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suzukiblu · 6 months

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Day seventeen of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

“I think it's pretty normal to give someone a phone when you want to talk to them,” Tim lies. Bruce gives the other Bats burners sometimes, though. And also communicators. And Robin’s loaned plenty of allies communicators before, including Superboy. So it's normal in their circles, whether Kon actually knows they're both in said circles or not.

“. . . I like the green one,” Kon says after a moment, which is a little bit of a surprise. It's a nice sort of deep, leafy color, Tim guesses, but he would've expected Kon to go for black or red or blue; maybe yellow.

He wonders how green Hawaii is, come to think of it.

And how much green Kon regularly sees these days, living underground in a lab.

“Okay,” he says, then gestures towards the phone case display with his smoothie. “Let's get you a screen protector and a case too, just in case.”

“You don’t have to,” Kon says. “I mean, I am gonna have my TTK on it.”

“Yeah, but that only works if nobody knocks it off the table or something when you’re not holding it,” Tim says. “Besides, better safe than sorry, right?”

“Um, okay,” Kon says. Tim leads him over to the phone cases, and Kon glances them over indecisively, clearly paying more attention to the price tags than personal preference. Tim decides distraction is the better part of valor, in this case.

“I don’t recommend anything superhero-themed, for the record,” he jokes. Kon snorts.

“That’s called a feint, thank you very much,” he informs him mock-primly. “Nobody’d think a superhero would actually have the balls to go around with a superhero-themed phone case.”

“They’d think Superboy would,” Tim says in amusement.

“. . . okay, fair,” Kon allows, making a face at himself. Tim laughs.

“How about that one?” he suggests, pointing towards the second-most expensive one on the rack–so Kon will know money isn’t a concern, but also so Kon won’t realize he’s specifically doing it to make sure he knows money isn’t a concern.

“It looks like a tire tread,” Kon says wryly, which is a fair assessment. It’s one of the heavy-duty cases, so it’s pretty bulky as it is, and the pattern on it is a little tire-like.

“The ones down here have glitter, if that’s more your thing,” Tim replies in amusement, pointing again.

“Glitter is more my thing,” Kon says, leaning over to peer down at the indicated row. Tim probably should’ve expected that response, considering, except also he would absolutely never have expected Kon to willingly admit to liking glitter. At least not without being concussed first. “Hmmmmm.”

“That's a nice one,” Tim says. Kon’s looking at a green and blue case with bright gold glitter swirled all over it in abstract designs; it looks a bit like ocean water, if you look at it the right way. It’s definitely not going to be anywhere near as durable as the tire tread one would, but Tim isn’t particularly concerned about that anyway. He was gonna get accident insurance no matter what. Statistically speaking, Kon will probably go through more than a few of these. He hasn't had the same phone for longer than three months since starting up as Robin. Something always seems to happen to them. Usually a supervillain.

“Too bad they don’t have anything with a cute little goat on it,” Kon jokes as he straightens back up, regrettably letting go of Tim's hand to take the green and blue glitter-case off the wall. “You know, commemorate our first date and all.”

“That was not our first date,” Tim says, mildly disgruntled but mostly flustered by the idea. “I'd have planned a date a lot better than those morons planned their dumb heist. And bought you something from the gift shop, if nothing else.”

“Could've just kept the goat, I guess, but Superman would've made me give it back anyway,” Kon muses idly as he looks over the case in his hand and takes another sip of his smoothie. “This is for the right model, right?”

“Should be,” Tim says, though he double-checks anyway. “Yeah, no, you're good. Lemme go grab a clerk so we can get the plan set up. We'll just go through my name, I can probably set up autopay for the bill easier that way.”

“Um, sure,” Kon says, biting his lip for a moment and then glancing sidelong at him. “So is this our first date, then?”

“No,” Tim says, though technically it probably is. But given how Kon’s been acting about the idea that Tim would actually be interested in dedicating actual time and attention to him–“I'll take you somewhere nice for that.”

“Somewhere nice?” Kon says, hiding a very unsubtle grin behind the phone case. It'd work better if his stupid pretty eyes weren't sparkling for it, Tim thinks in resigned accusation. Kon doesn’t ask what “somewhere nice” means, but Tim is already trying to figure out what restaurants he knows that might appeal to Kon’s palate. If he likes Hawaiian flavors . . . there’s some Asian influence in that, right? He thinks, anyway. Japanese, at least. Maybe Filipino? Polynesian? Any other influences or parallel cuisines he’d have to look up to figure out, though.

Tim knows absolutely no Filipino or Polynesian restaurants, much less actually authentic Hawaiian ones. He could definitely do Japanese, though. Japanese would be easy. Just going to a restaurant isn’t much of a date, probably, and he can’t take Kon on patrol or anything like he and Steph used to do, but they could maybe go shopping in a nicer boutique or something? Or go to a museum for actual entertainment instead of just business, if Kon would be interested in something like that. Admittedly, it’s hard to picture him being particularly into museums as a concept, but it might be worth a try.

Maybe he’d like the aquarium or planetarium more than something involving art or history or science, though. Those are a little cooler than just wandering through a bunch of random exhibits, Tim thinks. Or at least, they might appeal more to Kon. The ocean, or stars and planets, or . . . like, whatever, he guesses.

He’ll have to do some recon, probably. Light interrogation. Figure out what Kon would be the most interested in.

Or they could just go to the beach. It’d require a little bit of travel on his part, but likely wouldn’t be a big deal for Kon; he could just fly. Though in retrospect Kon’s probably spent about half his life on a beach, so maybe that’s not interesting enough. And the Jersey Shore probably wouldn’t measure up to Hawaii in his eyes, either.

Hm. Yeah, Tim's definitely going to have to do some recon.

Tim is possibly putting in too much effort here, considering Kon is going to lose interest in actually flirting with him in about five minutes. Kon never seems to really properly date anyone, as far as Tim's seen; just flirt around a lot. So he should be prioritizing shopping and apartment hunting, really, before Kon gets bored of the flavor of the week and wanders off.

Tim Drake is not exactly an exciting date, so . . . yeah, Tim’s not expecting Kon to stay interested for long. He’s just got to take advantage of it for as long as it lasts to leverage Kon into letting him buy him that cul-de-sac and go from there, that’s all. Kon seems to stay friendly with the girls he flirts with even after things fizzle out or fail to go anywhere, so he assumes it won’t be any different with Tim Drake. As long as Kon’ll let him keep paying his way, that’s all that’s going to matter.

Tim is really going to need to frontload that, though. Establish him paying for Kon as the new status quo very quickly and get Kon used to it before he loses interest in him, so he won’t feel awkward about accepting it by then. Or so Tim will already have signed all the paperwork and it’ll be too late for Kon to protest; whichever.

He’s definitely going to have to frontload it.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young just us #young justice #rinfic #long post #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

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lesbian-cowpoke · 3 months

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Colors I think make up most of each Bat's wardrobe because of secret identity reasons why would they wear the same color and even risk the thought weaseling into someone's head:

Dick: Black and Yellow! (Based off the the flying Grayson's outfits and he was batman.)

Babs: Browns, Blacks, Blues (very professional)

Jason: Black and Green (He's an edgy bitch and green is so Talia's color)

Tim: Blacks, Browns, Blues (but in the opposite way of Babs. Band shirts and shit like that. Very 90s grunge.)

Steph: Purple and Red (girl has her color. Red for the red in the robin colors <3)

Cass: Blacks and browns (she definitely got all her clothes from Babs. Some from Steph.)

Damian: Blues and Purples (Dick and Steph definitely influenced it.)

Duke: Creamy colors and Reds (ifk I think he'd look good on them. And I NEED his jacket from Robin war.)

#tell me the bats arent so paranoid they would literally refuse to buy clothes in the same colors as their costumes #they are that paranoid. they are.#batfamily #batman #dc #dick grayson #barbara gordon #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #damian wayne #duke thomas

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pekejscatbed · 7 months

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Leather Jackets and Painkillers | Jason Todd & Tim Drake

Info/Warnings:

Tim Drake-centric, Trans Tim Drake, Menstruation, Tim is on his period and in PAIN, Jason takes care of him, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Tim Drake is Red Robin. Jason Todd is Red Hood, Trans character written by trans author

batman masterlist

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Red Robin is in the middle of tying up a pair of thugs when a particularly bad cramp hits, twisting his insides like a blender and stabbing his gut with the viciousness of Damian with his katana; he grits his teeth, willing the pain to go away, and works his nimble fingers around the cord to finish off the knot.

With the criminals now taken care of, Red Robin taps the comm link in his ear, "O, I got two thugs tied up here."

"On it, Red. Alerting police now." Oracle responds after getting the location.

Red taps his ear once more, effectively shutting off their communication, then grapples to the top of a nearby building to wait for the police just in case the goons escape, or someone comes along to cut them free. While waiting, another cramp has Red clutching at his stomach and he has to sit down on the building's roof to stop himself from swaying on his feet and falling over the edge. He groans, cursing to himself as waves of pain wash over him, and his vision flutters before he realizes what's about to happen- fuck.

Suddenly, Red Robin falls to his side, vision black as excruciating pain grabs ahold of his consciousness and knocks him out.

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Red Hood is out on patrol, surveying his territory for trouble and shooting (rubber) bullets at anyone who provides it, when he notices the collapsed figure a few buildings away, just on the outside of his territory; when he gets closer, he realizes who that figure is, red chest piece and black sleeves and leggings giving it away before Hood even sees the yellow bird head in the middle of the figures chest: Red Robin.

Muttering curses to himself, The Hood bends over and picks the other up, throwing the smaller male over his broad shoulder. With Red Robin hanging over his shoulder, Hood's arm around his thighs to keep him from slipping, Hood turns in the direction of his nearest safe house.

About halfway to his hideout, Red Hood smells the metallic odor of blood thanks to the absence of his helmet, only wearing his domino mask tonight, before he feels a wetness against his shoulder, and he curses once more. "If you got blood on my goddamn leather jacket..."

He grumbles to himself, moving faster now, obviously so he can clean his jacket sooner and definitely not because he's worried that his (brother) replacement is injured.

The pair arrive at the safe house without incident, and Hood is quick to lay Red Robin on the couch that Hood himself has laid injured on many times before. He begins to strip Red of his suit, of his crime fighting persona, starting with the mask, turning Red Robin back into Tim Drake. The cape comes off next, then the chest piece, and so on.

Tim is down to his underwear when Jason realizes the other has no injures- scratch that- no open wounds, because in this line of work? One is always injured in one way or another, Tim is no exception, but none of the youngers current injuries are bleeding, and that confuses Jason. He looks down at his jacket, which definitely has blood on the shoulder, and at his hands, that are sticky with crimson; he then goes through the difference pieces of Tim's uniform, searching for blood, when he comes across the wet spot at the crotch of his leggings- his hands pull away covered with blood, and of course he didn't see it, because Tim's leggings are black and so are his underwear, but that means-

Jason looks at Tim's chest, where identical crescent scars shape his chest, and he remembers the gender marker on Tim's file when Jason first found out he'd been replaced as Robin and went snooping, and how the F was crossed out with a M next to it, and-

Tim is on his fucking period.

