#dragonsworn05 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jwritesandrambles · 3 years

Text

“Supposed to Be”

Hi there! Yeah I still barely use tumblr but hey lookit I did the wrote thing down!!!!

I would like to give a bit thank you to @schweeeppess and @dragonsworn05 for editing my messy dyslexic rambles. @noroomforcream and @just-a-little-in-over-my-head did some really cool art for this!

(if I missed tagging someone, it’s not personal I appreciate you so much, I’m just posting in a rush mwauh)

Jason was back in Gotham. For the second time since he died, actually.

The last time hadn’t gone well. Technically, it had gone according to plan--for the most part--but Jason was still shambling together the broken pieces of his mind. Back then in December, all that was left of Jason were the shards of hurt and anger. He had been living for nothing but the idea of someone else’s death. Coming back to the real world, away from the sheltered and hidden places of the League of Shadows and the All-Caste, seemed to bring a bit of him back. Seeing Bruce, talking to him…everything that went down, and the reminder that he cared about him--loved him, even--it woke something up in Jason. Something that he thought had died along with him and never came back.

He had spent a year by himself, taking any mercenary jobs he could get, trying to find something other than the all consuming anger that had fuelled him for the past few years, but his travels didn’t matter now, as he stood in a back alley of Gotham, the protective red helmet tucked under his arm. He wished his replacement, Tim Drake, hadn’t chosen this particular alley to meet up in.

The balcony and rickety old fire escape were unforgettable to Jason. It was where he had met the Bat, after trying to jack the tires off one of those many damn expensive cars that Bruce had. Not only where it began, but where he once thought it would end. It was only a year ago he had stood, gun trained on Bruce, the man he had, for a time, called father. His voice shook and tears rolled down his cheeks, “it would be so easy to kill you.”

Jason was ripped from his reminiscing as a soft thud signaled that Red Robin had landed behind him. Jason flinched more than he’d like to admit, but fought the urge to draw his weapon. Quick reflexes was a nice way of saying jumpy.

“Hood,” The teen greeted.

“Replacement,” Jason said with a nod, echoing Tim’s tone back at him, relaxing.

“Weren’t you a replacement too?” Tim pointed out, seeming to take no offence.

Jason shrugged, “True. I’m not denying it. Just as long as you know that’s probably what B expects. Another Grayson,” he mumbled.

Sure, he was less angry than before, but that didn’t mean Jason wasn’t a bitter son of a bitch.

Tim bit the inside of his lip, an awkward and slightly uncomfortable look on the visible part of his face. It flickered away and was replaced with a more professional, neutral expression as he cleared his throat.

“Yes... well... We’re here for a job so let’s focus. You got all the information B sent you?” He was honestly trying his best, but he was hesitant about this mission. Could anyone blame him? Jason Todd had proven himself to be... volatile. The memories of Jason’s violence were all too fresh in Tim’s mind.

“Yeah, I got it. I read the file over,” he mumbled. He puffed out a weak breath, “Scarecrow set up a chemical mixing shop by the docks, at least one shipment has come in, but we can expect more, right? Anything I missed?” Jason asked, rummaging through his coat pockets.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He had been trying to quit, but he didn’t want to be getting distracted with cravings while trying to focus on the mission.

Tim watched him quietly as he lit off, smelling the tobacco from up on his perch.

“Um... yes, that’s all,” the teen dragged his teeth along the edge of his lip. The skin felt slightly raw and sore from his empty minded nibbling.

Jason started walking off down the alley, leaving a slight trail of lingering smoke in damp air. Tim followed.

“So,” Jason pulled the cigarette from his lips, careful not to let his helmet slip from under his arm. He held it between his first and second fingers, “Uh.. Why’d you have us meet here instead of anywhere closer to the docks?” He asked, trying to break the awkwardly growing silence.

“Scarecrow has patrols circulating around the docks. We’re less likely to be spotted if we’re not waiting around there to meet up,” Tim explains with a little shrug.

Jason hummed a brief note of understanding, “Oh yeah, that makes sense. I’m, uh, I haven’t worked with anyone in... years,” Jason paused, taking another drag from the smouldering cigarette, “Y’know, really nothing team oriented since working with B. Even then I was a shitty teammate,” he laughed hollowly.

Tim nodded, thinking about what Jason’d just said. Had it really been that long? Maybe… maybe the fact that Jason was even admitting to being a bad teammate didn’t bode well. It could mean trouble for them later. If it was so obvious that even Jason could admit it, perhaps Tim shouldn’t have done this team-up.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Tim ran to catch up to Jason quickly, “Wait... how old are you?” He asked upon reaching him.

“I’m t- uh... hold on, well... how long was I gone?” He asked Tim in return.

“You were thought to be dead for five years,” Tim told him, in a tone like he was reciting a Wikipedia page written about the formally deceased, wayward Wayne boy. Now that Jason thought of it, he was certain Bruce had a file written up on him now. Bruce had written up for every major criminal in Gotham city.

Jason let out a low whistle and soft huff, “I must be… twenty one now? Weird.”

“So... you didn't know how old you were till now?” Tim raised a brow, causing the mask to shift.

“Yeaahh,” Jason drew the word out sarcastically, pretending to took him deep thought to reconcile. “Somethin’ about the severe head trauma, dying, comin’ back, and being isolated from the normal world for years, all while being a wreck the whole time seems to have made my memory a lil’ fuzzy,” Jason said with a wry, sarcastic smile.

Tim seethed silently, letting out a series of apologetic mumbles, eyes dropping to ground ahead of him- it was a tactless and rude thing to ask, and Tim should’ve known that!

Jason laughed weakly, hand quickly coming up towards him and... ruffled Tim’s hair? The boy hadn’t even had a chance to recoil. He was just confused; that was the last thing he’d expect from Jason.

The man stubbed out his cigarette and lumbered on ahead of Tim, dropping it in the trash, “Don’t worry about it, kid. I was just being a bitch, you’re fine.”

Tim opened and closed his mouth, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. A man who tried to kill him only a year ago had just ruffled his hair?! He decided not to comment on it, because-- after all--what the hell could he even say?

Tim cleared his throat again, “We should get into position, we’re almost there. Maybe get your, uh, helmet-thingy on?” He suggested.

Jason glanced at the helmet- he’d almost forgotten he had it tucked under his arm.

“Yeah, of course,” Jason said, lifting his helmet and plunking it on his head, “good reminder, Timbers.” His voice became modulated the second the helmet covered his head. His low, gravely, smokers growl of a voice, was nowhere near and deep and gravely as Bruce’s--but sounded like it took a step closer with every box of cigarettes--became a pitch lower still. An odd robotic twang edged his words, giving him a metallic, cyber sound.

Tim adjusted his own mask, making sure it was firmly in place before nodding to Jason. The two silently started up again, approaching a warehouse that was supposed to be locked until the next morning’s shipment. “Supposed to be” being the operative words. Instead, there was muted huffing and shuffling as two of Scarecrow’s workers uncomfortably hauled a large crate into the building.

Both Jason and Tim seemed to shrink into the shadows at the same instant; each becoming one with the wall. Jason drew his weapon quietly, earning a disapproving frown from Tim. “I’m not gonna kill them. Chill,” Jason whispered in that odd robotic voice.

Tim seemed satisfied enough to quit pouting at Jason. They crept closer, making little dashes between hiding spots when the coast was clear.

Jason let out a breath of curse as his eyes fell about the giant, glass, canister. It was filled with a bubbling, sickly, arsenic green substance.

“No way, that shit is all fear toxin? Fuck! He’s got enough to blast the entire downtown!” His voice came through in a synthesized hiss.

“Worse.” Tim whispered, spying the large pressurizer on top of the glass container. “That’s just the liquid form. When he releases it, it’ll be gaseous. If it’s released from the container from a high vantage point, a small breeze could cover the entire city in minutes.”

The severity of the situation washed over what little of Tim’s features were visible from beneath the mask.

This wasn’t just a quick little in and out operation anymore. One wrong move and there could have a small, yet very messy, catastrophic outcome.

Tim had to plan this carefully, because there was no way they could afford to mess this up.

He turned to Jason...or, rather, where Jason had just been seconds before.

