#but dick thinks hes having normal civilian reaction to seeing dead body

[phantom-0-writer]

the case of the serial killer

3476 words (that was not suppose to happen lol - please send help)

ao3

Dick sat in front of his desk, eyes glazing over the same two lines for the nth time. He let out a tired sigh, and massaged his temples as he leaned back in his chair. 

The Bludhaven Police Department had been investigating the recent serial killings for the past month and a half, with Dick heading the case. Not that it was anything too out of left feild for Dick, he handled plenty of cases like this during his long run as Robin and even in his more recent years as Nightwing. Finding the clues, and piecing together the perfect picture came second nature to him at this point. 

The issue Dick was dealing with right now in fact had nothing to do with the case, instead it was something -or someone else. That someone, Danny No-Last-Name-For-You-Officer. 

The first time Dick had run into him he was doing his rounds when he caught some kids getting into a fight. Naturally he stopped in and the kids that had been trying to start a fight ran away at the sight of his uniform and car. Danny had been a little roughed up by then, but mostly unharmed. 

“Are you okay, kid?” Dick asked, kneeling to meet the kid eye-to-eye. 

Danny had looked at him with a defiance he wasn’t used to seeing in someone that wasn’t a cape, “I didn’t do anything.” He said instead of responding, pulling himself up to his feet. 

“Okay,” Dick nodded calmly, not wanting to frighten the kid. He stood up slowly, with his hands in view, “Are you hurt? I could patch you up, real quick, make sure nothing gets infected.” Danny wore ratty clothes, they had been nice once upon a time, but their time had long passed. 

Danny eyed him suspiciously, “No, I’m fine.” He said more calmly now. Roughly around the age of 15 to 17. Older than Damian, but younger than Tim.

Taking his chance, “You got a name kid?” 

“Danny.” 

“No last name?” Dick asked with a knowing smirk, letting himself appear more playful. 

“Not for you.” Danny gave him a mischievous smirk. Dick could tell the kid could clean up nice, but circumstances seemed unfortunate. 

Dick laughed at his response, to let him know that he wasn’t in any hot water. Danny watched him, waiting for his next move. “You hungry, Danny?” Dick asked casually, trying not to stare at the way the hoodie he was wearing sagged on his shoulders. 

“I’m a growing boy, I’m always hungry.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. Dick laughed again, more genuine this time. 

“Alright, my treat. Let’s go.” Dick said, gesturing as he led the boy to his car. 

“What?” He asked, surprised, Dick turned around to look at him when he didn’t follow. “Why?”

“You’re a growing boy.” Dick echoed. Danny snorted, but followed after him nonetheless. Dick put on the GPS on his phone, even though he knew the way as Danny sat in the passenger seat. 

They spent the next hour together, falling into a steady rhythm of conversation and joking. After their first meeting, Danny and Dick ran into each other more. The grocery store, playground, library, school, so on. For the first 2 weeks it had been coincidental, but slowly Dick found himself looking forward to their random meetings, happy to see that the kid was doing alright. 

That had been until the first murder had happened. 

It had been raining, colder than the weather usually was around this time of year, the streets mostly empty. Dick had been doing his usual rounds on patrol, wondering how Danny was doing like he always did. 

The world has a strange way of giving you what you want. 

As Dick turned around the corner, he slammed his brakes hard at the figure who had been standing in the middle of the road. Dick got out of his car, leaving it on the side of the road when the person didn’t move. As he got closer dread filled Dick’s gutt as he made out the figure to be a cold, drenched Danny clenching his chest. 

“Danny!” Dick called, rushing over to the boy. As Dick got closer he noticed the boy looked pale and his lips were turning blue. 

“Dick.” Danny said hollowly, his voice barely audible over the loud rain. Danny turned to look at him with a shaken and horrified expression. 

Dick held his shoulder firmly, leading him to the car and out of the rain. Danny allowed it without protest, which only caused Dick to worry more. “What happened?” He asked once the boy had huddled himself under the blanket Dick kept in his car (he had gotten it after the second time he met Danny during patrol, the boy always seemed cold). 

Danny turned to him, “He’s dead.” He answered morbidly.

“Who?” Dick asked concerned, he didn’t think the boy had a father or brother present, at least not one that he had mentioned. 

“I dunno. Just some guy.” No one he knew then. 

“Danny, buddy. Can you explain what you saw.” Dick tried again. 

Danny took a shaky breath, “I was just heading home, y’know, from the library. And I heard a scream, so I went to go check it out. And it was a guy just laying there in a pool of blood.” Danny looked down at his own hands, his fingers stained in red. 

“Can you tell me where?” 

“Around the corner, across from Susan’s.” Danny said quietly. He must have been really shaken up seeing it, it wasn’t exactly normal to see a bloodied body during your regularly scheduled activities. 

Dick could go there later as Nightwing to investigate, but right now he had bigger things to deal with. “Alright, put your seatbelt on.” Dick said, putting the car in drive. Danny, not fully there, quietly did as Dick asked. At the next redlight, Dick called the Chief and let her know about the potential murder case and that he would be calling off for the night. He’d probably have to bring Danny in for his testimony, but that was later. 

As the light turned green Dick looked over at his passenger again to find Danny already fast asleep, heater blaring in his face. Dick smiled softly at the sight as he drove them to his apartment. 

After Dick parked his car he hesitated for a moment before deciding to wake Danny up so he could shower and maybe eat something. He could borrow some of Tim’s clothes. 

“Hm.” Danny blinked barely at Dick, “We're are we?” He asked looking around at the parking garage. 

“My place. C’mon lets get you cleaned up.”  Dick unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. 

Danny blinked at him in surprise, “What? Why are we at your place?” 

“Well considering I don’t know where you live, I had to take you somewhere.” Dick shrugged casually, letting the kid think Dick didn’t know he was homeless was better than him thinking Dick was pitying him. Danny would not appreciate pity. 

Danny didn’t retort, a true sign of how weary he was.

Dick made a quick dinner. You can’t go wrong with pasta and air fried chicken. While the food finished cooking Dick busied himself in random mundane activities, not wantong Danny to find him looking over a case when he got out of the shower. Dick pulled out an old cookbook he’d gotten for his highschool graduation, a gag gift from Wally, when something between the pages fell out. 

Picking it up Dick saw an old photo, one of him standing between his parents proudly after one of their performances. Sometimes Dick would feel a deep sadness when he looked at pictures of his parents and realized he had forgotten their faces, their mannerisms and their laughs. But this time, when Dick looked at the picture and saw his dad smiling at the camera next to his mom, he remembered Danny. It was strange how Danny had the same cowlick as his mom, same nose arch as his dad, a jawline that looked like his almost, before his larger muscle definition came into play. At the time that line of thought had been disturbed by Danny walking back into the living room and stubbing his tie on the foot of Dick’s sofa. 

After that Dick had made sure they had each other’s numbers. He called Danny anytime the weather was bad, or it was cold, or there was too much food at his house or whatever random reason he could come up with. 

After about a week of Dick calling Danny over, Danny came over on his own one night. 