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Tim wakes up in a bed he doesn't recognize, in a room he doesn't recognize, and he's not in uniform even though he remembers that being the last thing he wore, instead dressed in an oversized pair of black sweatpants and a red hoodie that engulfs the whole upper half of his body, and he knows he's seen this hoodie before...

There's a nightstand to the right of the bed with a bottle of painkillers and a glass of water on the surface, as well as a bottled sports drink from Tim's go-to brand. In front of the nightstand are two plastic grocery bags from a corner store native to Gotham, one filled with a variety of Tim's favorite snacks and different brands of chocolate, the other filled with pads and tampons in a multitude of sizes-

Tim slips out of the bed and quietly opens the drawers of the nightstand, snooping around for anything to tell him where he is and who lives here. The first drawer contains medical equipment, bandages and gauze and hydrogen-peroxide, etcetera. The second drawer is half filled with shirts and half filled with pants, though under the clothes lies a pocketknife and picture of... Alfred and teenage Jason?!

Tim sighs, now knowing who brought him here and where he is, or where he thinks he must be: one of Jason's hideouts. Still, that doesn't mean he's safe, as Jason has hurt him before- what if this is all just a trick, a trap? Tim slowly opens the bedroom door and tip-toes his way out of the room and around the corner, where he sees a uniform free Jason hunched over on the couch, wearing grey sweatpants and a green t-shirt and scrubbing at what looks like a leather jacket.

Jason doesn't look up as he sighs, "You owe me a new jacket, pretender."

"And I owe you a new jacket because?" Tim raises an eyebrow as he walks fully into the room, stopping a few steps away from the couch.

"Because," Jason emphasizes the word as he looks at Tim, throwing the jacket at the other, "you got blood on it."

Tim looks at the stain on the jackets shoulder.

"You do know I found you passed out on a rooftop, yeah?" Tim doesn't answer, throwing the jacket back. "What happened?"

Tim scoffs. "I think you know, considering the bags you left by the bed."

"If you're in enough pain to pass out on a fucking roof, then you shouldn't be out there in the first place."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Tim oh so cleverly fires back as another rush of pain hits him full force, and he stumbles for a second before catching himself.

"You didn't take the painkillers." Jason rolls his eyes as he stands, letting his jacket fall to the couch, and he grabs Tim's arm, dragging him back to the bedroom. "Come on."

"Let me go, asshole!" He tries to fight back, but he's in too much pain, though he's brought some comfort when he's pushed to the bed and a blanket is thrown over him, and he stays quiet when Jason hands him two of the painkillers and the glass of water, taking them without protest. However, he does ask, "Why are you doing this?"

It's now Jason's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Why are you being nice to me? Don't you care that I'm..." Tim's voice trails off.

"I don't. It's none of my businesses." Jason shrugs, picking up the bag of pads and tampons from the floor and dropping them next to Tim on the bed. "You might wanna use these. I didn't... I didn't think you'd be comfortable with me going that far, so I just put you in my sweats. You can put on something else if you bled through. Bottom drawer."

Jason walks out of the room before giving Tim any time to respond, and Tim just stares for a minute, what the fuck on the tip of his tongue, before he takes Jason's advice and grabs the bag, making his way towards the bathroom.

#tim drake #tim drake fic #tim drake fanfiction #trans tim drake #ftm tim drake #jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason and tim #tim and jason #jason todd and tim drake #tim drake and jason todd #trans character #trans male character #ftm character #batman #red robin #red hood

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maccreadysbaby · 5 days

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the secret keeper talked about Bentley being Robin and Tim being Batman in a different reality, and you showed us Bentley with a yellow and black robin suit looking at ducks Nightwing suit in a case and NEVER SPOKE ABOUT IT AGAIN???

WHERE IS BRUCE? WHAT HAPPENED TO DICK? CAN WE PLEASE GET A TASTE OF THIS REALITY??? PLEASE??? MAYBE WITH SOMETHING ANGSTY LIKE FEAR TOXIN OR POISON????

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne Drabbles

tw: general angst and violence? major character death

wanna read the extended fic? here’s the table of contents!

⚠️ THIS IS NOT PART OF BENTLEY’S CANON. THIS IS AN ALTERNATE REALITY MENTIONED BY THE SECRET KEEPER HERE.

SOMEONE WAS BREAKING INTO RED HOOD’S SAFEHOUSE.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for light sounds to pry Jason out of his feeble endeavors to sleep. A dog barking in the distance, some wind, rain drops, a car passing by. It happened nightly, hourly, half-hourly — he hadn’t been able to sleep in weeks. (Since December fourth. Twenty-four days. Who’s counting?)

What was an uncommon occurrence, however, was the fact that the light sound that roused him this time was the window over his kitchen sink sliding open — it had a certain minuscule squeak the others didn’t have — and not a single alarm or booby trap activated. Not a single security measure was tripped, and Jason never, ever, ever forgot to arm them. Not since December fourth.

He would’ve normally been less jittery, but life hadn’t been normal for twenty-four days. The bats didn’t know about this safehouse — Jason made quadruple sure of that. He wanted nothing to do with any of them and they wanted nothing to do with each other. Which meant that either they’d broken through his anti-tracking defenses, or someone else was breaking in.

And Jason’s anti-tracking was really good.

He wasted no time grabbing the key from his nightstand and unlocking the handcuffs that kept him attached to the bed. (That’s what he did on the nights when he couldn’t trust himself, or the pit, or his mind.) He slid out of bed and chambered the pistol he had on his nightstand, silently. His Red Hood suit was on the floor — having shed it earlier in favor of sweats and a t-shirt — and he might’ve had the decency to kick it under the bed if he cared enough.

He didn’t. Whoever was now inside his safehouse probably wouldn’t live long enough to see it, anyways.

Instead, he made for the bedroom door. He didn’t turn the lights on, because that would give away his location, so instead, he pulled the door open as slowly and quietly as he could.

There were sounds echoing down the dark hall; maybe shuffling? And then there were a few thumps. A thud against a wall.

Jason made it down the hallway and into the kitchen. His eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark fully yet, but he could see a figure standing in the middle of his kitchen. Turning on the lights would blind him, but it would also blind them, and give him a jump. It was risky, but honestly, he hadn’t cared in twenty-four days.

He flicked the lights on.

A moment passed where he couldn’t see anything, but after that moment was over, he was greeted by an all-too-familiar black and yellow caped vigilante. He huffed deeply, his pistol staying trained straight at the head of the so-called intruder.

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

“Bleeding on your floor, actually, thank you,” Bentley replied with a newly acquired bite to his voice — a bite and coldness and venom that had only been there since December fourth.

Jason watched the kid lean over the countertop and close the window behind him. He had to have been — his birthday wasn’t that long ago — sixteen? Jason was pretty sure he was sixteen. He was sixteen and definitely bleeding. From what Jason could see, he had several small scrapes and bruises and cuts, primarily on his face, and one large gash across his torso that was leaking a spectacular amount of crimson. He was breathing heavily, like he’d been running, and was sweating almost profusely. His skin was about four shades too pale. He was moving slow — favoring his right leg — and his domino mask was off. The skin around his eyes was red, and the whites were bloodshot. So, either crying, a bad reaction to domino adhesive, or drugged. Jason wasn’t sure.

He was also… tall. Taller. Only a little. He couldn’t grow that much in twenty-four days, could he?

Bentley’s brown eyes traveled to the barrel of the gun. “Why are you still aiming that thing at me?”

With a huff of annoyance, Jason lowered the firearm. “How did you find me here?”

“Not dumb,” Bentley replied shortly, walking over to the fridge like it was his damn safehouse and opening it, leaving a bloody handprint there. He groaned dramatically. “Why do you only have butter and pickles? They’re not even in date.”

“How did you get through my security?”

“Again: not dumb,” He continued, closing Jason’s fridge and cringing at the handprint. He thumbed at it for a moment before giving up and limping himself toward the old wooden dining table, pulling out the chair at the head.

(If this kid got any more like Tim Drake, he and Jason were going to have problems.)

With a duh tone, the unhappy owner of the safehouse tossed his hands to the side and said: “Get out?”

Bentley glared over at him with an icy gaze, piercing. “Yeah, yeah, I just need a minute.”

Jason, fed up, put his gun on the kitchen counter with a clack. (There was blood on his sink and windowsill, now.) “You broke into my safehouse so you could complain about my fridge, bleed on my stuff, and leave?”

Bentley breathed out, too. “Look, I know you’re not in the mood for this, but frankly, neither am I. So let’s both just shut up and pretend we’re alone, yeah?”

Jason said nothing, but watched closely as Bentley tugged off his hood.

The kid never got this injured — especially not with Tim dawning the cowl. He treated Robin like he was made of porcelain, and this, right here, was a very cracked chunk of porcelain.

Jason, with a huff, moved toward the (bloody) kitchen sink. “Tim doesn’t know you’re patrolling? That’s why you came here to bleed out instead of the cave?”

“What happened to shutting up?”

“Piss off, ginger. You broke into my safehouse,” Jason spat, moving quickly. He ducked under the kitchen sink and grabbed a large, white first aid kit he had there, tossing it onto the dining table with a bang that made Bentley jump. “Stop bleeding and get out.”

Bentley pulled his yellow gauntlets off and tossed them on the table next to the kit with two clacks, muttering something under his breath.

“Why were you patrolling alone?” Jason questioned, taking up a spot leaning against the countertop across the room. After all, patrol had been nonexistent for the last twenty-four days apart from when Jason decided he needed a night out. It was very out of character for Bentley to go anyways. “I thought you were taking notes from the goodie-two-shoes Robin.”

Bentley glared at him from the table, hard.

“Got a lead on a drug deal,” He answered surprisingly honestly, popping open the first aid kit. “Thought I’d bust it. Y’know, instead of staying cooped up in my bedroom feeling sorry for myself like you. Like B. Like everybody.”

Jason’s eyes traveled down to Bentley’s bleeding gnash. “That obviously went well. Be out in ten. I’m going back to bed.”

Jason pushed himself off of the counter in an attempt to retreat.

“I can’t,” The kid muttered.

Jason turned back around with a dramatic sigh. “And why not?”

Bentley’s huffed deeply, bringing the heel of his hand up to wipe at his eyes, blinking rapidly a few times.

Jason persisted. “Why not?”

“I just need a few hours, okay? This place was closest,” He replied vaguely, pulling out a needle and thread. “Just go back to bed. I’ll be gone before you wake up.”

Jason didn’t move, but he leaned against the counter again, crossing his arms.

“Jason-“ Bentley’s annoyed groan was cut off when he, very suddenly, winced in pain, bringing his hand back up to his right eye and pressing into it with his heel.

“Kid?”

“Go to bed, Jason,”

Jason did not, in fact, go to bed. Actually, he stood right there and didn’t move. Just to be a pest.

Bentley glared at him again, hard, and the whites of his eyes were a little redder — his pupils dilated much larger than they had been when he arrived.

Drugged.

Jason scoffed. “Your eyes are telling me that the drug deal went reallygreat.”

“Go to bed, Jason,” Bentley repeated. He’d been trying to thread the needle but finally abandoned it, choosing instead to shove gauze and sutures over the gash that definitely needed stitches.

