to talk like a nurse does, or something.

"So, before we begin, do you want to take a brief tour? Get comfortable with the room where you'd be showing us how you look in action if you're up for it, maybe stop by the break room and grab some coffee?"

Would that give them an opportunity to do something behind her back? …Should she even be worried about that? She really couldn't tell when she was right to be suspicious or when she was just being paranoid anymore. For all she knew, this guy was completely honest, regardless of how the GIW as a whole felt about privacy.

A chance to prepare her answers more might be nice, though. Why not?

"Sure. Lead the way."

Just beyond the pristine little break room, where Valerie grabbed some coffee and then just sort of awkwardly held it since she obviously wasn't going to be taking off her helmet, Mr. Fayek stopped her outside of a metal door.

"Now, in here we've got the observation deck above the dissection room. It can be a little unnerving, especially if you don't like medical things. We can go in there if you want, or we can just move on if you’re not interested."

Oh. Terrifying. When Valerie injured ghosts, it was pretty one-and-done. "I hurt you, you realize you're hurt, you get out of here before I do it again" type of deal. She didn't see the appeal in holding them down, sedating them somehow, and operating on them. She was pretty sure they didn't leave corpses, so you had to do some kind of live vivisection. It would be more like a surgery than an autopsy, but some twisted kind of surgery where you didn't care about the patient's wellbeing. It seemed needlessly disrespectful to the ghost. Like tearing the legs off of spiders.

"Oh. They're doing something in there right now?"

"Yeah! It's really interesting, actually. We recently came across a specimen that we thought was the Phantom at first, but it just looked similar. Things got interesting when we kept it in holding, though. It started to genuinely show needs like a living animal. After a bit, it changed to look just like a human, and bled, and everything."

Oh, God. Dani.

"We've never seen a ghost pull off this kind of detailed mimicry, or shape-shifting, or whatever it is so well! Right now we're investigating via dissection— weird to call it that when the whole thing looks so much like a vivisection, huh? I've heard it's got fully formed organs in there and everything! Really fascinating stuff. I wonder what we could learn from this!"

Valerie couldn't say anything. They just… saw her turn human? And didn't hesitate? It only encouraged them to cut her open? She had to see.

She walked through the door. Several scientists flocked around a glass wall, looking intently at the floor below. When she pushed through them to see the operating theater, there was Dani, open and on display like the pigs in biology class, but her blood was bright red and liquid, and the room didn't smell like formaldehyde. Just ectoplasm. She looked asleep, even with her limbs pinned down with heavy metal cuffs and her naked skin clipped away from her chest. Despite all the gore, she looked profoundly human.

Above her, with bloody gloves and no masks, were Jack and Madeline Fenton.

Valerie didn't know what she was doing when she started taking stock of her surroundings— all Dani's organs seem to still be in her body, there's an unguarded door out of the operating theater, about half of the scientists here are unarmed— but after her sensor map helpfully showed up on her helmet and she felt herself stepping back from the glass, she knew she didn't have a choice.

The launch momentum from her suit's exoskeleton and the extra force from the energy shield that surrounded her head were just barely enough to break through the glass wall. There was shooting before Valerie even stopped feeling shards roll off her back, but she couldn't focus on that. That was for her armor to worry about. In the corner of her eye, she caught a red button on the table labeled RELEASE, and thank everything in existence, when she slammed it, the cuffs retracted.

She struggled to slide her hands under Dani's back while shooting forward on a rocket board, but she got there. She clutched Dani's chest to her own in hopes she would stay intact and pivoted to slam her shoulder into the unguarded door.

Alarms were already going off, but the doors weren't automatically closing or anything like that, thank God. Instead, what looked like automatic guns were emerging from the ceiling and aiming at the girls.

Valerie started flying. Not in the direction she came from, there were so many security guards back there she didn't even want to bother. Maybe if she went further down the corridor, she'd find an emergency exit and slip out with less attention!

Down two more halls and a flight of stairs and with Dani so close to falling out of Valerie's grip, she started to pick up a particularly large source of energy. In her head, she knew that it could be some kind of dangerous reactor or violent ghost, but something in her chest told her to go toward it. She was too scared to question the instinct.

After clipping walls four times, barely making it down five stairwells without slamming into the floor, and blasting forcefully through three locked doors, she found the source of the energy signal. At one end of a massive, empty concrete room was a towering hangar door. At the other end was the biggest ghost portal Valerie had ever seen.

She didn't want to stay and find out what was in that hangar. She readjusted Dani and bolted into the green.

===

An Address to the Executive, Legislative, and Judicial Powers of the United States of America and to the Leadership and Representatives of the Garrison Irving Walker Commission

We, as Ghosts, are reaching out. We had hoped that our refusal to engage with hostility would be sufficient to settle our image in the eyes of the human masses. Clearly, it has not been, and it never was. So now, to the best of our ability, we are speaking to you directly and with clear intentions. Please do not squander our effort.

Ghosts are thinking, reasoning, and feeling beings. We are complex, merciful, and deep like any living thing, and although we interact with your world differently, our sapience is no less. As a culture, we are older than you can imagine and more varied than you can comprehend. At all points in time, we have existed, and we have engaged with human cultures throughout the ages. Our two peoples have long benefitted from staying connected. Some cultures have revered us or befriended us. Many have ignored us. Yours is the first in history to attack us, and we will no longer sit quietly while our people are treated as a plague on your reality.

We request to be given a voice. If we remain silenced, we cannot trust that we will be left alone. We hope that after we say our piece, the persecution of our people will end and other nations will not follow the path of violence you have left. Further conflict is the opposite of what we want, so you must understand that it is with great gravity that we deliver this ultimatum.

If the United States and its contracted private military do not stop attacking our people and their rights, we will have no choice but to go to war.

It will not be a bloody, messy, human war. Ghosts have no need for bombs or trenches. We also understand that not all humans are responsible for the actions of those in power. Many of us have love for parts of humanity and respect for the delicate ecosystem that all life comes together to form on your side of the veil. We will attack only the forces sent to exterminate us, and will cease as soon as they are no longer a threat to us. Human forces will have an unthinkable disadvantage against ours in battle. Many individual ghosts are already stronger than any human, and our numbers are infinite. Victory would be ours.

This is not a declaration of war. We do not wish to destroy you. We don’t want to fight at all. Every breathing person on Earth is evidence of that. But if you continue to kidnap, torture, and mutilate us, we have no choice but to retaliate. 

Representing the Unanimous Body of Entities of the Infinite Realms, High King of the Infinite Realms, Reclaimer from Pariah Dark, Nurturer of the Balance, Phantom

[kawaiikenna]

I posted 808 times in 2022

That's 808 more posts than 2021!

32 posts created (4%)

776 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@stealingyourbones

@rainybyday

@tourettesdog

@ashoutinthedarkness

@im-totally-not-an-alien-2

I tagged 324 of my posts in 2022

#danny phantom - 261 posts

#dp x dc - 215 posts

#danny fenton - 198 posts

#dc - 139 posts

#prev tags - 118 posts

#dc x dp - 118 posts

#batman - 110 posts

#dp - 108 posts

#dc comics - 96 posts

#jason todd - 86 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#this fic doesnt just live in my head rent free its rattling the contents of my head around like a maraca and will not let me rest until i m

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

A thought I cannot get out of my head.

Since the Fenton parents use guns a lot and the kiddos use them plus the Thermoses, they have pretty damn high marksmanship. Danny even more so with the use of his ectoblasts. So anyways, I really just want all the moments where Team Phantom is cornered as a civilian and they whip out guns. Fully under self defense but they just amaze people around them. They can hit all of the non vital spots, are able to make the shots to knock the weapons out of the assailants’ hands, those kinds of things.

Like I just want them to show off their marksmanship. All four of them, Sam, Danny, Jazz, and Tucker, all have concealed carry permits. I just want them to whip out guns and the batfam are not entirely sure what to think about them.

Idk. This sounded way cooler in my head. -_-;;;;

1,804 notes - Posted September 20, 2022

#4

Dick seeing Tim on his phone waiting outside of a store and tries talking to him. Gets ignored but continues talking anyway.

Tim walking up to Dick: Hey I didn’t realize you were coming here too.

Dick stops talking and stares at the other teen. Then looks back to the one he had been talking too.

Dick, in all his vintage meme knowledge: Wait a minute, who are you?

Gothic girl walks out of the store and the teen in question walks away, hand in hand, with her.

Tim: Did you just mistake a random stranger as me? Again Dick?

Dick: I’ve been bamboozled again. You know what? It’s been a long day and I probably haven’t slept in as long as you.

Tim, grinning: I doubt that but ok.

In the distance;

Sam: Did you just get mistaken for a Wayne by one of the Wayne kids? Again? It’s been only a week since we came to Gotham.

Danny: You know what? I stopped questioning it after two failed kidnappings, five reporters trying to talk to me, and at least another dozen people trying to get my autograph. At least there aren’t any ghost attacks here.