Jason had evidently had a similar train of thought to Tim’s. He’d realized this was a serious situation, though, instead of drawing the conclusion to re-evaluate, re-plan, and carry on with caution, or something sensible-- he seemingly forgot any sense of subtlety he had. Oh, God forbid carefully thinking his actions out, like any sane rational person would do. Or calling for backup, like anyone with a vague semblance of self-preservation. No no, instead, Jason had decided it was best to act now and not waste a second with plans or any ideas of safety. He jumped into action.

Jason was already leaping over the crate the two vigilantes had been hiding behind seconds ago, as Tim let out a quiet imploring hiss of “Wait--oh no-”“ but it was too late.

Jason already had his gun drawn.

“Scarecrow!” he yelled, “this ends now!” He fired at the box the two workers were carrying, sending it out of their hands and clattering to the floor. A series of shattering followed the initial crash as the contents shattered. Whatever chemicals that had been inside hissed loudly, a faint smoke rising from between the boards of the wooden box.

“Hood!?” The Scarecrow rounded to face who he knew as the ex-criminal, ‘The Red Hood.’

“In the flesh.” Jason kept his gun trained on Scarecrow, while a third worker who had been off to the side started to shuffle his way towards him.

“Thought you moved your little operation away from Gotham when the Bats got the better of you,” Scarecrow commented, not seeming pleased about the interruption at all.

Scarecrow’s worker lunged at Jason. Tim kicked himself mentally and left hiding, kicking the worker --physically, not mentally this time-- back away from Jason. The third worker scuttled back, apparently deciding this altercation was above his pay grade.

Jason felt something he hadn’t really felt in a long time; it was a feeling akin to camaraderie. He had someone watching his back for once. If the circumstances hadn’t been so dire, he might have even cracked a smile. Or, rather, he might have felt a slight tug at the corner of his lips, at least.

“Well, yeah, the bats did get the best of me. Now I’m tryna give them my best. And that involves bootin’ your sorry ass out of here.”

“Quick witted, aren’t you?” Scarecrow tensed slightly. His eyes darted away from behind his mask for a moment. He was glancing to the side. Tim followed his gaze over to the-

Shit! The canister! If the bullet missed Scarecrow it would-

Tim knew what scarecrow was thinking, but it was too late.

“NO!” Tim shouted, helplessly watching as Scarecrow dove.

As expected, Jason pulled the trigger reflexively, but the Scarecrow had already ducked. The bullet made a resounding bang as it fired, hitting the large gas canister.

Tim seized up, every nerve buzzing, every muscle tensed, every fibre of his being filled with an awful sinking sensation. The room was deadly-still. It was like something written by the hand of a fool-hardy novelist, who was paid far too much for over-the-top paperbacks; The bullet had embedded itself in the glass, acting like a stopper. A sickening series of cracks emanated from the canisters, as a thin spidery web formed across the glass. All tendrils originating from where the bullet hit.

Jason let out a low whistle, “Well. That coulda been disastrous.”

Tim couldn’t help but feel relieved, a stressed laugh escaping his lips.

Scarecrow was scampering away, his workers already having pulled a quick disappearing act themselves, because, this wasn’t what he’d planned.

“Don’t even think about it, Crane,” Jason said as he turned, taking a heavy step.

Said heavy step was apparently too much. The glass gave a shuttering groan, followed by a small hiss as gas began to leak.

Tim made an involuntary distressed sound. Something akin to an exhausted sigh mixed with a whimper.

The one word that ever so eloquently graced Jason’s lips was, “Fuck.”

And the canister...

Burst.

The pressure placed on the glass had built up and could no longer hold.

Jason’s final step had been the breaking point, the spider work of cracks along the glass giving way with a great shatter.

Shards of the canister flung themselves across the room. The liquid that had been held within instantly began vaporizing into a thick, sickening gas. To anyone that had the misfortune of inhaling it, it felt as though the gas was trying --with every atom of its existence-- to choke the life out of its victim. It reached into their lungs, clawed at their insides, grabbing at their desperately beating hearts, and squeezed. It forced their brain to fill their body with adrenaline and hallucinogens. Tim knew this.

He’d studied the Scarecrow’s fear toxin many times. He’d been exposed to it before, too. Tim knew this fear and knew he was helpless to do anything about it.

Tim was helpless to stop this. He had failed. He’d failed Bruce. He’d failed this mission. Because he was weak. He was weak, helpless, hopeless, a failure, a burden, unwanted. He was nothing more than a replaceable replacement. No one would care if he was gone, God, it’s not like anyone would ever notice! He was a forgettable nothing. Tim coughed and wheezed. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe!

Tim staggered. He tripped over his feet trying to get away from the intense fear that gripped his throat. Tim realized something physical was gripping his neck. The thing dragged him back roughly, towards what he could only assume was something horrid. Tim clawed at the thing gripping his throat. As he gasped for shuddering breath, he couldn’t help but begin to sob. He was going to die. He would die and no one would care. No one would even try to find him when he didn’t come home, they wouldn’t even notice because he was worthless, replaceable, weak, failure, helpless!

A new level of fear washed over Tim as he felt something cover his face, it encased his head. Tim could feel it squeeze his skull, he swore the pressure felt tight enough to crush his cranium like a tin can. It was claustrophobic. He felt his own shallow breath bounce back against his lips, because it had nowhere else to go. He was trapped and suffocating.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t BREATHE! OH--oh, oh no... no? Wait a moment... he COULD breathe.

Tim took a moment to try to get his bearings. He needed to remember how his lungs worked. He awkwardly sucked in a breath of filtered, recycled air. It tasted tinny on his tongue. Tim blinked the tears from his eyes. They rolled down his cheeks, and he became aware of the taste of salt too. There was the faint scent of stale tobacco and smoke. His mind was reeling as he processed each detail. He dragged tongue over his lips nervously, and began to chew at his bottom lip. Tim’s heart was still pounding and his hands were shaking. He raised his hands to feel his head, glancing at his twitching fingers as they passed in front of his face, confusedly. Everything had a red tinge to it. He pressed his hands to his head, feeling a hard smooth surface.

Tim’s brain felt slow and groggy, taking a moment to clue into what was on his head. Was it Jason’s helmet? Yes, yes it was Jason’s helmet, that was certain, but where was Jason?

The thick gas still hung in a green fog, but the helmet seemed to be filtering the worst of it out. Tim swept his arm though the air, watching the gas clear slightly, before swooping in to fill the gaps. Tim knew he needed to thin this stuff out if he wanted to have any hope in finding Jason before tripping over him. He rushed through the room, feeling his way over to the door. Scarecrow’s men had closed it, containing them --and more importantly the gas-- inside. Small mercy the fear toxin wasn’t being released on the city though.

Tim dragged his fingers along the wall. His senses were so heightened that it was almost overstimulating. It was likely due to the toxin, Tim guessed. He could still feel the rough brick as he scraped along, even through the tips of his gloves. It was oddly reassuring. A steady constant he could focus on until -thunk- His hand bumped into a smooth metallic protrusion from the wall. Exactly what Tim had been looking for.

“Bingo.”

Tim swept his other arm through the air again, doing his best to fan the gass away for him to get a bit of a better view of what he was hoping to see. A metal switch box, old and slightly rusted around the edges. Tim had been counting on any wearhouse by the docks having a ventilation system to keep the products safe from humidity. Of course, he was right. With some difficulty, Tim wrenched the switch box open. After straining to read faded, dusty labels through the gas in the air, he flipped what he hoped was the right switch.

There was a small whine of aching metal that hadn’t moved in a long time and Tim cracked into a grin underneath the helmet.

He’d done it!

The fans kicked into a regular pace. The smooth ‘whoomp whoomp whoomp’ of turning blades filled Tim with a sense of muted triumph. The foggy haze of fear gas began to thin as the building began to filter it out, mixing it with the humid air. Tim figured it would be condensed and drip out to puddle with the dirty water in the alley behind the warehouse. If Tim was right, which he usually was, it wouldn’t harm anyone unless they decided to drink from the puddle water. Which was unlikely, but not impossible. It was Gotham after all.

Tim looked around the room as the gas dissipated. His gaze found its way to a shaking heap on the floor next to the shattered remains of the canister he had been standing before. The proud grin faded from Tim’s lips.

That... that wasn’t a good sign at all.

“Hey, um, hood? Red hood, status?” He asked, the words felt strange as they left his mouth. Hearing his own modulated voice echo slightly in the room felt vaguely surreal.