(Jason pretended he didn’t hear the little, sort of desperate sounding please that came a moment after.)

“So you broke into my safehouse to complain, bleed, and ride out a high?” Jason questioned, snickering lightly. “I think I’d be honored under any other circumstances.”

“It was fear toxin. The new strand,”

The smirk promptly left Jason’s face.

The new fear toxin was some of the hardest hitting stuff Jason had ever experienced on the field. He was also the only one who’d experienced it on the field, hence probably why Bentley was there.

The stuff was like a horrifying, gut-wrenching acid trip that literally almost killed Jason for the seven hours it wreaked its havoc a few months ago. It was less of your worst fear and more of everything terrifying that’s ever passed through your brain, even for a millisecond, ever. He didn’t remember most of it, but Dick said-

Dick… said…

Jason felt a sudden onset of green creeping into his corners of his vision and promptly abandoned that line of thought entirely, lest he need to handcuff himself to his bedframe again. The gist was, it was bad. Bad bad. Psychotic, violent behavior bad. Jason-had-to-be-locked-in-a-cell-in-the-Batcave bad. They-couldn’t-get-close-enough-to-sedate-him bad.

But Jason was a tainted test subject — he had the pit, which added a whole new dimension to the rage. Bentley did not.

So really, there was no telling how this would go over.

“Please, just go back to bed,” Bentley muttered, in this sort of defeated child tone that made Jason feel kind of gross and sad. “Lock the door. Turn your security on. I won’t be lucid enough to leave.”

“Kid-“

“Please? It took me seven minutes to get here. I’ve been here for five. There’s only three until it starts,” Bentley muttered with a sigh, his left leg bouncing under the table. He was peeling off everything from his Robin suit that could be dangerous — his whole utility belt, his gauntlets, his cape, his bow, quiver; by the time he was done, he was really just wearing his pants and shirt. “Please just leave me alone. Don’t open the door.”

“Bentley-“

“Promise me, Jason,” He said with a bit of urgency. “Promise that you won’t open the door. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But-“

“Promise!”

“Fine! I promise. I promise I won’t open the door,” Jason finally caved with a huff. “But if you start killing yourself, that promise is toast.”

Typically, Jason would’ve passed with a hard hell no — but that was before. Before December fourth. Before twenty four days ago. Before their whole family crumbled and he forgot how to do this big brother shit.

Jason armed the security. Took Bentley’s Robin gear — as well as hidden weapons, kitchen knives, rat poison and other lethal things, like guns — and went back to his bedroom. Closed himself in. And sat.

The safehouse was silent for exactly twenty-four minutes. (Jason wasn’t counting.)

Then he heard footsteps. Just a small pitter-patter, the tiny pat pat of Bentley’s socked feet going down the hallway. He heard them stop at the bathroom. At the coat closet.

Then finally, ahead of his bedroom door. He could see the two little shadows of Bentley’s feet through the crack at the bottom.

There were a couple of tiny knocks.

“Jason?” Came a voice that sounded way too much like baby Bentley from six years ago. “Jason? Are… are… are you in there? Jason?”

As far as Jason knew, when he had been infected, there was not a single second when he wasn’t trying to actively murder someone.

Honestly, he’d prefer that over the baby Bentley voice.

“Jason? Are you in there?” He knocked again, not louder but faster, frantically. “Jason, I think I’m sick. I don’t feel good. Jason.”

Jason breathed in and out, rubbing his hands over his face. (Why the freaking baby Bentley voice?)

“Jason? It’s thundering really bad and I want to come in,” He continued, knocking softly, over and over without stopping. His voice was getting thick like he was starting to cry. “Jason, my father’s looking at me from the end of the hallway. Please-please let me in, Jason. Please let me in. Please let me in. Jason!”

Jason exhaled.

“Jason! Jay! Jason! Please, please, my father, he’s… ah!”

There were a myriad of thumps and thuds that let Jason know the kid had probably just fallen and shuffled down the hallway. It was then that Bentley started screaming, thick and wet from crying: “No! No, father, please! Father- ah! No! Father, no, please! Jason! Jason!”

He began to scream real, bloodcurdling screams from the end of the hall, past Jason’s room. He could hear them through the walls, in his bones.

Twenty minutes of screaming later, and Bentley fell silent.

Okay, well, yeah. Screw this.

Jason only lasted forty-seven minutes before he opened the bedroom door and peered down the dark hallway, toward where Bentley had been yelling from. The old, ugly table at the end of it was knocked over, the tissue box smashed in the floor. There was some blood, there, too, but no Robin.

And suddenly, Jason was slammed in the side of the head with something extremely hard that hit with a clang and sent him careening into the wall. Blood splattered there, and it only could’ve been from his own head.

Without warning, he was hit again, in the back of the head, and he collapsed on his hands and knees. His vision was swimming with black, and his ears were ringing so violently he couldn’t seem to comprehend anything.

Bentley kicked him over, and Jason could’ve swore he saw (and heard the clang) of him dropping — was that the metal legs from the barstools?

Bentley had manhandled the barstool legs off?

A glance toward the kitchen, and the barstool was laying over, the bolts and screws unscrewed with an alarming amount of blood on them.

With a flash, Bentley was on top of him, rearing back with a giant pair of kitchen shears that Jason didn’t even know he owned. His pupils were so dilated it was almost scary. In a reflex, Jason’s fist collided with the side of his head, and Bentley tumbled off into the floor, the scissors clattering beside him.

Okay, so rage Robin was here. He just had the decency enough to lureJason out before trying to kill him.

Bentley made a mad grapple for the scissors, which, despite Jason’s simultaneous effort, ended up back in the kids hand anyways. And then right into Jason’s.

No, like in Jason’s. Like, Bentley stabbed it through his hand and into the hardwood floor on the other side a millisecond after picking them up.

If Jason were anywhere else, with anyone else, he wouldn’t have reacted. But a part of him was so utterly stunned that he let out a shocked: “Bentley!”

Bentley didn’t seem to hear him, but ripped the bloody scissors right back out and scrambled to stand up. Jason forced himself off the floor, too, and hurried back into the bedroom, slamming the door literally in Bentley’s face. The poor kid rammed against it with his entire body weight, but still wasn’t strong enough to really move him.

Jason exhaled sharply, glancing down at his right hand that now had a furiously bleeding hole in it. He glanced up, around the room. All of the things Jason dubbed lethal were in there, so it was, like, the one place Bentley couldn’t be.

Jason’s eyes caught on Bentley’s bow and quiver that were laying in the open on his bed.

He moved away from the door, and Bentley literally crashed inside, leaving a perfectly sized circle hole in the drywall from the doorknob.

By the time his red, dilated, crazed eyes scoured the room and landed on Jason, he had the black and yellow Robin’s bow drawn and aimed at the child. “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

He released the arrow, and the syringe-tip landed right in Bentley’s left shoulder with a shout of pain and a jolt. The teenager ripped the syringe head out as quickly as he could, making an ugly wound on his arm in the process, but it was too late — the liquid had been drained.

He looked up just in time to make a really ugly face at Jason, before his eyes rolled back, and he hit the floor.

Jason exhaled sharply, lowering the bow from his face. Bentley was now unresponsive on the hardwood, face down, bleeding in various places with a giant pair of scissors clutched tightly in one hand.

Jason worked swiftly — he took the scissors (and everything lethal) and hid them in his closet, then went about moving Bentley toward the bed. He laid the kid gently on the mattress, and, with a small grimace, handcuffed his right wrist to the bedpost where his own wrist had been.

With an exhale, he sat on the end of the bed and turned the tv on to drown out his own mind. The sedative in the Robin arrows lasted for about an hour, which meant he had about that long to decide how he’d deal with him when he woke.

The tv opened to a news channel, displaying a burning, dilapidated building Jason knew all too well.

“Twenty-four days ago, on December fourth, twenty-seven people were killed in a freak apartment complex explosion, including Jolene Collins, A government official, and Dick Grayson, son of billionaire Bruce Wayne. The paramedics say-“

Jason’s ears stopped working when a picture of Dick popped up on the screen, smiling with those big blue eyes.

The tv shattered, and it took Jason a second to realize it was because he’d thrown the remote at it. Bentley stirred at the noise, only enough to get Jason’s attention and distract him from the green. The handcuffs glimmered in the sun that was starting to come up.

How the hell was he supposed to be the oldest when he couldn’t even handle himself?

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

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morgansunflower · 24 days

Text

In Time 1/2

Bruce Wayne X Reader

Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V. Heavily inspired by Gotham series. Requested by Wattpad user(I no longer have Wattpad)

Warnings: violence, explicit language, suggestive content, explicit language and angst

Words:1184

Requested taglist @too-strong-to-lose @asrainterstellar

Batmom is in danger when Slade travels back in time to kill her. Unfortunately for him the Batboy's are not going to let that happen.

Everything had crumbled into the worst possible outcome. H/N laid in a coma with her husband laid in a stretcher beside her. She had been severely injured by Slade. Bane had escaped from arkham.. Everything happened at once. Zatanna opens the portal.

"you must listen to me carefully. You have 8 days until you are returned to your original time line. You will fall asleep on the last night in the past and then by the time you wake you'll be back here. The same logic is for Slade and his soldiers. They've been their for 10 hours.. You must hurry"

Dick, Jason, Duke, Tim and Damian say their goodbyes to the girl's along with uncle Clark and Alfred. They were staying to keep Gotham safe. Luckily Zatanna prevented any time warps once they find Y/N and choose to confess who they are...

Years prior...

Y/N had just turned 16 as she was living on her own. She didn't have any family as her parents left her. She learned to survive on the streets at 14. Y/N graduated early and now was living in a storage facility. She has two couches and several blankets she bought with what little money she has. Her only friend in the world was Bruce Wayne. Though she hadn't seen him since she left school. She walked outside onto the roof of a building. Y/N looks down seeing the people, the crime, the terror. Justice had to be served. She feels her nerves are on edge.

She sees a man wearing heavy armor. He was standing in the distance staring at her. Her heart sinks to gut that told her to run. She runs across leaping to the other building to see other men but in darkened armor. She hits one with her baseball bat and dodged the bullets shot at her. She runs fastly as a rope pulled at her ankle. She let out a welp in pain. Y/N was drug by the rope panicked. She tried to get the rope off her leg. The rope was shot by someone in the distance. She internally cursed wondering who the hell was her savior. She stands heavily breathing and takes out her bat for self defense.

"what the hell do you want?! Who the hell are you?!" she demanded tightening her grip on her baseball bat.

The man approached with his soldiers "to destroy your life and the life of your family's"

"I don't even know you! My family abandoned me!!"

Slade only glared to her. She steps back. She swings to hit him, but he took hold of arm dislocating her shoulder.

"AHHHH!!!"

He snatches her baseball bat hitting her across her face. He then throws it far away, he wanted her to suffer. Her face was definitely going to bruise from the force and she feared it would take her ability to stay conscious. He takes hold of her neck. She struggled to get out of his grip. Tears came down her skin as her breaths become struggled. Slade slowly began to tighten his grip. Death-stroke is distracted seeing his men attacking her rescuers.