Dick was dressed in his Nightwing suit about to head out for the night when he heard the front door rattling. Realizing someone was trying to break into his apartment and knowing that it wasn’t his siblings (they would’ve used the window) Dick quickly threw his domino under his blanket and threw on the first pair of sweats he could find, just in time for the door to open. Slipping a small pocket knife into his hands, Dick positioned himself to get a good view of the living room where the trespasser still was. 

Getting ready to get the jump on the trespasser Dick happened to get a good look at and noticed the familiar mop of black hair, and overfilled school bag by the door. Coming into view, letting his hands relax by his side, “Danny?” he breathed confused and relieved. 

“‘Sup.” He nodded casually before noticing Dick’s appearance. “Your pants are backwards.” He commented candidly. Dick could feel himself flush in embarrassment, but that seemed to send the wrong impression on Danny, The younger boy leaned in to whisper to him, “You got a special friend over?” He raised an intrigued brow at Dick. 

“What?” Dick spluttered “No.” 

“Sad.” Danny shook his head in disappointment, making his way to the dining table and plopped his stuff on a chair and pulled out a few well-used notebooks. “The library closed early today, so I thought why not break into the local cop's place. I got a paper due tomorrow.” He explained half serious, half joking. “You don’t have to worry about me if you were about to head out somewhere.” How had he known? 

“Uh, yeah I was just going-” Think, Dick. “-Get groceries.” Dick internally winced at the suspicious brow Danny gave him. 

“At 10:30 PM?” 

“Yes.” All that Bat training, and for what? 

Danny blinked, “Cool.” he said dismissively, turning back to his homework. 

Not looking a gift horse in the mouth Dick left his apartment stuffing his weapons into an old travel bag he had on hand and changing in the empty elevator. 

When he got home from his patrol (earlier than he normally would’ve) remembering to buy the aforementioned groceries for some semblance of a cover story he found Danny fast asleep over scattered papers on the dining table. Putting away the perishables, Dick picked Danny up (who snuggled into his chest at the contact - yes, Dick was definitely completely okay after that) and laid him on the spare bed he kept on hand for his siblings. 

The next few times Danny snuck into his house (Dick had offered him a key, but Danny had refused) things had gone similarly if not slightly more smoothly until the completely predictable and unavoidable happened. 

Dick was halfway through his usual route as Nightwing, stopping a few muggings, and investigating the serial killer case some more. There were almost 9 different murders at this point with seemingly no similarities between the victims, other than the method of death. After going through the most recent crime scene Dick’s heard his phone go off. It surprised him slightly since he usually keeps it on silent, but he was alone so no harm no foul. 

It was a message from Danny, it was probably a meme or funny video he had found. Dick could use a pick me up after another crime scene bust so he opened it. The message was not what he had been expecting. 

Danno: sos?  Danno: im at ur place

Fearing the worst, Dick dialed his number. Danny hung up before the first ring, which did nothing for his nerves. Rushing in the direction of his apartment, not even bothering to do anything about the costume he was wearing, the worst scenarios rushed through Dick’s mind. 

When his apartment was in view the first thing Dick noticed was the open window that he most certainly had not left open. Quietly slipping onto the fire escape Dick peered through to see the scene. The only light that was still on was the living room light, likely where Danny was, but Dick easily noticed the hulking figure in the kitchen. He was easily too tall, and too muscular to be Danny. The figure moved slightly and the shape of a gun could be seen in his hands. 

Not wasting any time, Dick expertly slipped through the open window and tackled the figure to the floor, arm held at his back and escrima stick at his assailant's neck. 

“What the fuck-” The figure said startled at Dick’s unexpected attack, 

Now with a better view Dick was able to see the familiar red helmet and leather jacket the assailant wore, “Jason?” Dick asked, surprised. 

“I thought we were past this. Y’know let bygones be bygones, or whatever.” Jason joked easily, wiggling his way out Dick’s slacking grip. 

The situation finally unfolded in front of Dick. Danny had been in his apartment and Jason as Red Hood had also come to his apartment. Danny thought someone had broken in, and Jason also thought someone had broken in. Was Jason about to shoot Danny? Where was Danny? 

Quickly getting up, and ignoring Jason’s earlier remark he walked through the kitchen and into the living room, “Danny?” He called, not wanting to scare the kid. 

Jason gave him a confused look, but came to an understanding on his own when the familiar teenager peeped out from behind the couch holding a knife in his hands. His expression only became more shocked after he saw Dick, and it took Dick a second too long to remember that he was still wearing his Nightwing costume. 

“Aw shit.” 

Danny blinked at him, regaining his composure and pointing the knife at Jason, “Friend of yours?” 

After all the explanations had been explained they all sat around the couch, a stack of empty pizza boxes between them. 

“You saw me with a gun and you decided you could take me with a knife?” Jason scoffed at Danny, helmet left forgotten under the table. 

“I could take you without the knife.” Danny rolled his eyes, taking the last slice of pizza. 

“Big talk.” Jason puffed out his chest in some strange show of alpha male behavior. 

“Are you askin’ for a fight?” Danny challenged. 

Fearing the direction the conversation was taking Dick stepped in “Alright, you’re both pretty. Let’s break it up.” 

That had just been last week. 

Two days ago Dick had gotten a call from Danny. Danny usually didn’t call, preferring to text, but would usually answer when Dick called, 

“Hey, Dickface.” Danny greeted snottily. Dick noticed he was out of breath. 

“Hey, Danny. What’s up?” 

“You got the night shift today?” Night Shift was what Danny had taken to calling his vigilant duties. There was a lot of movement on Danny’s end of the phone, but Danny was always moving around so Dick hadn’t thought it was weird. 

“Yup. Whatcha’ up to?” Dick asked curiously, cleaning up his mess from dinner, leaving Danny’s portion in the fridge for later. The fridge was more stocked than it had been since Dick had moved in, he had purposely bought food that Danny would like, and the boy had finally begun filling out his skeleton. 

“Oh y’know, cardio. Getting those steps in.” He let out a winded chuckle, “When you get the chance, check out the warehouse on 12th street later tonight. The one with the cracked pavement outside.” 

“You got a lead?” Dick asked surprised, “From where?” He was suspicious, just curious. 

“A friend of mine told me. Thought you should know.” There was a thud in the background, like something hit metal. 

“You okay?” Dick asked concerned. 

“Yeah, it was a cat.” He said easily, Danny let out a hiss of annoyance, “Gotta go, Later.” He hung up before Dick could say anything else. 

Dick let out a tired sigh. The kid had grown on him like fungus. Though not entirely unappreciated, Dick was not ready to hear his siblings' inevitable comments on how he took after Bruce. Didn’t help that Danny happened to fit the profile. 

The warehouse had given them a few clues, but they still weren’t any closer to finding the serial killer. 

Danny hadn’t come by the apartment after that phone call. Or responded to any of Dick’s texts. 

This morning when he was getting dressed he got a call from the precinct. It was still 30 minutes before his shift. 

“Grayson, this is Officer Gomez, the Chief wants you in as earliest as you can get here,” Officer Gomez spoke urgently. 

“I can be there in 15.” He reported, slipping on his shoes and grabbing his keys. 

“Alright.” Gomez hung up. 

As soon as he got in the doors the Chief was waiting for him by the entrance. “Took your sweet time, huh Grayson.” she chided. 