The heap of muscle and leather known as Jason didn’t reply.

Seeing Jason’s twitching body on the floor emptied a hollow pit in Tim’s stomach. Jason had never seemed like he was even capable of fear. Capable of rage, capable of hurt, and capable of pain, sure, but fear seemed like something Tim would’ve assumed Jason was beyond. Something so... innate, that the unnatural nature of Jason’s second life would’ve swept it away.

Tim made his way over, hesitantly rolling the helmet forward off his head. The fear toxin seemed to be thin enough now that it wasn’t harming him.

“Ja-er, Jason?” Tim’s soft voice seemed thunderously loud in the quiet room. The only other sounds around were the fans quietly whirring away and, far more disturbingly in his opinion, the even quieter shaking breaths and distressed whimpering tumbling from Jason’s lips.

Jason was not in good shape. He was shaking violently, hands over his head. His whimpers were punctuated by violent spasms that racked his body every few seconds, accompanied with a louder more pronounced cry.

Tim felt the colour drain from his face. He quickly kneeled down, setting the helmet on the concrete floor next to them both with a slight clink. Tim grabbed Jason’s arm, trying to turn him on to his back. Jason heftily flailed the arm Tim pulled, unintentionally hitting Tim in the face. Tim yelped in surprise as a sharp pain sprung from his nose, warm liquid leaking down his face. The blood pouring down his face didn’t deter Tim much, the blood coursing through him seeming to do the opposite for pain as it did the rest of his senses. The pain was slightly numbed--or, rather, it had become easy to ignore. He fought to wrangle both of Jason’s arms, quickly scrambling to sit on Jason’s torso, struggling to pin Jason’s arms down with his legs.

Tim took off his mask. He knew it was against protocol, but an un-obscured face was easier to recognize when the toxin took hold, in Tim’s experience.

“Jason? Jason, look at me. Can you hear me?” he asked quickly, holding on to Jason’s shoulders. He desperately hoped Jason wouldn’t throw him off. Jason’s eyes were unfocused, spinning around wildly all over the room.

Tim tried to process Jason’s words, “No, not again, ple--I can’t I--it hurts! Fuck! It hurts,” Jason’s words became incomprehensible for a moment, then his fists clenched tightly. “I don’t want to die! Not again. Not again not again not again! He’s gotta come save me, take me home, he’s gotta! Shit, not again!“ he choked and broke off with a shout and another full body jerk.

Tim was jostled but didn’t fall off, by some miracle. “Jason!” he tried. “Listen to me!” Tim put his hands on either of Jason’s face. Jason flinched away from Tim’s touch with a sob of “It hurts, it hurts, I can hear all my bones snapping, I’m dying, it’s crushing me, I can’t--I can’t--”

“I know,” Tim cut him off gently, “I know it hurts and--and you’re scared, but you’re not alone, I’m right here. I’m going to help you,” Tim tried to catch Jason’s focus.

Jason’s roaming eyes stopped dodging around the room, and turned towards Tim. He kept looking from Tim’s shoulders, Tim’s chest, back up to his face and then to his eyes and back to his chest again. Perhaps not the ideal image of calming down but it was a first step.

“Good,” Tim praised softly in relief. He ran his thumbs over Jason’s cheeks gently. Now more so than ever did Tim take notice of the scars on either side of Jason’s face. On Jason’s left cheek, there was a jagged line that traced from his cheek bone down to his jaw. A similar yet smaller one was mirrored on Jason’s right. Tim could understand why Jason flinched from him. He shook the thought from his mind, “See? We’re okay. Just try to breathe, in and out. You can do that, right, Jason?”

“No! No! I c-can’t, I’m crushed, I can’t. My--my lungs, they’re all full of blood, and mud, and dirt, and fuckin’ I dunno what!” Another violent thrash went through Jason’s body, almost toppling Tim off this time. “I can’t breathe, it hurts! I want it to stop hurting! How do I make it stop!?”

“Uah--yeah, I know it hurts, but I promise nothing is crushing you. It’s just me, I’m light, and I’m here and I--I know it hurts I’m going to try to make it stop but I need to--” Jason thrashed, but Tim didn’t relinquish his hold on him, “--but I NEED you to stay still!”

Jason’s eyes finally locked on to Tim’s, “M-make it s-stop?” he echoed back to the smaller vigilante.

“Yeah, yeah I’m going to try to make it stop.” Tim slowly pulled his hands away from Jason, sitting back slightly, starting to fish through the many pockets and pouches attached to the strap around his waist.

He almost always had the antidote on hand. Bruce had trained him and prepared him meticulously, making certain that Tim would be ready with everything they had at all costs. The only issue was it was enough antidote for him; almost seventeen, about a head shorter and ninety pounds lighter--nowhere near enough antitoxin for the two hundred and forty pounds of murder that was the shaking mass of Jason Todd slumped before him.

Jason dropped his head back against the concrete floor, beginning to mutter once again.

“My fault. All my fault. I can’t--all dead.”

“No one is dead, Jason, everyone is okay,” Tim said, soon after feeling a small surge of triumph as he located his field fear toxin antidote kit. He opened it, quickly pulling out a small vial, and a syringe.

Jason’s eyes snapped to the syringe in Tim’s hand as he filled with antidote. Jason grew quiet for a second before starting to try to fight Tim off of him, “No, no no no no no no! Don’t go! don’t go! Not again, I can’t be alone, can’t be asleep he’s gonna kill us. Dad said he’ll get rid’f his mistakes!”

Tim knew Bruce wouldn’t have ever threatened Jason like that. He could only assume Jason meant his biological father.

“Said he would--don’t, don’t! It’s crushing me I can’t be alone!” Jason couldn’t keep hold of his own fears. They ran together, all mixed in to become some dread filled nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

Tim was lucky Jason was so sloppy in this state. If he’d had a bit more of his wits about him, Tim figured Jason would’ve easily shaken him off already.

“You aren’t alone!” Tim reminded Jason, struggling to inject Jason without hurting him. “This is going to make it stop, I promise!” Well, that wasn’t fully true. But the dose would reduce it.

When Jason wouldn’t hold still enough for him to properly gauge where the vein he needed was, Tim unceremoniously jabbed at where he hoped it was instead.

Jason shouted, thrashing around like a heavy shark in a net being lifted out of water.

Tim pulled the empty syringe away quickly, letting Jason throw him off. He stumbled and crashed back down, landing on the concrete floor a few feet away. Tim only now realized how heavy his breath was as he watched Jason writhe freely on the floor before him. As Tim caught his breath, Jason’s movements gradually began to slow. The mutterings of fear faded into soft whimpers, then into deep breaths like Tim’s. Tim bit at his lip again. “Jason?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.

Jason groaned in response. He took a moment to collect himself as he grew conscious of reality again. Really, reality was a shit hole too, but it was a better shit hole. He shifted slightly, cussing under his breath.

Tim felt an invisible weight lift from his shoulders; swearing like a sailor was promising in Jason’s case.

He quickly scooted across the floor to him.

“Hey,” Tim said in a hushed voice. “Jason? How you feeling?”

Jason--with what felt like the struggle of Sisyphus rolling his boulder for the millionth time--rolled over to face him. The white shock of hair stuck to Jason’s forehead with panic induced sweat. He puffed out a lungful of air in a feeble attempt to blow the hair from his face. Jason swiftly gave up on that and swallowed heavily.

“I-I... yeah, yeah, I uh... I--okay. I’m feeling okay,” Jason rambled, looking dazed. He took up scanning the room again, hyper-vigilant to any danger.

Tim nodded slowly. He grabbed a water bottle that was shoved in one of his many pouches. He helped Jason sit up, just enough so he could sip at the water, and forced the bottle into Jason’s hands.

“Drink,” Tim ordered, quietly.

Jason’s hands still shook lightly, causing him to fumble with the cap in his hands.

Now that the danger had passed, Tim finally had time to process what had happened; he often found himself acting and only having time to absorb the details afterwards. Details like that Jason had traded his safety and immunity for Tim’s.

Why did Jason do that?

“Not... that I’m ungrateful,” Tim began hesitantly, “but that was a stupid thing to do, just… now- today,” he stumbled out awkwardly.

“I know,” gasped Jason after a long chug of water, a weak smile on his lips.