"I'll deal with you later" Slade takes out his swords

He slings her to the ground. She coughs breathing heavily. She blinks trying to remain conscious. She see the man with the red helmet punch Slade. The man wearing a black and blue suit thrust kick a solider. She sees another with a bo staff. She sees a young boy with a sword? What the hell? She sees another in yellow dodging a bullet with complete ease. Duke runs to Y/N as she was now shaking in pain.

"I know. I know it hurts Mo-Y/N but your gonna be OK!"

Duke lifts her into his arms with ease. She whimpers in pain. As they were in cover, she directed Duke to her hideout. Slade saw that she was gone. He throws a smoke bomb escaping. Duke sits her on the couch as his brothers entered the room.

"I uh I--" Duke stammered he didn't want to hurt her.

"I got it!" Jason snarled moving his younger brother "this is gonna hurt like a bitch"

He fixes her dislocated shoulder "AHHHH!!" she screamed as every person in the room felt sick to their bones.

"better?" Grayson asked

She heavily breathed "yeah hmm my head is.."

"yeah can't do much about that" Jason scoffed

"but I can" Duke takes a pain pill from his pockets. "here it's pain medicine"

First she questions his motives.. But they just saved her life. She takes the medicine.

"thanks... So I have to ask. Who the hell he was? Who are you guys? Why did you save me?"

They were all quiet.

"the man who attacked was Slade aka Death-Stroke. He is not from this time line but from the future.. So are we"

She takes a deep breath "ok give me a minute to process that..." she clears her throat "that explains part of my questions.. But why does he want to kill me?"

Grayson takes a deep breath "to hurt people who really care about you in the future"

"I have reasons to doubt what you say" she bitterly said. "I guess I owe you guys.. You can stay here for tonight.. Or however long it takes to keep me from getting killed"

"that'd probably be smart for the time being. I can take the first watch" Grayson said "and by the way you don't owe us anything" he smiled

"well at least know I'm very grateful for your help" she said to them "what are your names anyway?"

They each told her their names. As Y/N tried to fall asleep she couldn't help but wonder why they looked at her the way they did. She wondered.. Could they be the ones Slade was trying to hurt through hurting her? Could they be her family? Y/N stirs in her sleep to smell her favorite breakfast. She lifts her head seeing Jason with a bag of takeout from her favorite restaurant.

"how did you know?" she asked curious

"lucky guess" he shrugged lying

As she became bored Y/N takes the newspaper she took from a trashcan yesterday. Her skin went cold. Her eyes shake as she reads one of the headlines.

"NO!! NO! NO! NO! SHIT!"

"what?!" Grayson asked concerned

She placed her hand on her chest as it pained in worry "a old friend of mine.. His.. His butler was stabbed last night"

Tim stepped to her and reads "oh, don't worry Alfred is OK"

"we know for a fact nothing can kill him. He's a total badass" Grayson assured her

"I don't care. I mean I do, thank you for the reassurance but I need to see Bruce.. It's been so long.." she was nervous of course but he needs comfort.

"it's too dangerous" Damian snarled.

"I have to see him. You can escort me their or not, for all I care" she snapped back

"tt" he responded annoyed hiding the fact he was truly worried for her safety.

#batfamily #Time travel #Batmom #young bruce wayne #gun violence #Violence #Angst #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #Duke Thomas #Batfam #Bad Slade Wilson #deathstroke

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toulousewayne · 8 months

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Batfamily Shenanigans:Head-canons Pt: 3

Even though has vigilantes they Batfam drive several different vehicles, most of them don’t have a license or got it late. Steph,Cass,Duke, and Damian don’t have licenses. Dick,Tim, and Barbara have licensed, Jason has a fake license due to the fact he and Bruce were supposed to declare him not dead but both have forgotten and he just gets Barbara to update it if it expires.

Speaking of cars I feel like those that can drive have favorite or one specific vehicle that use.

Bruce drives an all grey Lamborghini or a red Porsche.

Dick has a older Porsche in green.

Barbara had a yellow buggy when she was younger but now she has a black SUV.

Tim usually takes one of Bruce’s Mercedes.

Jason has two motorcycles and a older impala he fixed up in his spare time.

Damian likes to paint his sisters nails, he finds it calming. Stephanie is his favorite, Cass only likes her nails painted sometimes not all the time and Babs picks at her nails when she’s stressed. Stephanie let’s him pick the color and the just sit in his room while he paints.

Bruce has a large collection of alcohol but he himself doesn’t drink.

Alfred has a notebook with a contact for each family member in case they won’t listen to him or needs help. Bruce has Clark, Dick has Wally, Jason has Roy, Tim has Conner, Damian has Jon, and Barbara has Dinah. If plan A fails he’ll call plan B for any of them. Diana.

Tim has Hypoglycemia.

Dick has the most tattoos. It’s only five and their all small.

Bruce can’t stand the smell of gasoline it reminds him of when he lost Jason.

Alfred will order pizza once a month. One to give him a break and two because no eats the same pizza so he has order everyone their own whole pizza. It goes as followed.

Bruce doesn’t really like pizza that much but he eat what kind Alfred orders him, Dick is a Hawaii pizza Guy pineapple and all, Jason likes Buffalo chicken pizza, Tim likes pepperoni, Damian of course gets vegetarian, Duke what pepperoni and nothing else, Stephanie like plain cheese, Cass likes Pepperoni and and black olives, Barbara likes Supreme,and Alfred doesn’t like pizza he likes the cheesy garlic bread or flatbread pizza.

Personally I think of Jason has either half Latino and Italian or Puerto Rican, Tim has Korean American.

In that same vein, I see the Batfamily in this height range: Jason is 6’2-6’3, Bruce is 6’2,Alfred is 6’1, Duke is 6’0, Dick is 5’11, Barbara is 5’10, Stephanie and Cassandra are 5’9,Tim is 5’8, Damian is 5’5.

Also, we all know Tim is Bi,Selina is Bi and Kate is a lesbian. I see the other Bats as different sexual orientation as well. Dick is Pan, Jason is Asexual, Stephanie is Pan, Cass and Damian are both Aromatic, Duke is straight, and Barbara is Bicurious but is comfortable to enough to appreciate beautiful women. Bruce is Bi and just doesn’t know it yet.

Cass is very good a tending to different hairstyles and textures. She braids Babs,Steph and Dick’s hair. She’s also helps Damian and Bruce with their hair due to over styling it putting to much product in their hair. She also cuts Dick’s hair when it gets to long and greasy.

Duke is very good baking and his sweets are high on everyone’s lists like Alfred.

Stephanie definitely is the Big Sister Damian always needed. She pranks him, teases him about his crushes, but she also leaves her apartment window unlocked for Damian to enter at anytime of the night when he feels overwhelmed and doesn’t want to go to Bludhaven. She takes him to his favorite art supply store in Gotham Heights, and even gifts him stuff for his next project.

Tim is definitely the lost child of Dick and Barbara. Even though the two aren’t together and have different relationships(another head cannon), Tim is pretty much their child of divorce. They both have check his location to make sure he’s not trying to burn down LexCorp, or if he hasn’t left is room for three days straight Tim might find it strange that all tech disabled except for his phone but it’s reprogrammed to only call Barbara and only then will she fix it devices. Dick will just randomly enter Tim’s office at Wayne Enterprises and will mess with his stuff while Tim’s on a zoom meeting. And once he’s done he will ask Tim what’s their plans for lunch.

Selina and Talia both will make random trips to Wayne Manor to check on their children. Selina has threatened Bruce’s life numerous times for shouting at Dick or Duke. Bruce has woken up in the middle of the night to a dagger drawn to his throat he knows it’s Talia and all she says is, “Don’t make me have to have this talk again beloved, I’d hate for poor Alfred to have to clean up your room.”

Tim and Damian both hate mint chocolate chip ice cream. Cass finds it enjoyable and will help eat their portions if she needs to.

Duke taught Damian how to play Spades, and in return Damian taught him to paint so he could paint his girlfriend a gift for their anniversary.

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sadlybeans · 2 months

Text

No More Batman AU Part 3: Lazarus Pit

AO3 link || part 2

“All ready?”

“Ready and waiting, N”

“Same here”

“….”

“Good, then let’s get this party started… You know what to do, Nightwing out”

The coast was all clear and the preparations were perfect, but just as he was about to step out and finally get the case over with, the ground shook and one of the trucks by the warehouse exploded, alerting the thugs that quickly raised their guns as alarms were sent out. It all happened too fast for any of them to react before it was too late.

“What the fuck was that!?” Spectre yelled into the comms, and Spoiler’s answer came too jumbled with static for Nightwing to make out.

“It’s the bat!” one of the thugs screamed, pointing wildly at the shadows “it’s Batman, he’s here!”

Dick cursed under his breath, but at least they seemed afraid of the thought of meeting the Batman, and they had to move fast now—

“Batman!?” Dick froze. “I’m ROBIN!”

A slender figure, barely a blur of yellow, dropped down from where they had been hiding behind a stack of containers and the smoke of the explosion, kicking a thug as they landed and quickly contorting to evade the bullets, moving as fast as a shadow to put the criminals down.

And Nightwing… Nightwing stared with eyes wide as saucers, breath picking up as all he could see was Robin, his little brother and his wild black hair, the yellow cape that had a chili sauce stain in a corner from that one night Dick saw him last, the same scratches in the front and the chip to the R on his chest. The kneepads that had once been red but the colour had faded into black again, and the gloves that he had stolen from Dick’s old suits because he didn’t quite like how his’ fit.

“N! N, you have to breathe!”

No, no, no, no, no—- Jason was gone, he was dead, he couldn’t be here, he couldn’t.

“Nightwing! Fuck— Dick, breathe!”

Spectre slapped him across the face and he gasped, taking a big breath and chocking on it as the burn of his lungs registered. Through his blurry eyes shapes started taking definition again and he found that Tim was holding his shoulders, his worry visible even through the sharp angles of his cowl.

“Robin… Jay…” he croaked weakly.

“Spoiler and Black Bat have him, you need to listen to me; breathe slowly. One, two, three… hold it”

He gulped and started to imitate how Tim’s chest rose and fell, and slowly but steadily the panic attack subsided and he was left shivering in the cold metal of the shipping container he was half-sprawled onto. It was only then that the girls jumped down next to them with Robin.

He looked up so fast his neck could’ve snapped— It wasn’t Jason. Dick blinked quickly, moisture gathering in his eyelashes and making the mask uncomfortably slick… Damian, arms crossed and lips twisted in a scowl, stood right in front of them all. Robin’s old suit didn’t suit him all the way, he was taller and broader than Jay had ever been, but when his hair wasn’t brushed back and when he was far away enough to overlook his bronze skin they could be confused for one another. Spoiler and Black Bat looked right about to jump him, and when Spectre stood up with his fists clenched, ready to unleash his fury upon the kid, Dick started sobbing.

Clark took a deep breath as he leaned on the balcony railing. The sun was almost gone down the horizon and the house was submerged in a tense silence that could’ve been cut with a knife. In any other circumstance he would’ve taken the time to be surprised and excited to finally, after over two decades finding Batman’s real identity, but the situation was dire.