Sam: Amen to that.

~~~

A continuation of this post. Thanx for the support everyone!! X3

2,037 notes - Posted October 13, 2022

#3

Me in the shower: imagine if Danny just went and offered Jason a ecto friendly snack and was like;

Danny: You’re not you when you’re hungry.

With Jason just being wtf? Where did this child spawn from???

Danny: Please just eat the snack. You’re making me hungry just from looking at you.

Jason: *accepts the snack but is very concerned and confused.*

Based on that one head cannon/post about how pit rage is caused by hunger.

2,256 notes - Posted September 1, 2022

#2

Adding to this post.

Danny now has several different recipes that he regularly cooks for Jason. He also stops by at least once a week to drop off food and snacks. And at this point the eldritch teen king has kinda just adopted the vigilante. There are times where Jason ends up forgetting to eat so he sends a text to Danny basically ordering food/snacks.

Batfam chilling on a roof. Jason on his phone texting Danny.

Jason: I forgot to eat again, could you bring me some of those pastry puffs?

Danny: Yeah sure, be there soon.

One of the batfam: Who you texting?

Jason, not looking up from his phone: Ordering Grubhub. Should be here soon.

-portal suddenly rips open next to Jason. Danny pokes his head through and hands Jay a paper bag-

Danny: Here’s the puffs, I also packed some normal foods cause I know you didn’t bring anything with you.

Jason, pulling out a puff and eating it whole, eyes glow a bit from the ectoplasm intake: Thanx.

-Danny goes back into the portal and it closes. Batfam is extremely confused at the exchange and is completely baffled at what just happened. Jason just shrugs and continues to eat his ecto-infused pastry puffs-

2,432 notes - Posted September 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Bat kids all going to the mall and agree to meet back up later.

Dick gets to their meeting spot and sees Tim on his phone: *chatters on about random things he saw in the stores*

Other bat kids joining. Casual civilian conversations start up. They’re just waiting on Steph.

Steph walks up with a black haired blue eyed teen: Hey guys sorry we’re late. Timmers here just had to go into the pawn shop to look at the antique cameras.

Everyone staring at Tim and then looking back to the other kid, who’s still on his phone. Then looking back at Tim. Before anyone can say anything;

Sam yelling from the other side of the food court: Danny!

Danny looks up and pulls his headphones out: Yeah?! *notices the group surrounding him* Uhh, hi?

Much confusion but Danny still just gets up and walks away.

Tucker: Dude! Why were you hanging out with the Wayne’s?

Danny, continuing to walk away: How the hell am I supposed to know?

Batfam: *confused noises*

3,206 notes - Posted October 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ashiemochi]

aphrotitty - lsk|m

✠ Aphrotitty ↳ Don't do anything stupid ↳↳ does something stupid

➶ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ➶ genre: fluff, a slice of life, angst, gore at some point, smut/suggestive themes ➶ Overall word count: hella

✠Playlist -

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters -this is set after the whole debacle with Jason and his terror fetish-

CONTENT WARNINGS: ☢ - gore/zombie stuff/mentions of blood/guns/you get the gist- ♰ - smut/just filth

AN: it's kind of a slowburn with shit load of build-up, imma try to upload as much as I can - anws, this is purely self-indulgent, but feel free to imagine Y/N or sumn. hope you enjoy this stubborn fixation (hitting 4 months v soon) istg if leon s Kennedy from infinite darkness does not smack me right fucking now- I also stole some dialogue from Damnation and Resident Evil 6 for shits and giggles and got inspired by other fanfics<3

✠CHAPTERS

I. new girl ft mint (249)

II. red popsicle (532)

III. the neighbourhood's lady (1,278)

IV. charcoal (938)

V. you've got mail! (431)

VI. painting mint ft a half-naked sexy man (862)

VII. jealousy, jealousy (470)

VIII. counting freckles (1,100)

IX. appeeling bread (366)

X. white is a boring colour (612)

XI. new (toxic) man (1,920)

XII. painting mint ft a fully clothed sexy man: the sequel (1,795)

XIII. typical rich greedy people (712)

XIV. them (1,061)

XV. fuck, burnt my tongue (315)

XVI. trick or treat! (1,194)

XVII. all cats are females (2,551)

XVIII. cabernet sauvignon (5,114)

XIX. now look what you've done (1,504)

XX. lady in gucci (995)

XXI. the type of girl she is (1,612)

XXII. echo lake picnic (3,595)

XXIII. good catch! (2,437)

XXIV. eye-bleeding cyan (3,524)

XXV. what's yesterday? (3,271) ↳ what is this; some sort of la-la land? (3,692)

XXVI. introducing Patrick (2,681) ↳ ever heard of greenlife? (3,959)

XXVII. good work! now here's some trauma (1,048)

XXVIII. the classic 'i-miss-you' (3,183) ↳ the Matthew (2,914) ↳↳ the oh-god-why-am-i-here (3,861) ↳↳↳ the unkissed kiss (3,243)

XXIX. can i interest you in a little conspiracy theory? (4,604)

XXX. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- (3,299)

XXXI. strawberry poptart with matilda (3,755) ↳ very (not) cute (3,028)

XXXII. black Ducati XDiavel (5,517) ↳ blanket kick (1,827)

XXXIII. the infamous family doctor (3,357) ↳ dramatic bitch (591)

XXXIV. midodrine (3,315)

XXXV. move you fat bitch (1,769)

XXXVI. second chance (1,383)

XXXVII. little elf in the making (4,160)

XXXVIII. hallucinating eggnogs (3,445) ↳ you ever seen a ghost? (1,921)

XXXIX. panic at the disco w/o the disco (4,516) ↳ spare affection, please (1,834)

XL. get in loser, we're going shopping (5,031)

XLI. drooling over leather jacket leon ft new year's eve (5,199)

XLII. 'cause it's the thriller~ thriller night~ (5,031) ☢

XLIII. you better watch out, you better watch out, yOU BETTER WATCH OUT- (2,551) ☢

XLIV. leon? like the zodiac sign leo? (3,328) ☢

XLV. george the friendly chimpanzee (4,749) ☢

XLVI. that's suspicious,,, that's weird,,, (4,330) ☢

XLVII. Mr X gon give it to ya (3,494) ☢

XLVIII. when houseplants fight back also screw the Romans (4,609) ☢

49. this might hurt a little (3,585) ☢

50. project pansy (4,039) ☢

51. i spy with my little blue eye 425 freckles (4,718) ☢

52. back in raccoon city (5,390) ☢

53. frederic knows best (4,416) ☢

54. the moment the universe waited for (4,364) ☢

55. i met a superhero (3,862) ☢

56. i lost him, i want him back (4,389) ☢

57. he did things to me (5,377) ↳ that no one else could (1,299) ☢ (minor warning)

58. damn, i miss that (5,593) ☢

59. give you what you want (3,360) ♰ ↳ 'cause your love is all i need (7,146) ♰

60. hey sexy (7,235)

[ragingbookdragon]

Don't Bleed Me Then Push Me Away

Kyle Rayner x Batbrother One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: Based off this ask about Batbro being a Lantern! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

He burst through the door leading out to the roof, one arm wrapped around the man’s back, the other slamming the door shut. Huffing, he set him against one of the overhead vents before hurrying back to the door, yanking something from his belt. He shoved it against the door frame, just at face height and clicked a button, watching a red-light flicker on.

Sprinting back over, he knelt in front of the man who was moaning lowly, pawing at his side; he grabbed the hand. “Kyle, babe, don’t.”

“It hurts,” he moaned, dropping his head; he tugged the jacket away from his side, eyes widening at the crimson blooming larger and larger. “Oh God, I’m gonna bleed out.” He looked up, meeting his eyes. “(Y/N), I’m bleeding out.”

(Y/N) shook his head. “You’re gonna be okay.” Pressing a finger to his ear, he shoved the other against Kyle’s side. “Black Ops to Batman, come in.”

I read you, Black Ops. What’s your status?

“Not good. Green Lantern’s down and I’m not looking too hot either.” A blast sounded from below, on one of the floors beneath them. “We’ve got incoming enemies from the lower floors.” (Y/N) craned his neck, peeking over the side of the building before ducking again. “Tanks are in the courtyard.”

I’m sending the Batplane to your position.

“Negative Batman, anti-aircraft missiles were spotted earlier.” He breathed heavily, mind working in overdrive as he tried to think of a plan, but nothing was coming to him. Kyle’s blood was warm underneath his fingers and with how wounded the Lantern was, not even his ring could heal his injury.

—ack Ops. Black Ops. (Y/N)!

He shook himself from his stupor. “I’m here.”

I’m sending the Batplane.

“You can’t!” he yelled. “It’ll get shot down!”

I’m willing to take that chance if I get you and Kyle out.

“Dad I—” another blast sounded, this time from the rooftop door and he spun, listening to the screams of the men who’d taken a C4 charge straight to the face. (Y/N) yanked out his side arm, dropping the few who managed to survive and come out. He pulled the trigger one more time but all it did was click. Empty. He started hyperventilating, unable to decide if Kyle needed his attention more or if he should worry about getting them to safety.

But where could he take them? They were on the rooftop surrounded by tanks and soldiers. There was nowhere to run. They were at the end of the line.

(Y/N) looked back at Kyle. Sweat dripped down his face, his black hair clinging to his forehead; he looked clammy and ready to pass out. He glanced down at their hands pressed together, Kyle’s atop (Y/N)’s, and his eyes widened. The power ring.

He grabbed Kyle’s hand. “Kyle, gimme your ring.”

“What?” the Lantern moaned weakly. “My ring?”

(Y/N) nodded, slipping it off; he put his hand to his mouth, yanking the strap with his teeth before biting the tip of the middle finger, tugging it off. He slipped the ring on his finger and waited. He swallowed thickly, muttering, “Come on. Come on. Come on.”

“(Y/N),” Kyle whispered, and he looked at his lover. “It’s not working.”

“It has to,” he retorted, tears stinging the corner of his eyes. “I don’t wanna die here.” He leaned forward, one hand coming up to clasp the side of Kyle’s neck, his thumb brushing his cheek as he pressed his forehead to the man’s. “I don’t want us to die here.”

Kyle swallowed, a ghost of a grin on his lips. “I love you, (Y/N).”

He shook his head. “No. Don’t say that now.”

“I don’t know if we’ll get another chance,” he countered, nosing the soldier. “If we die here, then I want you to know that I love you.”

(Y/N)’s jaw tightened. “We’re not dying. Not now. Not today.” A wave of power surged through him, crashing against his soul like a tidal wave. “I refuse to give in. I won’t.” he shut his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Kyle’s skin against his own. “I’ll get us to the other side.”

A flash of green light burst across the sky, followed by an other worldly voice. (Y/N) Wayne of Earth. You have the ability to protect the ones you care for without fear. Welcome to The Green Lantern Corps.

He opened his eyes, the suit of green flooding his vision; a breathless laugh passed his lips and he gazed at Kyle. “I told you.”

Kyle snorted pitifully. “Yeah, yeah.”

(Y/N) grinned. “How do I work this thing?”

“Anything you can think of. If you can will it, it’ll come to life.”

He stood, looking down at the soldiers in the distance. “Any qualms against killing?”

Kyle shook his head. “Rules have been rewritten. Lethal force against enemies of the Green Lanterns has been authorized.” He gasped, leaning down to the ground and (Y/N) held out his arms.

“You need medical attention.”

“I’ll be fine,” he wheezed, shaking his head. “Go.”

(Y/N) knelt. “I’m not taking any chances.” He looked around. “I know who to call.”

“Who?”

He leaned forward, pulling Kyle into his arms. “Try not to move.” (Y/N) stood to his feet, eyes directed to the sky as he shouted, “Supergirl!”

A rush of wind gusted over them, almost knocking him off his feet and he looked over, seeing her red cape billowing above them. “(Y/N)?” she questioned. “You’re a Green Lantern?”

“For the moment,” he answered, holding Kyle up. “I need you to get Kyle to the Batcave back in Gotham City. Now.”

She glanced at the wounded man. “Oh my God, what happened?”

“Mission gone bad,” (Y/N) said. “Kara, please. Hurry.”

Kara nodded, lowering down to take Kyle from (Y/N); he grasped at (Y/N)’s shoulders. “I’m not leaving you.”

He shook his head. “You need to get to a hospital, or you’ll die.” He smiled. “I can take care of this.” (Y/N) met Kara’s gaze. “Go.”

She took off, ignoring how Kyle screamed at her to take him back.

(Y/N) flew to the ledge, standing atop it, and a gun went off; he raised a hand, imagining an aegis and sparks flew when the bullet ricochet off the bright green shield. He felt a renewed sense of strength and took a single step off the ledge, raising his hands high above his head; and the soldiers along the ground all gaped in terror as thousands of glowing arrows appeared in the sky, all the sudden coming down in a fury of green hellfire.

***

Kyle came to with wide eyes, sitting straight up on the med bay bed, though it proved to be a terrible decision as pain swelled through his side and ebbed outwards every which way. He gripped his abdomen, hissing with displeasure.

“Hey, take it easy,” someone commanded, pressing a hand to his shoulder and he cocked his head up, Jason coming into focus beside him.

“(Y/N),” he blurted out. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

Jason shook his head. “He hasn’t come back yet.” Kyle’s face dropped and Jason was quick to reassure, “But he didn’t send the code-word, so we know he isn’t dead yet.”

“What?”

“We’ve got a code-word we’re only allowed to use if we know for certain we’re not going to make it.” Jason leveled Kyle with a firm stare. “(Y/N)’s still out there somewhere.”

Kyle shoved his arm off. “Then I need to be up helping.”

“With what? He’s got your ring.” Jason put his hand back on the other’s shoulder and this time pushed him back on the bed. “You just lay right here and recover. We’ll do everything.”

“I can’t just lie here, Jay,” he retorted, though he made no move to get up. “I need to help you.”

“(Y/N) would want you to rest,” Jason shot back, and Kyle scowled.

“Screw you for using him against me.”

He snickered. “I’m just saying what you know you should be doing.” Jason reached over, pressing a button, and Kyle felt the world slow down, his vision growing dark as sleep washed over him. “There you go. Let the morphine lull you back to sleep.”

“Gonna…kick your…ass,” Kyle slurred before his head dropped down, eyes slipping shut as his consciousness faded, Jason’s amused hum echoing in his ears.

***

Kyle liked to be touched. He found physical measures of affection just as important as verbal ones. And (Y/N) liked to touch. A hand on a thigh, a kiss on a temple, a finger looped through a belt-loop, a toe brushing an ankle, digits carding through hair; he was content to simply be in contact. His favorite way was to touch was when he and Kyle were laying in bed, the latter’s back pressed to (Y/N)’s chest, one of the soldier’s arms wrapped around the Lantern’s waist, the other arm under Kyle’s head, folded back so he could brush through his lover’s hair.

It was uniquely intimate and sweet at the same time, and (Y/N) would simply lie there, breathing in the scent of Kyle’s minty shampoo, brushing the dark strands until they felt like silk beneath his fingers. And Kyle would hum contently like a cat, grunting if (Y/N) stopped. On the rare cases that he did, the Lantern would pout like a child and turn over in (Y/N)’s arms, burying his face in the soldier’s throat, nose brushing his lover’s Adam’s apple, breath warm against his skin. (Y/N) would chuckle, the vibrations rumbling through Kyle as the soldier’s arms twisted, cocooning the Lantern to his chest, legs tangling like ribbon.

It’s the feeling that Kyle had at the very moment, and he blinked blearily, inhaling deeply as he forced his mind to rise above the sleep clouding his brain. The comforting scent of cedarwood and gun metal wafted up his nose, a hint of tobacco hidden within. Warmth spread across his body, hot air puffing against his temple, as he finally felt the pressure over the left side of his body.

He opened his eyes, seeing a familiar set of dog tags and he tried to jerk up when someone’s hand rested on his chest, a comforting deep voice murmuring, “Easy, babe.”

Tears stung Kyle’s eyes and he fumbled for the hand over his heart, clenching the fingers through his own as he whispered, “Fuck you.”

“Hmm,” (Y/N) chuckled lowly. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“You sent me away,” he hissed, barely restraining the tears. “I thought you were going to die.”

“Not yet.” He retorted, kissing Kyle’s temple. “Go back to sleep.”

“No. I’m mad.”

“Mmm, no, you’re actually relived I’m back alive and spooning you on a crappy med bay bed.”

“Don’t try to change my mind,” Kyle shot back, trying to wiggle, but (Y/N) had him in a tight grip. “I want to yell at you.”

(Y/N) sighed and pulled away, gazing at the Lantern; Kyle opened his mouth to start berating him and he merely leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lover’s lips. Kyle’s eyes went wide as he made a noise of complaint, but it quickly faded as heat flooded his system.

They pulled away and (Y/N) patted his cheek. “You can yell at me in the morning. Go to sleep.”

Kyle glared at him, though he let his head fall to (Y/N)’s shoulder. “I’m going to kick you in the crotch.”

“Yep.”

“And yell at you for leaving me.”

“Uh huh.”

“Mock me at your own peril, Wayne. I’ll fight you.”

“Ooo, I’m so scared of the green space ranger with fancy boots.”

“You are a major douche.”

(Y/N) nuzzled his head. “I know. You love me though.”

Kyle swallowed the lump in his throat, and he turned, burying his face in (Y/N)’s throat as he whispered, “Don’t ever send me away from you like that ever again.”

He smiled, carding his hand through the Lantern’s hair. “Never again.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.” (Y/N) kissed Kyle’s head. “Go to sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

[artxyra]

What if Damian and the miraculous class are friends and they have movie nights, but since Damian is in Gotham he sneaks out of the manor and portal via Max & Kalki to participate. The Fam get suspicious and try to figure out where Damian is going every week. When they find out he goes to Paris they try to follow him but the portal closes and they use the tubes instead. They end up crashing in on them watching a horror movie which freaks the class out. Insert yelling and things being thrown.

To: Demon From: Angel

Are we still on for movie night?

To: Angel From: Demon

Yes. Just need to get away from the family.

To: Demon From: Angel

😀

Marinette looks over smiling from her phone. Today is a good day. There were no akuma that needed Ladybug’s attention, nor had she broken up a fight between Max and Kim about the latest game. So yes, she was ecstatic to know this is how her day is going.

“Hey Mars, is Damian coming tonight?” Adrien asks seating next to her playing with a strand of his hair. Ever since he came out to her, their relationship has blossomed beyond a crush to a blooming brother-sister relationship. That and Luka were more than willing to take on the blonde without a second thought. She kind of feels bad for Juleka having to see Adrien on a near-daily basis and with her brother no doubt.

“Yup,” Marinette continues to smile, “I just received word that he’s good to go. All we need is for Kaalki and Max to open up a portal at the designated time.”

“Sweet, I hear that Kim was the one picking out this week’s movie. I hope it’s nothing horror-related.” Adrien pouts causing Marinette to laugh that the poor kitty’s face.

“I’m sure it’s nothing too crazy.” Marinette hopes that it was something simple to follow and an action pack rather than horror. She may love horror games but kwami be damn if she watches a horror movie in the dark that wasn’t comedic.

“It looks like break is almost over, we’ll continue you this later.” Adrien sends Marinette a comforting smile before jumping down into his assigned seat next to Nino. Alya and Nino just walked in holding hands.

“Hey, lovebirds, who’s ready for a night full of fun?” Alya greets the two causing them to roll their eyes at the nickname that no longer pertains to them.

“Hey Als, I should be asking you that instead.” Marinette lifts an eyebrow that accompanies her smirk. Nino and Alya’s faces turn red and they side glance each other. Marinette and Adrien laugh at the couple.

“After class, I’ll be giving a quick speech regarding tonight’s plans,” Marinette states pulling out her classwork and books for class. They all nod in understanding. Just then the rest of the class filed in with matching smiles and asking pertaining to tonight’s activities.

To: Angel From: Demon

Save me from the idiots that I call my brothers?

To: Demon From: Angel

Can’t love, I’m sure it not that bad.

To: Angel From: Demon

For some idiotic reason, they are watching me like a hawk today. I’m currently in the bathroom with the doors locked listening to them bicker outside.

To: Demon From: Angel

Yikes 😬. I’m sure it will die down before you’re required to leave.

To: Angel From: Demon

I doubt that.

To: Demon From: Angel

About that, why did we move our weekly movie night from Saturday to Friday?

To: Angel From: Demon

It’s a half-day at school.

Shit. Talk to you later.

Marinette places her phone down and slowly turns her attention to Mme. Bustier. The red-haired teacher tried to keep her students engaged with the content, but she was losing them faster than on average. Marinette turns to her classmates. Alix and Kim were trying to out strength each other, Juleka and Rose was trying to pay attention but the drooping in Rose’s eyes say otherwise, Sabrina and Chloe—well doing what they usually do—living in their own bubble, Nathaniel was sketching something down in his notebook while Max was pretending to take notes as Markov does it for him. Finally, Mylene and Ivan were also in their own world.