“I mean--it’s like in those before flight messages on planes. Put your mask on before the baby’s or whatever,” Tim joked slightly. Tim’s nose wrinkled slightly, cringing just the tiniest bit as he realized he implied he was the baby in this situation, “Well, you know what I’m getting at…”

Jason seemed to only take even more amusement out of the teen’s regret. Tim never thought he’d see the day where he felt tension draining at the sigh of Jason Todd, a man that tried to kill him and about eighty other people, smiling.

Jason laughed weakly, though it came out a little haltingly, as the shivering shakes hadn’t yet subsided. “Yeah, well, I d-did have my mask on. I just... gave it to the k-kid before the plane went down,” he mused. He didn’t really believe in his own point, and shook his head.

“No, no you’re right. It was stupid and I know that.”

They fell into a slightly awkward silence for a second, the burning question still gnawing at Tim’s mind.

“Why?” Tim said, abruptly. “Er, why did you do that? If you knew it was stupid?”

Jason didn’t answer for a long moment. Instead stalling by taking another swig of water. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before answering.

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted, with a little smile.

Jason was breathing heavily, but seemed more focused, “I didn’t... really think. Maybe I was just makin’ up for other stuff I f-fucked up or... dunno. I guess I j-just... I knew if one of us was gonna be safe, it had to be y-ou.”

Jason swore he could practically see the little loading sign twirl in Tim’s nerd-brain as the teen processed what he’d said. The mental loading bar filled, and Jason’s words seemed to click. Tim’s eyes dropped away, and he smiled a little shyly. Not an awkward or uncomfortable smile. Just complimented.

“Thanks,” Tim’s voice was just above a whisper, “ that was... really nice of you.”

“It’s okay, don’t men-ention it. Like literally ever. It’ll ruin my rep,” Jason cracked a teasing smirk once again and Tim got to his feet laughing lightly.

“Annnnddd he’s back to normal,” Tim chuckled and offered Jason a hand. Tim yanked him, not without obvious difficulty, up to stand tall. Jason leaned on him for a moment before straightening, keeping a hand on Tim’s shoulder to steady himself. Tim quickly bent down and scooped up their masks from the floor where he’d set them down.

“Let’s get you home,” Tim hummed, putting Jason’s arm around his shoulders again when he stood.

“Hey, I’m fin-ne, you don’t have to take me back,” Jason argued, but Tim was already starting to lead him away.

“Too bad, I decided I am.”

“Rep-placement Robin number whatever you are--I am fine!”

“Sure you are, that’s why you can’t stand up right by yourself?”

“Shut up!”

“I speak only truth.”

The two bickered all the way back through away from the docks. All the way back through the city. All the way until they reached Jason’s apartment complex. Then they bickered some more. Though neither knew it yet, what had begun forming was the beginning of a close bond. One that nothing would be able to break.

#batman #robin #jason todd #redhood #red hood #Tim Drake #red robin #batfam big bang 2021 #Just for Fun #idk how tumblr works

26 notes · View notes

stormcrawler75 · 4 years

Note

Oohh if it isn't already been prompted, Allergic Reaction with Virgil and Logan? V with the reaction to.... whatever! Love your writing!!! -An important fae who ghosts around tumblr (previously known as the nonimportant fae who ghosts around tumblr)

Warnings: Allergic Reaction, Hives

Characters: Logan, Virgil, Remus, and mentions of Janus.

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

Logan grunted as he woke up late at night, rubbing at his eyes weakly. Virgil was cuddled close in his arms with the smaller man’s face pressed against Logan’s collarbone. It was a very quiet night and even their infant son was fast asleep in the crib beside their bed. There was absolutely no reason for Logan to be awake and it annoyed him to no end that he was. But sadly, there was nothing Logan could do now. Once he was awake, there was nothing that he could do to get back to sleep.

And it had been such a good sleep too. Dreamless - as far as Logan remembered - and lovely. Logan sighed and reached out blindly to the bedside table, slapping his palm gently against the surface until he found his glasses and pushed them onto his face. The room came more into focus, the moonlight coming through the window lighting it up. Logan glanced over to the nearby crib and softened when he was his son that he and Virgil had adopted just a few weeks ago holding his bright green octopus stuffy tightly. Logan’s lips quirked into a warm smile. For one brief moment, he considered getting out of bed, taking Remus and going downstairs to sit in the rocking chair. Perhaps read a book of fairy tales to the boy.

But then Logan remembered how much and for how long Remus had cried when Virgil had accidentally woken him up during his nap the day before and decided against it.

“You are so cute when you are sleeping, my star child,” Logan whispered softly with a fond smile on his lips. He tensed when Remus shifted, internally wishing that the baby would stay sleeping, only relaxing when Remus drifted back off. Logan sighed and glanced down to Virgil, whispering softly, “I am so happy and relieved that he’s sleeping through the night now, Darling. I love our son but I love getting a good night’s sleep almost as much.” He rubbed his hand up and down Virgil's spine gently, chuckling softly when Virgil curled closer to him. “Perhaps we can call your brother tomorrow and he can take Remus for the,” he trailed off, a spark of terror going through him.

There was a lump on Virgil’s lower back.

The grogginess that had been clouding Logan’s vision immediately cleared, replaced with a stark sense of panic. Lumps, what did lumps mean? Tumours, hernias, cancer? “Virgil,” Logan whispered, shaking him gently. “Virgil, wake up.”

Virgil groaned, pulling away from him and rolling away. “Go away,” he whined, giving Logan a gentle kick. “Go ‘way, Lo, it’s night time.”

Logan reached out to give Virgil another shake before pausing. Now that Logan could see Virgil’s back clearly he could see that it wasn’t just one lump. It was several, all spread across Virgil’s lower back and Logan could see the start of some on Virgil’s sides too. And they weren’t lumps at all, they were hives. Virgil was having an allergic reaction.

“Dearest,” Logan whispered, shaking his shoulder gently, still alert and panicked. He racked his mind, trying to think of something that could’ve caused this. “Dearest, what did you eat yesterday? Did you take any medicine?”

“I ate everything you ate,” Virgil groaned, swatting at his hand. “And just the penicillin for the root canal that I had last week.”

Logan paused. He remembered that his younger cousin had a penicillin allergy and her symptoms looked very, very similar to Virgil’s. A late reaction, perhaps? Either way, this was not something they could put off until morning. “Virgil, you have to wake up. You’re having an allergic reaction.” He leaned over and hissed through his teeth at the slight swelling in Virgil’s cheeks. “And a bad one at that.”

Immediately, Virgil was awake and looking at Logan with wide eyes. “Allergic reaction? What?” He glanced down at his bare stomach and paled when he saw the hives. His breath hitched and his hands started to tremble.

“Shhhh, Dearest, it’ll be alright,” Logan promised, taking his hands and squeezing gently. “I will get ready for a drive to the hospital. Call your brother and ask him to take Remus for the night, okay?”

“Okay,” Virgil whispered shakily, sitting up and reaching for his phone.

Logan took a calming breath, standing up and walking over to Remus, picking him up gently along with his baby blanket and octopus stuffy. “Shhhh,” he cooed when the baby started to crack his eyes open, swaying back and forth, “Shhh, it’s alright, Sweetheart. We’re just going for a little drive, that’s all. There we go, go back to sleep. No, don’t wake up, please go back to sleep.” Logan sighed in relief when Remus’ eyes slipped back closed. “Good, good,” he whispered. “Let’s get you in the car seat and Uncle Janus will meet us at the hospital.”

Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too long of a stay.