“I know I’m asking for too much” Bruce repeated “but you and Diana are the only ones I could trust with this”

“Are you completely sure?” Clark finally turned to him, brows crinkled in worry “It’s just so…”

“Impossible? I would think so too if I hadn’t checked all of their suits’ cameras” Bruce passed a hand through his hair and walked back inside the studio to grab his forgotten glass of whiskey and chugging it down in a single gulp. “I can’t leave Damian unsupervised any longer, and I no longer think letting him leave is the best option”

Rao, he was just a boy… but Clark knew it was true, he had seen the recording as well, and he still couldn’t shake the look of the kid’s glowing green eyes out of his head. When his emergency comm rang so late at night he worried, and he’d flown straight to Gotham to find that Bat— Bruce’s kids had gotten into a full on fight with the youngest and most recent addition to their family. By then Damian was already locked inside his room but Dick had still been mid his second panic attack and Tim needed a cast on his entire left arm since it was broken in three.

Bruce was adamant that Talia wouldn’t have lied about the Lazarus Pit, not when it came to her own son. That meant that, seeing as Damian had refused to talk, they needed to find the one other person who knew the full truth; the boy’s mysterious caretaker who he called his ‘baba’. And most importantly…

“Locking him in his room is not going to help” Clark adviced softly.

“I know that, but what… what can I do now? What if he snaps when he’s in school or takes the opportunity to run off? You and I know well that if the League considers him a danger I can’t vouch for him any longer, and I don’t trust Ra’s Al Ghul to not come looking for his grandson. Even worse, when others start realising he’s different, he’ll be a target for many other—“

Clark held Bruce’s shoulders and shook him gently to snap him out of his spiralling.

“I know, just… breathe. That’s it…” he waited until he’d calmed down before he let him go. “Ok so, um, I think we can actually work with this. Damian needs an escort both for his safety and everyone else’s, right?”

Bruce squinted his eyes at him as he let himself fall onto the couch.

“What are you suggesting?”

“Well, Jon’s a couple years younger but fortunately for both of us, he is half kryptonian and could keep an eye on him” He sat down next to him and pat his shoulder “Who knows, maybe he can be a good influence”

For a long moment the billionare stared at him as if he had grown another head. Was he seriously suggesting they let a twelve year old boy supervise Damian? Sure, he was near invincible, but he wasn’t prepared to deal with that of all things.

“Clark— Jon is a good kid, he’s making good progress and all but…”

“…But you think it’s not enough” Clark finished.

“No! No, it’s…” Bruce pursed his lips “Damian is a fully trained assassin, I know he’s just fifteen and he looks innocent and harmless even with the whole… pit thing, but he can and he has killed people. I trained my kids as best as I could and still he bested both Tim and Steph, if it wasn’t for Cass and Dick he would’ve done much worse than just break Tim’s arm. I don’t think even Superboy or Supernova would be safe from him” He stood up again to pace around the study, although there was a defeated air to his desperation this time. “You don’t understand, Clark, I— I didn’t know he had snuck out, I never realised he went into the cave and took Jason’s suit! It was Oracle who told me over two hours later… It was a warning, I told him he couldn’t have Robin so he showed me what he’s willing to do if I don’t give him what he wants”

The more Bruce talked it became evident that he was terrified, he had been Batman and he had thought he was prepared to take in his biological son, only to be slapped in the face with the fact that he was no longer on top of the field… Batman died ten years ago with Robin, and time had kept running for everyone else. They all got better while he chose to ignore all about that world, and whoever had trained Damian had done a damn good job at it.

And he— he hated it. He hated that he could do nothing to fix this situation and that he was scared of his own son. But… god, he was even more afraid of losing another child.

“I think you need some rest” Clark sighed and stood up “I’ll call Lois to let her know I’ll stay and… and we can solve this in the morning”

Breakfast was more akin to a funeral by the time Bruce and Clark made it downstairs, and it was only just after they sat down that Alfred came into the dining room with a serious expression.

“Master Bruce, I believe it’s important that you should know there was a package just delivered for young master Damian”

Bruce paled and at the other side of the table Duke’s head sprung up from the table.

“Did you give it to him?”

“I did, and I made sure the security feed in his room was available” he nodded, offering a tablet to him.

Dick stood up from his seat and ran to stand behind his chair as Clark leaned over his other shoulder, leaving the rest of the kids to pile up behind them.

On the screen, Damian sat cross leged on his bed, staring intently at the small box without moving as if analysing it. They waited for around a minute and were about to give up when he grabbed it and sliced off the tape with a small blade he’d pulled from his sleeve -Dick visibly suddered, he had registered all his clothes personally and thought there was no weapons-. Inside there was a note that he unfolded and read through quickly before he tossed it aside and jumped to get a burner phone out of the box, turning it on and scrolling through it.

The expectating silence in the dining room was heavy and overwhelming as they saw him await for a call to be answered, and then suddenly a voice came out of it, quickly made audible to them when Bruce adjusted the settings.

“-mian?”

The boy’s eyes widened and he held the phone tightly.

“Why didn’t you call?” he snapped then, speaking just as rudely to this person as he had to everyone else.

“… I’m sorry, I had to make sure I was out of sight” the man’s voice was young, but distorted through a voice modulator. ��Are you alright? Was your father too big of a jerk?”

“He’s not my father” Damian answered automatically with anger “and I don’t want to stay”

There was a small sigh at the other end.

“We talked about this before, you know that”

“I hate it here”

“You’ve been there for two months, you have to give it time”

“I don’t want time, I want to go home”

As they spoke each their voices was raised in a frighteningly identical temper.

“Damian you don’t have a home anymore” the man snapped, harsh and brutal “So you’ll stay there like it or not”

There was a long tense silence in which the teen didn’t move, staring at the wall opposite to the bed.

“Why did you send this?” his tone was blank as he spoke “Why are you doing this if you’re going to abandon me forever?”

“What— no, that’s not it” the man audibly fumbled as he slipped and a bit of an accent shone through; american. It was gone the next second “I don’t want to do that”

“You’re a liar… you got rid of me the first chance you had, you’re never coming back to get me because you’re sick of me”

“That’s not how it works“

“Then explain it!” he screamed, standing up and throwing a textbook against the wall “You just do shit expecting me to not make any questions! I’m not a child anymore! I know how to make choices!”

“Yes you are! Are you even listening to yourself? You ARE a fucking child, you’re fifteen years old and you have no idea of how the world works! Do you think I can just— keep you? Your mother ain’t no saint and we both know that, she would get rid of me the moment I was no longer useful! What the fuck am I supposed to do to keep the Demon’s Head off our backs just so we can play house and pretend we’re normal people!? All your damn biological family has enough power to take you back in less time it takes you to blink! Hell, even your adoptive brothers have more rights than I do even if I raised you, why can’t you understand that I don’t have a choice!?”

Bruce didn’t know what to feel as he saw his son quietly sit on his bed, silent tears rolling down his cheeks while he held the phone to his ear. It was such a defeated silence from the both of them and he— he hated that he knew what the man at the other end of the line felt.

“…. B-Baba, I want to go home”

Even through the voice modulator the small intake of breath was heard.

“… I know, habibi” Damian let out a chocked noise and his shoulders started shaking “I wanna go home too”

Damian woke up late on sunday after crying himself to exhaustion. On his bedside table the burner phone was charging and a tray of cold food sat right next to it. The door was left open as a silent indication that he was no longer on house arrest, but he made no move to get out of bed just yet. At the end of the day he hadn’t truly gained anything at all… baba didn’t hate him, baba wanted him, but… he couldn’t come for him. From now on he was stuck with the Waynes until his mother decided otherwise, or until his grandfather decided Damian’s time was over. He knew baba would never come back to Gotham… he was too hurt. The Waynes had hurt him too much.

Batman had failed baba but… what if Damian could fix it? What if he could finally clean up the mess and get vengeance in his name? He slowly sat up and looked at the other side of the room where the old Robin suit had been thrown— it had been picked back up while he slept and likely carried back to the cave. That was fine, he would take it back, and then Robin would hunt a clown.

“Damian?” Wayne stood at the door, looking hesitant. “Can we talk?”

His first instinct was to say no. He had locked him up like an animal and likely looked at him through cameras— he hadn’t bothered to look for any to dismantle because he knew it was pointless.

“…” He nodded.

The man took a deep breath and pulled a chair to sit in front of him, fortunately at a safe distance.

“Did you sleep well?”

Damian glared and he winced.

“Yes, sorry about that… We had to make sure you wouldn’t hurt the others or yourself”

“…”

“… Right. I’m going straight to the point, ok? I need you to be as honest as you’re willing. Had you ever experienced an episode like that?”

Damian scoffed and Wayne sighed.

“Do you know why you snapped?”

“Of course I know, I’m not an idiot” he finally replied full of snark “I was awake when I was dipped in the pit all three times”

Damian didn’t suffer from the madness of the pit. In a way, mother and baba suspected he was almost immune to it now. Baba had only been put inside once and he’d become dangerous enough but Damian… well, he was special. He was made by hand, every trait and every little piece carefully selected to carve out the ideal statue, the perfect heir… the perfect vessel. Damian had a use and so he needed to be strong, perfected to the last detail. Baba had only been allowed to stay because he could help him and teach him control.

“Do I have any reason to suspect it’ll happen again?” Wayne looked pale, queasy. So he couldn’t even stomach the thought of everything Damian had lived, after all.

“…. No. Not if you give me what I want”

“I can’t let you be Robin” Wayne refused “I can’t fail another kid like that”

Damian opened his mouth to say something cruel and then stopped.

“What?”

The man sighed and lowered his head, looking exhausted and way older than he normally did.

“When… When Dick became Nightwing, I adoped another son. His name was— Jason. Jason Todd. He was very bright, with an excellent potential, and I… I failed him. The Joker killed him, and after that I promised myself there would be no more Batman and Robin again”

That— that couldn’t be right. Mother had said nothing changed!

“Drake?” he asked.

“Tim tried convincing me and Dick that Gotham needed Robin, but I refused. He only started being Spectre a couple years ago”

“But….”

“I can’t stop them from going out there, but I don’t want them, don’t want you to be in danger”

But baba…

“Why not kill the Joker? Why let him live?”

“I know things for you are very different, but I don’t kill. It’s… I almost wanted to” he quickly blinked to keep tears at bay “but if I did, I would taint everything that Jason died for”

Baba didn’t need a legacy, he wanted to say. He just wanted his dad to love him and miss him, he wanted his family to notice he was gone… and they never did. Even now they hadn’t bothered to check his empty grave?

“Damian, this is the one thing I can’t give you, so I need you to promise you won’t try to steal my dead son’s suit again. Can you do that?”

…Ok.

I’m sorry baba, I promise I will be careful and follow everything you taught me. I know you will be very mad but if Wayne can’t do this then it has to be me— it’s the least I can do. Call me back when you see the news, but remember I’m being watched.

Damian sent the voicemail and put down his burner phone with the screen down right next to the keyboard, taking a deep breath. The school’s library was nearly empty and his chosen corner offered no room for anyone to sneak up behind him without him noticing, keeping the screen of the computer concealed. He cliked the bright blue button and waited for the slow internet to load.

Seventeen pictures, all badly taken and blurry but still unmistakably the Robin that had been missing for ten years, were posted for the world to see.