Hours seemed to past in Marinette’s mind before Mme. Bustier concluded today’s lesson. She was so caught up in watching the time that she didn’t realize that was sketching an outfit in her own notebook. Whoops.

“Marinette is there something you would like to add?” Mme. Bustier prompts sending the class’s designated designer a smile.

“Yes,” Marinette gets up from her seat and walks down to the podium. “Tonight is our weekly movie night instead of tomorrow. Do you remember what to bring? If not, please message me before the event. Remember that we are having this event at Chloe’s family’s hotel as it a makeshift theatre room.”

“Daddy says we can have the popcorn maker also.” Chloe interrupts. The class cheers at the thought of the infamous popcorn maker that was usually locked behind the hotel kitchen doors.

“Thank you, Bee, for that tidbit. Now, Max, you are to arrive at the bakery no later than six o’clock. The demon is having a half-day today and I’m ninety-nine percent sure that he’ll want to be here no later than that. Everyone else, you are free to do.” With that and a pretend gavel, Marinette dismisses the class to their next class for the day. 

For Damian, being at school felt like a blessing even if it was a half-day. His brothers have been hounding him all morning. It’s like they are looking for something that isn’t there. Damian’s emotions? Yeah right, they all know he only shows emotions to his beloved animals or animals in general. Damian had to double, triple check the security on his phones because who knows what Drake would find if he had access inside it.

For over six months, he had been going to Paris for movie nights with his beloved and her classmates. At first, he had done it through the zeta tubes but after gaining their trust just enough to be in on the Miraculous Team of Paris, his trips became a lot more frequent. He would make up an excuse about going to a classmate, or Jon’s, house for the night, or to work on a school project. He had gotten away with it for a while, but Tim was the first to notice the lie.

Tim and Conner were having their usually meet up when the Damian had told his family that he was spending time at Jon’s, something that was no unusual. All was fine and dandy until Jon came home with a Damian Wayne. Tim, well it was mainly Dick, had grilled into the young hero about Damian’s whereabouts. Jon either lied or literally had no idea. Which prompted the Batbros to start the search on Damian's weekly disappearance.

Everyone took the day off to “spend time” with Damian. They wanted to trap the teen inside the manor and watch his every movement. Like that isn’t an invasion of privacy or trust.

Alfred brought Damian to the manor around noon. This gives them enough time to hide any open-source of weaponry they could find or items that Damian could use against them in battle. That was a lot of items on the list. Dick inquired for Bruce to hold off on the tracking device as a last resort. He wanted to start everything out with a discussion, but Jason laughs that idea out the window as he cleans his guns.

“The young master is residing in his bedroom,” Alfred speaks walking down into the Batcave.

The Wayne family knew this was it.

To: Angel From: Demon

I’m ready.

To: Demon From: Angel

ETA in 5

Damian smirks at his phone. He loves his girlfriend and how quickly she can manage an entire group of classmates and plan a weekly movie night event.

He had packed his belonging that he usually brings with him when he does to Paris. Which isn’t much.

Four minutes.

Damian thought his ears were playing tricks on him, but they weren’t. He could hear the stampede of footsteps that were no doubt from his family members aside from Alfred. Alfred’s footsteps are like a ghost, you never hear them.

Three minutes.

“Hey little D, since you had a half-day today, why don’t you spend it with us,” Grayson asks the second his bedroom door swings open. Alfred the cat sends a glare to his owner’s family.

“Yeah, Demon spawn, we all took the day off to spend time with you,” Jason adds gas to the fire that was already burning intensely.

“Damian…” Not his father too.

Two minutes.

Damian doesn’t say a word. His eyes bounce from one person to the next and repeat. He didn’t know who to answer them. “Tt.” Was the only word? Sound? That had escaped his lips.

“You need to leave like now.” Damian refuses to have his family find out the very secret he had kept hidden for so long. His quick need for them leaving only pushes them to stay. Worried about various reasons from teen problems to joining the League of Assassins again. They didn’t want to take any chances.

One minute.

Damian could sense the user of the horse kwami becoming active. Soon a blue swirling portal opens up behind Damian. Damian looks at his family and side glances at the portal. The portal wins. The family of vigilantes runs to the portal only for it to close.

“Am I hallucinating or did that just happen?” Tim asks wiping the sleep away from his eyes.

“No, replacement, that really just happened.” Jason states. Tim nods in understanding.

“I’ll do track him down.” Dick sulks at the thought that Bruce was right.

It didn’t take long for the results to come in.

“Uh…so how the hell is the Demon in Paris, France of all places?” Jason shouts from behind his older brother and Bruce.

“The swirling portal thingy?” Tim states the obvious, but it sounded more like a question as he sits down and drinks a cup of coffee.

“Boys we’re going to Paris.”  Bruce states over his sons. From afar, Alfred sighs and goes to prepare the zeta tubes with the destination in mind.

“Uh, civvies or uniform?” Dick asks as they all start to make their way to the zeta tube. This was one of those questions that they linger on for a hot minute.

Before they knew it, Damian had gained an hour over his family.

“It doesn’t matter, we need to know where the little demon has been hiding all this time.” Jason screeches talking over to the zeta tube and teleporting to the location.

Bruce turns to the remainder of his sons who shrugged and follow suit.

Entering Paris, they were further from Damian’s location than anticipated. They follow the tracker with some interruptions. Dick wanted to buy something for Kori, Jason wanted food and Tim needed for coffee. After all that was done, they officially made it to the supposed location of Damian’s whereabouts.

“Why would the little demon at a hotel?”

“Hum, this coffee is really good,” Tim says before taking another sip.

“Boys, focus on the mission.”

“I am focus, Bruce.”

“I didn’t say you were, Dick.”

“Touché.” Dick rubs the back of his arm.  

They enter Le Grand Paris with tensions high and were surprised by how calm and relax the employees were. Jason swears this was just a hoax and they were torturing Damian behind one of these doors. An employee asks them if they are in need of anything. Bruce states that they were looking for his son.

“Is he friends with Chloe and her classmates?” The employee asks.

“Who?” Dick and Bruce ask simultaneously. Jason had dragged Tim off somewhere to look at some things.

The employee eyes the family skeptically.

“Well if he’s not friends with Mlle. Bourgeois, then I suggest heading to the police department and report a missing child.” The employee states before walking away. Bruce sighs and pulls out the tracking device. Damian is so close to them.

“We’re going to find him, right?”

“And drag the brat back to Gotham?”

Bruce in the direction that would be location, he gestures for his children to follow.

Damian was having a blast. In his arms, Marinette sat on his arm clinging to his shirt cursing Kim’s name throughout the film. Kim had chosen a horror movie for tonight’s showing and by kwami it was fantastic. There was no comedic relief, actual horror storytelling leaving the class on the edge of their seats.

Adrien was curled next to Marinette in Luka’s arms. He was also clinging to a body, a certain musician as if he was a frightened kitten.

Just as the MC was about to open the door to the attic, a series of figures jump from the ceiling. Screams in real-life match those within the movie. Popcorn, empty cartons of candy, soda drinks are thrown at the figures. A string of curses follows not long after that.

“Damian, tell your friends to stop.” He knows that voice from anywhere, it was Grayson’s voice. Marinette slides herself off himself.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He screeches in English. Most of the class didn’t have a clue what was being said.

“We wanted to see where you were?”

“We thought you were kidnapped?”

“I just came for the scenery.”

Damian’s eyes twitch.

“That’s nice and all, but can you move? We’re trying to watch a movie here and you’re ruining it.” Chloe stands up demanding the bat-family to move. They all look to one another before subtly moving away from the screen.

Damian places a quick kiss on Marinette’s cheek and guides his family out of the room. He was not happy that they came in ruining his night with Marinette. Now he has to make up for it with something romantic, not that he’ll do it anyway.

“What made you believe that I was kidnapped?” He asks, the second they were out of the room.

“The portal thingy.”

“You not answering any of our questions.”

Damian breathes through his nose. “You’re all idiots.”

“Well movie night is a bust, but we all agree to stay here to continue rather than going home.” Marinette walks into the hall after a moment of them talking—well it was more of a screaming match between Bruce and Damian with some input from Dick. “Will your family be fine without you for a couple more hours?”

“Habibti, these dunces are my family,” Damian states gesturing to his family,

Marinette nods, “Well then, hello, and can we keep Damian for the night?”

Damian walks over to Marinette and wraps his arms around her. “I’ll return from before it’s nightfall in Gotham, father.”

“Uh, sure. Boys lets go.” Bruce accepts the came and walks down the hall. Before either of the brothers could pester Damian about this newfound relationship, Bruce gave them all the bat-glare and demanded that they follow.

“You know you’re going to get pestered, right.” Marinette laughs.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Come on, we have a movie to finish.”

With that, Damian takes Marinette’s hand and walks back into the room.  

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[pricetagofficial]

Ghost -Part Twenty-Four

Warnings: Language, angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, light sexual content, fluff

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.6K

Tag list: @kishony-the-geek @unknowntoanyone​ @subtleappreciation​ @catxsnow​ @river-bottom-nightmare​ @screennamealreadyused​ @bikoncon​ @woahjaybird​ @offendedfishnoises​ @littleredwing89​ @arestorationofbalance​ @lostoctaviaaugusta​

A/N: I did something here and you’re welcome.

Tim held tight to Rory's arm as he led her down the hall towards the stairs that led down to the event, they followed the sounds of laughter and ballroom music.

"So what is our story exactly?" he asked, as they slowly descended the stairs, keeping an eye on the other attendees they passed.

"The cover my informant gave us is that we're newlyweds and decided to spend our honeymoon here in Paris. I am an old associate of hers, and it's how she managed to rope me into attending and I wanted to show off my husband."

That one sentence alone made Rory's and Tim's heads spin. Neither of them had thought that much about marriage outside of the simple joke here and there, but it was present in Tim's mind more and more with each passing day.

He had decided that he wanted to ask her to marry him but would wait until they both were ready for that. Hearing the story this informant of hers created only made him feel worse about it than he already did.

Clearing his throat, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at her. "Am I allowed to know our names, or are you going to make me guess?" he asked with an amused tone.

"We are James and Dinah King, and we are just enjoying our honeymoon," she responded. "That can't be too hard to pull off right?"

"As long as you don't punch me for making it look like we are married, then no it should not." Tim chuckled and helped her down another flight of stairs.

Tim couldn't keep his eyes off her, Rory looked stunning in her dress. As she walked a train of laced fabric followed behind her as her eyes scanned the room for every bit of information she could get. They had gotten to the bottom floor when someone tapped them on the shoulder.

"Miss Queen, ma dame requests to see you before you enter the event." a voice said. Rory turned to look and saw that it was Beau who greeted her with a smile and gave Tim a polite nod. "If you would kindly follow me, I shall lead you to her."

Rory gave Beau a nod and followed him down the hall, dragging Tim with her. The click of her heels sounded against the marble floor ar Beau led them to the last door and opened it for them. Upon entering, Tim and Rory were greeted with a dark room filled with bodyguards and a lone figure sitting in the chair with her back to them.

"It's been a long time amore, I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me." the woman in the chair said.

Tim looked at Rory and saw the amused look on her face. There was something about this woman that seemed familiar even though he was sure he had never met her before in his life. It was only when she swiveled around in her chair to face them did it all click in Tim's head.

He should have put the pieces together sooner.

Alexis Devereux gave them a grin as she rested her head on her hands. Like her note had said, she wore a slim-fitting white dress that had black floral designs all around the hem and up the side.

"How could I forget about you, Alexis? You won't let me." Rory grinned.

Tim watched as Rory walked closer, Alexis' gaze not leaving her for a second. The first time he had become aware of this woman was when Rory had a mission with Jason here in Paris to send her to jail. Well, it seemed that she had gotten out.

"Pardon my manners, but I'd love to be introduced to the man you ditched me for." Alexis grinned, glancing in Tim's direction who only stood there silently.

"Be nice." Rory scolded. "This is Tim, an old friend of mine."

The look Alexis gave her did not go unnoticed by Tim. There was something more to this that Rory wasn't telling him, and it wasn't just their friendship. They seemed to be way too close to be considered just friends.

The longer he thought on it, the more apparent it became to him.

Rory had been back in Paris since they broke up and he knew exactly what, or who she was doing.

"This is TImothy? Well, I must admit that he is much cuter in person than you described to me, Minette. But again, neither of us were doing much talking now were we?" she grinned.

Rory felt the heat rise in her face at her insinuation. Alexis was right, the last time Rory had seen her neither of them did much talking. They were more occupied in the bodies of the other person to really have a good conversation outside of never letting it happen again.

Tim crossed his arms and gave her a look. "You've got to be kidding me Rory, Alexis too?" he asked.

"Hey!" she snapped. "It was a one-time thing okay?"

Alexis pushed her chair back as she got to her feet. "I seem to recall it happening more than once amore," she said tilting Rory's head to look up at her. "It wouldn't be fair to lie to him now would it?"

Rory's face was a mixture of murder and embarrassment. This wasn't how she planned on Tim finding out that she had slept with Alexis. "Fine it was a two, three-time thing," she said grabbing her wrist and pulling Alexis' hand off her face.

"Three? Minette, darling we spent a whole weekend together. Three times is severely understating it." Alexis grinned, watching Rory fidget under her gaze as Tim focused on not getting upset.

He had to constantly remind himself that Rory was not his, he could protect her but he had no right to tell her what to do with her sex life. But that did not mean that he had to like it.

"I would appreciate it if you kept your hands off my wife for the evening," he said sternly.

Alexis and Rory both stopped and stared at him as several of the guards grabbed a hold of their guns in anticipation that he would try and do something.

"It's a bad look to ruin the cover story you created for us no? Real husband or not, I am here to make sure that no one lays a hand on her that Rory does not want there," he said. "And by the looks of it, she does not want you touching her."

Rory had to bite back the laugh that wanted to slip from her lips as she made her way back towards Tim. She did not mind Alexis' advancement, but sometimes she came off a little bit much. Standing next to him, Rory leaned into his side as he carefully wrapped an arm around her waist protectively.

He could sense just how uncomfortable she was, even if it was just from simple embarrassment. They both were meant to be on their a-game during the ball and could not risk Rory being distracted.

"We were summoned in here for a reason I presume, I'd like to get on with it."

Alexis eyed him and the way he held tightly to Rory. She was told that Rory had broken it off with her lover, but even an idiot could spot the way they clung to each other even if it was under the false pretense of marriage.

Waving the guards to relax, Alexis pulled out a piece of paper. "The bargaining chip you need is in there. No one knows of it but me so the secret will not get out. From what you have told me about this man, he is not one to be trusted yet you trust him." she handed the paper to Rory who unfolded it and took a glance at what it was.

Tim couldn't believe what it was that he was looking at. Rory hadn't been very forthcoming with the information she had on Malcolm, but she was confident that it would guarantee her what she wanted from him. He couldn't deny that this would get a response out of himself, but he wasn't sure if he would ever get to this point.

The paper was a picture of Malcolm, they could see his face clear as day and it seemed that he was making a deal with someone. Only, this person's face was hidden from view. In fact, neither Tim nor Rory could tell a single thing about this person. The only thing they could tell was the fact that Malcolm wanted it to be kept secret. That was to be their bargaining chip for the night.

"We really should head into the party before we really are late. Come on Tim." Rory said stuffing the paper into the pocket of his suit jacket and drug him to the door.

"Not so fast, I would like a word alone with you amore. Timothy can wait outside for us to finish up." Alexis said, holding her hand up. On queue, several guards grabbed Tim by the arm and attempted to pull him from Rory. On instinct, Tim tightened his hold around her waist and glared.

"I'm not going anywhere without her unless she says so." he snapped.

Rory looked up at him. "I'll be okay Tim, I promise. It'll only be a few minutes." she smiled softly.

The smile she gave him assured Tim, but only slightly. He still worried about her, there was a price on Rory's head and one of the people given the contract was in the very same building. If something happened to Rory under his watch, he would never forgive himself.

Slowly, he removed his hand from her waist and resisted the urge to cup her cheek. He was getting too wrapped up in the pretense of their cover. If he wasn't careful, he could let slip just how he really felt about her and now was not the time for it.

With a nod, the guards walked him out and shut the door leaving Rory and Alexis alone in the room.

"You know, he really is a fine man. Of course, you would know that already amore. Now that I have you all to myself, we have some unfinished business to attend to." she grinned picking up two glasses filled with what Rory assumed to be whiskey before handing it over.

Carefully taking it in her hand, Rory gave it a quick whiff and sure enough, it was whiskey. She may trust Alexis to a degree, but there was a point where that line ended. Alexis was still a criminal, a drug queen. Rory had thought that she had put her away for good all those years ago, but it seemed that she managed a get-out-of-jail-free card and was using it to get her empire back under her feet.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, watching as Alexis took the first sip before allowing herself to take one.

"I want from you what I've always wanted, to see my enemies crumble beneath me," she said watching Rory with an intense gaze. "I want their heads on silver platters and from what your new occupation is, you are just the person to hire."

Rory shook her head. "I'm not a mercenary Alexis, I have my own agenda and your enemies don't fit into it." With a final sip to finish off the glass, Rory set it down on the table roughly. "Find someone else to do your dirty work."

With that, she stormed out of the room and left Alexis behind her. Stepping out into the hall, her eyes immediately landed on Tim who was leaning against the wall glaring at the door she had just come out of. The second she came into view, he visibly relaxed and brushed off one of the guards who tried to stop him from moving closer to her.

"Everything alright?" he asked, taking her arm once more.

Rory gave him a nod. "She just wanted to hire me to kill some of her enemies. I told her no of course and that I am not a mercenary. Needless to say, I think she is less fond of me."