General Taglist

@mooniecoockie

@all-eyes-on-you-forever

@engineering-a-better-world

@hermitcreature

@punsterterry

@iris-sanders-athena

@heck-im-lost

@the-v-gees

@tiredfluid

@sevenatee

@i-really-dig-the-purple

@detroit-become-pan

@trust-me-i-just-get-weirder

@radioactivehelena

@max-is-tired

@unikornavenger

@amazonprimebox

@emmydragon

@thegaypasta

@lunareclipse-524

@thepotatoking1010

@bleepblopbloop56

@world-class-izzy

@violetsandpride

@smolautumnchild

@sanderssmosh-n-musicals

@cookiethedevil

@satanblessi

@figurative-falsehood

@crookedlyoptimisticdestiny

@ao-koshka

@onenightjoanly

@alsoyouremischievous

@figurative-falsehood

@mrtacothethird

@analogical-mess

@combine-the-kitchens

@knight-shives

@the-office-cat

@dark-kestrel

@lizziepopanime

@razberrypuck

@kastrefeila

@lilcutekittykat

@ladyonce

@penguinpatty1502

@analogical-mess

@incorrectqueereye

@liz-a-belle

@imjustawibba

@remy-alagaesias-dragon-queen

@fandoms-winkitywonk

@therubyjailcell

@angels-and-dreams

@europa-bear

@pumpkinminette

@viva-la-pluto-dam-you

@ravens-rambling

@felicianoromano

@artemispowell

@phander-trash

@felicianoromano

@maehemscorpyus

@the-anti-virgil

@georganabanana

@kaileah-kat

@omg-rainbowgalxy-things

@chemically-imbalanced-romance

@just-another-rainbowblog

@asymmetricalgarbage8888

@imtooaromaticforthis

@ambersky0319

@th3okamid3mon

@atomicljamm92

@lovebug5151

@shadowsfromthesun

@justpicturesofsam

@fuck-perfection-be-a-mess

@dragonsworn05

@entitydark

@sparkedawg

@luckybanana948

@holliberries

@hell-or-high-waters

@paint-in-flames

@purplepatton

@opaque-puppet

@pearl-topaz

@that-smol-tired-gay

@tired-fanboy

@rachel-eve-puppet

@the-psycho-pie

@the-warfstache-of-wall-street

@pastel-puns

@shadowjag

@saphirestrike

@theatresweetheart

@gatlily

@pastelpatton

@agoddamnrayofsunshine

@ps-reblogs

@tacohippy56900

@anxious-fander-bean

@winterknight1087

@moonfang03

@that-random-fandom-girl

@cricks-loves-you

@teacupfulofstarshine

@hetaisawesome

@lilylunalovegood2002

@silverviolin069

@bubbliee0

@demigodnamedathena

@donalev

@flix-net

@sos-fandoms

@writingfeedsthedarkestones

@leesacrakon

@clone-number-1

@ninja-wizard101

@never-end1ng-suffering

@all-bridges-will-burn

@theresneverenoughfandoms

#Storm writes #Logan Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Remus Sanders #Analogical #tw Allergy reaction #tw hives #Bad Things Happen Bingo #Anonymous

280 notes · View notes

largeballz · 4 years

Text

whoopsie-doodles!!!

all my sanders sides stuff is now gonna be at a sideblog!! @rome-man-sand-dares

this is just gonna be theater + my other fandoms + memes + personal stuff now :P

tagging a few peeps who i know at least partially follow me for tss ✌️ @deerecho @theinsanelylogical @mistythegirlfluxmess @twistedm0th @thesmilingbumblebee @dragonsworn05 @the-panic-is-here :D (sorry if that's bothering u)

#sanders sides #starkidding-posts

10 notes · View notes

tori-beanie · 5 years

Text

I think y’all get it by now. Idea from FanartFunart. They’re awesome. Go check them out!!

https://fanartfunart.tumblr.com/post/184661279405/filed-under-aus-i-do-not-plan-on-actually-doing

Part Three: Blue Violet

Logan was so bored. He was in eight grade now, and had nothing to do. He’d read all his library books. He’d completed all his homework. He’d been staring at the ‘Digits of Pi’ sheet above his teachers desk, and so far he had memorized one hundred digits. The boys life had been moving smoothly, nothing surprising or out of the ordinary really happening. He still had four blackened marks on his wrist, and it was starting to annoy him how much they looked like black sharpie. Logan spent a few minutes counting ceiling tiles before he paused. He had been distracted by the need to use the bathroom.

As he was excused, he ran face first into a boy looking to be his age. He had a visitors tag on as well as a pair of purple headphones and a black and white flannel. He seemed to be nervous, eyes widening as he reached up to hold his forehead. They had run into each other after all. However when they met each other’s gaze, Logan get his arm tingling. He looked down to see one black line on his arm slowly turning to an honestly satisfying purple color. Slowly a smile appeared on his face, and he looked over the boy. Purple. Yes. It fit him.

“Hm. You seem to cause my zygomaticus muscles to contract.”

Patton had grown as well. He was still searching for his soulmate, but hadn’t been able to find them so far. Still the boy was longing for colors. He hummed gently, walking down the street after classes. Patton couldn’t see colors, but he could still see the beauty in the world around him. Fall was his favorite season. He could see so many shades of grey in the trees, on the ground… And when they would get the first snowfall, he knew that he was seeing the right color. The white of the snow was real. Something he would always have. It made him happy. And until he got his colors back, Patton would continue to find joy in the small things. In the details of this world. Because that’s all he could do.

For now though he was bundled up in a sweater his father said was light blue, heading to sit at the park. He had a bag full of corn with him to feed the ducks at the pond. It was a hobby he really enjoyed, as not only was it cute, but he could share with kids smaller than him and they could all enjoy themselves by watching ducks swim around for the corn. As he arrived at the park, Patton noticed that it was rather empty. The sixth grader was a bit lonely… Oh well! He would meet his soulmate one day! Then he wouldn't be lonely anymore!

Roman had finally gotten it through his thick skull that he had more than one soulmate. Not only did De have four in total, but he was still hearing music. One time they were sitting together at the lunch table, and Roman heard the blast of Panic At The Disco in his ear. De had looked confused until Roman explained what was going on, and then the red eyed boy got the pleasure of being laughed at by his soulmate. However Roman couldn’t stay mad. They were happy together even with the disparity in ages, and had managed to fit their schedules perfectly so that they could eat lunch and even spend study halls together!

Roman loved to look at the red tattoo that colored De’s left shoulder. How it glowed when he would just brush his fingers up against it. It made Roman very happy, and even though it made his soulmates face turn red, he would sceranade him on occasion. It was absolutely adorable! Yes, he was happy with De. And he could hardly wait to meet another one of his soulmates… Maybe he could talk to the emo and get him to turn down the My Chemical Romance too… There was a lot of emo music Roman needed a handle on. He couldn’t sleep when drums were pounding in his ears after all!

Watching Roman startle at random music was rather funny. In fact it was one of Declan’s main forms of entertainment. Sure he was nice to his soulmate, but it didn’t stop it from being funny. He wondered how Roman stayed sane though with all the songs in his head all the time. He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to be singing one song while hearing another blasting in your ear! Roman must have a special kind of musical talent. However neither had had any luck coming across their other soulmates. Ro was far more poetic about the whole thing, referring to them all as pieces for the most extravagant and lovely puzzle. His soulmate tended to do that a lot, and had a knack for attempting to use slang. However he didn’t seem to understand De’s proficient use of sarcasm. He actually took his seriously a lot, something that bothered both of them. However De couldn’t really help the way he spoke. It was just who he was.

In the two years they had been together, Roman and Declan didn’t get into many fights. Anything they did argue about tended to be misunderstandings or just plain stupidity. Roman had to be talked down from jumping off the roof into a kiddy pool twice in one summer! De pretty much had to make sure that Roman didn’t hurt himself by being stupid and courageous as he called it. But all in all, they were happy! They just needed to find their missing pieces…

Virgil Casey was frozen. He knew what he had just heard, but there was no way he was prepared! The boy had just been delivering papers to his mother. She worked here at the school and had left something at home. After convincing Virgil to bring it for her, he had been wandering the halls looking for her classroom. The boy definitely hadn’t expected to run face first into a boy who looked almost his age! He had been dazed for a moment before hearing the boy speak. He knew the words. He’d read them a thousand times. But hearing them was still so surprising that Virgil could only stand there dumbfounded.

Logan reaches forward and held out his hand, looking to be proper. Honestly the boy seemed to fit the science speak. He also fit the dark blue writing on Virgil’s right arm.

“Forgive me for running into you. You may address me as Logan. Logan Foley. May I know your title as well?”

Yeah. He was a nerd. Slowly Virgil spoke, his voice shaking slightly.

“Virgil Casey… But uh, you can call me Virge…”

Yes, these two would need some time to get to know each other, but for now, they could be happy knowing they had found one of their matching set.