#batfam #batman #bruce wayne #damian wayne #jason todd #no batman au #angst #family feels #angst with a happy ending #damian’s whole thing with the pit isn’t actually relevant to this fic #so i won’t go in depth with it but yeah there’s more to it #this chapter is also rushed on purpose to emphasise how quickly it all went down #guess who’s also about to make a comeback?#;)

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urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites · 19 days

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Hiii! So, I'm kinda nervous to try but I wanna try the whole matchmaking thing for DC if you don't mind?

So, I'm 5'1, have shoulder length fluffy black hair, I have brownish yellow skin, have a scar above my left eyebrow from some stitches I got there, and dark-ish brown eyes.

I'd say I'm an energetic person, but at the same time have almost no energy for anything if that makes sense? I'm energetic if it's something I like, tired 24/7 otherwise. I'm self diagnosed with Autism and ADHD, waiting on an official diagnosis when I have the money for it. My favorite colors are green, blue, purple, red and black. I like dancing, singing, am super into music, learning how to skateboard right now, I love riding bikes, I am obsessed with reading, I enjoy theatre and am probably a theatre kid. I also like watching anime. I don't really have any close friends, but I do have a lot of friends and acquaintances! I'm a social butterfly and can Yap about anything I'm passionate about. I'm bisexual (masc leaning) and Genderfluid. I love animals and currently do ballet. I'm also a math whiz and a science whiz.

My fashion sense leans on more goth, punk, emo, alt, and Cottagecore. I constantly wear platforms and spiked rings, sometimes dangly earrings. I also wear fingerless gloves a lot. And I mostly wear black.

I dunno what else I can use to describe myself, so I hope this is enough?

Your DCU Ship: Tim Drake

Explanation: starting off with physical attraction, I think he would be very attracted to you. He’s not much taller than you. He’s about 5 inches taller than you and I think that he likes that you’re shorter than him because it’s often hard to find a person that is shorter than him. he would also probably find your scars pretty bad ass cool and definitely ask lots of questions about where you got them and if you were ever insecure about your scars, he would just tell you how cool they make you look. he also thinks that your brown eyes are really pretty, and if you ever tried to insist that they were just plain brown eyes, and there was nothing special about them then he would definitely start comparing them to all sorts of pretty brown things like the rich soil of the earth or the darkest chestnut wood, chocolate, and coffee or things like that. yes this does make sense. I’m kind of a similar person and also I think that you and Tim would be a great balance. He’s always kind of tired and he doesn’t really sleep or he’s alarm clocks and he’s always kind of drained so I think that you guys will make a good couples, especially with your constant energy. I feel like it would energize him a bit, and he would make you a little bit less chaotic and give you a little bit more motivation to do things. If you were ever tired because it was a boring day then I’m sure he would make coffee with you and then try to cheer you up a little bit and you guys will be just cute little coffee, grumpy people together. He would also totally do a lot of outdoorsy activities with you even though he’s more of a stay and read person. He’s more of an introvert so I feel like your social butterfly would kind of bring him out of that a little bit and he could help you kind of not overwhelming yourself with social interaction. also, if you’re into math and science, you guys would totally geek out together like I feel like you would be so cool. You guys could just go into a room and talk for hours about that stuff and never get bored and I feel like he’d be very happy that you share some of those more similar hobbies to him and I mean he is literally a better detective than Bruce Wayne himself. He’s extremely intelligent so he would love discussing those things with you, as a kid, he listens to musicals. I feel like not a theater kid himself, but he would listen to musicals with you, and I feel like he would listen to his musicals on his own anyway, and he would come to all of her shows and always be super supportive. he also really loves your fashion taste and I feel like that’s kind of what made you stick out to him in the first place as he was like oh my gosh that person is so cool and I’m such a nerd. I’m such a dork like and he was super awkward approaching you and then you approach him and started talking to him and he probably got pretty flustered and awkward and I don’t know. I just feel like it would kind of be a really funny interaction for you to guys to have because I mean, I have a theory that he’s incredibly confident as red Robin his superhero persona but when he’s Tim Drake, he is so awkward man. He cannot hold a conversation and then red Robin. He’s like so smooth talking that’s my theory. anyway yall r cutieee 💙

#urlocalnonbinarybastardwritesanswers #tim drake x you #tim drake hcs #tim drake headcanons #tim Drake #the bat boys dc #dc univerise online #dc fandom #dc #dc robin #dcu #dc comics #dc universe

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mamawasatesttube · 4 months

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6 & 29 for the ask game? i love your work!!

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

not "all the time" per se but i've definitely gone back to both fill in the blanks by @mindshelter and blush by @misspickman a few times. what can i say, i love it when tim is besotted and kon gets loved <3

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

okay i DO plan to post this.. eventually... when i finish the other 5 chapters of it... but given that i have no idea when that will be, here's a bit of the "jon's friends keep thinking his big brother is hot and he's in hell about it" wip sfdkjh (under the cut for length!!)

fanfic writer asks!

Any thoughts Yichen had about going to the skate park tomorrow get zapped clean out of his head as an engine purrs, and a sleek, sexy as hell motorcycle peels into the parking lot.

It’s a gorgeous dark red color, with black accents, exposed chrome exhaust pipes, and a front light and handlebars to match. It’s not obnoxiously loud, but its thrum is powerful and satisfying. It sounds expensive, if that’s even possible.

The sexy bike rolls to a stop right in front of the three of them, and the rider rests his foot on the ground for support. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a leather jacket covered in patches and studs—the shoulders are spiked, and a little chain dangles from one of the pockets.

Yichen identifies a few hero logoes among the patches on both the back and front; there’s the Superman family crest, obviously, on one shoulder, and then Wonder Woman’s winged W on a trapezoid. One of the Flash lightning bolts, too, in red and white—Yichen isn’t good at remembering which hero is which, outside of Metropolis. Is that… no, Kid Flash is yellow. Oh well. There’s others he doesn’t recognize at all, like a round yellow-and-black one right over the rider’s heart with a weird… bird-shaped thing, maybe?

Man, he really oughtta brush up on his heroes.

But that’s beside the point, because holy shit. This guy—this is the coolest guy he’s ever seen in his life! That jacket, the boots—chunky, thick-soled, covered in belts and buckles—and the ripped jeans, with barely-visible fishnets peeking out through the tears. This guy has fashion! Ho-lee shit, what is someone like that doing here?

Jon hops down from the brick fence with a sigh. “Alright,” he says, and leans down to pick up his backpack. “Well, I’ll see you guys.”

“Wait,” Priya says. “That’s your ride?”

Jon blinks. “Uh, yeah? Why?”

The cool as hell motorcyclist pulls off his helmet. Yichen’s jaw drops.

It’s like seeing Jon’s dad’s face transplanted onto a guy half his age and so much hotter. He’s got high cheekbones and a square jaw ever-so-slightly dotted with stubble, and piercing blue eyes just like Jon’s dad, and his hair falls in curls that should be crushed and flattened from the helmet but somehow still look amazing.

“Yo, Jonno!” Conner calls. “C’mon, we’re gonna hold up traffic!”

“I’m coming!” Jon hollers back. “I’m just saying bye, jeez!”

Yichen finally remembers how to close his mouth and does so. He doesn’t feel cold anymore—his face is on fire. “Dude.”

Jon tilts his head quizzically. “Yeah?”

“Dude,” Yichen repeats.

“What, Yichen?” Jon glances at Priya for clarification, but doesn’t seem to find any. What the hell does he need clarified here?

“Dude!” Yichen clutches at his hair. “Duuuude!”

“What!” Jon hefts his backpack onto his shoulders. “Stop ‘dude’ing at me and say it already!”

Yichen jumps down from the brick wall and grabs Jon by the shoulders. How does he not get it? How does he not get it?!

“Dude,” he says, as intense and emphatic as he can hope to get. He shakes Jon slightly, then points at Conner. “That is your brother?”

“Uh… yes?” Jon squints at him. “Is that, uh… a problem?”

Yichen clutches at his hair again. “Dude!” he exclaims in consternation. Grabs at Jon’s shoulders again. “Oh my god. Dude! Dude! You never told me your brother is hot!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Yichen almost thinks he sees Conner laugh. Except that’s not possible, because the engine definitely drowned out his words—they’re not that close to the roadside. Priya definitely laughs, though, covering her mouth with one hand.

Jon, meanwhile, wrinkles his nose. “…Ew.”

#answers #bandanabiel #rimi writes #just a lil bit hehe #and thank you!!!!!!

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probablyhuntersmom · 1 year

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Me, dishing out short metas about the Lions in the year of our lord 2023? More likely than you think.

I revisited some scenes and fondly see some common threads as to why Red selected Alfor, Keith and Lance. The official handbook (that lines up with the era of the show before the Head of Story, Tim Hedrick, was too boxed in and disallowed from following the story bible he put together) says determination and instinct on top of skill are key traits to pilot this most temperamental, most unpredictable and most unstable out of all five Lions. She's the speed demon of the team.

Alfor followed his instincts about researching quintessence to defy Zarkon twice. We know that Keith is fine with defying anyone, even Shiro at the end of the day if he has to. In my opinion, Lance's learning point was not caring what others thought of him and stop trying to do the "cool" thing. Defying that insecurity about self and thus being able to defy others in situations: wherein he would previously not be able to make that difficult decision. In early S3 he manages to be unflustered and stable to redirect Keith towards calm leadership.

So it's about making tough calls and sticking with the consequences, something shared with being in the position of Black Paladin. In fact, Red and her pilot has had to step in to lead and redirect the leader (Black) a few times. A failsafe if you will, to step in and take the reigns if needed.

She is second-in-command but she's also the wild card Lion. While by default she is unpredictable, she is the untameable one - more so than Black, I'd say - which is in a way what's most consistent in her, and is the most predictable thing about her. She'd expect any of her pilots to also have principles strong enough to defy upper command if such an act may actually be needed for the benefit of the team.

Which is interesting because..these qualities makes her not so different from her supposed polar opposite, Yellow, who is responsible for making the team morale as unshakeable as possible - "[the Yellow Paladin's] heart must be mighty" - plus civilian search-and-rescue. A consistency in principles and morals even if it is a high price to stick to them.

(While for Blue and Green, they're opposites in the sense that Blue requires spontaneity, while Green requires meticulous observation. Where they are similar is they are crucial in gathering intel. Blue's sonar ability, Green's cloaking ability)

You may need Red for offense but also defense for the team i.e. she pushes another Lion to safety twice in the show: Keith supporting Shiro in the S1 finale, Lance sparing Allura damage in S6 (which was good, since she has her Altean healing ability for herself and also others).

I really really would've wanted to see Alfor using the Rail Gun though. I wanted to see what would piss him off enough or make him scared enough to activate it. In all his screentime he never truly lost his composure (Allura is mostly like that too, she clearly gets it from him) but that one weapon requires a huge burst of unforced passionate emotion to activate: much like how a war cry works. Fitting for the Fire element she is matched to and the guardian spirit of.

Alfor is an alchemist and more cerebral which is so different from his two successors are like. His fire burned differently but he was definitely passionate.