“Dunno what you mean, Chief. I’m 15 minutes early.” He gave her a charming smile, and the Chief rolled her eyes. 

“There’s been a development in your case.” The Chief started as they walked together, Dick nodded at her in acknowledgement. But the Chief hesitated, before speaking again. That was unlike her. “There was another murder victim found, in the east district. Our night crew got an alert.” 

Most of the victims had been in the west district, based on the location south may have been a more appropriate transition. It could be a coincidence or it meant the killer had a personal vendetta against these people, or maybe just the victim from the east district. It felt like all the pieces Dick had managed to put together were falling apart again. 

“Our latest victim was a male, caucasian potential of mixed descent, age estimated around 15 to 17,” that was younger than the other had been, “black hair, blue eyes, roughly 5’ 5”.” The chief turned to look at him now, “goes to Westwood High School, prefers juice to soft drinks, always feels cold to touch,” 

Dick looked at Chief in confusion, these were incredibly specific descriptions, and they sounded awfully familiar. 

She continued, “He lets his hot chocolate get cold before he drinks it,” Danny had done that once when Dick had brought him in for his testimony. “And he plucks the marshmallows out of it with a fork, and called it a snowman.” 

No.

“You keep extra snacks for him in the glove box of your car even though it’s against protocol,” 

No,

Dick hands were clammy when he pulled out his phone from his pocket. Personal use of devices was strictly against the rules. Chief said nothing. Dick found Danny’s contact easily in his recents tab. He held it up to his ear waiting for the kid on the other side to answer with his usual “What can I do ya’ for officer.” or some iteration of the classic “Hey, Dickface.” 

It went to voicemail. 

Danny always answered his phone, and when he didn’t he would text Dick a reason within the next five minutes. So he waited. 

It had been 10 minutes already. Why wasn’t he responding? 

Dick called him again. Voicemail. 

Nononono. Not again. 

How was it that Dick was always too slow. 

Too slow to save his parents. 

Too slow to get to Jason in time. 

And now too slow to solve this case.  

Dick Grayson was a failure in every way that mattered. 

He looked at the familiar body ready to be put into an ice chamber for further examination in the morgue. 

“Go home for the day, Grayson.” 

Go home and do what? 

Danny’s notes were still sprawled over the coffee table. He said he had a test next week. Danny’s food was still in the fridge. His bed was still a mess, and his clothes were on the floor. 

“Give me the case files. I’ll look over them again.” He didn’t recognize his voice when he spoke, he wasn’t even sure it was his. Chief didn’t argue, handing over the files. 

The day had gone by and Dick was still stuck in front of his double monitor desk, pictures and words blurring together in nonsensical smudges on the screen. 

“Grayson.” Chief called him. Dick looked up, catching a glimpse of the dark night sky from the glass doors. How long had he been here? 

“Yeah?” He responded dryly. 

“Head home.” 

Dick wasn’t sure when he had gotten to the front of his apartment, only realizing he had when the keys jiggled loudly missing the keyhole on the door. 

When he got inside he found Jason sitting casually on the couch, reading a book. “Oh Honey, you’re home.” He joked. 

Dick couldn’t find it in himself to laugh. 

Danny’s papers flew from the wind of the open window. Dick closed it. When he didn’t pick up the papers, Jason bent down to do it. “Anyways, where’s the kid? Didn’t you want me to help him with his homework or someshit. I need to beat it into his head that I’m better at him.” Jason said the last part loudly, letting it echo through the house in case Danny was hiding in its crevices. 

Dick turned to him, Jason looked back at him for a long moment before the mischievous look slipped from his eyes. “Dick, where’s the kid?” 

There was a deafening silence in the apartment. 

“He’s dead.” The table under Jason’s hands let out a loud crunch, as his face darkened. 

Before Jason could breathe an air of the threat of murder that was definitely ready to roll from his tongue, there was a quiet clatter in the kitchen. 

“Who’s dead?” Danny asked, appearing in the living room with a large bowl of cereal he was shoveling into his mouth.

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

table of contents

#this was originally suppose to be a biosibling danny and dick but by the time i got to the reveal it felt kinda forced so i dropped it #but its still kinda in there if u like the idea #timeline who? #dick grayson #nightwing #danny fenton #danny and dick #jason is also kinda there #major character death except its danny #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #danny got flashbacks to his parents basement activities when he saw that dead body #but dick thinks hes having normal civilian reaction to seeing dead body #jason and danny wanna duke it out #dick is being responsible #this is exactly the kinda bs i feel like jason would say #argue w the wall #dick got bruce's adoption tendencies #dick: i've only had danny for half a day but if anything happens to him i will kill everyone then myself #danny was just trying to help dick out w his case and what better way then to get the murder to murder u then pull an uni reverse #danny's in the living room lol #get it bc he's dead #bruce: says smt #danny snikering: over my dead body #dick: thats not funny danny #danny: its kinda funny #jason makes those exact jokes: i think its funny #danny instantly: nvm its not funny #steph and cass puppy dog eyes: can we keep 'im pretty please #kind of angst

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children Ch. 8

What's this? An update! Massive thanks to my betas for helping me get through this chapter <3

In Which: A few answers are given to the family and Danny is rudely awoken

[Side note: If you wanna know the general ages of the batfam, its listed in the AO3 version. I also talk about katanas in the end notes ^-^]

AO3 | Prologue | 7 | [ 8 ] | 9 DAMIAN INFORMED TODD—and Drake when he arrived on his bike sometime later on—that the boy whose face is plastered across the monitor was neither a picture of himself nor of Father.

Drake took one glance at the monitor and sighed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Just when I thought this day was getting better.”

“What, did that café on 5th finally let customers supersize their drink?”

“God that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?” Drake sighed wistfully. “Nah, but I did get a lead on where some of that stolen Cadmus tech might’ve ended up. I was gonna spend the night following up on it, but I guess we have to deal with,” he gestured to the monitor, “whatever this is.”

Todd leaned against the edge of the computer, arms crossed over the red bat insignia on his chest. “What are we dealing with this time, brat? A clone? An alternate universe counterpart? Magic shenanigans?”

Maybe. Perhaps. All of those were perfectly valid conclusions for the enigma that was Daniel James Fenton. (Why Fenton and not al Ghul? Or even Wayne?)

Damian, too, was a genetic experiment; a ‘test tube baby’ as Drake put it at times. Damian was born for greatness, created to be perfect. The perfect soldier. The perfect assassin. The perfect heir. Was this boy—Daniel—like him as well?

A failed one, then. Perhaps the precursor to Damian’s own existence. But that would not explain why the boy was allowed to exist for so long. His grandfather demanded perfection, especially from those of his own blood. If the boy was a failure, he would have been eliminated immediately, not sent to live with some eccentric scientists in the Midwest.

Damian was not naïve enough to think that his mother and grandfather did not keep secrets from him. On the contrary, he expected it. The League of Shadows dealt in secrets as often as it did in death. Certain information was worth its weight in gold, whether it was given or buried away.

But he could not help the sharp pang in his chest. A lightning strike, quick and electrifying at the notion that they kept secrets about their family from him.