"I think that's a good thing honestly," he muttered, glancing over to see Rory's surprised face. "I-I mean in the sense of she clearly doesn't have your best interests at heart, asking you to do something like that. But Rory, I have to know just how much of your life is she aware of?"

Rory took a deep breath and looked around. "Not much actually, just the fact that I am an assassin and that I dated someone named Timothy. I tried to keep things as vague as possible so I don't think she knows anything incriminating at least."

The two of them continued the walk down the hall towards the double doors in front of them, their previous conversation forgotten about. "You ready to do this honeybuns?" she asked, the amusement clear in her tone.

"About as ready as you are cupcake." he chuckled and led her into the ballroom.

The doors opened to reveal a large open room that had a beautiful golden chandelier hanging from the top. Every member in attendance was dressed in black and white, but Rory's dress was by far the most obvious. Most women went for the simple look, but hers outshined them all.

Tim held her close to his side, they had to pretend that they were a couple and a married one at that. Glancing down at her, Tim could see Rory surveilling the entire room to see where all the cameras, guards, and exits were in case this turned ugly.

Carefully, he removed his arm from her hold and slid it back around her waist, and leaned down towards her. "You know, no one is going to believe that you are having any fun with you looking around like that," he muttered softly in her ear.

Rory turned her gaze to meet his eyes and let a soft smile graze her face. "You're right, how are we going to play this? We do have a cover to keep up you know?" she asked, leaning into his hold.

"How about we starting with a drink darling?" he asked, and began to walk them both over towards the refreshments, trying not to laugh at the face Rory made and the pet name he gave her.

"What? Too much?" he asked with a chuckle.

Rory laughed and grabbed drinks for them both. "Maybe a little, how about we stick with the usual huh Dragon Boy?" she asked, peeking up at him through her mask.

Tim looked down at her, taking in a sharp breath at the old pet name that she used to call him. It was personal, and even now it still sounded like she loved him when she said it. "I think that's a great idea Songbird," he said sipping his own.

From the first taste, they both could tell that whatever it was that they were drinking had alcohol in it. The two of them had to be careful, sure they both had high tolerances but that did not mean they could get sloppy with their job.

Rory eyed Tim as she drank from her cup. He looked really good in the suit that he was wearing, and the pale gray of his mask made the blue of his eyes stand out even more than usual in contrast. She could see the natural curiosity that lingered behind his gaze, Tim never stopped learning even when he was supposed to be relaxing.

But now, his gaze seemed focused not inquisitive. Tim's goal was to protect Rory, and it was obvious by the way he never let her farther than arm's reach.

Glancing around the room, they were right next to the dance floor where many couples were waltzing their way across the room. With an idea popping in her head, Rory grabbed his drink from his hand and set it to the side with hers.

"What are you doing?" he asked, clearly confused.

Taking his hand, Rory led them both closer to the dancefloor and placed his hands on her waist for him.

"We are going to dance while we look for Merlyn. Think you can pull that off?" she asked with a grin.

Tim laughed and adjusted his hold, his left hand rested firmly on her back now while his right one was intertwined with her left one; Rory's right one resting on his shoulder. "You do remember who taught you to dance right?" he asked, leading them into the waltz in time with the rest of the attendees.

Tims eyes never left hers as they waltzed around the room, he kept her body pressed close to his with the hold he had on her back. Rory tried to ignore the warmth of his hand on her bare back, but it was hard to when his hands shifted every so often.

"Do you remember the last time we danced?" he asked softly, his gaze not leaving hers.

Rory gave him a nod. "It was at the Wayne Christmas Eve Ball. That was the last public event we went to before-"

"Before you left." he finished.

Rory looked at him with wide eyes. Whenever her leaving was brought up, it usually ended with them in a fight of sorts and not speaking for days. It was obvious how painful it was for Tim to talk about it, Rory knew that she shattered his heart with her cruel words but it was the only way. She couldn't risk his life like she was risking hers.

"Tim, I-"

"Don't, I know there is something you aren't telling me and usually it's with good reason. But Rory, It's killing me having you this close and yet so far. I've tried to forget you, to stop loving you but I can't. I'm going to love you until I the day I die, and even with my last breath I'll be thinking of you."

Rory stared at him in shock, Tim still loved her? After all she put him through he still found the ability to love her. Her eyes were wide in surprise as Tim carefully leaned closer to her. It was as if he was testing the waters on what she would let him do. To the rest of the world, they were a newly married couple, but if she let him do what he wanted it would mean much more than it seemed.

Right as Tims's lips were about to brush hers, there was a tap on Tim's shoulder by a taller and older masked man. "May I have a dance with your beautiful partner?" he asked.

Tim cleared his throat and stood up quickly and took a step back. "Of course sir," he then looked at Rory with a pointed gaze. "I'll be by the drink table if you need me Songbird," he said softly and disappeared from sight as Rory was left to dance with the man in front of her.

Lucky enough, she recognized the man behind the mask immediately. "How nice of you to join me, Malcolm. I thought you would never show." she greeted.

Malcolm's lipped curved into a smile, as he began to dance with her around the room. "The second you entered the room, I knew who you were dear Aurora. I've told you once and I'll tell you again, you can't hide from me no matter how hard you try," he said, looking around as they danced.

Rory chuckled as she followed his steps. "Well, it's a good thing I wasn't hiding from you now isn't it?"

"You do remember that I was sent to kill you?" he asked, glancing at her.

Giving him a nod, Rory grinned. "But you and I both know that you won't kill me, the only thing you value more than money is your pride. Killing me would be destroying something you created, one of the greatest assassins in the world." she let out a chuckle. "No, what I'm here for is to see you."

"Well, you certainly have my attention along with Timothy's for sure. The poor kid can't keep his eyes off you." Malcolm pointed out. "But what do I owe the pleasure of being in your presence?" he asked.

"I guess I'll cut to the chase. I need you to run interference with the other assassins sent to kill me," she said quietly, to keep her voice unheard.

Malcolm looked intrigued at her words and shrugged. "Why would I do such a thing for you? I think that not killing you should be satisfactory enough," he said looking around.

"Bold of you to assume I don't have any leverage on you Malcolm. I have proof that you made a deal with someone. It's quite obvious that you don't want Ra's to know, so I would hope that you will take my offer. I'd hate to see what he does with this photo of mine." she grinned. The look on Malcolm's face was all she needed

"How long do you need me to interfere with the others contracted to kill you?" he asked stiffly as he glanced around the room once again.

"Long enough for me to find a way to get them off my back. If you get caught, just use the excuse that you want to kill the monster of your own creation." she chuckled.

Malcolm let out a sigh before a grin adorned his face. "Fine, I'll take your offer. But if you want people to believe that you are married, you might want to put in a bit more effort. You didn't fool me, think about how many people see right through you."

Rory sputtered at his words. 'What the hell are you talking about?"

"Why dear Aurora, most married couples can't keep their hands off each other. You've barely touched your so-called husband, I doubt he will forgive me for interrupting when I did." he chuckled. "If you can convince me, you can convince them all."

Frowning at his words, Rory resisted the urge to stomp on his foot. "What I do with him is none of your concern." she snapped.

"No, but next time maybe pick a cover that doesn't make it look weird when you refuse to touch him," he said and before Rory could answer, Malcolm left her in the middle of the dance floor and disappeared into the crowd.

Moments later Rory found Tim talking to a couple. He saw that she was done with her dance and waved her over with a smile. "Dinah sweetheart, please come meet this lovely couple" he smiled.

Rory's heart did flips at his smile, it was the same one he used to give her back when they were together. Slowly, she made her way over into Tim's arms as he wrapped one around her waist and held her close. "This is my lovely wife Dinah, we're here on our honeymoon as I told you both earlier," he said, gesturing to her.

The couple in front of them looked at Rory's dress in awe. "My Mrs. King, that is quite a dress you are wearing. Where ever did you get it?" the red-haired lady asked.

"A friend of mine made it for me, she knew my size and had it made for this event," she answered. "You should have seen James' reaction. He couldn't keep his eyes off me." Rory giggled and placed her hand on Tim's chest who turned to look down at her.

"Only because you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen Songbird, that dress only accents the beauty that is already there." the playful tone in his voice was gone. Rory stared up at him as her hand went to cup his face.

How had she not notice how he really felt before now? It's not like she was purposely avoiding it, but now it was even harder to ignore her own feelings for him. Malcolm was right, their cover was never going to work because of her. Rory couldn't detach herself from her feelings for Tim and they both could suffer because of it.

Instead of responding, Rory leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Thank you sweetheart." she smiled softly.

Tim's face froze at her actions, he couldn't believe that Rory actually kissed him and there was nothing more at that moment that he wanted to do than kiss her once more. Judging from the look on her face, Rory felt the same. At this point, he didn't care what they looked like; all he wanted was Rory and he'll be damned if he didn't do something about it finally.

"If you'll excuse us, I think we are being summoned by a friend." he smiled and took Rory by the hand and led her out of the ballroom and into the hall. No sooner were they alone did Tim cup her face and kiss her fully with everything he had in him.

Rory's body reacted instantly, leaning into him as Tim's lips laid claim to her own. Her hands gripped his to keep herself grounded, the lack of oxygen made her feel like she was on cloud nine as Tim kissed her.

This was what she had been waiting for, to feel him against her once more. Rory missed him more than anything and she regretted nothing more than leaving him, and she kissed him back with every ounce of emotion she had in her.

Pulling away to get some air, Tim closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. "Rory, I love you so fucking much it hurts. Please, please tell me that meant something to you." he pleaded, his voice cracking at the end.

"I love you," she muttered in between short kisses. "I love you, and I never stopped. Don't you forget that."

His hands dropped from her waist and held her hips tightly as he held her against the wall, kissing her deeply. Soft moans left Rory's lips as she gripped the front of his jacket in her hands.

"Let me show you how much I love you, please?" he asked pressing kisses to the base of her throat.

"Show me."  

Before they knew it they were back in their suite with the door locked behind them and Tim's lips were on her's once again. His hands roamed across her clothed figure, desperately trying to rid her of the torturous fabric. Tim needed her, and he needed her now.

Rory pulled his jacket off and began to unbutton his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders in the process. "Songbird, please." he pleaded.

"Don't worry Timothy, I'll take care of you."

[animemangasoul]

Tim & Jason Becoming a "We"

Summery: Tim and Jason become a unit and are each other's backup, always.

Tim doesn’t know how, doesn’t know when, but time flies, their world bleeds together and suddenly, Tim can’t really imagine a future where his previously estranged brother doesn’t fit like a puzzle next to him.

It’s like having a perfect match in everything.  

Someone who isn’t you but understands you. Someone who seamlessly connects with you in a way that lifts the weight of the earth of your shoulders and Tim stops thinking of them as Tim and Jason and starts seeing them as “we”. Because they are in this together. In a family that isn’t quite comfortable with either of them, in a family that is a ghost of what it used to be, in a family where either of them feels the stinging feeling of betrayal like a blemish against their skin. Their plight becomes a “we” and their struggles becomes an “us.”

-------

They are flying across the sky, Jason only slightly ahead of him, and Tim doing his best to keep up while avoiding jolting his side too much because, ouch, he winces, hand coming up to rest on his ribs as he takes another swing across the rooftop and stumbles after Jason. He really should have readjusted the bindings before he’d thrown himself into the air tonight, but alas, it couldn’t be helped now.  

Another Arkham breakout had brought the whole family together tonight and Tim couldn’t afford to step down, especially since they were already shorthanded with Cass being in China and Duke off world. Tim had to step up, because he knew that he was needed. And Tim would always be there when he was needed.  

Bruce voice crackles through their earpiece as soon as he lands next to Jason who’d stopped to wait for him. Tim doesn’t know whether he should feel insulted or appreciative of the gesture. He settles on a nod; Jason answers him with a tilt of his head. Before he then follows it up with a slight twitch of his shoulder meant to ask a silent question. Tim shakes his head. ‘No,'  he communicates with that gesture. ‘I don’t want to talk. Stop worrying.’ His brother shrugs and turns away.  

“Red Hood, Red Robin, come in.”

Pressing on his earpiece, Tim settled more comfortable on the roof; shifting his leg and allowing some of the pressure to shift away from his injured side before speaking. “Here Batman. Where to?”

“Two Face has been spotted near your area, so I need you to cut through the construction site and corner him by the warehouse on fifth.” Their father’s voice sounds blank, but Tim can hear the underlying frustration, aggression and urgency behind the lack of emotions.

Tim stills. Eyes darting over to Red Hood before speaking again. “The construction site?”

“Yes,” Batman snaps. “Is that a problem Red Robin?”

“It is,” Jason cuts in before Tim can answer. “I’ve been keeping an eye on that site and a weapons deal is supposed to take place there later tonight and if we bust through it now I’ll miss my chance to solve my case. I case I’ve been working on for weeks if you can bother to remember.”

A pause, and then. “We don’t have time to be worried about your other cases right now Hood. Cut through the construction site.....”

Bruce keeps talking, but Tim isn’t paying attention anymore. His eyes are focused on the clenching and unclenching of Jason’s fists and yeah.... Bruce shouldn’t have said that. This case, it had kept Jason up for days, little girls had died and... Two Face was dangerous but--

“Batman,” Tim said; finger pressed against his cowl. “We’re taking the north street and swinging in from behind. It should get us there in around the same time.”

“Red Robin!”

But Tim isn’t focusing on him. His eyes squarely resting on his brother. “We got this Batman. Reds out.”

Turning off the com he breathes out slowly.

He didn’t like to defy Batman. Didn’t like to step on toes. Didn’t want to rock the boat, but.... Jason needed backup and Tim was his backup. Always.

“Let’s go,” he says, sprinting across the roof and jumping over the edge. It takes a second, but he hears the heavy boots of his brother following his footsteps. “Can’t believe you just hung up on Batman,” Jason snorts. Tim can barely hear him through the coms. “Now let’s kick some ass.”

Tim grins.  

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

The dinner table is surprisingly noisy today. Most of the family somehow having been able to make their way upstairs after a heavy night out and if it wasn’t for the bump and bruises all around, the noise would have probably been twice as loud.

“Hey,” Dick screamed from the other side of the table. “Someone pass me the ketchup!”

Grimacing, Jason picked up the bottle and shucked it at the other man, Dick gracefully snatching it out of the air and grinning at him smugly. “You’re disgusting,” Jason huffed, staring in horror as Dick proceeded to gleefully add a generous amount of ketchup on his pasta. “Disgusting.”

“You only say that cuz you haven’t tasted this art!”

Shaking his head, Jason picks up his own fork and proceeds to eat his exasperation away, because.... yeah, Alfred’s pasta was delicious and sure they were all eating at like five in the morning, but a vigilante's schedule was never set in a healthy routine, so this was fine. This was perfect.  

Shooting a quick look at the teen sitting next to him, Jason frowned; mouth stuffed full but eyes observing the too quiet figure that was Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne. The kid had been oddly out of it lately, and Jason didn’t like it.  

Didn’t like it one bit.  

Nudging the other ever so slightly, Jason lifts a brow when Tim finally meets his gaze. The heavy bags under the kid’s eyes a serious cause for concern and Jason finds himself mimicking the other’s expression, the frown deepening when all the other does is give him a pathetic attempt at a smile.  

Not ok at all.

“So,” Dick says loudly, momentarily forcing Jason to look away from the kid. “You’re all coming to our annual family dinner tomorrow right?”  

His grin is huge and for some mystical reason doesn’t take away from his charm despite the smear of ketchup at the left corner of his mouth. “I know we’re all busy, but it will be good to be together under the same roof without being forced to. Plus,” he adds, practically bouncing on his seat. “Dami is coming back from his camping trip so we can all finally just be a family!”

There is an echo of tired confirmation all around the table, brightening Dick more and more as no one puts up much of a fight. Stephanie just shrugging in a silent agreement next to his overhyped brother and Bruce smiling slightly at his oldest son, the others only nodding along, but it’s more than anyone has agreed to in a very long time and Jason finds himself not minding at all. In fact, “What about you Jason?”

“Sure,” he says, fork at his lips. “I think we can make it.”

“We?”

Dick sounds confused.

Jason only nods. “Yeah, me and Timbo over here.” Finally looking back at his baby brother, he suddenly notices the new stiffness that has reshaped the replacement’s frame. Now he looks even more pale, even more sickly, and Jason worries his lip. This doesn’t look good.

“Oh,” Dick says. “Right! Timmy! I almost forgot you were here! You’re so quiet lately!” A laugh.  

Dick doesn’t see Tim flinch.

Jason does.

And nop, not gonna let that one stand. Jason hadn’t worked his ass off to make the idiot come into himself just for dickhead to bring it all down with an ill-timed humor that hit too close to home. Nop.

“You know what,” he says, fork clanging on the plate as Jason stands up. “I forget that we had other plans. Sorry Dick, but me and the replacement will have to bail on you tomorrow.”

He watches as Dick’s face falls and he feels something like satisfaction pulse through his veins. He does his best not to show it. Instead grabbing a confused Tim be the elbow and dragging him up. “We have that case thing in Hawaii that we need to take care of.” Tim looks utterly confused. Jason doesn’t care. “So next time?”

“I....” Dick looks between them, something like a shadow passing through his eyes when Tim unconsciously leans on him, a small sigh of contentment escaping his lips. “You sure you can’t make it Timmy?”

Tim blinks slowly down at their brother, shoulders going rigged under Jason’s arm. “Yeah, sorry Dick. We have that case... that really important case and.... Say hi to Damian for me.”

The demon spawn.

Jason doesn’t know how in God’s given earth Goldie still hadn’t realized that Tim would do anything not to be in the same room as that kid. Could one person be that oblivious?

“Are you sure kiddo? Dami would really like to see you. He misses you?”

And.... yup. One person could really be that oblivious. “We’re leaving,” Jason huffs. Dragging his replacement behind him as he snatched up his gun from the corner table and only pauses slightly for Tim to pick up his computer bag before he leads the other out the dining hall and through the rest of the house before exiting the door. Not even turning around to acknowledge Bruce’s command to stay till dinner was over.

Tim needed backup. Jason was his backup.

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

“We didn’t do it.”