#I'm not entirely opposed to the Lion Swap: I just wanted it to be short-term #the red lion #alfor #vld #voltron #vld lions #voltron lions #vld keith #vld lance #fondly reminiscing about these beautiful machines designed by Studio Mir #vld analysis

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tanglepelt · 1 year

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Run Ghost Run 9

A03 Master Prev Next

Tim talks to Danny. Jason makes progress with Danny.

The traffic light café was good as a place as any. Really Danny wasn’t picky. He didn’t know the area or what else was around.

The café took its name seriously. The entire cafe looked like someone barfed up red, yellow, and green. Tables and chairs clash against each other. The only normal part of the whole café was where you ordered. A standard corner counter. Coffee machines and flavoring on the wall. Cash register upfront.

They sectioned off the tables from where you ordered with rope barriers.

The cash register was oddly placed. Scooted at the edge on the opposite side. A special menu has plenty of room up front. It’s like they fully expected someone to grab it and run.

The colors made him think of that kid, Robin.

Right now, the café was empty. Drinks sat on the counter a few iced drinks and hot drinks in to-go cups his best guess would be mobile orders. The mug is probably a worker's drink. The café had just opened. So, it was around 6 am.

The cashier had rushed to the back to grab the till. Left him all alone up front. That was until he felt a chill.

He felt it even before the bell rang. Another contaminated. A guy with black hair and blue eyes. Just a tad taller than him. He wasn’t sure why. But the guy looked at him as if he knew him. It gave him stalker vibes.

You know that second-look type thing. Except his posture stayed the same and his head didn’t move. Either this guy is very good at concealing his emotions or Danny was being paranoid again.

Considering everything that moved seemed to set him off. The latter was more likely. At this point, he just needed to expect everyone to set off his radar.

Danny planned to keep his order simple. No sugary concoction just an iced americano and a croissant. Nothing too awful. Honestly, who knows? It could cause gut problems. Coffee was not the best thing to be having. He didn’t care. Caffeine was essential.

He could feel the guy behind him still.

He was a weird one. Offering to pay for his items albeit forcefully. The dude came in front of him slamming a card down. Which was nice and all. This guy was just a tad bit intense. You didn’t do that back in Amity. Everyone in amity knew one another. You only bought things for friends and ppl you cared about. Not for some rando.

The guy introduced himself, Timothy Drake, call him Tim. He looked like he needed a nap, maybe a full night of sleep. His bags had bags. Getting coffee wouldn’t help that. Danny shouldn’t judge to harshly seeing as he was doing the same thing. The dude got 5 shots of espresso in a mug. The way the lady taking orders looked at him made it seem like a frequent order.

Tim kept trying to make conversation while they were waiting. Danny was hardly paying attention to him. Just enough to not be rude. He did buy his drink after all. When Danny had his drink, he had gone towards the exit. Danny stopped in his tracks to turn and face Tim. There is no way he just said he jumped out a window to get coffee.

“You… jumped out a window??? For coffee” He was not ready for what Tim had to say next

“Sneaking out of windows is my thing. Used to use them to go look for Batman and Robin.”

This guy was a whole different breed. He was essentially admitting to stalking them. How else would he know all these stories about Batman and Robin? There was no other explanation he was certainly way too old to be Robin and wasn’t the same build as Batman. Definitely a stalker.

The stories he had about them while impressive, the good in Gotham and all. It sounded like they cared a lot about Gotham. Heros themselves seemed to be attached to the government. Now he was most likely a wanted fugitive.

So that’s a no from him.

******

Jason has been doing his best to avoid his family. He’s seen the messages on the chat. There is no way he’s admitting that what happened to the replacement and Damian happened to him. He would ignore the whole glowing green situation.

No involvement from him.

Besides nothing has happened to him since then. He doesn’t want to deal with their constant worry and attempts would surely happen to keep him in. Jason did not have to follow orders from Bruce.

The bats had been busy handling the batgirl crises to get on his case. Jason wouldn’t be surprised if they just forgot to turn their comms back on. Steph did fake her own death before.

Any situation those two got in. They could handle it. Regardless he had his own mess to handle right now. There was a new gang messing with his territory adding in the fact they’ve been using children; he’s got his work cut out for him.

Then the weird dreams of some lady in black. She always faded in and out from white to black. Jason noticed the little crown holding her veil up. One with little bats at the tips of the points. All saying a prince needed help. Without it, there would be consequences. It had been non-stop. The last few nights had been restless.

Red Hood still had to patrol despite these dreams. Make sure he didn’t lose any street credit.

He had been alerted to a kid being spit out by a shadow. Could very well be the one Duke saw. His first guess was a meta with some form of teleportation power. Potentially two working together. Worst case scenario kid got nabbed by a meta. Which just wouldn’t do.

No kids getting hurt on his turf. It’s a well-known rule. He always followed through.

Potential metas in Gotham are not great. Nothing against the superpowered. It’s just that if they are easily manipulated or misled, they would end up as pawns. That would be bad for all parties involved. Gotham likes to twist and corrupt people.

If someone got their hands on a meta kid, it could be disastrous. Depending on the control of his powers he could injure someone or reveal his powers to the wrong person. Traffickers were still out in Gotham some prepared for metas. Who’s managed to get a hold of power suppressants.

He’s cleaned the streets of the worst of them. More always just showed up. Metas and children would be best to stay away from crime alley. He’d have to handle this efficiently.

Plan was simple. Get to the alley he was last spotted. Begin to search for him. Then one of two things. Ensure the kid safely got out of Gotham or take care of a potential trafficker and get the kid out of Gotham. The unlikely chance the kid wasn’t running from something and got displaced from his family. Jason would help get them reunited.

Scouting out for the kid was easy. He noticed him from the roof. Only for the kid to whip his head right at him. The best even scrounged up his nose as if he caught a wiff of something disgusting.

Look like he was going to have to act. If the kid spotted him following him would yield no results. Seeing as the kid was out alone no one in sight. Approaching may just work. With the shadow report in mind, he was going to have to watch his back. I’m the chance a shadow launched itself at him. He had a bright light on him. Light makes shadows stop, who knows it could have the same properties.

The closer he got he could see the kid had just checked out as well and the closer the temperature dropped.

Only jolting when he landed in front of him. Falling straight on his butt as a reaction.

Jason was able to look him over. It was the same kid from the library. The photo did not do justice to the kid’s injuries. His eye was dark more swollen the marks on the wrist looked far worse. The sweatshirt had rolled up from the fall.

The rope burns on his wrist were red and bruised. The very edges were puffy and a deep red line through the center. Cuffs had cut into the right where the burns were. Less then a week. His eye was swollen with deep red bags underneath them. Danny if he recalls the name properly was ghostly pale.

This was done against his will. Kid fought back causing the fallout to be worse. Someone purposely bound him. Jason had no doubts. Whoever hurt the kid had done so intentionally. Barbara had relayed the ecto acts to them and how to find them.

He looked them up. Pain to find.

Read them.

They needed to go.

Everything pointed to Danny running away. Which is expected when someone has the injuries he has. Having a full bag meant he knew there was a chance it was going to happen or had outside help.

The fall he took most of set off a hidden injury. He could smell iron in the air. Somewhere the kid was bleeding. And it had to be a lot. There was no playing nice. Danny was a flight risk. Jason had to change his stance in preparation for him to flee. The brat kept playing off the injury with a simple it will heal. Yea no. He heard the kid wince.

Danny was getting medical attention and protection. If the government was after him claiming, he was un-sentient and unable to feel pain he wasn’t going back. They were fooling themselves to get away with sentencing an entire species to experimentation or eradication.

He went to grab the kid. Only for his hand to phase through him. Danny looked like he was flickering going from translucent to fully visible. A meta maybe an alien, of some kind. If he listened to the government likely an ecto entity. It tracked. The research and running were factors in favor of him being an ecto entity.

As Danny moved so did the chill. Tracking his movement was easier with that. A second attempt for the same result. Where his hand had gone through was freezing. It had to be at least 5 degrees cooler than everywhere else.

He followed until he went through a building. One after another. When he lost sight, he tried to follow the chill in the air. Only for no luck to be had.

The rest of the patrol was searching. No luck. He was about ready to text the chat. Then Dick texted.

He had eyes on him.

Only for said brat to jump off the roof.

Jason was hoping he used his powers to land in the sewers below Gotham. Now Jason should have informed the chat about the intangibility. Confirm the suspicions of him being a Meta. Given he disappeared from the ground he’s sure they know that part. The intangibility part is probably not. The running theory in the chat was teleportation. Jason didn’t buy that. The kid ran from him through the buildings and didn’t disappear in the shadows. There could be limitations on his powers making it only useable so often so he couldn’t fully dismiss it.

If he did text the chat, it's headache city. He’d get lectured for ghosting them and he didn’t want to deal with that. Then chewed out for not reporting his encounter with Danny earlier. Besides Jason wanted to get Danny first.

The others were a bit much.

So here he was out in Gotham midafternoon. It’s not like he had a day job. His plan was to stake out the area to see if he could spot him. Walking around as Jason Todd. He had a bag with a mask and a red jacket. If he ran into him, he’d try the Red Hood first. Maybe a less intense approach. Not so grabby. Mention he is a crime lord. That way the kid would at least know he had nothing positive with the government. If anything, he was a wanted man.

Jason didn’t have all the facts. Enough to know the kid had every right to be wary of anything government related. He’d end up trusting a criminal much quicker than any government official. Although loose as they were the bats and birds had connections. They could be found online. The kid is obviously trying the whole solo thing. It couldn’t last forever.

The intangibility would be a problem. Perhaps the flickering wasn’t normal. He seemed to struggle through it. His breathing had picked up. Throughout the encounter, the temperature was constant. If he went closer the temp dropped. Thermals may come in handy in a search. He’d go that route if he failed to find him. There is always the chance the kid got spooked and ditched town.

For now, walking by back alleys would be his best bet.

Jason heard it before he saw it. The sounds of a mugger demanding money from someone. Then the sounds of a body falling on the ground. The same voice that lied about being fine was now complaining about spilling his new iced americano.

Was the kid a coffee addict like the replacement?

Grabbing his mask and jacket. He walked into the alley. It was a small space. About the width of two cars. A full dumpster in the alley. Behind the kid, there was a guy in a mask unconscious. The dude got what he deserved and was drenched in coffee. He’d take care of him after he dealt with the brat. Danny himself didn’t look so good.

He was sitting on the ground against the wall. Arm positioned over his stomach. Pain is evident even with his eyes closed. Much like their first meeting. Considering Danny hadn’t noticed him. This time he stood a chance. Danny looked like he was about to pass out. Could be as easy as grabbing the child.

The kid seemed to slump. Jason got directly in front of him with no reaction. Did he pass out?

Perfect time to try just grabbing him. No reaction when he touched his shoulders. He could be seriously injured even if he didn’t see them right off the back. He’s guessing he jolted the kid wrong when getting him in position. He was met with a bite on his shoulder. It went through his jacket.

Jason is positive he heard Danny hissing as well.

“This is the worst kidnapping attempt. 0 out 10” That opened a whole new line of questions.

“You’re the one passed out in an alley next to a mugger.”

Jason could hear the disappointment in Danny’s words “That was good coffee too.”

“Gonna run the minute I put you down or just plan to go intangible again.”