His father’s face flashed in his mind. The shock turned into a slow, dawning horror. That flicker of light, of recognition, as he scrutinized the contents of the flash drive and cross-referenced it with a public database.

And grief.

Damian recognized the grief.

Alfred, too, nearly dropped his tray of fresh-baked cookies when he stepped in front of the monitor. His usual unflappable demeanor was momentarily broken at his father’s whispered “Sixteen years. Alfred— he’s sixteen years old.”

His father knew of the boy. He was allowed to know of Daniel when he was not allowed to know about Damian.

------

Grayson returned to the cave with a distinct lack of energy in his step. His mask dangled off the tips of his fingers, chin angled downwards and covered largely by his hand. For a split second, their eyes met. Grayson shifted his gaze away, scratching the back of his neck. Father told him, then. Damian wondered how much Father revealed to his favorite son.

Damian clucked his tongue and buried himself deeper into the chair, arms crossed and pointedly looking away. If it was not for his accursed ankle, he’d have headed out to the training ring to take his frustrations out on the dummies.

“Oh, thank god you’re here, Dickface. Damian’s completely out of it.”

Damian shot him a look. “Shut up, Todd.”

“Leave him alone, Jay. Is Tim back yet?”

Drake emerged from the changing room in a dark green shirt, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He took one long sip before exhaling. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“O-kay…” He pressed his hands together, mouth thinned into a grim line. “Uh, hey Tim, glad to see you back safe. Bruce is coming down soon to explain some things.” He let out a deep sigh, carding a hand through his hair. “This kind of thing would probably be better with the girls around, but I—god, I don’t know.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know whether to call Steph and Cass in Hong Kong, or don’t know what’s going on?”

“Yes.”

------

When Father arrived, Pennyworth following dutifully behind him, it was with an aching slowness in his gait. His steps measured and precise, preternaturally quiet as he made his way to stand by Damian’s chair. Damian sat up straighter, shoulders squared and back an inch away from the backrest. The rest, even Todd, stood at attention; an ingrained habit among Robins and an amusing instinct even among the senior heroes of the Justice League when it came to facing the Batman.

His father kept a steady hand on Damian’s shoulder, and Damian, shamefully, leaned into the touch; his head inclined towards his father’s hand so much so that he could feel the ends of his hair being pushed up slightly as he brushed against his father’s forearm.

He spoke with his usual monotone, as if he was heading a Justice League meeting as opposed to unveiling the secrets surrounding that boy. He brought forward the few photos they obtained from the flash drive. “A few weeks ago, we were alerted of suspicious movement from the League of Shadows in Amity Park, Illinois. Their objectives are, as of now, unclear, though it appears to be tied to the death of Amity Park resident, Daniel Fenton.”

One photo was a standard ID picture people get for their driver’s license, the lighting deliberately horrible so that any attempt to look decent would always end in failure. Another photo was a little better; a candid scene of him chatting with two others his age, a Caucasian girl in gothic-style clothes and an African-American holding a sleek, but still very outdated PDA. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, hand reaching up to his face to stifle a laugh. There were other photos like this, some candid, others posed. At the forefront of each, a boy that looked too much like his father, too much like Damian.

His father glanced at the photos. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again, he fixed them on some distant stalactite in the Cave. “Around six months ago, Daniel was pronounced dead in a vehicular accident. A body was present, but according to police reports, he was identified via his driver’s license as opposed to any kind of DNA profiling.” He leaned over Damian’s chair to pull up a profile of Masters. “Our source—Vladimir Masters, mayor of Amity and a friend of the Fenton family—indicated his belief that Daniel is actually alive. I am inclined to agree.”

“He’s your son, isn’t he,” Drake said, more of a statement than a question.

Father gave a curt nod. “I cannot say for certain until I can perform a DNA test, but I highly suspect that to be the case.”

“First the demon spawn, now this. Great.” Todd made a hand motion towards the screen. “You know, Bruce, not knowing you have a kid once might be a coincidence, but twice? How do you do that?”

“As of three hours ago, I was still under the impression that my son never made it to term.”

“What?”

“Over sixteen years ago I was involved in a mission that put Ra’s and I on the same side. During that time, Talia and I entered a relationship that resulted in a pregnancy. Though initially ecstatic, she eventually led me to believe she miscarried the child and pushed me away. For what ends, I do not know, but trust me Jason, if I knew—” He paused, the hand that was not on Damian’s shoulder curled into a tight fist.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why she hid it from me then doesn’t matter. Why Talia wants him back now is important. Judging from Daniel’s records, he was adopted into the Fenton family as an infant and has since lived a seemingly normal life as a civilian. His adoptive parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, are brilliant scientists and engineers focused on the field of paranormal studies. Eccentricities aside, they have zero connections to the League of Assassins or any other concerning parties.”

“So why now?” Dick asked, shifting his concerned gaze from Bruce to the static picture of Danny’s tired smile. “Why, after all this time, decide that now would be the best time to recover him?”

------

Danny’s experienced plenty of rude awakenings before, but waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to avoid his kidnapper-slash-assassin-slash-biological-mom launching a surprise attack takes the fucking cake. He can’t believe he’s saying this, but thank god for all those late night ghost attacks that conditioned him to be a light sleeper. And, of course, the League’s insistence that everyone be in optimal condition regardless of how little sleep you actually got.

Danny kicked Talia off of him, ripping his blanket away before scrambling to his feet. Seriously, if the universe decided to spontaneously give him powers again, he’d really like an upgrade to his ghost senses, please and thank you. Something that works on humans and not just ghosts. Like spidey-senses. He’d really, really like some spidey-senses.

“Your reaction times have improved considerably,” Talia said.

He eyed the katana sheathed beside his bedroll. “Thanks. Who could have guessed that constantly challenging someone to a spar in the unholy hours of morning would make them paranoid to sleep too much? Really, how am I supposed to grow taller at this rate? ” If he could just get it--

She smiled, taking a step forward. “Prepare yourself.”

“Heh.” Danny stepped further away from Talia, keeping his back to the mouth of the cave. One hand stretched in front of him and the other, coated in a green light, was kept hidden behind his back. “Am I actually gonna get some answers today?”

“Let us make it interesting. Last 10 minutes against me and I shall tell you more about your brother.” Talia twirled her blade. “If you happen to draw blood, you may ask any one thing of me.”

“Anything?”

“Within reason.”

His face caught between a grimace and a smile. He’d rather be sleeping right now, but if he had to be awake, then he’d better make the most of it. “Deal.”

Talia’s smile dropped. She veered her body to the right, barely dodging the streak of bright green that whizzed from behind her. The ectoplasmic energy that surrounded the katana bled away as the handle connected with Danny’s outstretched hand.

She quickly glanced back at Danny’s bedding. Beside it lay an empty sheath. “You have telekinesis?”

He shrugged. “It comes and goes.” Yeah, no way was Danny gonna admit that seven-out-of-ten-times he forgot that he had telekinesis. Besides, that shit was hard to do when he wasn’t Phantom.

“A surprise attack from behind is a sound strategy, Daniel. Though it’ll take a lot more than that to harm me.”

Danny pointed to the side of his cheek. “Are you sure about that?”

Talia frowned. She reached up to her face. Her fingers brushed against her cheek and came away with a thin streak of blood.