Bruce’s glare turns towards him. Tim tries not to flinch. “We didn’t do it,” he repeats, his stubborn streak flaring up as he feels slightly corned by the looming figure. “We didn’t.”

“I wasn’t talking to you Tim.”

“I know,” he says, scooting forward in his chair so that he can more comfortably hold Jason’s hand. Jason who is practically glowering at their father.  

“Then don’t speak for your brother.”

Tim is glaring now. “I’m not speaking for him. I’m just telling you that we didn’t do it because I was there. I wouldn’t lie about Jason killing someone Bruce!”

“He shot him!”

“Because the shitbag fucking shot at us! What the fuck B!” If Jason didn’t have a sizable hole in his shoulder Tim was sure he would have flung himself at Bruce by now. “What did you want us to do huh? Die?”

Bruce frowned. “Of course not.”

Shaking his head, Tim tried not to sigh, squeezing Jason’s hands reassuringly instead. “We didn’t kill him Bruce. I promise. It was a nonfatal shot anyways. He couldn’t have died from that.”

“But he is dead. Whether you like it or not Jason has broken his promise and---”

“But he didn’t kill him!”

Batman glares. “He should have been more careful. I’ve trained him better than that. He knew what he was doing and---”

“And what!”

Tim is mirroring Bruce’s glare now.

“Jason can’t continue to operate thinking he’s above consequences Tim.”

And.... Tim is on his feet in a second. He doesn’t know why he reacts like this..... No, he knows exactly why because... “What suit would you have picked out?” He is so so angry.  

“What?” Bruce doesn’t show it, but a mild confusion tilts through his tone, and Tim lashes out.

“I said which suit would you have picked out? For our funeral I mean.” Even Jason is looking at him now. A stunned surprise mirroring Bruce’s own painting his face, but Tim doesn’t spare him a glance. Doesn’t spare anyone else in the room a look. Eyes squarely focused on their shocked father.  

“After we died by the docks and you eventually found our bloating bodies floating in the dirty Gotham waters, which suit would you have picked out? Because that’s what would have happened if Jason hadn’t shot that man. We would be dead Bruce! So, maybe stop trying to equate our lives to your moral code! And just be happy we didn’t die for once in your life!”

Silence.

Tim is breathing heavily, eyes refusing to leave Bruce’s own, but he still feels the flush of embarrassment burn at his cheeks because... wow, he’d just screamed at Bruce and.... Jason squeezes his hand. Tearing his gaze away from his statue of a father, Tim’s eyes connect with his brother, and Jason squeezes his hand again, giving him a tiny smile and.... yeah.

Sitting back down, Tim fiddles with the other’s fingers until Bruce spins around and marches out of the cave. And yeah.... Tim would fight anyone for Jason, because Jason and him. They were a unit. A team. A “We.”

They had each other’s backs, because they chose to, because they needed to, because they wanted to. And Tim didn’t mind being a “we” with Jason if that meant he’d always have backup in the form of his favorite big brother.  

----------

Dick holds up a chocolate chip cookie to Tim and Jason slaps it out of his hand.

“What the-” Dick says, startled as he watches the cookie fly out of his hand and hit the ground. “What did you do that for?” he asks, turning on Jason.  

Shifting his sunglasses, Jason stares up at the bright blue sky before shrugging at Goldie. “We don’t like chocolate chip anymore.”

“What?”

Even Damian is giving him a weird look now, the four of them finally hanging out after forever of Dick begging and threatening them to do something together outside of work.  

Tim snorts.

“You heard what I said,” Jason huffs, fishing a butter cookie out of his own bag and handing it over to Tim who takes it without a protest. “We don’t eat chocolate chip anymore.”

“I literally saw Tim eat it yesterday!”

Jason scoffs and Tim has tears in his eyes trying not to laugh. “That was yesterday Goldie. Get with the times.”

The end

Notes:

@miss-choco-chips​ I got inspired by your fic (especially that Jason and Tim part) so I wrote you this in turn. It’s more fluff and isn’t funny at all but I’m sending you soft emotions your way!!! Since tim and jason are our favs ;)

@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen​ Sending fluff your way as well!! Hope you like it. We’re are currently on hiatus of torturing tim sooooo happy moments it’s what we’re writing lol.

[bigskydreaming]

tagged by @rose-blooms-red

rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and interests you and i’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!

Only going with Batfam fics since that’s the fandom I share with Ro, and like, I’m ridiculous and work on literally dozens of WIPs for years at a time in fits and starts, in the idea of occasionally finishing one and posting it in completion which works great in theory but never seems to work out that way in practice OH UNKNOWABLE UNIVERSE, INEXPLICABLE ME.

Which means my Batfam WIP folder, as in fics that are actually in existence in bits and pieces because non-linear writing FTW (dubious), is already ridiculous enough as is. Keep in mind this is the accumulation of like....literally five or six years of adding content and writing stuff here and there. But yeah, also keep in mind like, I’m just ridick. Thing you gotta remember is I write primarily for me, to just get things out of my head. Like, I do really like external validation too, but I’m very very weird in that like, I have tons of stuff people have never read, original and fic-wise, and its not like...because I don’t want people to read them, its just......Things Happen and then they don’t and....yeah. This has been a presentation of Deep Thoughts, By Me. Let’s just say management is aware of the issue and its being worked on.

SERIES 

KINGS OF THE SKY (aka that one where Jason doesn’t die, one-shot installments)

Weapons of Choice - Dick POV during his Robin days

Teachable Moments - Jason POV when he calls Dick after the Felipe Garzonas case and everything jumps ship from canon

Blood of the Covenant - Jason POV while Dick’s recovering from the Church of Blood storyline, plus enter The Adoption Issue

There are other later installments that make sense to me but wouldn’t make sense to anyone else without the in-between pieces, so just leaving them out even though whole ones are entirely written ahfishflahfal

BURY YOUR DEAD, LAY THEM DOWN, LET THEM REST (aka Ric fix-it series, plus addressing Lots More, one-shot installments)

Tell Me Your Secrets, I’ll Make You A Ghost - Duke POV with Dick pre-shooting, plus with Cass in near aftermath

You Can’t Take It With You, But Don’t Leave It Behind - Cass POV immediately following previous one, Interlude-ish

The Dead Don’t Live Here Anymore - Ric POV, bonding (slowly and awkwardly and very very dysfunctionally) with Jason and Cass at the same time, hello powderkeg, meet match

The Good Die Young and the Bad Aren’t Dead - Jason POV investigating things hinted at in the previous

Welcome To Purgatory, We Hope You Like Your Stay - Tim POV confronting then awkwardly teaming up with Damian who has Plans re: these Nightwing impostors

Life After the End of The World or What the Hell Are We Even Supposed To Be Doing Now - Jason POV confronting Cass about the secret she’s been keeping re: Dick but its not what he thought it was

 A Ghost, A Zombie and a Dead Guy Walk Into A Bar - Ric POV, with Cass and Jason again

The Long Dark Night of Richard John Grayson - Ric vs the door keeping his memories locked up tight

Two Houses, Built In Shadow (aka that one where I build a rival family of villains/antiheroes to act as the Batfam’s foils)

Smoking Guns and Smoking Mirrors - Dick POV and Babs POV, introducing Dick and Babs’ counterparts - 3 chapters plus epilogue

Werewolves of Gotham - Jason POV, introducing his counterpart, 5 chapters

Ghosting the Machine - Tim POV, introducing his counterpart, 3 chapters plus Interlude-y epilogue

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil - Duke then Steph then Cass POV, three long-as-fuck-dear-god-what-was-I-thinking chapters

Providence - Bruce POV, introducing his counterpart, seven thankfully much shorter chapters (its all relative, shut up)

Queen’s Gambit - Dick POV then Cass, pinning down the identities of the rival fam before they can figure out theirs first, format to be determined as everything written for this part is an incomprehensible mishmash of paragraphs out of context hahaha I do things smart

Way Down Deep Where The Sun Don’t Shine - Jason POV, the climax and denoument, five chapters plus epilogue

MULTI-CHAPTER STANDALONE FICS

They Never Said Saving the World Would Go Like This - that epic saga of Dick and Kyle

The Spy Who Forgot To Come In From The Cold - the Spyral + amnesia fusion fic

Ghosts of Graysons Past - John Grayson makes a deal with his old buddy Boston Brand to save his son from his fate at the hands of the Court of Owls, and Jason gets roped into riding shotgun via ‘so apparently I can see dead people now, but not all dead people, just SOME dead people, the really really loud ones’

99 Views To A Kill - that Dick and Boone Vengeance Academy AU

Been There, Done That - Dick fosters then adopts a kid being fucked over by the system in ways eerily similar to his own past, aka does the Bruce Boogie and projects like whoa

The Vienna Game - the Batfam versus a global criminal gang with secrets upon secrets and unveiling some of theirs in the process

The Brothers (Most) Grim - that one where Jason is thrown by Dick being a mob enforcer then supervillain as he prepares to make his return to Gotham, Things Then Do Not Go According to Plan, Dammit Dick 

The Patron Saint of Robins - the one where Dick doesn’t forget but everyone else still does

Shadows Cast - that one where Jason becomes Flamebird and he and Dick focus on abused kids in specific

Hunt the Dark - that one where Dick learns some magic in the in-between Robin and Nightwing time, which comes in handy when Jason’s return from the dead is accompanied by some unseen supernatural predator stalking the ghost that got away

SHORT(ish) MULTI-CHAPTER STANDALONE FICS

First, Do No Harm - aka the one where Dick saves a fairy and the fairy’s a little shit about it

We’ve Only Got Nine Lives, Let’s Waste Not A One - aka the one where Dick and Selina bond over something and Bruce has no idea what it is and its driving him nuts - not cute, very angsty, I am sorry

The Grass Is Always Greener On The Other Side of the Tracks - aka five times Dick taught a sibling how to trainsurf plus one time they reminded him he gave them good stuff to go with the bad 

The Boy in the Red Hoodie - years later, Dick realizes the kid he taught a few self-defense moves during that brief time he ran away in Robin: Year One wasn’t really named Peter anymore than he was really named Freddy

Once Upon A Time In Gotham - that de-aged to a teenager fic

Forget Us Not - Jason and Dick are revisited by reminders of a case they worked on together when Bruce was ‘out of town’ years ago while Jason was still Robin

The Centuries Can Wait - that one with Amelia Crowne versus William Cobb over the course of generations

ONE-SHOTS THAT HAVE NO EXCUSE FOR NOT BEING DONE, WHAT AM I EVEN DOING (oh right, I guess technically I have SOME excuse for fanfic not having been the biggest priority in my life for a few years but look I am Drama, hear me wax rhapsodic whilst emoting most verily)

Where Other Leaves Did Fall - Dick POV, Dick discovers relatives from Amelia Crowne’s side of the family, aka his grandfather had a half-sister he never knew about

Point of Origin - Jason POV, fall-out from the Bruce mindwipe reveal in Identity Crisis and how it might have made his relationships and way of interacting with Dick and Jason in particular like...swerve

Two Wings and a Prayer - Dick POV, Court of Owls wingfic, look, I am me, you had to know there was a wingfic in here somewhere

Sitting In Darkness, Still Waiting On That Dawn - Jason POV, Dick dealing with the revelation of his family’s history re: The Court of Owls

Tell Me No Lies - Jason POV, despite the years and the death between them, post-UTRH, Jason still knows his brother’s tells, and his brother knows his....its why they’re avoiding each other

Witness to a Crime - Cass POV, that thing where you notice things no one else does, but not always knowing what they mean

We’re Just Not Gonna Talk About These And The Passage of Time, That Asshole

Born Under a Bad Sign - and its sequel. They still exist! In theory!

By Lost Ways - oh yeah, I was supposed to get back to posting that huh, I should do that, okay, righteo, that’s a mea culpa my dudes

Tagging anyone who wants to be tagged lol, cuz I suck at this but if you see this and are inspired to do this as well, you can totes blame me for the tagging!

[the-roanoke-society]

boys and girls of every age...

wouldn’t you like to see something strange?

happy halloween, my flowers!

this year hasn’t been the best--and the list of reasons why is as varied, as wide and as deep as all of creation.

it has, essentially, sucked on a truly cosmic level.

but!

it doesn’t help anyone to look at the big picture and only focus on the dark parts. because for all the truly horrible, disastrous events we’ve had to slog through together (first time crying every day for months, first time being taken by ambulance to the er--truly a year of firsts, at least for me, personally), there have still been good things.

for example, did you know that this year we celebrated the 6th anniversary of the release of kingsman: the secret service? and the 3rd anniversary of the release of kingsman: the golden circle--which means next month it’ll be the third birthday of the ronaoke society!

our house might’ve gotten quiet--but it still stands.

i love all of you very, very much, and halloween is still my favorite holiday of all time. so all this month, i worked on the aus you’ll find below the cut. i’ll have to post this in parts over the next while, as there’s thirty-one total--one for each day of the season, of course.

honestly--it felt fantastic to dig back into my horror roots. roanoke’s entire conception was inspired by the fact that for as much as i love the kingsman universe, i also love things that go bump in the night.

and i don’t like having to choose between one thing or another.

be forewarned: if you choose to look into the source material for these aus, be prepared for possible graphic violence, gore, disturbing themes, explicit sexuality and jumpscares. i sort of walked through the proverbial garden and just grabbed fruit where i could find it--you’ll see what i mean. and as always, the endings are in your hands. these ideas are gifts, to do with as you please.

so journey below the cut... i̷̛̝͎͎̝̣̹͊̓̂͛̃̋͟f̛̯̟̱̖͔̌͊͐̏̃̓̇̎͠ y͈͇̙̘̓͌̑̈́͛̿͌͠��ở̀́̎̄͡��̴̢͉͉̳͙̞͈̻̈͢ȗ̵̬̳͙̫̥̜͍̲̔̐̽̃̀͒̑͜ ḑ̙̩̼̤͓̫̟̥̈͑̐̚͡a̧̢̦̟̙̤̠͐͌̾̆̑͌͡͞r̷̡̰̲̣͓̣̝͒́̿͊̉̀͒͠͝͠ͅe̫̯̣̰͍̤̬̭̺̒̿͊̾͊.

blackbird on the old church steeple - a butterfly knife au inspired by the silence of the lambs

rae clementine doesn’t frighten easily. in her line of work, fear is not a friend. so when she’s abruptly pulled out of her fbi training at quantico to interview none other than the notorious harry hart, known for his--let’s say unusual appetites--she’s less intimidated and more annoyed.

but women are being taken, and found without their skin, if they are even found at all.

if hart’s insight into the mind of a psychopath can help her find the infamous buffalo bill, who has repeatedly evaded arrest--then she is more than willing to sit across from the gentleman in a pristine cell, and be continuously surprised that for a murderer, his gaze is surprisingly gentle.

in the back of her mind, she remembered all the things her mother had ever told her about lucifer--how the king of hell himself was utterly wicked, but catastrophically beautiful.

charm could hide blood. polished etiquette could hide bodies.

“most serial killers keep some sort of trophies from the victims.”

“i didn’t.”

“no. you ate yours.”

she’d felt this kind of intrigue before, and given the face it wore this time... well.

focus on the case, she thought. find buffalo bill. watch yourself. get out alive.

mini soundtrack sampler includes: ajr, ‘bang!’ + tame impala, ‘the less i know the better’ + barney bigard, ‘readdy eddy’

dogs & deadbolts guard the night - an au featuring @roanoke-after-dark​‘s the gremlin and @agentjotunn​ inspired by resident evil, particularly the released imagery for resident evil: village

santi’s first thought was that the rumors were just blatantly untrue. an entire village of people? suddenly vanished? he doubted it. besides, winters this far north were brutal--and could be fatal, if you weren’t careful. they had probably just all tucked in for the season, he reasoned. the snow and ice would’ve made travel impossible, anyway.

weeks passed. the stories faded from his thoughts as he minded his garage, and people spoke less and less about it.

until one evening, when an old friend knocked on his door with blood on his jacket and no color in his face.

“bradley? jesus, what hap--”

“grab your gun. something’s happened, and we need to leave now.”

“but what--”

“i’ll explain on the way, just go!“

right before he slammed the passenger side door of bradley’s jeep closed--wheels appropriately chained to keep a grip on the iced over roads--he heard a deep, long howl from some distance away.

there hadn’t been wolves this close in fifty years.

santi broke the silence in the car gently: “... you look like you’ve seen the face of the devil. what exactly happened?”

mini soundtrack sampler includes: ac/dc, ‘highway to hell’ + think up anger ft. malia j, ‘smells like teen spirit’ + marilyn manson, ‘sweet dreams’

the light under the door - a body shots au inspired by dark skies

the blacks weren’t superstitious. jason wasn’t, just like his father wasn’t before him, and now that he’s finally settled down happily married to joanne--finally, he thought, finally married to his jo--he is more than ready to see what the next chapters will bring. they moved into a house not too far from his parents, so he could still see his siblings regularly.

and he did.

which means he and jo both noticed when his younger brother christopher began to act a little--off.

they noticed when the bruises appeared.

they noticed when he kept copying the same strange symbols onto papers in crayon over and over and over and over--

and jo definitely noticed when she walked into their own kitchen in the middle of the night to find every single cabinet door open, with all the contents arranged into an impossibly perfect pyramid on the center island.

“i--are we being haunted?” she wondered out loud, the next morning. “this--and weird things are happening at your parents’, too, jason, something isn’t right here. i know you don’t believe in ghosts or anything, but...”

and this wasn’t a haunting.

it was something much worse.

mini soundtrack sampler includes: kennyhoopla, ‘how will i rest in peace if i’m buried by a highway?’ + cannons, ‘fire for you’ + days, ‘the drums’

permission access eternal - an au featuring @siggy-the-meme-master​ and technical officer wyvern, inspired by a.m.i.

it was supposed to be the world’s most cutting edge ai software. and since jeremy and dodger were both at the top of their class at m.i.t., of course, nobody was surprised when both their names were on the finished product--even if there was just one prototype to start.

and it wasn’t an ‘it.’ it was a she. jeremy insisted. repeatedly. “let’s call her ami!” he’d been flush with booze but his eyes were so bright and his expression so sincere, dodger just let him have it. and jeremy clapped his shoulder, “we did it, man! we have built the jessica rabbit of ai programs!”

they had one last test run to prove they’d metaphorically kicked the ass of everyone else in their field before they began the work to begin mass production. so, dodger set ami up as a sort of overhead assistant for their shared lab. she controlled temperature, lights, she could make phone calls, keeps schedules and most importantly of all, place takeout orders. the more she proved she could do, the more power, and control, she was given.

two weeks passed. they gave ami a voice, gave her a large proverbial eye to see through, making tweaks as they went to polish her off.

dodger was so proud of his work his heart could’ve exploded.

so imagine how he felt when he realized he’d left his cell phone in his car--and realized he couldn’t open the door.

“ami? ... ami. can you unlock the front door please?” he stared up at the red lens, and a silent point of light stared back at him.

“... i’m sorry. i cannot do that. dodger.”

“... uh, jeremy?”

mini soundtrack sampler includes: cage the elephant, ‘social cues’ + sneaker pimps, ‘6 underground’ + saint motel, ‘preach’

in hell i’ll be in good company - a lies & lessons au inspired by underworld

for centuries, a war has raged between vampires and lycans, completely outside the notice of the general human population. lauren is a death dealer, a lethal and beautiful member of an elite squad of vampiric assassins who have been charged with finding all the remaining lycans in the city and taking them out one by one.

when she realizes the lycan pack seems to be looking for an ordinary man--a medical student named jack daniels--she tracks him down herself, narrowly escpaing lucian in the process. (as soon as they were in the car he was already screaming, “what the fuck is goin’ on?!” with a southern twang she hadn’t expected) she takes him under her wing, still baffled at why the lycan pack could possibly want him.

he’s only human, after all.

... right?

as it turns out, vampires and lycans have a single common ancestor.

jack is a direct descendant.

and after being bitten in an attack--becomes a hybrid, carrying the powers of both species.