The air around them got colder than it had been. His foot especially. Huh. Not just intangibility. The brat froze his boot to the ground. Not that well, if he wanted, he could just pull his foot out.

“How about you just let me down and chill out.” Dick would like this kid.

“You need medical attention” Jason had an idea “If you’d rather ill call an ambulance, they get close and ill ditch. Don’t want any run-ins with the authorities myself.”

“NO. No cops no ambulances.” There was worry laced in his voice. He could work with this.

“Cool. We can just hang out here then” Kid wasn’t going to get out without using his abilities. He hadn’t yet so it seemed less and less likely.

“I’m fine” The go-to saying.

“Three choices. Me the crime lord, the ambulance, or we can stand here indefinitely. I’m sure one of those vigilantes will show their faces.”

“a crime lord?” The voice he spoke in led Jason to believe this might just work out.

“yup” Plain and simple. It was silent for about five or so minutes when the kid finally spoke.

“Fine. I’ll go with you. No cop or those weird vigilantes”

The ice disappeared and Jason let him down. He was happy to relieve him of his bag. Little incentive to have him not run. Danny was pouting and annoyed at the situation. Complaining that he was fine. The go-to lie. That he could carry his bag and walk just fine. Then dropped like a sack of rocks. Jason may have underestimated how badly he was injured. Getting him to a safe house would be simpler at least.

Once he was back in a safe-house kid passed out on the couch. He looked him over for any major injuries. Kid's torso was wrapped completely in bandages, the wrist burn he was aware of, and only several small surface-level wounds, which he tended to. Jason wasn’t going to do anything too invasive. The brat would no doubt run if he did. Its not like he would be able to keep him in the room easily. Intangibility and all, not to mention the ice powers.

He supposed it was time to hop back in the chat.

Red Hood: kids a meta who goes intangible and has some form of ice power.

Nightwing: Where have you been?

Nightwing: How do you know

Red Hood: met him obviously.

Robin: I wish to gather the knowledge of why we turned green. He fled the previous attempt.

Red Hood: so your saying the kid on the run. Likely has a government agency after him and you guys approached as a vigilante?

Nightwing: technically

Red Robin: i said he’d run

Red Hood: Kids going to be terrified of you guys. Be real with yourselves and think for a second.

Red Hood: whose the kid going to trust? The crime lord or the vigilantes.

Red hood: don’t answer. Seeing as he’s on my couch now.

#danny fenton #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp dc crossover #danny phantom #run ghost run

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lemondoddle · 1 year

Text

Having a normal one about color theory (shoutout @questionthewitness for pointing out some of these connections we are so normal <- lying)

edit: elaboration here!

[I.D. a mixed media chart of the characters from marble hornets placed around a color wheel in their own representative colors. tim in red, brian/hoody in yellow, jay in green and alex in blue while the operator is placed inside the color wheel. multiple lines, labels and arrows connect and point to the characters. tim, hoody and alex all have a red X behind their heads while jay has a yellow circle behind his head, not unlike a halo. a key next to hoody explains the X indicates a primary color and the circle a secondary color. the operator is also labeled with two arrows, the white part of it labeled "absence of color" and the black part "union of color". starting near the top left is a line connecting hoody and tim labeled "analogous: close, but not always together." there is also a small number one net to analogous. at the top right corner are lines connecting tim and alex reading "86: blue becomes red, red becomes blue." the words red and blue have been written in their respective colors. underneath that is lines connecting tim and jay labeled "complimentary: despite being opposites, they match perfectly." a single line points to the orange peeking out from alex's jacket labeled "compliment is stored within the self: isolation". alex and jay also have a line connecting them with a one, referring to the analogous definition. jay also has a singular line pointing to his hoodie labeled "palette also includes red and brown" red and brown being written in their own colors with brown having a small graphic of green and red mixing to create brown above it. finally, a line connecting hoody and alex reads "almost compliments but not quite. however; combining the two is necessary in creating green". green again is written in large green lettering. end I.D.]

#lane speaks #also please PLEASE ask me to elaborate i already have stuff written up for it and i didnt even have room to get into masky's color palette #anyways idk if this holds any specific meaning or genuine implication i just noticed it when looking at the standard outfits the chracters #are most often drawn in and COLOR THEORY MAKE BRAIN GO BRRRR #marble hornets #mh #art #nebulart

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ealvara7 · 4 months

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Beetlejuice Coloring Process! 🪲

Since my new artwork is gonna take me some time to complete, I decided that now would be a good time to talk about my coloring process for Beetlejuice's design! Specifically, I want to talk about picking out the palette for his eyes and outfit. It was a confusing process that's nice to look back and reflect upon.

Beetlejuice took me the longest to design... I almost gave up on completing him, but I'm glad I persevered! I really love how he came out in the end!

Since this will be a long post with several images, I will add a "read-more" link in case people wanna keep scrolling.

Otherwise, here's my coloring process!

After I finished laying out the colors for his skin tone and hair, I started thinking about how exactly I wanted his eyes to look like. I really like designing eyes in general because I feel it adds a lot more character to a design!

My initial idea was to give Beetlejuice slightly dark scleras with yellow pupils in order to create this eerie, uncanny effect.

The problem with that idea was that it ended up feeling... too eerie.

I felt as if it was leaning a lot more on him being a demon, with not enough leeway to show a more human side of him. As a result, it made it difficult to connect with him as a character... which was not what I wanted.

My next idea was to merge the color palettes from my two artist references - creaturologie and shnikkles.

While I felt like I was moving in a better direction, this made it very clear to me that I needed to find a palette that better suited my art style, because I felt the red here was just... too much? It ended up overpowering the green which was definitely not what I wanted.

Finally, I decided to stick to the original stage production and make his scleras white. This also made it easier for me to balance his eyes with his skin tone.

As for his pupils... I started thinking about amber stones, and how they illuminate in a way that is very subtle and beautiful...

That's when I realized that Beetlejuice's pupils didn't need to be consistently illuminated in order to have that subtle, eerie effect. They just need to create the illusion that they can illuminate wherever he went or however you looked at him.

With this in mind, I created the final version!

I couldn't be any happier with how it came out! I felt as if I finally hit that perfect balance between his human and demon characteristics! You're able to connect with him better, all while he retains the more frightening elements of his character.

That being said... his eyes can very much glow in the dark, if he so chooses.

I'd like to quickly touch on the outfit, because I had been going back and forth as to whether I wanted to add some semblance of color to his design or not...

I did try coloring his button-up with a magenta similar to the cartoon version... but I wasn't a huge fan of it. I realized I wanted more of a consistency to Beetlejuice's design.

This brought me to another challenge - how much value did I want to add in each part of Beetlejuice's outfit? I knew right away that I did not want to use pure black and white, but I still wanted to create a distinction of some kind for each outfit piece.

For this, I heavily referenced the musical - I've always loved how Beetlejuice's outfit wasn't a bright white. Rather, it was weathered out to be gray. It gave him a more gothic feel, which I fell in love with. I took it up a notch and gave him just a slight tinge of blue, as an homage to Corpse Bride - one of my favorite Tim Burton movies! I would eventually use a similar palette for Lydia in order for her and Beetlejuice to match.

With that, I completed the look of my Beetlejuice design! ✨

#my art #rambles #beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #coloring process

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tracidant · 1 year

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Writing prompt: The bats have an ugly sweater contest....AND GO!!!

(Minor warning for Jason's inappropriate sense of humor and the song "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.")

"So are we doing the Ugly Sweater party this year, Father? Now that I understand the concept, I plan on winning."

Bruce sighed. He didn't mind the ugly Christmas sweaters, but a certain adult child of his had a tendency to find the most inappropriate sweaters possible. Last year's seem innocent enough, until the lights were turned off. Bruce couldn't even imagine where one would find a light-up sweater with Batman and Catwoman doing very NSFW things on it.

"Oh, no. I know that look. Just because Todd tries to offend everyone, it doesn't mean the rest of us should be punished!"

"You're right, Damian. We'll do the party. I'll have Alfred talk to Jason. He'll listen to him."

A week later, Bruce was standing in his living room, in a God-awful pink and green plaid monstrosity of a sweater with bells that jingled when he walked. Selina was in a beautiful black and gold sweater-dress.

"Sorry, Bruce. I don't do ugly."

Bruce kissed the side of her face. "Nothing you could wear would look ugly anyway."

Dick, Barbara, and Haley were already there in matching reindeer sweaters talking to Cassandra, who had found a glow-in-the-dark sweater with elves that danced when you turned the power on.

He heard Alfred greeting someone at the door and braced himself. Female voice. He relaxed. Stephanie came running into the room yelling a minute later.

"Happy Ugly Sweater day, Waynes & Wayne-adjacents!"

Stephanie hugged everyone and showed off her sweater. She made it herself, and the quality was quite good. It was purple, of course, with real, blinking Christmas lights in red, yellow, and green. It also had Santa dressed like a 80s metal band rockstar, and said, "Have a rockin' good Christmas!"

Tim and Bernard arrived next. Bernard's sweater was a Freddy Kreuger Christmas sweater, and Tim's was "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer"-themed. (Complete with Grandma face down with reindeer tracks across her back.)

"Timbo, you're definitely in the lead for ugliest sweater, depending on what Damian, Duke, and Jason come up with."

Duke came in just then, as if on cue. His sweater was green, with gold tinsel and purple and blue ornaments hanging off of it. It had a hood too, shaped like the top of a tree, complete with a giant star on top. It was pretty horrible.

Damian and Titus came in next. Titus had on a beautiful argyle sweater, because apparently Damian's dog was too good for ugliness. Damian's sweater on the other hand, was truly ugly. It had mint green, fuchsia, teal, yellow, and black stripes, with a hideous Krampus on the front and back.

"Wow, Damian. That is absolutely the ugliest sweater I've ever seen."

The teen beamed. "Thanks, Grayson. I plan on winning this year."

"Well, you'll have to wait for Jason and see what nightmare-fuel of a sweater he found, but you have my vote."

"Pennyworth spoke to him about ugly vs. inappropriate, so we'll see. Todd isn't getting that prize this year."

Bruce heard the door again. He didn't hear Alfred chewing Jason out, so it must not be too bad. Then he heard...

"Sorry, Al. You told me if I wanted to wear an ugly sweater to wear one with a picture of me on it. I'm just following your rules."

Bruce heard Alfred sigh, and his pulse instantly started to increase. It must be bad. Maybe he could escape.

A moment later, Jason came in. "Here's your winner, bi-otches!"

Bruce looked at Jason's shirt, then closed his eyes. He was hoping he imagined it, but when he opened his eyes again, it was true. All the kids spoke at once.

"Seriously, Jay?"

"Oh. Em. Gee."

"Is that what I think it is?"

"No way, Todd! That has to be disqualified! This year is mine!"

"Not cool, brother. Not cool."

"Sorry, Bernard. I warned you my family's a bit crazy. Some more than others."

Finally Bruce found his voice. "Jason. Is that your autopsy photo on your sweater?"

#jason's inappropriate sense of humor #bruce wayne #jason todd #batfamily #damian wayne #happy but dysfunctional batfam #stephanie brown #tim drake #dick grayson #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth #selina kyle #damian's dog titus #haley grayson

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