Danny grinned, pointing his blade at his opponent. “First blood goes to me.”

------

Fact: most fights don’t last long. An average street fight could last anywhere between 25 to 40 seconds, and sword fights rarely last over a minute. Like Talia said, the goal of a fight was to end it with as few injuries to oneself as possible. Humans, even the most skilled ones, can rarely last long in a fight. Prolonged combat is suicide; it makes you tired, makes your muscles heavy. It’s nothing like what Hollywood would have you believe.

Even with Danny’s own enhanced stamina and Talia holding back, he couldn’t last a full ten-minute spar. If Talia didn’t finish him within twenty-five seconds, then he’d fall by his own human limitations.

But the goal wasn’t to spar continuously for ten minutes.

He only had to last that long.

Danny sprinted out of the cave. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, a thin line of deep orange breaking apart the wide expanse of blue-black sky above. He couldn’t see shit; great news since that meant there’s a good chance Talia couldn’t either, but that doesn’t fix the fact that he can’t see.

Nearly stumbling on the ice, Danny veered to the left. The edges of the lake stopped at towering rocks twice Danny’s height, leaving little room for cover. Though if he remembered correctly, there should be a few crevices here and there to hide in.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, Daniel.”

Shit—

Danny stopped. He brought his sword up to parry Talia’s strike and twisted away, putting distance between them.

Well, so much for just avoiding her for 10 minutes.

He adjusted his grip, keeping his sword steady and eyes trained on Talia as they circled each other. Danny lunged with an overhead strike. Talia used one hand to block the downswing by gripping his wrists. She thrust her sword forward, the tip harshly poking Danny’s abdomen.

“Less than three minutes.” Talia let his wrist go, Danny’s arms slumping to his sides.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. “Damn, I thought I’d last longer than that.”

“You made a good effort,” Talia assured him. “Putting as much distance between us at the beginning was a good strategy. You recognized the win conditions immediately and attempted a battle of attrition.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am very proud of you habibi, especially as you managed to draw first blood.”

A warmth grew in Danny’s stomach at the words, heating his cheeks. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work, honestly.”

“It was clever; half a second later and you might have even killed me. You are an al Ghul through and through” She brushed his hair out of his face. “What would you like as your prize, then?”

Danny’s heart clenched. He frowned, dropping his arm to his side. If I was such an al Ghul, then why didn’t you keep me? The question lodged itself in his throat, stifling his thoughts. It was something he’d been wondering for a while, actually, in the moments of solitude he had at the compound. Talia, during their training, would always remark at his potential. How talented he was, how adaptable he was, how much greater he would have been if he had been trained at a younger age.

Well then, why wasn’t he? Why did she give him up?

But each time he tried to ask, his tongue would turn to lead and the moment would pass, the question still left unsaid and simmering at the back of his mind. A Pandora’s Box that held none of the world’s evil but all of Danny’s possible shortcomings.

He could ask the question now.

He could.

He didn’t.

“Why did you take me?”

Talia tilted her head. “It is because you’re my son.”

“No. Not that. It has to be something more than that. You had sixteen years to come back for me—or, hell, you could have just never left me.” His breath hitched, fingers mussing his hair and hiding his eyes. “Why else did you take me?”

“It is true that there was more than one reason why we decided to retrieve you from Amity Park. One of which is because you are my son and an heir of the Demon’s Head.” Talia stilled. The dark skies of dawn made it impossible for him to read her. “The second reason was to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me…to protect me?”

“Knowledge of the ghosts of Amity have spread through the more insidious parts of the world. There are many out there who would pay exorbitant fees to study one of you or to use you.”

Use him? What did she mean by—

Oh.

Ghosts—Amity Park’s brand of ghosts—were a new element that the world had to contend with. Amity Park might have a crime rate of zero but that wasn’t the case everywhere else. Theft, assault, murder; the world was rampant with crimes and criminals clawing their way to the very top. Having ghosts, even ones with the most basic powerset, would be a huge advantage.

“There’s no way that would work,” Danny insisted. “Most ghosts just want to be left alone, and the ones that want to wreak havoc would never work with humans. The only reason they even work with halfas like me at times is because they still consider us as ghosts.”

“If my sources are to be believed, ghosts might not even get a choice.”

Danny’s blood curdled in his veins.

No.

Someone’s found a way to control ghosts.

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

[black-streak]

Little Pistol - The Investigation

Chapter 14

First Previous Next

I'm really trying to continue this, I promise. I know the updates are rare and spaced, but I promise this isn't being abandoned. Please let me know of any changed usernames so I can update the taglist, assuming you still want to be tagged. Song by Sugarcult.

Highly recommend listening to the song, it's so fitting for the inner turmoil here.

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~---~

Jason's hesitance in the doorway was noticeable as Tim led the silent lady into the living room of their safehouse in the Coventry. This particular location chosen for its proximity not only to their base of operations, but the rooftop he'd originally pinned their guest to. Their guest truly was silent too, not only from lack of speaking, but the movement of her clothing, her steps, her shifting weight all completely muted into nothingness. Had he not felt her solid wrist within his grip, Tim could easily pass her off as a ghost. Even still, the life form trailing him felt haunting. A sense of foreboding laying like a thick blanket over the room.

Coming to a stop in front of an armchair, he pressed down on her shoulder, watching as she complied, body lowering into the chair while maintaining perfect eye contact. The whisper of what wanted to be a smile stayed on her lips as she settled, as though they were old friends meeting over afternoon tea. It put him on edge. 

She shouldn't feel so comfortable with both of them closed in on her, anonymity on the verge of collapse as they scrutinized her every move. 

Tim waved Jason off as the other reached for a set of ropes.

"Don't bother, she can escape them."

He seemed to mull the words over before narrowing them down to their based meaning, "You're saying she chose to be captured."

"Yes."

Their guest's eyes flashed in mild amusement before settling back into the blank void of almost smiling. It was creepy, like a porcelain doll come to life for a flicker of a second only to make you second guess if it ever happened at all the next. 

"Why isn't she talking? She seemed to have plenty to say before," Jason squinted at her, keeping a reasonable distance, one hand hovering over his left holster.

Tim shook his head, "She responded to one question, then ignored the rest."

"Huh. So like a puzzle then."

"What." Tim deadpanned.

"No no, hear me out," Jason waved his hands about, seemingly catching the lady's attention as she followed the motion, "she answered one question, right?"

"Yes?" He folded his arms, waiting to see where Jay was going with this.

"So it's not that she won't respond to anything. Only to things she decides are worth answering. Whether that means things she sees as important or just too noteworthy to pass up, I'm not sure, but she seemed pretty quick to jump on Bat-wannabe and demon spawn's case, so I'm hedging towards the latter here."

A startled giggle makes both men snap their head towards the cause.

"Demon Spawn," she mumbles, earning a grin from Jason and an eye roll from Tim. Jason was just grateful he'd forgone the helmet tonight so she could see the positive reaction.

"Definitely the latter then," Tim sighed, reaching to rub his eyes, only to drop his hand back down at the reminder of the mask pressed to his fingers.

"Easy peasy then," Jason sat on a crate normally used as a makeshift table in the barren apartment, unbothered by the way it made his knees knock into the lady's.