General Tags: @midnight--fox @your-friendly-neighborhood-enby @heathers-dorkness-0923

Soulmarked Tags: @fanartfunart @logan-sanders-is-my-binch @dragonsworn05 @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @astraheart04 @of-mice-and-mentality

#roceit #ts logan #ts patton #ts roman #ts deceit #ts virgil #soulmarked #ts soulmate au #analogical #virgil and logan meet

104 notes · View notes

vinnysthrowaway · 5 years

Text

everybody whos asked to be on the dsau taglist so far

also known as the ddlc au but dsau is the proper acronym lmao

@depressed--and--underdressed @becca-becky @thisbisreadytoyeet @aphandgflover @the-face-of-gaud @ilovemydarkandstormyknight @depressed-alone @metaphoricalpluto2 @beautifully-terribly @just-fic-me-up @lowest-of-the-low @larkiaquail @datoneidiot @infinityonthot @sammy-mynott @insanelycoolish @i-am-just-weird @dragonsworn05 @two-player-game @mijako98 @calvindientesblancos @youre-lazy-and-youre-gay0-0 @pattykrabbies @brookeisanerd @ainsleyf @fandomsandanythingelse @scarletsaphire @impatentpending @spiralofsilencetheory @randomfangirl-21 @random-artsy-space-dude @therealpeterpan @changeling-ash @g-gemi @stars-are-prettiest-at-dawn @heretoreadmyfics

#dsau #dsau taglist

34 notes · View notes

incorrectbatfam · 5 years

Text

Bruce: Jason, I know you snuck out last night.

Jason, internally: Act dumb.

Jason: Who’s Jason?

Jason, internally: Not that dumb!

1K notes · View notes

stormcrawler75 · 4 years

Note

if it hasn't been done yet (re the bad things happenbingo) could I ask for either amputation or damaged wing(s) with Remus please? I love what you've done with the prompts so far

Warnings: Amputation, hospitals, diseases, talk of surgery.

Characters: Remus, Patton, mentions of Roman, Logan, Virgil, and Janus.

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

Hospitals smelt like absolute, sterilized shit.

Remus couldn’t fucking stand hospitals. Just the smell alone made Remus want to stay far away from hospitals for his entire life. Like, Remus got it. The people who worked there saved lives and the world would probably die without them. But Remus really hated hospitals. Maybe the problem was that they didn’t get enough money? Or that usually only shitty things happened at hospitals? Or maybe because of how many times Remus had been in one recently and he had only gotten shitty fucking news?

Whatever. No matter the reason, hospitals were still at the top of Remus’ shit list at the moment.

Plus, the gowns were itchy. Though, that might just be Remus’ opinion. He currently had one tied around in and was lying in a bed, waiting impatiently for the stupid kiddie clock - which was actually pretty cool because it was shaped like an octopus - hung on the opposite wall to hit three o’clock. Remus was so ready for this to be over with so he could go back home. Roman had promised to make whatever he wanted for dinner when Remus came back and Remus was so craving pancakes with cheese sauce.

Remus sighed and glanced over at his Dad, who was sitting next to him and reading a battered old Highlights magazine. “How much longer,” he whined, giving Patton his best pout. “We’ve been waiting here forever!”

“We’ve been waiting here for two hours, Sweetie,” Patton said gently, putting the magazine down on his knee. He glanced at the clock hanging opposite from them. “Well, it looks like you only got about twenty more minutes to go, Hon. Are you nervous?”

The question had been asked so many times by so many people lately that Remus could barely manage a scoff. “Me? Nervous? Nah, not at all! Hey, it’ll be pretty cool, if you think about it!” He forced a gasp and grabbed Patton’s wrist. “Do you think they’ll film it? Could I watch it later!?”

Patton laughed and shook his head fondly. “I don’t think so, Kiddo. But I’ll ask your doctor, okay? But if we do get it then no showing your siblings, okay? Especially don’t let Virgil catch you watching it, he would have nightmares for weeks. He’s already so worried about today.”

Remus’ jaw clenched at the memory of his two-year-old brother sobbing just a few hours ago and trying to cling to Remus’ hand. Virgil hated hospitals just as much as Remus and, unlike Remus, he didn’t have the maturity and wisdom that Remus had to understand why he hated them or remember just how long he had spent there as a baby. “He doesn’t have any reason to worry,” Remus spat, hating the pit of fear that was growing in his gut. “The doctors said that this is the best option for me and even if I’ll have to do therapy and stuff, I should be just fine.”

“Oh, Honey, he’s only a toddler, he doesn’t understand what’s happening,” Patton said gently, taking Remus’ hand and squeezing it. “All he understands is that his big brother is in pain and is going away to a scary place and is going to come back without one of his legs. He’s much too young to know what osteomyelitis is.”

“I’m fourteen and I don’t even fully understand what this stupid disease is,” Remus muttered, crossing his arms. So many people had tried explaining it to him and all Remus fully understood was that some stupid fungi had injected his right leg bone and they had caught it so late that amputation was the only option. “But I know that he shouldn’t be worried. It’ll be fine and he didn’t need to be crying so much. Logan and Roman weren’t crying.”

And, no, Remus wasn’t disappointed that Logan and Roman - old enough to understand what was happening - didn’t cry like Virgil had or looked worried. Not that there was any reason to be worried but it would’ve been nice for them to pretend to be worried!

Patton squeezed his hand again, looking down at him sympathetically. “Trust me, kiddo, they were crying plenty last night. Logan’s been looking up the operation ever since he learnt what you have and Roman is so scared about his twin. They were trying to be strong for you, that’s-”

“But there’s no reason to be worried,” Remus cried, throwing out his arms in frustration. “There isn’t, I’m going to be fine and there’s no reason for anyone to worry!” His eyes were filling with sudden tears and his jaw trembled with the force of keeping them back. “I-I’m gonna come home and annoy everyone a-and t-they don’t need to worry ‘bout me cause I am gonna be f-fine!” He sobbed and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, images of all the things that could go wrong flashing through his mind.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him forward until he was leaning against his dad’s chest. “Shhh, shhhh, you’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” Patton cooed, rubbing a hand up and down Remus’ back. “You’re gonna be fine, kiddo.”

“They’re gonna take my leg,” Remus sobbed, gripping Patton’s shirt so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “D-don’t let them take my leg, don’t let them, Papa!”

“Oh, Kiddo,” Patton sighed, resting his cheek on the top of Remus’ head and holding him close. “Sweetheart, I wish I could stop them from taking your leg. If I could, I’d take this infection and put it in my own leg so you wouldn’t have to lose yours. But I can’t, Sweetie, and I’m so sorry. And I know this is very scary but I’ll be right outside the room the entire time. And I’m going to buy you the best prosthetic that money can buy, I promise.”

Remus sniffled and he rubbed at his eyes, looking up at Patton sadly. “O-one with some design?”

Patton gave him a wobbly smile and nodded, kissing Remus’ forehead. “I’ll buy you two. A plain one and one with any design that you want on it. We’ll do it together, okay baby?”

“Okay,” Remus sniffled, leaning back against Patton and closing his eyes. “...How long now?”

“...Two minutes.”

Remus’ breath hitched and he fought back the urge to vomit. It’d be hilarious but then they’d have to wait even longer for this surgery to take place. “I’m scared,” he admitted softly. “I’m so scared, Papa.”

“I’ll be right outside the surgery room and I’ll be right there when you wake up,” Patton promised softly, sounding like he was holding back tears. It made Remus want to dig a hole in the ground and cry. He was making his Papa cry. “And as soon as the Doctors say you’re ready, we’ll go home and see your brothers and Uncle Janus, okay?”

Remus sniffled and nodded, wiping away the tears trailing down his cheeks.”Okay,” he whispered. He let out a shaky breath and forced a smile. “It’ll be okay.”

“Remus?” The two of them turned to see a Doctor and a Nurse waiting for them. “We’re ready for you.”

Remus glanced at Patton nervously and got a confident smile in return. “You’ll be okay,” Patton said, looking so sure that he might as well had been saying that the sky was blue. “I’ll be right next to you when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay,” Remus said softly, turning to the Doctor and Nurse. “I’m ready.”