between unraveling the truth surrounding the death of her family, what really happened between lucian and kraven, and her growing feelings for jack--who is rapidly trying to understand his role in the story that’s been unfolding without his knowledge for generations--lauren finds herself at a crossroads, and her loyalties tested to a breaking point.

but as long as jack is at her side--perhaps it doesn’t matter where the road goes from here.

as bullet-riddled and blood-soaked as it will turn out to be.

mini soundtrack sampler includes: wallows, ‘are you bored yet?’ + cage the elephant, ‘shake me down’ + puscifer, ‘rev 22-20′

ash, fog & rust - alternatively titled ‘@gaygent​, @agent-judas​ and agent seraphim finally take that road trip to pennsylvania’

it was time to hand over the torch. that’s what lilith had finally decided. between the white patches in her hair, the strain it was putting on her relationships (especially with hamish)--morgan only had to return to the hills one more time as envoy.

and she wasn’t going alone.

“after this, anything that comes through this area, anything that hits our radars, is going to end up on both your desks,” she began, glancing at z in the passenger seat, and meeting cillian’s eyes once in the rearview mirror.

“so this is--what, a test run?” z asked, head slightly tilted. morgan hummed.

“this place--this town--it--” she huffed, frustrated. cillian could hear the leather wrapped around the steering wheel creak as her grip tightened. “it’s hard to explain, to someone who hasn’t been there. and i’m glad that neither of you have had to go before this, but...” another sigh. “i couldn’t think of any other duo that i could entrust this to. not something this big. you--” she pointedly lifted her brows at z, “--have experience with creatures that aren’t from around here. and you--” this time her gaze went to cillian. “--do too. just in a different shape. it’ll take both of you to handle centralia. and i couldn’t introduce you without coming along.”

“how long, exactly, has roanoke been keeping tabs on this place?” cillian asked. he’d spent hours going over everything he could find--mission logs, reports, feeds and images housed in the media room. morgan looked at him again. her eyes were still kind--but very, very tired.

“... a long time.”

i’ll admit that this is less an au and more a canonical event that i just haven’t gotten around to writing more about. but i couldn’t make this list without at least one entry paying homage to a franchise that’s had a huge influence on not just me as a writer, but on roanoke’s canon as a whole.

for the sampler, i will simply redirect you to this post here.

the devil’s gonna set me free - an anchored hearts au inspired by horns

joseph moretti had been in love with louise franz since fifth grade.

granted, he didn’t realize it until he almost drowned because of that stupid dare--a dare that not only almost killed him, but took two of lee’s fingers when that goddamn cherry bomb went off in his hand.

the same cherry bomb he’d traded to him for fixing louise’s broken necklace--a small silver pendant, shaped like an apple. she’d worn it every single day since he could remember. the image of her and snow white were eternally tangled in his head.

that necklace--it’d been the start. he’d woken up because of an apple. louise, did, too.

the hours they spent in that treehouse, listening to david bowie and memorizing every scar and curve of the other--he wished that could have been his eternity. just him. and her. ... well, and bowie. every good love story needed a soundtrack.

but... but...

his head pounded as he lifted it off the counter in his parents’ kitchen. his mouth was dry, and he blinked, causing a half-empty bottle of vodka to come into focus.

louise is gone now, he thought.

and they thought he was the one who did it. he, the one who loved her more than anyone else on the planet.

he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

he was going to prove his innocence even if it killed him. no matter what happened.

even if he sprout horns.

mini soundtrack sampler includes: machine gun kelly, ‘bloody valentine’ + the black keys, ‘go’ + david bowie, ‘heroes’

moonlight rising from the grave - alternatively titled ‘that time @agent-nightcrawler​ and agent iuniore found a haunted mansion,’ inspired by disney’s haunted mansion

“hello? ... hellooooo?” the massive door let out a huge groan as sylva pushed, putting one hand on tina’s shoulder as it swung open. “uhm--i’m really sorry to bother you, but we hit a deer and we just...” sylva sighed, her voice lowering in volume. “... need to use the phone...”

“this place is gigantic,” tina whispered, close at sylva’s side as they stepped out of the pouring rain into a very quiet, very elegant foyer. “and look! there’s lights, and all these lit candles... someone has to be here,” she continued as the door came to a gentle close behind them, muffling another roll of thunder.

“good evening.”

both of them yelped, sylva immediately yanking tina closer to her and whirled around in time to see--a butler? he was dressed like a butler.

and his clothes were... he was...

“sylva! why is the butler see-through!” tina whispered harshly, all while the spectral gentleman just looked at them expectantly. sylva clamped a hand over her mouth.

“hi!” she answered brightly.

this is a ghost. i’m talking to a ghost. this is fine. everything is fine.

“uh,” she coughed, beginning again, “we’re just having a little bit of a car emergency, is there a way we can call our head office? so they can come get us?” this is what i get for being out where i have no bars, and neither of us have our specs...

the ghostly butler nodded. his hair, glowing faintly, waved around his head as though he was underwater. “of course. please--follow me. the master of the manor will want to meet you.”

mini soundtrack sampler includes: the chordettes, ‘mr. sandman’ + bobby pickett, ‘monster mash’ + bastille, ‘survivin’’

mercy no more - a magic & mischief au inspired by the evil within

aly had been kieran’s partner at the krimson city police department for years. she’d walked with him through the death of his daughter, the disappearance of his wife.

neither of them acknowledged the spark. they didn’t then, and--as she met his eyes once in the rearview mirror, trying to pay attention to connelly and joseph as they talked about beacon--they wouldn’t acknowledge it now.

as soon as the hospital came into a view, a high-pitched ringing overame every other sound in the cruiser, every other sound period. aly slammed her hands over her ears, but it didn’t seem to help.

as soon as it started--it stopped. connelly had to swerve to avoid getting into the wrong lane.

“what--what was that?” aly asked, her palms still hovering by her ears.

“it was probably just a problem with the radio,” joseph suggested, pushing his glasses up as they drove pass the established police barriers.

the last dispatch team, they said, hadn’t come back. it was up to the three of them to find out what happened to their colleagues.

aly was close by kieran’s side as they walked through the rain. her gut twisted at the sight of the entry doors.

the smell of the blood and the slaughter hit her nose before she saw the bodies.

“what on earth happened here?”

“i don’t know. stay close. let’s find the surveillance room. if we can find the security cams, we’ll find out answer...”

if only that had been the end.

mini soundtrack sampler includes: all time low, ‘monsters’ + bastille, ‘what you gonna do???’ + gary numan, ‘long way down’

and the wind will be my hands - an au featuring @agent-sentinel-official​, @agent-chimera​ and @gaygent​, inspired by session 9, with a special appearance by @agent-thorn​

walter vaughn was an expert in abestoes abatement. so when he put in a bid to take on the entire danvers state mental hospital, the owners of the rotting estate welcomed him on board.

and as they did, he brought on two crewmates--xander, and z--to help him.

“we’ve got three weeks, so, no need to rush,” he explained on the first day, the sun beating down on his broad shoulders and half his hazmat tied around his waist. xander and z trailed behind him as they approached the massive building. “and i know, i know it’s still a big undertaking--but the money will be worth it. trust me.”

“you fellas our cleanup crew?” a tall, thin man in a suit with dark hair and a pair of ray ban sunglasses walked towards them, smiling broadly. he extended a hand, “carter jensen. the ah, danvers’ estate board sent me on their behalf to give you a tour of the building, let you get a good assessment of what you’re dealing with. i’m not entirely sure what they’ll do with the property when this is done, but we know for sure nothing can happen until this part’s complete. come on, the entrance is just this way... i’ll make sure to give you a master key ring.”

xander leaned down by z’s shoulder, muttering, “dude this place gives me the creeps... but maybe there’s still some cool old stuff left in there. like maybe, possibly, the trapped souls of the damned. you think it’s haunted?”

z answered, murmuring, “if not by ghosts--then maybe by something else.”

mini soundtrack sampler includes: the talking heads, ‘psycho killer’ +  lou barlow, ‘choke chain’ + sublime, ‘doin’ time’

[bat-losers-inc]

Collisions in the Dark (Ch 19): Silent Move

Summary: Jason and Tim are finally face to face again after their previous fallout. They’re ready to make amends, but nobody ever said it was going to be easy.

Chapter Notes: Silent Move: A move that has a dynamic tactical effect on a position, but that does not capture or attack an enemy piece.

“We were lovers that had lived and died together, and our date ended as they always had in life: with both of us trying not to cry, looking at the floor and wishing we could be more than our shared self-hatred.”— “ Dating a Mutual Ghost ” , Meggie Royer

When they readied to leave Paris in the same private plane Tim had piloted into the country in, it was already dark. The city lights twinkled at them as Tim looked out the window from the co-pilot’s seat. Damian had been very adamant about taking the pilot’s chair, scoffing at Tim’s offer to fly home.

“You’ve already made more than enough bad decisions this week. Please, let’s not add to the list.”

Tim slid into the co-pilot’s chair. “Bad decisions? I got myself here in one piece, I’m pretty sure I can get back just fine without you, Damian.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, but the truth is you’ve been helped through every stage of this little adventure of yours. I just helped you break up with Deathstroke—”

“We did not break up,” Tim cut in quickly. “It was a business relationship.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever, Drake. The point is you got your panties in a wad over the prospect of calling him to break off the deal and I had to do it otherwise we’d be here for days.”

Tim eyed him. Damian might be complaining now, but Tim thought he’d enjoyed making that call a little too much. “Was he mad?”

Damian glared at him. “He can get over it. Serves him right for enabling you.”

Tim had never felt shameful because of an eleven year old boy.

Their conversation lapsed into silence as Damian taxied down the runway and concentrated on getting the plane into the air. It wasn’t until they’d leveled out that Damian continued speaking.

“So, where was I?”

Tim pulled his gaze away from the window where he’d been watching the wisps of clouds part around them, hazy and gray in the night sky.

“Oh right,” Damian continued. “Your false sense of autonomy—”

It was Tim’s turn to glare.

“I helped with Deathstroke, Aunt Nyssa helped you bring back Todd, Mother’s men help you with that doctor and his family—”

Tim shoved himself around in his seat. “What? The family— they got out?”

“Yeah,” Damian glanced at him worriedly, setting the controls to autopilot. “Mother told me a few days ago… smuggled them onto a plane heading to the U.S. Grandfather was too busy looking for you to notice. I thought she’d told you as well.”

Tim shook his head.

“No. I just assumed that they never made it out,” said Tim, mostly to himself.

He slumped down in his chair after that, lost in his own thoughts. Damian seemed content to leave him that way. It was a long flight back to Gotham and Tim would have this new piece of information and more to think on before they got there. He just hoped he’d have some sort of idea of what to do once the wheels hit the ground.

Tim climbed the stairs to the apartment with the intense knowledge that he had no idea of what he was going to do or say. Hours spent playing out the situation in his head had left him feeling nauseated and utterly conflicted. The only conclusion that he’d managed to come to as they were stepping into a taxi car, was that he would be a victim of his emotions… what those would be when he looked the man in the face, he wouldn’t know until the time arrived.

The fluorescent lights sputtered overhead like they were signalling to them in morse code, the bulbs a day or so from dying completely. The erratic flashes of light cast harsh shadows in the creases of Damian’s jacket as he lead the way up the stairs in front of him.

When they reached the door, standing arm to arm, Damian paused to look at him.

“I’m going to need you to stand over there for a minute.”

Damian pointed to the wall beside the door.

“Why?”

Damian worked his jaw and sighed. “Don’t make me say it. You know why.”

Tim did know. The spot Damian had pointed to was far enough away that if someone answered the door Tim would be out of their direct line of sight. Tim knew why… he just didn’t understand why it had to hurt so much.

Tim rubbed at his eyes and took a few steps to the side.

Damian nodded approvingly and knocked on the door. They stood there for some time in silence before Damian scowled and banged his fist against the wood and kept at it until the door was yanked open a minute later.

“What, asshole!” Jason barked. From where Tim stood, he could see the profile of Jason’s body set against the afternoon sunlight streaming in from the window at the end of the hall. The side of Jason facing Tim was cast in shadow, the sunlight catching in the beads of water that clung in his wet hair and glided down his arms to where his hand fisted a terry cloth towel against his hip. Tim would have had to be blind for the sight not to pull at something deep within his gut. It was desire and fuck if Tim didn't hate the fact that he wanted a boy who didn't want him.

Tim could see the moment Jason blinked and realized who was standing in front of his door. Damian let his hand fall to his side and readjusted his jacket.

“What the hell are you doing here, Batbrat?”

“It’s time that you two talked.”

Damian’s eyes flashed over to Tim and back to Jason. Jason went ridged as Tim stepped into his line of sight. Tim tilted his chin up and met his gaze evenly. After dealing with the likes of Ra’s and Slade Wilson, it almost felt easy. Who was this man, he thought, that could tear him to pieces so easily? Did he know he possessed this power over Tim?

He could sense that Jason wanted to close the door in their faces and lock it, but instead he opened the door wider and stood stiffly as Damian and Tim crossed the threshold. Jason closed the door and stared around the room like he didn’t recognize the place.

He rubbed his free hand against his jaw before saying, “Give me a moment to put some clothes on.”

He hurried down the hall on bare feet.

Tim looked around the space. It was different from when Tim had last been there. New windows had been installed, the broken glass was gone, the smashed furniture shoved into a pile in the corner of the room. He wondered when Jason had come back and cleaned it up. Was it when Tim had left the country? Did he even know that Tim had left the country?”

Damian took a seat at the end of the kitchen table while they waited. There were files spread across the table top. As Damian flipped through Jason’s handwritten notes, Tim realized they were files of league associates.

“Todd’s been trading information with Mother.” said Damian. “These are the league’s records… Or parts of them anyway. Looks like he was taking a different approach to stopping Grandfather’s schemes.”

The boy motioned for Tim to take the chair on his right, “Don’t you want to sit?”

Tim shook his head.

He walked around the table and propped himself against the wall behind the offered chair. From this position he had a clear shot towards the apartment door. With his eyes still fixed on the front door he asked, “Why would he do that? It’s not his fight. He made that infinitely clear when he left me alone to deal with this.”

Damian’s eyebrow arched as he studied the information laid out in front of him. “Maybe he left so that you could get better while he dealt with Ra’s for you.”

Tim snapped, “If he wanted me to get better he should have stayed.”

Damian eyed him, quietly. Tim was just about to ask him what it was he saw that was so curious, when footsteps sounded down the hall.  

Jason returned dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt that clung to the damp skin on his chest and shoulders. Tim dug his teeth into his bottom lip and dragged his eyes up to meet Jason’s green eyes.

Jason leaned against the opposite wall, meeting his eyes over Damian’s head. The older man appraised him.

“You look like you need sleep.”

“I could say the same to you,” Tim countered.

“What are you doing here, Tim? And with Damian of all people.”

Damian turned in his chair to address Jason. “I’m sorry… what is that supposed to mean?”

Jason rolled his eyes at him. “You know damn well what it means. You two are an unlikely fucking pair to be showing up on someone’s doorstep, acting like you’re best friends all of a sudden.”

Damian clapped. “Well, I’m glad you’re finally putting those detective skills to use. Have you figured out why we’re together? What it means for two people who hate each other to be standing peacefully together in a room?”

Damian’s teaching voice was making a comeback. Tim smirked at Jason’s aggravated expression. It was fun to watch when it wasn’t directed at him.

Jason ground his teeth. “Just say what you want to say already.”

“It means that we’re family and family sticks together when shit starts to get heavy. Tim’s gotten himself into a lot of shit recently and I’m standing knee deep in it right next to him.”

“Has anyone ever told you how eloquent you can be when you put your mind to it?”

“Shut up, Todd. I wasn’t finished.”

Damian sighed and seemed to pick up mentally from where he’d left off.

“We’re family. That means that we’re going to be a part of your life and you are going to deal with it. That’s a two-way street, Todd… I’ve seen what you’ve been working on lately.”

Damian jerked his chin towards the files on the table.

“Even when you’re not involved with Tim, you’re still involved. You still care about him and that’s why I think there’s some recent events you need to be made aware of.”

Jason’s body unfolded, unease present in his alert posture. “Like what?”

“Well for starters,” Damian unzipped a pocket of the backpack he carried on one shoulder. “Here’s your gun back.”

He placed it down on top of the file folders.

Jason stared at it in shock. “How— where did you even—”

“I took it off of Tim last night. I found him in a hotel room in Paris with my grandfather.”

“Ra’s?” Jason swallowed. “Please tell me you didn't—”

Tim crossed his arms over his chest and studied his shoes. “I tried to kill him. I missed. If Damian hadn't come when he did…”

Tim shrugged and fell silent.

“Why were you in Paris?” asked Jason.

Tim pressed his lips together tightly and shifted his gaze to the wall by Jason’s shoulder. Damian sighed at Tim’s silence.

“He went to find Slade Wilson to put a hit out on Ra’s.”

Though he spoke for Tim again, the look he flashed Tim afterwards told Tim that it would be the last thing he said from here on out. He’d brought Tim here for him to work things out with Jason, not to do it for him.

“So you’re putting hits out on people now?” said Jason. “And that doesn’t conflict with your morals at all?”

“You want to talk to me about morals?” Tim quirked a brow. “ You?”

Jason crossed his arms. “I’m not talking about my principles here. I’m talking about yours, because the boy I knew —”

“I’m not the same person that you left behind.”

Tim fixed his eyes on him and let his words hang in the air between them. He wanted Jason to feel the full weight of them, to compare Tim to this former self and see if he still liked the boy standing in front of him.

He felt no shame when he spoke. “What I did, I did to survive and Slade was a card that Ra’s wouldn’t think I’d play. All I had to do was win Slade over.”

Jason shoved off the wall and rounded the table towards him.

Tim met him halfway.

“Fucking hell, Tim! Have you lost your damn mind? How could you possibly do something so idio—”

Tim punched him as hard as he could in the face.

“You do not get to criticize me!” He shouted, as Jason doubled over with a bloody mouth. Tim ignored the stinging in his hand.

“You weren’t there, Jason! While I was busy making all the hard choices, you were hooking up with a stranger. Did you even get my message? Did you even give a shit?”

Jason straightened, a hand wiping the blood from his chin. His fury, present only a moment ago, had vanished from his face.

Now Jason’s eyes were soft. “I got it and I do give a shit… way too much of a shit when it comes to you. ”

It infuriated Tim that his words could tug at his heart. He was justified in his anger. Jason shouldn’t be able to make that go away with only a few words.

“Then why did you do it?”

Jason tilted his head away toward the papers spread on the table.