"Sure. Easy."

"Yeah, all we gotta do is intrigue her enough to want to talk to us. And that can't be too difficult, otherwise she wouldn'ta bothered talking to begin with, isn't that right, sweetheart?" He leaned towards her with a friendly smile. One that wasn't returned.

"Yeah, seems to be working wonders," Tim mocked.

"Just give me a sec, I haven't even tried," he waved Tim off, focusing on the figure before him, "so, you seem pretty calm considering the circumstances. That got more to do with your confidence in your abilities to escape or more an interest in being captured?"

Silence.

"Were you hoping we'd use the ropes? I could bring them back if you're into that kind of thing."

More silence.

"What's got you tongue tied anyhow? See something you like?"

Dead silence only this one came with a delicately raised eyebrow and a glance in Tim's direction, as if to say, 'He always this cocksure?'

Jason lept on the action even still.

"Oh, he got your interest back there? I guess that makes sense since you talked to him first. That reminds me, how'd you react so fast when that lowlife got that lucky swipe in, anyhow? Unless you were already there?"

Her eyes slowly drifted back over to him at the lack of speech from the other, not reacting even to the callout.

"Feel free to dazzle us at any time," Tim called over.

Her lips twitched up.

"Oh, I see. Only willing to interact with little red then?"

A head tilt.

"What about demon spawn? Anything to say about him? Or what about big brother pretender?"

Her eyes snapped up to his, narrowed and... calculating?

"Think I struck a chord?" He turned towards Tim who only shrugged only to be wrenched back to focus as a tiny hand gripped his arm tightly, the previously complacent figure now tilted forward and staring him down with a hard look, flickering over his face as though the mask wasn't even there. Before he could even twist her arm away, she murmured out, "You're the second Robin, aren't you?"

Oh. Maybe calling Dick their big brother even jokingly was a mistake. Oh well, too late now,  and what did it really matter if she knew? Not as though it connected back to his civilian form.

"Yeah. You figured that out pretty quickly."

"Faked your death? To get away?" She asked, voice gruff and heavily accented.

"Died and brought back. Weird magic shit. Almost lost a bit of me on the way back."

"Should you be telling her that?" Tim bit out.

"What's it matter if I do? What's she going to do with that? She's not even from this country. Besides, you want her to trust us enough to talk, might as well instill a little trust in return, ya know? Not like we're interrogating her, otherwise you woulda taken over by now," Jason eased Tim again, his own words sparking his own thoughts back into motion, "Which reminds me, you travel here the normal way? Cause it'll be pretty easy to look up young women who've traveled here from France."

"Weird magic shit," was the deadened response.

"Touché."

"Why's your voice so hoarse?" Tim asked, finally moving forward to rejoin the conversation fully, only to watch her rub her throat.

"Not much of a talker?" Tim continued, meeting her eyes, "how long since you held a full conversation with someone then? Days? Weeks? Months?" Her eyes flickered, "Months then? Why? Why not talk? Why talk to us now?"

Her entire figure seemed to droop, caving into itself and finally she responded to him directly, "I'm alone."

While Jason seemed confused, it's like she struck something deep within Tim. Something that understood. That wanted to reach out and contradict her just so they could both be wrong.

And right as he reached out to do just that, the seat beneath her opened up in a pool of black ink that dragged her under only to close back up, leaving his hand outstretched towards an empty chair.

"Fuck, now I'm even more confused," Jason groused, standing up and kicking away the crate as he went.

"Yeah…"

#ml x dc #maribat #timinette #timari #Dark!Timinette

[catxsnow]

TAKE THE BULLET B.W.

Request:  I saw your post about requests! Can you do a Batman x reader (from the animated movies if you do him) where the reader is apart of the JL and almost dies by jumping in front of a bullet during a mission with the team to save Bruce? Fluffy/angsty stuff. 

Warning: injury, angst, fluff

A/N: I’m so sorry it took this long! It’s been sitting in my WIP for ages and I just never got around to doing it until now 

Gif not mine

Word count: 2.3k 

You knew the risks of being in the Justice League.

A constant target on your back, the willingness to lay down your life to protect the people of your world, even the on demand requirement of your presence when someone was endangering the world. The second that you joined the team, you lost your freedom to have a normal life.

When it came down to it, it was all worth it. Knowing that you saved hundreds, thousands, even millions of lives because you stood up against an evil greater than yourself. The nightmares that haunted your sleep because of the horrors that you saw. The pain you endured because you refused to give up. Everything was worth it.

Your whole life you had been the one to willingly put yourself through all this torture to save lives. It was engraved in you to make the world a better place, no one expected you to make a difference like this one. No one expected you to be a hero, one of the best at that.

For so long you were on your own. You had your friends in your civilian life but no one truly to understand what you had to endure as a superhero. That was until the Justice League formed. It was a rocky start - a bunch of people who didn't believe that they needed to be a part of something bigger.

While many of the heroes found it a burden to have people that relied on you, you found it a blessing. People to finally understand who you were, that accepted you for the person that you were, not some freak. This team meant everything to you, enough that you would give up your life for your teammates.

And that was exactly what you had done. It was a dangerous mission, everyone knew that. As prepared as everyone was, they weren't expecting you to take the bullet for Batman. You saw the blast coming while he was fighting off another monster. There wasn't enough time to get him out of the way and he had no idea that it was coming for him.

So, in a moments haste, you had put yourself between the blast and him. Batman might have driven you crazy half the time, but he was only human under that suit. He would have never survived the blast. You barely did and your suit was impenetrable.

Batman didn't make friends. He didn't stick around to get to know his teammates and he certainly wasn't chatty with anyone. You found him insufferable most of the time but that small part of you couldn't help but be intrigued by him. Batman acted as if he were Superman even though a bullet would stop him just as it would anyone else.

He was meticulous with everything he did. No matter the situation, he knew every detail about everything. Batman was cold hearted, except for the split second time that you got to see him smile.

The team watched in horror as you fell to the cement. Your suit was half disintegrated and your breathing shallow. The blast had almost killed you. Almost.

It was Hal that got you out of there, bringing you to safety and away from the fight that you could no longer be a part of. Everyone had seen you go down. As devastation filled them, so did determination. They couldn't lose this fight, not after what you had done for them all. Batman most of all.

Only when you were safe in the infamous Batcave did Hal leave your side again. At the moment, there was no better place for you. He knew the secret identity of Batman, he also knew that Bruce was going to want to be the one to help you. After that night, he owed you a life debt.

As much as Batman liked to make everyone think he was invincible, he was only human. Humans had a heart, and with that little move that you did, you had gotten right into his.

><

You woke up cold. The air was still and held a frosty bite to it. Your whole body ached and as you tried to move it flared even more though your nerves. An IV was stuck in your arm and you were no longer in your suit. It wasn't the new clothes or the medical supplies that got you curious, it was the location.

No one in the Justice League had been lucky enough to step foot in the Batcave. It always seemed like some sacred place that all your other teammates were afraid to step foot in. Their bad mojo rubbed off on you for the longest time as well. Batman's secret lair always seemed to spook you.