General Taglist

@mooniecoockie

@all-eyes-on-you-forever

@engineering-a-better-world

@hermitcreature

@punsterterry

@iris-sanders-athena

@heck-im-lost

@the-v-gees

@tiredfluid

@sevenatee

@i-really-dig-the-purple

@detroit-become-pan

@trust-me-i-just-get-weirder

@radioactivehelena

@max-is-tired

@unikornavenger

@amazonprimebox

@emmydragon

@thegaypasta

@lunareclipse-524

@thepotatoking1010

@bleepblopbloop56

@world-class-izzy

@violetsandpride

@smolautumnchild

@sanderssmosh-n-musicals

@cookiethedevil

@satanblessi

@figurative-falsehood

@crookedlyoptimisticdestiny

@ao-koshka

@onenightjoanly

@alsoyouremischievous

@figurative-falsehood

@mrtacothethird

@analogical-mess

@combine-the-kitchens

@knight-shives

@the-office-cat

@dark-kestrel

@lizziepopanime

@razberrypuck

@kastrefeila

@lilcutekittykat

@ladyonce

@penguinpatty1502

@analogical-mess

@incorrectqueereye

@liz-a-belle

@imjustawibba

@remy-alagaesias-dragon-queen

@fandoms-winkitywonk

@therubyjailcell

@angels-and-dreams

@europa-bear

@pumpkinminette

@viva-la-pluto-dam-you

@ravens-rambling

@felicianoromano

@czcernys

@phander-trash

@felicianoromano

@maehemscorpyus

@the-anti-virgil

@georganabanana

@kaileah-kat

@omg-rainbowgalxy-things

@chemically-imbalanced-romance

@just-another-rainbowblog

@asymmetricalgarbage8888

@imtooaromaticforthis

@ambersky0319

@th3okamid3mon

@atomicljamm92

@lovebug5151

@shadowsfromthesun

@justpicturesofsam

@fuck-perfection-be-a-mess

@dragonsworn05

@entitydark

@sparkedawg

@luckybanana948

@holliberries

@hell-or-high-waters

@paint-in-flames

@purplepatton

@opaque-puppet

@pearl-topaz

@that-smol-tired-gay

@tired-fanboy

@rachel-eve-puppet

@the-psycho-pie

@the-warfstache-of-wall-street

@pastel-puns

@shadowjag

@saphirestrike

@theatresweetheart

@gatlily

@pastelpatton

@agoddamnrayofsunshine

@ps-reblogs

@tacohippy56900

@anxious-fander-bean

@winterknight1087

@moonfang03

@that-random-fandom-girl

@cricks-loves-you

@teacupfulofstarshine

@hetaisawesome

@lilylunalovegood2002

@silverviolin069

@bubbliee0

@demigodnamedathena

@donalev

@flix-net

@sos-fandoms

@writingfeedsthedarkestones

@leesacrakon

@clone-number-1

@ninja-wizard101

@never-end1ng-suffering

@all-bridges-will-burn

@theresneverenoughfandoms

#Storm writes #tw Amputation #tw hospitals #tw diseases #tw talk of surgery #Remus Sanders #Patton Sanders #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Janus Sanders #Bad Things Happen Bingo #Anonymous

221 notes · View notes

incorrectbatfam · 3 years

Text

I’ll preface this by saying: I get a ton of notifications and I can’t see if people tagged me unless I put my username into the Tumblr search bar, which is often much later than when I was actually tagged.

That said, I was tagged by @thedelusionalreaderbitch to basically name seven comfort films and tag seven people so here goes:

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

Spider-Man: Homecoming

Spider-Man: Far From Home

The Parent Trap

Inside Out

Mulan

The Lion King

@distance-of-song @bisexualoftheblade @queerbutstillhere @dragonsworn05 @padre91 @ivyxwrites

#personal #not dc related #tag game

44 notes · View notes

incorrectbatfam · 4 years

Text

This or That: Fic Tropes

I was tagged by my friend @paintingwithdarkness but the original post was too long so I’m making a new one.

Slow burn or love at first sight

I’ve never read an insta-love story that I enjoyed. It’s unrealistic and makes the plot feel flat. Lust at first sight, I’m down for. Love? Not so much.

Fake dating or secret dating

I think secret dating adds an extra layer of trust between the characters as well as tension with the world around them.

Enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers (enemies to friends to lovers)

Going from enemies directly to lovers is a bit of a jump that, more often than not, isn’t executed very nicely. I find that it’s a lot of sexual tension but not much else so it doesn’t sustain well for long-running arcs. I’m a firm believer in “date/marry your best friend” both in fiction and in real life. In my eyes, a good relationship is one where the people involved are best friends first and lovers second—all my ships have this in common.

There’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence

Again, it’s all about development. With the long-distance one, there’s an opportunity not just for relationship and plot development, but for characters to grow as people independent of a love interest.

Hurt/comfort or amnesia

Amnesia can kind of fall under the angst or hurt/comfort categories. Hurt/comfort is broader and there’s more to work with.

Fantasy AU or modern AU

I just don’t like traditional fantasy.

Mutual pining or domestic bliss

This is gonna sound weird for someone who writes a good amount of domestic fluff, but I think mutual pining can be stretched over a storyline more effectively. Domestic scenes are cool, but they have their place as more of a “calm before the storm” in the greater scheme of things.

Smut or fluff

I’ve read so many bad sex scenes it’s not even funny.

Canon compliant or fix-it

Fuck canon.

Reincarnation or character death

Yes, it’s sad. Yes, I look like a terrible person. But honestly, reincarnation just doesn’t do it for me. There isn’t as much of an emotional impact when a dead character is just gonna come back anyway.

One shot or multi-chapter

I have the attention span of a banana. A multi-chapter would have to be both complete and really good in order to get me reading the whole thing.

Kid fic or road trip fic

Kid fics (assuming it’s where they are kids, not having them) can get pretty dicey pretty quickly. Also, I’m a sucker for a cross-country caravan crew.

Arranged marriage or accidental marriage

Logistically, I can think of like... only two ways people can get accidentally married. But the comedic appeal outweighs any arranged marriage plot.

High school romances or middle aged romances

High school romances feel more relatable to me as a twenty-year-old. I can’t relate to being fifty and having a tenured job, but I can remember senior prom like it was yesterday.

Time travel or isolated together

Just think of the possibilities! Where are they gonna go—revolutionary France, the Jurassic period, the space-age future? You never know!

Neighbours or roommates

Again, it’s that pre-established friendship appeal.

Sci-fi AU or magic AU

It depends on the specific type of sci-fi or magic in question. Like, if it’s a zombie apocalypse, I can get behind that, but less so with a Hunger Games crossover. Similarly, I can do with magical worlds (I wrote a Coco AU for Pete’s sake) and the subtle kind of magic, but at the same time like fuck soulmate AUs.

Angst or crack

Both are a fine art. Angst isn’t just all darkness and pointless tears. Crack isn’t just “LOL I’m sooo random XD”. It all depends on execution, which I judge on a case-by-case basis.

Apocalyptic or mundane

That’s like apples and oranges. Apocalyptic scenarios are high-stakes and allow for a lot of great plot-driven drama and action. But there’s also beauty in the ordinary if you know where to look.

I’ll tag... @distance-of-song @queerbutstillhere @writtenskyes @dragonsworn05

#personal #tag game #dc fanfic #writing #tw angst #tw swearing #tw death mention #tw sex mention #tw violence mention

97 notes · View notes

stormcrawler75 · 4 years

Note

oh my gosh!! you've got such an amazing bingo board!!! ok, i'm gonna toss you four squares all with one character - if you'd like, you can count this one ask across multiple fics, or try to double up tropes in one fic, or disregard some of the prompts altogether, whatever works best for you! but i would 100% love to see how you write virgil with 1, healing pod malfunction, 2, came back wrong, 3, truth potion/serum, or 4, i know you're in there somewhere fight?

Warnings: Major Character Death, Necromancy, death.

Characters: Roman Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Remus Sanders, Janus Sanders with Mentions of Patton and Logan.

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

“I can’t believe you! How could you do this, Remus!? How?!”

Remus rolled his eyes, accepting a tray from his personal servant. He ignored how his servant kept his eyes on the ground with a pale shaky look to him. “Hey, is it really my fault that Necromancy is super easy to figure out? Janus and I figured it out in less than a month.” He turned and grinned at his older brother, looking uncomfortable and out of place in Remus’ bed chambers. “Get that grumpy look off your face! Look, we fixed everything!”

“Fix-” Roman stormed forward, waving his arms wildly, “Necromancy is banned, Remus! If you weren’t a Prince then you and Janus would be thrown into the dungeon and V-” Roman cut himself off with a pained grimace. “...The person you brought back would be granted a mercy kill. The Nobles Families are already pushing for that to happen and I... I...”