A ray of sunlight cut across his face, illuminating his eyelashes and the freckles sprinkled across the bridge of his nose. If Tim took the time, he could map them out like constellations in the night sky. Tim ground his teeth and shouted at himself. Stop it. Stop seeing the beauty in this boy’s face. He’s cold and he’s cruel inside and he left you on your own.

“I thought someone else might help me forget about you.” Green eyes returned to meet his. “He didn't.”

Jason stepped closer. Tim looked up at him warily.

“You’re under my skin and I can't shake you. I’m tired of fighting my feelings for you.”

Tim ducked his gaze. “Don’t play with me, Jason. If you can’t take me as I am now, then I don’t want you.”

Jason’s fingers skimmed his jaw. He saw the way Tim shrunk away from his touch and Jason stepped backwards towards the wall.

“I want to stay.” It was less a demand than a plea.

“Even if I’m broken?” Tim’s voice was hoarse. “I can’t even recognize myself anymore. What if I’m not the boy you fell in love with before? Ra’s stole something from me when he took you away, something I don’t think I can ever get back.”

Jason’s presence returned, the tips of his fingers skimming the pads of Tim’s own. The barest of a touch. Tim leaned in, feeling the heat of Jason’s breath against his skin. Jason buried his nose in Tim’s hair. He dipped his chin to nuzzle his nose against the cool skin of Tim’s forehead.

Tim shivered.

“You’re not broken.” Jason breathed, “ Just changed. I don’t love you for your looks or your innocence. I love you for your strength, and even after all that Ra’s has done, he never broke that. You’re the strongest person I know, Tim.”

Tim pressed his face into Jason’s chest, his fingers tightening in the soft material of his shirt. “I’m not strong. When he was in my room in Paris last night, I couldn’t bear the thought of him having me again… The only reason I’m still standing here is because he pulled the gun away from my head.”

Jason’s hands came up to caress his back. He took a horribly long moment to absorb that information, pressing shaky kisses into Tim’s bangs. All the while, Tim listened to his uneven breathing as Jason tried to keep himself from crying. He had to wait a long time before the pained noises stopped, Jason’s fingers, that had been playing with the baby hairs at the nape of his neck, falling away.

When Jason spoke over Tim’s head, his voice was rough around the edges.

“Damian, give us some time alone, would you? An hour… whatever you can get before everyone comes asking questions.”

Damian nodded. “I’ll hold them off for as long as I can.”

He had his bag in his hands and was out the door without another word. When the door had closed behind him, Jason shifted backwards, his hand coming to rest on Tim’s shoulders. Tim looked up at his face, the wetness staining his cheek reflecting in the sunlight.

Jason wiped under one eye with the back of his hand. “You should have told me. If you’d called me I would have been there in an instant. Damn it, Tim. I was angry, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still care about you.”

“Everything had been happening so fast, and I was just so tired of running and fighting for every second of freedom. I’m afraid to think of what I would have let Ra’s do to me if Damian hadn’t put a stop to it when he did.”

Jason reacted as if burned, snatching his hands away from Tim. “Christ, I'm sorry. I didn’t even ask… I shouldn’t be touching you—”

Tim caught one of his hands and placed it back on his hip. “Jason, it’s okay. I know you’d never touch me like he does. I’m never scared when you put your hands on me… you’re soft. Gentle. You’re so very far from being him.’’

Jason’s hand cupped his face. “I should have never left you. Forgive me. Please, forgive me, I love you so fucking much.”

Tim’s tears slid down his cheeks and splashed onto Jason’s fingers. “I forgive you, Jason. Do you forgive me?”

As an answer, Jason captured his lips in his own. They were wet and salty with the combination of their tears. Jason’s hands were in Tim’s hair as he pressed gasping kisses to Tim’s lips.

“I love you,” he breathed between each kiss and Tim echoed him word for word for a long time before they finally lapsed into an exhausted silence, locked together in each other’s arms.

“What now?” Tim whispered against Jason’s breast.

Jason slid his hand into Tim’s and pulled him towards his bedroom. Tim moved uncertainly into the bed after Jason, wondering what the next step from here would be. He trusted Jason, but he wasn’t sure if he was up to being intimate so soon.

To his surprise, Jason settled on his back and pulled Tim to lie down on his front next to him. Tim shifted closer until his head rested against Jason’s chest, his arm snaking around the middle of his stomach. Jason kicked the covers up over them and let his hand settle against Tim’s lower back, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over Tim’s tailbone.

Tim melted into the touch, the tension easing from his body.

“Let’s get some sleep while we can, babybird. I think we both need it. Everything else can wait.”

[batboys-and-other-messes]

Thunder and Calls (Jason Todd X Fem!Reader)

Requested: YES Request:  Rain was the most beautiful thing ever! Can you do another one but there is a thunderstorm and the reader is afraid Summary: Thank you! I wasn’t sure if you wanted another “Lazy evening” story but I just wrote one (aka Rain) so I changed it up a little. But I kept the Fear of thunders bc that’s how I roll. (And that was like, the main point of your request, so). It ended up somehow long and now I need a pizza. Word count: 1955 Warning(s): Blood mentioned, Obviously thunderstorms.

 -----

 BOOM

Another lightning struck down on the dark streets of Gotham and you nearly jumped out of your skin. You shivered slightly, like a phone that was set on vibrate while a desperate ex tried to get a hold of you. Which, funnily enough, he did.

You looked at the Clock above the entrance to the shop you worked in. Your shift had ended an hour ago, everything has been cleaned up and the keys have been in your (now sweaty) hand for the last thirty minutes and yet here you were. Hiding behind the counter and praying that the storm outside would soon pass.

Everything inside you screamed to go to the backroom and hide there while Zeus stopped the tantrum he was throwing right now but you couldn’t move. In fact, you had this primal urge to stare out of the glass walls of your shop to make sure the sky didn’t suddenly fall down on you.

Another thunder boomed, and you closed your eyes.

Your hand was clutching the keys, trembling like the leaves of the tree outside and your phone has been ringing constantly in your pocket.

Oh dear god, why?

“Okay, (Y/N).” you said out loud to yourself. Slowly you tried to stand up. “It’s just a thunderstorm. You’re completely safe in here. Nothing-” Another thunder struck, and you immediately crouched down again.

“I’m a damn wuss.” You finally admitted, and you knew that your progress had been kicked off the edge with a war cry.

You just wanted to go home and hide under some blankets in your bathtub and sit this out. At least you would’ve been a little bit more comfortable hiding at home than here in your workplace after closing hours.

Suddenly you heard the bell above the door sound, signaling that someone entered and you peeked over the edge of the counter to see who would enter a closed shop in this ungodly hour.

You starred at the figure standing in the entrance. It seemed to be a man and only as the next lightning struck could you see him illuminated in light.

Red Hood?

The Red Hood?

He was holding his arm as he looked around. “Uhm, hello?” you said meekly which made him almost jump in surprise and point a gun at your direction in less than a second. You squeaked as you crouched down again, disappearing behind the counter and out of shot range.

Fuck, he has guns.

Wait, of course he has guns but wasn’t he a good guy now?

“Uhm… Sir, could you please put the gun away? We are closed.” You managed to politely ask while you were still under the counter.

“Oh.” He said as you heard something rustling. “Why is the door unlocked?” he finally spoke up, ignoring your request and something about his nonchalant question rubbed you the wrong way.

“What?” you asked, irritated. Why did this matter?

“The sign clearly says closed. So, why are you here?” you answered with a sudden confidence you didn’t even knew you had.

“Because of the unlocked door.” he said.

“Wha-? This doesn’-`? Just because a door is unlocked doesn’t mean you can enter!” you said, standing up again and facing him in pure annoyance.

“It doesn’t? Wow, you’ve just shattered my whole world-view.” he sassed back and you starred at the eyes of his helmet with a frown. It was hard reading his expression from behind that thing, (or rather impossible) but the gun was gone and you could finally relax a little bit. He was again holding his arm that, now that you were more focused, was clearly bleeding.

“Anyways, did you see a weird man enter here?” he asked.

“Uhm, besides you?” you answered and he pointed his finger at you, probably frowning right now. “Listen, I don’t have time for your attitude. I’m after a bad guy.”

“Then why- “ your reply has been cut off by another, heavy lightning strike and you dropped down again, your trembling hands still holding the counter as you died from a mixture of fear and .. embarrassment? “Is this some weird workout-routine you are doing?” he asked confused and you glared at him from the edge of the wooden top.

“Just leave me alone.” You said, too afraid to argue or sass him back.

You heard his heavy footsteps move away from the door and towards you before he casually jumped over the counter.

For a moment your heart stopped as you thought he had finally snapped and was ready to shoot you for your rudeness when he only placed his hands shortly on your waist, move you to the side and grabbed the first aid kit that was stashed under the counter.

You watched him in your hyper-alert state as he finally sat down opposite to the counter, leaning against a cupboard and opened the first aid kit with one hand without saying a single word. You were still feeling the ghost of his touch on your waist as you didn’t leave him out of your sight for a single second. Slowly you turned around, mimicking his pose sitting on the floor and leaning against the counter.

“What are you doing?” you finally asked but he didn’t look up as he took his arm out of his jacked and searched for something in the kit.

“I didn’t like thunder either, when I was a kid.” He said, pulling out a pair of tweezers before eying them.

You mustered him for a moment, trying to decipher the tone of his voice or his body language but it was nearly impossible as he looked a casual as someone reading the newspapers.

“It reminded me of gunshots.” He explained, before he seemed content with the choice of tweezer he had and started to try to remove the bullet from the obvious bullet wound on his shoulder. You watched, horrified as he only grunted a few times in discomfort but never complained.

Was this situation real? Were you sitting here with this vigilante while he basically operated on himself, talking about the damn weather?

You watched the precision he worked with as if this was a normal Wednesday night for him and something about his calmness seemed to transfer over to you.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, curiously and he looked at you.

“So the wound can heal faster and I don’t have a damn bullet in my body? It’s a real bitch to explain on airport controls with the metal detectors and all.”

You chuckled.

“No, I mean, why are you… Why are you talking to me?” You struggled to word your question right.

“Uh, Rude.” He said before he looked at the bullet between the tweezer and you could hear him mutter a quiet ‘son of a bitch’ before putting it in his pocket.

“No, seriously.” You inquired again.

“Does it matter?” he countered and somehow it resonated with you. It didn’t matter, and you were honestly glad that he offered you a kind of distraction from this storm that was still going on outside. But still, there was something about him that you tried to, for a lack of a better term, solve. Like a mystery that you tried to peel off the layers until you hit the core.

“No. I guess, it doesn’t.” you admitted before you had enough of watching him struggle with the antiseptic and scooted closer. “Wait, let me help.” you said, taking the bottle in your hand.

“Sure? You look kind of pale.” He said and you nodded. “I don’t mind blood.” You said and that was apparently enough for him to give you free rein to clean his wound.

As you worked, silence set over you, only interrupted by the occasional thunder but you were so focused on your work that you didn’t even fully register them. Suddenly your phone in your pocket started to vibrate again and you flinched.

You looked at the caller ID of your ex and sighed before continuing to tighten the bandages.

“Trouble?” He asked. You contemplated if you should explain your situation for a second before you decided against it. “It’s nothing”

“Bullshit.” He said with a lot less force than one would expect. “And this after I opened up about my tragic backstory? Rude.” He said and you chuckled.

“You didn’t” you said and he leaned his healthy arm against his propped up leg.

“I did. Thunder and gunshots? It was very heartbreaking.”

“Well, It wasn’t exactly the most elaborate story I’ve ever heard.”

“Wow… Okay… Duly noted.”

You couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off your face as you finished your work in silence.

This guy… was something else.

“It's my ex.” You said as you closed the first aid kit and he looked at you.

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“Do you want to hear it or not?” you asked and he nodded once. ”Yeah, sorry. Shoot.”

“Okay, so, It … Well it didn’t end… good. He was an asshole and now he is always calling me, especially during storms because he knows I’m terrified of them. He only calls when he thinks my guard is down and he probably thinks I am going to come crawling back to him. Just because he managed to be a decent human being for 5 full minutes.”

You sighed.

“I had to change my number twice because he somehow kept finding my new number and wouldn’t stop calling. It’s just annoying, you know?”

You looked at the man and he was silent for a moment.

“I could shoot him.” He said and you let out a little laugh. “Yeah, please don’t do that?” you said, with a little hint of fear behind your words. He wouldn’t really… would he?

“Besides, he doesn’t even live in Gotham.” You said quickly. “He lives in metropolis. He was always too afraid to come here.” You explained and Red Hood let out a little laugh.

“I know a way to help.” He suggested. “Interested?”

“Does it end with him being shot or killed?”

“No.” he said truthfully. “But he will probably cry.”

“I’ll take that.” You nodded.

“Then I’ll need your phone.” You hesitantly handed it to him as he got up. The Storm outside was gone but the streets were still dark, and the moon illuminated the pavement.

He typed something on your screen as he offered you his hand absentmindedly, to help you stand up, which you took gladly.

You haven’t even notice the sky clearing up. When did the thunder stop?

“Here.” He said, walking toward the door as he passed you the phone or rather softly threw it.

“Uhm… Thank you?” you said, luckily catching it and unsure of what he did or what he is going to do. He simply nodded. “Don’t forget to lock the door this time.” He said before you heard the bell ring again and found yourself standing in the dark shop, alone and confused.

Who the hell was this man?

What kind of pact did you just seal?

And why did you feel so warm suddenly?

 -----

Jason walked over the gravel on the rooftop as he made sure you got home safely after closing up the shop. This was Gotham, after all.

His hand went to his comm unit as he finally heard the tired voice reply in his ear.

“Hey, replacement.” he said. “I need you to find someone for me.”

“Name?” Tim asked and Jason watched you enter your apartment complex with a smile on your face.

“No, but a phone number.”

“Is this about a mission?” The younger one asked, not sure if he actually wanted to know.

“Something like that.”

[taylor-talks-books]

Long Way Down - A One Minute Journey of Inner Struggle

Rating: On a scale from this book didn’t mean anything to me and I hate free verse, to I’m completely torn up by the emotional rollercoaster that this book was, I would rate it as a this book made me consider people’s life journeys in a new way… and yeah I needed a tissue here and there along the way...

Jason Reynolds’ Long Way Down is a YA book unlike any other I’ve encountered before. Both its content and form provided me as the reader with a completely unique reading experience. Written in free verse, this book follows the story of Will - a fifteen year old boy who’s older brother had just been shot and killed. Immediately, the idea of “The Rules'' is introduced in the story; rule 1 - no crying, rule 2 - no snitching, and rule 3 - always seek revenge. These rules encompass the book’s entire framework from start to finish, serving as a driving force of the plot, as well as a recurring theme. The story kicks off with Will’s decision to follow rule number three and seek revenge for his brother’s murder. As he leaves floor seven of his building in the morning at 09:08:02am, Will is met with a surprise guest on the elevator - a ghost from the neighborhood. At each floor the elevator stops, another ghost gets on. Time seems to stand still as Will interacts with each of the ghosts, trying to figure out why they’re there with him, each bringing him a lesson or insight. Eventually, Will’s revenge plot gets redirected as he is met with the ghost of his newly deceased brother, whom he wouldn’t let himself cry over.

In Long Way Down, I found the element of repetition to be a driving force of the story and its structure. As I mentioned above, the idea of “The Rules” is heavily influential to the story and these rules are often repeated throughout. This repetition of content is important in shaping the reader’s concept of the story’s environment, as well as to establish the tension and severity of the main circumstances. The repetition of “The Rules” plays a major role in creating a powerful story. At the same time these elements are working to shape the story in a meaningful way, I argue that mainly the repetition of the rules in this story proves that the ghost characters on the elevator aren’t actually ghosts, but manifestations of Will’s anxiety and guilt fueled by his commitment to the rules.

To begin, the repetition of the rules throughout the course of the story builds the tension and importance of Will’s plan for revenge. While he brings up rule one whenever he almost starts crying; it serves as a reminder for himself to not cry because it’s one of the rules that he’s been taught to live by. What fascinates me most is the persistence of Will to follow rule three of revenge. He first tells the reader about the rules as a way to justify his plan for killing someone - in revenge for his brother, as per rule three. So, the exposition starts with rule three motivating Will to create this murder plan in his head and then actually get onto the elevator, where the bulk of the action takes place. The rules serve as not only a reminder to Will what he has to do, but to the reader that there’s an underlying force driving Will’s decisions and emotions - he feels obligated to follow the rules. This is because all of the men in his family and in his neighborhood follow the rules. They all know the rules and pass them down to the younger generation, so that they can also know and live by the rules. Will tells the reader, “I wondered if he [Uncle Mark] was thinking about The Rules. He knew them like I knew them. Passed to him. Passed them to his little brother. Passed to my older brother. Passed to me. The Rules have always ruled. Past present future forever…” (Reynolds 174).This pressure has been fully ingrained in Will’s life, so when he experience’s his brother’s murder, his immediate reponse is to do what he’s been taught to do - follow the rules. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t snitch, and he plots his revenge plan, which he is determined to follow through with.

Will describes the rules as, “They weren’t meant to be broken. They were meant for the broken to follow.” (Reynolds 35). He knows that whatever happens, if someone he loves is killed, he must find the person and kill them - he can’t break rule three. And at the same time, since the death of his brother has broken a part of him, he can lean on the rules as support, for he believes that following the rules will help put him back together.

After establishing what the rules are and how they’re driving Will to get on the elevator to get revenge, the rules come up again when the ghosts that Will sees have their backstories explained. Will mentions how basically all of the murders in this book were caused by the effects of the rules. The rules create a cycle effect within the story - when one person is murdered, that person’s loved one then kills that person, and then that person’s loved one kills that person - this pattern continues. Similar to how the actual mention of “The Rules” is continually brought up in the story, the rules themselves are repeated in the story. A major plot development the reader learns is that

Frick killed Buck.

Buck was Shawn’s best friend, so Shawn followed rule three (revenge) and killed Frick for killing his friend.

Riggs killed Shawn to get revenge for Frick’s death.