Sitting in there now, you didn't feel the same way. Aside from the cold and darkness, the place wasn't nearly as dramatic as you thought it was going to be. Large super computer, training area, the med bay that you were in, and a collection of memorabilia. Nothing like you expected it to look like.

"You're awake."

You nearly jumped at the voice. Batman stood to the side of you, his cowl off so you could see his face. It was the first time that he ever trusted you with his identity and least to say, you were shocked. Bruce Wayne hid under that cowl. Billionaire playboy by day, Gotham's hero at night.

Without the cowl on, he looked far less intimidating. Whether it was his piercing blue eyes or the fact that he was really just some human. You felt less of a need to cower away from him and more of a pull of attraction. He was handsome, extremely.

"How long was I out?" You asked. Your voice was hoarse and the cough that erupted in your chest only put you through more pain. It was going to take far longer for you to heal than you wished. However, seeing Bruce alive because of you was well worth the pain. You couldn't imagine Gotham without it's Dark Knight.

"Three days."

"Fuck," you muttered, laying back down to the pillow. Your eyes sealed shut in frustration at the lost time. "I take it the rest of the mission went well then."

"Minimal civilian causalities," Bruce told you. He took a step closer to you and reached for the bandages that crossed your stomach. Faint burn marks that would never fully heal laced your skin. They did as much as they could, but you would be left scarred forever. Just a reminder for Bruce that you nearly died for him.

Before he could touch the material, you had snatched his wrist. Your eyes were still shut when you did the action, but they popped open when you grabbed him. Bruce retracted without saying anything. He nearly complained as you pulled the IV out of your arm and swung your legs off the side of the hospital bed, but remained silent. You were a grown woman, you could decide if you felt healthy or not.  

"Thank you," Bruce found the only way to stop you in your tracks. Your hands gripped the side of the bed and he couldn't tell if it was because you were suddenly dizzy, or shocked by his words. It was both. Your head hung low and you didn't wish to gaze up at him. Memories of the searing pain you felt flooded you and seeing his face was only a reminder of it all.

You knew that taking that blast might of killed you. You knew that the second it hit you that you might not be waking up the next morning. Was it worth it? Saving someone as heartless as Batman? You weren't sure yet. You were alive and breathing, that was going to have to be good enough for now.

"I would be dead without you," he continued. You still didn't move. Bruce went down to his knee. One hand gently on you leg and the other balancing on his own. His touch caused you to flinch, catching him off guard. He felt the need to step away from you, to give you the space that you desired. "I'm sorry."

"I saved a teammate, Bruce," you used his real name. His narrowed slightly; he didn't think you recognized him. You showed no reaction as you saw who he really was, he just assumed you were as oblivious as Hal. "I'd like to think you would do the same but who fucking knows."

"I've dedicated my life to saving people do you really think that I wouldn't do the same for anyone else on the Justice League? For you?" Bruce grit his teeth. He stood up from his spot on the ground and towered above you once more. This sudden coldness that you were giving him was nothing that he expected when you woke up.

You were always so kind to everyone on the team - even him when he pushed you away so many times. After taking the risk of dying for him, he thought that you would be willing to show more kindness. Someone willing to die for another obviously enjoyed their presence . At least he thought so.

"I think that it's been months that we've been working together and it's only when I nearly die for you that you decide to show your face," you scoffed. "Then again why does it matter who's under the mask, you're still the same asshole either way." This time, you jumped off the bed and tried to walk past Bruce.

You never even made it two steps past him before he grabbed your wrist and stopped you. You tried to pull out of his grasp but it was no use, he was far too strong for you. Bruce tugged you back, nearly causing you to trip over your own feet as you did.

"I kept you alive, the least I deserve is a thank you," Bruce's voice lowered. If you were going to be cold to him, then he was going to be the same right back. "But then again, why does it matter? I'm still the same asshole anyways that could have let you die." He let go of your wrist, but his words only frustrated you more.

After taking the bullet for him, you thought he would be more willing to open up to you. To be himself while there was no one else around. It didn't take long to realize that he would never do that, or maybe this was him being himself. You would never know the truth. That was what angered you.

You wanted to argue with him, to yell at him for being such a soulless dick. However, Pain erupted though your entire body. Your knees buckled from below you as you held onto your wound. Bruce had caught you just before you hit the ground. He easily swooped you up and set you back down on the bed.

This time, you didn't argue as he lifted the bandage to see what kind of hell your skin was in underneath. Bruce worked in silence. He dabbed a clean cloth around the wound and sterilized it. The sting of alcohol made you bite your lip to hold back the hiss of pain. With more grace than you ever thought he had, he wrapped you with a new bandage.

As he tried to walk away, you were the one to stop him. You grasped his hand, far more delicately than he had grabbed you. He could easily snap out of your hold if he wanted to, yet he found himself stopping to turn back.

"I'm sorry," you apologized. He was right, Bruce did save your life. "I guess I just expected you to be... different without the mask on. I assumed we all were. Maybe in this life we're always hiding behind some sort of mask, even without realizing it."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Bruce," you stopped him from walking away once more. "I just meant that I'm grateful for you to trust me with your identity. And that you saved me, you understand what it's like to be human under the suit. I know that trust doesn't come easy to you."

A silence fell between you. The intensity of his stare made you feel vulnerable. Cowl on or off, he was still the great Batman. A deadly weapon and a savior to Gotham. You hadn't meant to get upset. He was the last person on the team that you wanted to make angry - even more than Superman.

"Do you wanna get a drink?" Bruce suddenly asked. The corner of his lips tugged up and it was the most that you had seen him smile since that brief first time. You looked down at the over-sized clothes that you wore and then over to his Batsuit. Together, you looked to be quite the pair.

"I hope being a billionaire means you buy good whiskey," you agreed to his offer. Bruce pulled you up off the bed with the hand that had been resting in yours the whole time. You were thankful for his help. The wound you had surely would have taken you down once more if it wasn't for his support.

You stopped several steps in. Bruce looked down at you, worried about your wound. With a second of hesitation, you stood on your toes to kiss the corner of his lips. Your hand rest on his chest as your lips lingered on his skin. Your hand felt as if it was burning a whole through his chest.

He didn't expect this sudden act of affection, but he appreciated it nonetheless.  "If you'd let me, I'd like to get to know the real you - whatever version that may be," you offered. Bruce had trouble opening up to people, but maybe it would be easier with you.

"I'd like that."

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne one shot #batfam #batfam x reader #justice league #justice league imagine #batman #batman imagine #batman oneshot

[midnights-light]

Ladybug and the Hound

So before I begin I need to say a few things

This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic so it’s most likely going to suck and all that jazz

I do not own any characters in the DC or Miraculous universes (if i did everything would make little to no sense so yeah)

Can we all agree that  @ozmav is an amazing writer?