Remus gripped the tray with his and his consorts’ dinner on it tightly, his knuckles turning white. “Finish that fucking sentence,” he hissed, glaring at Roman. “Finish it. I fucking dare you.”

There was a long tense silence where nothing happened except the two brothers staring at each other, one glaring defensively and the other with a pleading look in his eyes. The silence was broken with a low groan from the other occupant of the room. Remus fixed a smile to his face and brushed past Roman, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hey, Sleepyhead. Glad to see you awake!”

Virgil’s eyes slowly opened, his unnatural purple eyes having a tired glaze to them. While his body had been restored exactly to how it had been before his death - no decay and the gaping hole in his stomach gone like it had never been there in the first place - there were dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in months. Which he had, of course. He had barely done anything but sleep. “Remus,” he whispered. His voice was so soft and quiet that Remus could barely pick up on it. “Where’s Lo? And Pat? They were just here.”

Remus heard Roman’s breath hitch at the mention of Virgil’s long dead older brothers but didn’t react besides gently smoothing down Virgil’s bangs. “That was just a dream, Stormcloud. Hey, why don’t we have dinner? I got your favourite. Remember the chef’s special pie? I got a whole slice just for you.”

“It tastes like ash,” Virgil whispered. He stared at Remus with eyes that looked devoid of life. “Everything tastes like ash.”

“It’s just a little side effect, Stormy. Janus said that’d your tastebuds would come back soon, I promise,” Remus vowed, taking Virgil’s shaking hand and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. He grinned over his shoulder at Roman, ignoring that pale sheen to his brother’s face. “See?! He’s back and as good as new!”

Virgil’s slowly turned to look at Roman, a thin and pained smile spreading across his face. “My King? You did survive. I, I told Logan and Patton I saved you and I did.” he reached out to Roman, the King immediately taking it in his own.

Roman knelt by Virgil’s bed, pressing Virgil’s hand to his cheek. “You did save me,” he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes. “You did and I’m so proud of you. You were the best of my King’s guard. I wrote of your accomplishes and,” his voice trembled and Roman took a shaky breath, “and my people sing songs of your bravery. Virgil the Brave, they call you.”

“The Brave,” Virgil whispered back. His smile widened but it looked wrong, like butter spread over too thinly over bread. “I like that. Patton told me, he told me when he died to be brave.” He blinked in confusion when Roman’s tears started trailing down his cheeks. “My K-King? What’s wrong? Did I, did I upset you?”

Roman laughed wetly and shook his head. “No, no my friend. You didn’t upset me. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You look so tired.” He cupped Virgil’s cheek, looking over him and asked softly, “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

“I’m tired,” Virgil whispered. He rubbed at his eyes and whispered out, “I’m just so tired.”

“Then perhaps we should leave you to rest, my Dearest.”

Remus and Roman turned to the doorway where Janus, the Court’s Wizard, stood. The scales spreading across his face glittered in the light of the setting light, giving him an otherworldly look. “It’s been a long day for you,” Janus hummed, walking forward and tucking the blankets up to Virgil’s chin. “You had a walk in the gardens in the morning and then you and I read some books. It’s been a productive day.”

Virgil blinked at him slowly and took his hand. “Okay,” he whispered softly. He looked up at Janus and asked softly, “Do you think I’ll see Patton and Logan again in my dreams?”

“I’m sure you will,” Janus hummed, gently kissing Virgil’s cheek. He took Remus’ hand and pulled him up. “You have a good rest, Dearest. We’ll be joining you in just a few minutes after we say goodbye to the King.” He turned and looked at Roman, arching an eyebrow at the tears dripping of Roman’s chin. “My King? Shall we?”

Roman’s jaw trembled and he croaked out, “This isn’t right. This isn’t right, Remus. Janus, you are the Court’s Wizard and you know that this isn’t right. Look at him,” he cried, waving a hand at a confused Virgil. “Is this what you wanted?! He was at rest, who are you to-” He cut himself off as a cold wind blew through the air, blowing off the candles and oil lamp.

Janus stood up straight, glaring at his King with bright golden eyes. “I am his Husband, that’s who I am,” he hissed, his voice echoing with power. “It wasn’t his time, I know this. If it wasn’t for you, then we’d never have to do this in the first place. If you hadn’t needed Virgil to jump in front of you and get-” he cut himself off and looked away, his face softening slightly as he stared at Virgil. “Leave,” he said softly, the power disappearing from his voice. “My Dearests and I will be having a private dinner tonight.”

There was a long, tense silence that was only broken by Virgil whispering, “Why can’t King Roman stay? Patton and Logan are going to be staying.”

“No, Dearest,” Janus said, smiling at him gently with a sad look in his eyes. “No, they won’t be. And the King has things to do. Perhaps tomorrow.” He glanced back at Roman, narrowing his eyes at the still crying King. “King Roman... you’re busy, aren’t you?”

“...Yes,” Roman whispered. He smiled at Virgil sadly, not bothering to wipe away the tears. “I’ll visit with you tomorrow, my friend.” He left with tears still rolling down his face. He closed the door behind him, just as he let out a sob.

How could Remus have done this?

General Taglist

@mooniecoockie

@all-eyes-on-you-forever

@engineering-a-better-world

@hermitcreature

@punsterterry

@iris-sanders-athena

@heck-im-lost

@the-v-gees

@tiredfluid

@sevenatee

@i-really-dig-the-purple

@detroit-become-pan

@trust-me-i-just-get-weirder

@radioactivehelena

@max-is-tired

@unikornavenger

@amazonprimebox

@emmydragon

@thegaypasta

@lunareclipse-524

@thepotatoking1010

@bleepblopbloop56

@world-class-izzy

@violetsandpride

@smolautumnchild

@sanderssmosh-n-musicals

@cookiethedevil

@satanblessi

@figurative-falsehood

@crookedlyoptimisticdestiny

@ao-koshka

@onenightjoanly

@alsoyouremischievous

@figurative-falsehood

@mrtacothethird

@analogical-mess

@combine-the-kitchens

@knight-shives

@the-office-cat

@dark-kestrel

@lizziepopanime

@razberrypuck

@kastrefeila

@lilcutekittykat

@ladyonce

@penguinpatty1502

@analogical-mess

@incorrectqueereye

@liz-a-belle

@imjustawibba

@remy-alagaesias-dragon-queen

@fandoms-winkitywonk

@therubyjailcell

@angels-and-dreams

@europa-bear

@pumpkinminette

@viva-la-pluto-dam-you

@ravens-rambling

@felicianoromano

@artemispowell

@phander-trash

@felicianoromano

@maehemscorpyus

@the-anti-virgil

@georganabanana

@kaileah-kat

@omg-rainbowgalxy-things

@chemically-imbalanced-romance

@just-another-rainbowblog

@asymmetricalgarbage8888

@imtooaromaticforthis

@ambersky0319

@th3okamid3mon

@atomicljamm92

@lovebug5151

@shadowsfromthesun

@justpicturesofsam

@fuck-perfection-be-a-mess

@dragonsworn05

@entitydark

@sparkedawg

@luckybanana948

@holliberries

@hell-or-high-waters

@paint-in-flames

@purplepatton

@opaque-puppet

@pearl-topaz

@that-smol-tired-gay

@tired-fanboy

@rachel-eve-puppet

@the-psycho-pie

@the-warfstache-of-wall-street

@pastel-puns

@shadowjag

@saphirestrike

@theatresweetheart

@gatlily

@pastelpatton

@agoddamnrayofsunshine

@ps-reblogs

@tacohippy56900

@anxious-fander-bean

@winterknight1087

@moonfang03

@that-random-fandom-girl

@cricks-loves-you

@teacupfulofstarshine

@hetaisawesome

@lilylunalovegood2002

@silverviolin069

@bubbliee0

@demigodnamedathena

@donalev

@flix-net

@sos-fandoms

@writingfeedsthedarkestones

@leesacrakon

@clone-number-1

@ninja-wizard101

@never-end1ng-suffering

@all-bridges-will-burn

@theresneverenoughfandoms

#Storm Writes #tw death #necromancy #Virgil Sanders #Remus Sanders #Roman Sanders #Janus Sanders #Bad Things Happen Bingo #Anonymous

171 notes · View notes