Will realizes that his brother, who’d taught him the rules, followed them too. It was funny to me how Will was so vocal about the importance of the rules in his surrounding environment, as well as how everyone followed them, yet he didn’t make the connection that even his own brother would follow rule three at some point and kill someone. This would then explain why Shawn was murdered in the first place. Starting on page 266, Will says “Buck bent his pinky and ring finger back, turned his hand into a gun. Bang bang. Again What does this have to do with Shawn? I asked. Shawn stuck to The Rules, Frick replied… I swallowed… I struggled to get it out..” It was in this moment that Will realizes his brother followed the rules too, which ultimately led to his death, which was a result of the inevitable cycle of The Rules. In a sense, I found that the rules served as a backdrop for all of the murder and death in this story. The rules are what tie together everything happening within the book, as well as give Will his motivation and obligation to create his own revenge plot in honor of his brother and to follow rule three. I think the repetition and cycle of the rules is even foreshadowed in the book when Will explains how nothing is ever new where he lives - the same bad things continuously happen. I believe this is because everyone in that environment is conditioned to follow the rules.

The content of the rules are repeated again heavily in the book when Will reaches a major shift in his motivation for revenge because he finally starts to question the rules. Up until the very end of the book, Will had been so committed to getting his revenge, that even when ghost after ghost appeared on the elevator, he still stayed on - waiting to get to the lobby level floor so he could leave and get on with his plan. However, when Will’s brother Shawn gets on the elevator and Will tells him how he has followed the first two rules and is on his way to follow the third rule, his beliefs drastically change and he’s hit with a heap of confusion. His brother coldly ignores Will’s explanations and thought process, which makes Will really question if he’s doing the right thing. On page 296, Will thinks, “The rules are the rules right? [with “Right” written a bunch of times in the shape of a question mark (see below)].” (Reynolds Page 296). He confesses to his brother how scared he is to actually follow Rule Three and says he, “... needed to know I was doing the right thing”, so he was looking to his brother to confirm this for him (Reynolds 295).

In trying to figure out why the repetition of “The Rules” is so imperative to this story, I also connected them to the presence of the ‘ghost’ characters on the elevator. I have come to conclude that the ghosts in this story aren’t actually ghosts. The story opens with Will telling the reader that the story he is about to tell is all true and that they should believe him. So, I know that he wants us to believe that the ghosts he saw on the elevator were real. However, I believe they are simply a manifestation of his emotions of anxiety and guilt, as caused by his dedication to the rules.

For instance, Will being driven by his revenge plan to follow rule three has caused him to see the ghosts on the elevator, as a manifestation of his imagination . He feels like he has to follow the rules without hesitation because everyone before him did and that’s what he was taught to do. However, this pressure makes him feel anxious and the idea of actually killing someone makes him feel guilty already. These feelings have caused him to imagine the ghosts on the elevator, as a way of helping him decide if he should really go through with his revenge or not. Will struggles to decide if he should break the rules or not. He knows that everyone who came before him has passed down the rules and followed them to a tee, so he feels obligated to be just like them and do the same. On the other hand, with Will’s internal struggle to determine if rule three should really be followed, he debates if he should break the rules. And that’s where I believe the ghosts come into play - they appear one by one as a manifestation of this conflicted emotions from his mind. They serve as a way for Will to confront these feelings he has and to help him work out his internal monologue and stress. This is especially true of Shawn’s ghost, for this is the moment in the book when Will really confronts the deed he’s about to do - murder - right before he gets off the elevator and sees Shawn get on at floor two. Will’s mind has Shawn enter the elevator as a last resort to help him rationalize this decision and decide if it’s the right one, before it’s too late.

Ultimately, I believe the repetition of “The Rules” within Long Way Down sets up and shapes the entire story. The rules follow Will throughout - from start to end the rules are there and influencing many aspects of Will’s personal and surrounding life. So, the rules are an overarching idea that shapes the whole book through the element of repetition. At the same time, Will’s obligation to the rules forces him to find a fantastical way to cope with his anxiety and guilt about making the decision to kill for revenge. Thus, he had to create these ghosts of people from his life to talk it through with him. This allows for Will’s inner self to stand in front of him to observe and critique him, while trying to change his own mind and/or justify his decision. Combined, the repetition of the rules in the story and the Will’s manifestation of anxiety and guilt as the ghosts work together to create a meaningful story of obligation to a cycle and the struggle to justify acting out the cycle.

[aion-rsa]

Michael Myers vs Pinhead: The Hellraiser/Halloween Crossover That Never Was

https://www.denofgeek.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/10/rachel-talalay-five-scariest-scenes.png?resize=400%2C400

Up until the new millennium, cinematic crossovers were largely the preserve of Abbott and Costello or Godzilla. But that all changed in 2003 with the arrival of Freddy Vs. Jason. The Nightmare on Elm Street/Friday the 13th mashup had been 16 agonizing years in the making. New Line Cinema shelled out a reported $6 million on script development alone with as many as 16 different writers taking a stab at the concept. 

Despite such inauspicious beginnings, however, Freddy Vs. Jason ended up being a massive hit, raking in $116.6 million off the back of a modest $30m budget.  All of a sudden, crossover movies were in vogue. The kind of pop culture hybridization once reserved for the world of comic books was becoming big business in Hollywood. Freddy Vs. Jason was soon followed by Paul W.S. Anderson’s Alien vs. Predator which also cleaned up at box office making $177.4m off an initial $60m outlay. 

It was around that time that the idea for a crossover involving Halloween’s masked killer Michael Myers and Hellraiser’s iconic sadomasochistic cenobite, Pinhead, was first floated. 

Filmmaker Dave Parker, who went on to enjoy success with horror films like The Dead Hate the Living and The Hills Run Red, revealed during an interview with Creature Corner [via Paul Kane’s book The Hellraiser Films and Their Legacy p.224] he pitched an idea for Michael Myers vs Pinhead to Dimension. 

“I had pitched, unsuccessfully, Freddy vs Jason to a guy named Ross Hammer at Sean Cunningham’s company around ’94 or early ’95. After that didn’t go well, I started think about what other franchises were at other studios…It was a no-brainer to see that Dimension had both the Halloween and Hellraiser franchises, so I put together a trailer using footage from the Halloween movies … and I called the idea ‘Helloween’.” 

Parker elaborated further on his idea for the plot of the movie in an interview with Fangoria Corner [see The Hellraiser Films and Their Legacy p.224] published later that same year, saying that explaining why Michael Myers couldn’t die “led to opening the doors” to introduce Pinhead and the Hellraiser mythos. 

“I was just trying to come up with a plausible way to get these two guys together to fight,” he said. “So, why does he all of a sudden go out and kill his sister in Halloween? He’s trick-or-treating in a flashback and he goes up to this one house … and sees the guy with the black boots, who gives him the box. He opens it and the Lord of the Dead – Sam Hain – escapes from hell and takes over Michael’s body because he doesn’t want to be in hell. Now, Sam Hain is who the Shape is, and that’s why he can’t be killed.”

With the origin story out of the way, the modern part of the tale naturally followed. 

“So, the story takes place when people try to destroy the Myers house and they find the box hidden between the walls. Of course, they open it and Pinhead shows up, and it’s Halloween and it’s the Myers house, so Michael shows up because there are people there and Pinhead recognizes that Michael is Sam Hain because he can feel it – which begins this whole battle in the real world. And of course, the third act takes them all to hell…” 

Despite Parker’s intriguing proposal, Dimension rejected the concept – this was the mid-90s after all, a time when Kramer vs. Kramer was about as close as you got to film with a ‘vs.’ in the title. It would take another eight years and the success of Freddy vs. Jason before the studio would be turned on to the idea of a horror movie mashup. 

At one point, there were even plans afoot for Pinhead to feature in Freddy vs. Jason. One draft of the script written by Mark Swift and Damian Shannon saw Krueger and Voorhees fight their way down to Hell, only for the familiar Cenobite to appear and say: “Gentlemen…what seems to be the problem?” The cameo could have paved the way for an even more outlandish sequel featuring all three horror icons. Unfortunately, New Line Cinema balked at the idea of licensing Pinhead from Dimension Films. 

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Not that anyone was particularly disappointed at Dimension. Speaking to Your Move Magazine [via Movieweb], Pinhead actor Doug Bradley said “they didn’t think it would work…They predicted that Freddy vs. Jason would bomb, but it opened at the top of the box office and stayed there for a second weekend.” 

Of course, that success made Dimension feel more confident about a Hellraiser/Halloween crossover.

Eager to up the ante, in late 2003 the studio set a release date of Halloween 2004 for the film. They also enlisted the biggest of big guns to get the project rolling. In a surprise move, Dimension Films reached out to the original Hellraiser writer and director Clive Barker as well as Halloween’s own original co-writer and director John Carpenter. 

The plan was for Barker to write and Carpenter to direct – something Barker later confirmed during an interview for the Halloween: 25 Years of Terror documentary. Whether Barker got around to writing a script is unclear, but he definitely had ideas. Very interesting ideas, as Bradley revealed to me during an interview marking the 30th anniversary of the original Hellraiser’s release. 

“I remember getting quite excited at the prospect of it,” Bradley says. “Clive said that the versus bit, the Michael Myers vs Pinhead bit was a bit beside the point – it was a bit boring given that Michael doesn’t speak, which makes him a disappointment to Pinhead. Clive wasn’t interested in a mano-a-mano confrontation. He was interested in finding the places where the Hellraiser and Halloween landscapes might have crossed over. The first Halloween works like a classic vampire movie with Michael as Dracula and Dr. Loomis as Van Helsing.”

That relationship helped set up the conflict of the film. 

“Dr. Loomis spends a lot of the film warning people they don’t know what they are dealing with,” Bradley says. “It gave Michael this supernatural, mysterious element that made him so powerful. There was a suggestion he was something not human and Clive felt there was a way in there. Clive saw him as a sadomasochistic sexual pervert and serial killer which would be enough to pique Pinhead’s interest.” 

At the time, John Carpenter was in something of a self-imposed retirement, following the poor reviews that had greeted his most recent film at the time, Ghosts of Mars. Michael Myers vs Pinhead was not only a shot at redemption, it offered a chance to collaborate with one of the most unique voices in the world of horror. 

But just when it looked like the most unlikely of crossovers would come to fruition, everything stopped. While Dimension Films believed in the crossover’s potential, long-time Halloween producer Moustapha Akkad was vehemently opposed to the idea. 

And it was Akkad, crucially, who owned the rights to the Halloween franchise having purchased Carpenter and co-writer Debra Hill’s controlling interests during pre-production on Halloween 4. Barker would later hint at studio interference, telling a Fangoria convention that “The Shape” aka Myers was treated “like Hamlet” by certain big-wigs upstairs. 

In any case, the prospects of convincing Akkad of the project’s viability had not been helped by an online fan poll created by the official Halloween movies’ website at the time, which asked fans if they wanted to see a Halloween/Hellraiser crossover. 

According to CliveBarkerCast: “Out of 84,427 votes, 54% said NO”.  A year after pulling the plug on the project, Akkad was tragically killed, alongside his 34-year-old daughter, Rima Akkad Monla, in the 2005 Amman bombings. 

By then Hollywood had moved on from the short-lived fad for movie mash-ups – a Freddy vs Jason vs Ash of Evil Dead fame was pitched but rejected. A second Aliens vs Predator movie made a tidy profit but drew rancid reviews. 

Halloween eventually moved on too, with Blumhouse obtaining the rights to the intellectual property in 2015, after Dimension failed to move forward with a planned follow-up. No longer owned by the same studio, there remains one small glimmer of hope for anyone still clinging to hopes of seeing Michael Myers indulge in a spot of sadomasochism: David Gordon Green. 

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Green is directing the new trilogy of Halloween films and has also signed on to helm several episodes of an upcoming Hellraiser TV series for HBO. Watch this space. 

The post Michael Myers vs Pinhead: The Hellraiser/Halloween Crossover That Never Was appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[lookatthisdork]

Opinion piece: DC House of Horror (2017)

First of all SPOILERS for DC House of Horror!

Second, this is only my OPINION. It might be unpopular. It might even be offensive. But I want to talk about this before going back to my normally scheduled “hey look at this cool stuff” and “it’s stupid AU time!” content.

I did not read the Green Arrow and Captain Marvel/Shazam stories since I’m not currently invested in those characters. *shrugs*

The rest are...meh. The whole series seems to have Keith Giffen credited with the plot ideas, but each story has a different script writer. So I have no idea who I’m criticizing in each of these blurbs. Probably Keith. I don’t know.

Bump in the Night (feat Superman; by Edward Lee)

I have admittedly little experience with horror movie conventions, but I’m pretty sure this was aiming for the opening of a monster movie. Creepy, dangerous alien falls from space, kills the locals before making its way to more populated areas. The poor schmuck that finds it first always dies quickly and painfully, which is what happened to Pa Kent here. Kind of a cheap death, but it fits the genre convention.

The dramatic irony of Martha Kent trying to call her husband and her refusing to leave the house when something strange is happening outside were pulled off pretty well. Overall, I think she reads as a spirited but ultimately doomed horror protagonist.

My problem with this is that the alien (”Clark/Baby Superman”) reads as a complete cardboard-cutout monster cliche. Why did he kill Pa and Ma Kent? No reason is even alluded to. He just kills them because they’re there.

(If I were writing this, I would have played up the naive-creepy-child factor. Have Clark accidentally kill Jonathan Kent since he’s a child who doesn’t know his own strength and has never seen a dead person before. If you want to keep the alien-vibe, have him not recognize that he killed a person. Imagine a kid using a magnifying glass on an ant, then replace the ant with Pa and Ma Kent. I like to think that would have been more memorable.)

Man’s World (feat Wonder Woman; by Mary Sangiovanni)

Well, they definitely have the aesthetic they were going for. The mixed chronology is actually not as confusing as I was expecting since the artists made good use of the colors and a wardrobe change to help guide the reader through the flashbacks. I actually felt creeped out by this one.

The only problem is...this doesn’t read like Diana AT ALL. Having Diana not speak English is a great way to keep her menacing, but it also destroys any ability for the audience to know what’s going on in her head. Without her words, we have only her actions, and...she’s just going around killing people? Who haven’t done anything?? (Except the last guy, but he’s one out of six on-page deaths.)

What is her motivation? Why is she doing these things? What happened to Wonder Woman, righteous warrior and defender of the innocent?

(This would have been excellent if it was a villain character instead of Diana, just saying.)

Crazy for You (feat Harley Quinn; by Bryan Smith and Brian Keene)

Is it a ghost? Or is it a hallucination? Both? I’m not sure, and I love that I’m not sure.

That said, I’m definitely not a Harley expert...does she read in-character? I don’t know, she feels flat to me. And something about cutting hard away from witnessing the murders. Unreliable narrator is in effect, I want more concrete details of the murders from Chuck’s point of view.

Last Laugh (feat Batman; by Nick Cutter)

Ha. Hahaha. This is the one I reblogged panels from yesterday. 

Good things first: capitalizing on Batman-Joker parallels has been done since forever, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I think the opening and closing scenes are well-narrated and well-composed. The much smaller batcave and the gun are good hints that something’s very different about this universe. The Joker’s voice was pretty good, for the most part. I wouldn’t change much of anything in the first half of this.

The second half...hahaha.

My beef with this one isn’t that Jason was killed; it was that he was killed for shock value and as an undisguised reference to super-(in)famous Death in the Family. It does not add constructively to the narrative at all. Last Laugh is clearly a hard AU with only the barest resemblance to canon; leaning so hard on canon that you only have one panel (technically two panels) with Jason in your story means that I just get angry instead of mournfully distraught when Jason is killed. It’s cheap and unearned in my opinion.

More broadly, there’s mixed signals as to the nature of Bruce’s delusion. Is he going around beating/killing people dressed as Batman? Or does he do his murders specifically dressed as the Joker? The later red panels indicate the former while the zoom-in on his locker at the end implies the latter. This whole story would have been much stronger if the writer had picked one interpretation and stuck with it from beginning to end.

(I would go with a strong Batman/Joker divide where Batman is still the vigilante and the Joker is the only “one” doing the crimes. Have the blue and red panels read as Batman vs Joker for most of the first read-through, but also have them consistently show Delusion vs Truth for the second read-through. I would also have Joker’s call-outs be a little more ambiguous so the twist actually sneaks up on you as opposed to be super obvious from the first red panel on.

And goddamn, if you’re going to kill Jason, at least have him show up in the narrative beforehand as Robin in the Delusion panel and ordinary-child-Jason in the Truth panel. Have him walk in on something he shouldn’t have, which leads to his murder and Bruce’s subsequent final mental break. Hell, maybe even imply that Robin was never really a thing outside Bruce’s head to really hammer home the death of a child who did nothing wrong.

Work for the tragedy, is all I’m saying.)

Blackest Day (feat Hal Jordan and Justice League; by Brian Keene)

In my opinion, this is the strongest of the lot. Zombie Barry compromising the moon base - because he was looking for help and didn’t realize he was already doomed - is excellent. And terrifying, because Zombie Barry could start the apocalypse by himself, imagine how many people he could bite in a minute. Liked how Hal held onto hope all the way up until he felt himself changing, then decided to take a Last Stand rather than let himself become part of the problem.

Superman being off-planet was cheap. The timeline for the End of the World seems super contracted based on Constantine’s transmission and the way the moon base was wholly in the dark. Wonder Woman and J’onn died very easily. Would have liked more fighting off the zombies, but this was short enough that there wasn’t a lot of time for that.

Having the World actually End...I’m never a fan of complete annihilation by zombies. (And what about Themyscira? Atlantis? Is DC Earth really completely depopulated?)

(I’m just saying, post-zombie-apocalypse AU. I’d read it.)

Unmasked (feat Two Face; by Wrath James White...that’s a weird name)

I think this one’s the weakest of the ones I read. I may not be the most well-read when it comes to Havey/Two-Face, but ugh. Serial Killer Harvey is something I don’t need in an official AU. Not to mention that that is not how skinning a person works - connective tissue between the skin and the muscle would mean that peeling each face would take way more time than shown. 

The Leviathan thing also takes up way too many panels and accomplishes nothing. NOTHING.