If you don’t like Daminette, don’t read it’s that simple

I am also going to use “Dogs are a Ladybug’s best friend” by @kelelamentia for some inspiration on this cuz I love that idea

All characters are going to be OOC so just be prepared

If ya’ll like it I might write more just let me know if I should write more or if I should never think about writing again (I have low self-esteem so if it look like I am hating on myself it’s because I am but I’ll get over someday but if you criticize me please at least try to be constructive criticism)

Now onto the terrible thing I decided needed to exist

LB-Ladybug

CN- Chat Noir

M-Marinette

Di-Dick

D-Damian

B-Bruce

T-Tim

J-Jason

A-Alfred

The Meeting

It was a normal Tuesday, ya know? Birds are singing, the sun is shining, the Eiffel Tower collapsed, ya know the usual. Well usual for Parisians who had to deal with this for 4 almost 5 years now but for those who just wanted a vacation like the Waynes... well let’s just say they were unprepared to see the Eiffel Tower come crashing down just a few blocks ahead of them as they were walking to get some pastries from Tom and Sabine Boulangerie patisserie for a afternoon snack and to walk Titus (they brought Titus because Damian refused to leave him alone in the mansion for two weeks while they are on vacation so Bruce reluctantly agreed to bring him with them). So them being them ran towards the fallen tower and see a few people dead and some injured. They help the injured, but just as they are about to get the remaining few out of the wreckage a girl in a clearly ladybug themed suit comes crashing to the ground creating a few cracks to form on the ground. She gets up with a groan just as a dog in a fox themed costume came running up to her and helps her steady herself. “Thanks, Hound.” says the spotted girl and as the batfam are about to check if she’s okay a... IS THAT A GIANT BABY?! Well the giant baby comes walking towards the girl and the dog when a voice shouts “If you go on a date with me Ladybug I will come help you just accept your feelings for me already!” 

Damian's POV

As soon as the spotted girl heard that she looked towards the owner of the voice and low and behold it’s a guy in a leather cat suit and on the outside I look indifferent to what is happening but on the inside the only thing I can think is ‘What is going on in this city!’ because I was just expecting a boring two weeks of ‘required’ vacation in the ‘city of love’ I hate the nickname of the city because as Father has shown love is a weakness. But apparently the city of love is not as boring as I thought it would be. The girl (ladybug I think is her name) now has a look of murder in her eyes and the dog (hound is what she called him) growled at him as ladybug said “Chat, you can’t be serious! You just caused the Eiffel Tower to fall and kill and injure people!” CN-“Yes because you can’t realize that we are meant to be together!” LB-”No we are not now either help or shut up so I can focus on gigantitan!” CN-”Fine then i’ll just sit here and enjoy the show” That one interaction makes me question if this is how it is everything something like this happens.

*Time skip because i can’t write smart plans or fight scenes*

Dick’s POV

After ladybug got his watch thing off his wrist she and hound tore it apart which released a black butterfly and the giant baby was now back to a normal sized baby. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?1 I’M SO CONFUSED! After I stopped questioning reality I realized that ladybug was comforting the kid (HE COULDN’T BE OLDER THAN 4 YEARS OLD!) she picked him up and was about to throw her spotted thing up in the air for some reason but was interrupted by the cat boy saying ‘Pound it!’ and acting like he actually helped her and didn’t just sit there on a roof watching ladybug and hound do everything. What the heck? Ladybug walks over to me and asked if I could hold the kid for a sec and I said sure because she looks ready to murder. After she hands me the kid she walks over to cat boy and started yelling at him about how he can’t just be reckless like that but it seemed to just go over his head as he replied saying something about how she owed hit to him to date him but I quickly stopped listening when the kid started crying because of all the yelling going on so I started to talk and play with him to cheer him up until he pointed to ladybug as she yelled miraculous ladybug and tossed the spotted object into the sky. I was confused about what she was doing until I saw a swarm of ladybugs appear and start fixing the damage, healing the injured, and even bringing people back to life. Then she came back over and was about to ask something but then a shrill beeping noise came from her earrings causing her to ask if we could watch over the kid until his mom came and picked him up. Titus and Hound were playing until she called him over to her and then they jumped, yes JUMPED, up to the roof and left. “What the hell was all that and does anyone else want to kill a cat boy?”

Tim’s POV

“So that all really happened, huh? It wasn’t really just a coffee dream?” I say and then look at everyone else has a different reactions to what just happened: Jason is looking at where dead bodies had been but now they were alive, Bruce is trying to understand what just happened, Alfred looks concerned, Dick is keeping the kid happy, and Damian is trying to keep Titus from running after Hound. I notice other civilians just walking around like nothing just happened and I’m just thinking ‘How long has this been happening and how have we not noticed? WHAT IS LIFE!?’

Jason’s POV

I look at everybody that was dead just walk away like nothing happened and I am about to ask Bruce if he know what that was when I feel someone bump into me. I turn around to see a girl around Damian’s age on the ground picking up the stuff she dropped while rapidly apologizing while a dog, presumably hers, was sniffing her making sure she was ok and had what looked like a glare on his face when he looked at me. M-“I’m so so sorry Monsieur! I wasn’t looking where I was going.” J-”It’s alright little lady, but if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the rush?” M- “Well you see I’m supposed to be helping in my parents bakery after I finished walking Captain but we got caught up in the akuma attack so I’m running a bit late. My names Marinette by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you before are you visiting?” What’s an akuma? I’ll file that away for later for replacement to look at but for now. J- ”Yeah we are here for a family vacation to take a break from work. Would you mind if me and my family follow you to your parent’s bakery? We were heading to one for a snack but it seems we got turned around during the attack.” M- “Sure just tell me your names first so I at least know you to some degree cause I’m not supposed to talk to people I don’t know. I hate life but I’m not ready to die just yet.” She laughs and I swear it feels like the world just got a whole lot brighter, J- “Of course where are my manners name’s Jason. I have a feeling my family is going to love you and your dog.” I say as I hold my hand out for Captain to sniff and after he does he stops giving me what I swear looks like a glare but he’s still standing near Marinette when I notice my family looking at me and Marinette and Alfred asks me, A- “Master Jason are you going to introduce us to the young miss?” J- “Oh right, guys this is Marinette, Marinette this is Alfred he’s our butler/ grandpa, the one who looks like he’s about to pass out is Tim, the one playing with the kid is Dick, the stern one is Bruce, and the  one with the dog is Damian.” I say.

Damian’s POV

I hear Todd talking to someone and introducing us and as soon as I turn to glare at Todd I see the most beautiful eyes in the whole world. they look like sapphires and her hair is like the midnight sky. She looks like an Angel... wait WHAT!?  I only zone back in as soon as Todd told the Angel my name so I did what not even I  was expecting, I took her hand, gave the back of it a kiss and said, D- “Nice to meet you Angel.” I was not smiling when I saw her blush and I for certain do not want to make her blush again... but if I have a chance to then I will take it. Then I hear a low growl and I then notice that she has a dog (yes she loves animals to!) that is looking at me like he’s going to rip me to shreds and I will forever deny that I was a little scared. M- “Sorry Damian, Captain’s just a little protective of me and doesn’t like strangers being around me.” D-”I understand.” I say then I hold out my hand for her dog (Captain I think it was) to sniff and after he does he still growls at me but doesn’t look ready to tear me to pieces so progress towards getting to know the Angel before me. And then my good mood is ruined by the sound of my idiot brothers and father, the traitor, snickering behind us. I turn and scowl at them but they don’t seem to care. Meanwhile Titus and Captain appear to have met and are now chasing each other around making me and the Angel laugh. Her laughter sounds amazing and her smile makes it feel like the world brightens up just a little. M- “So shall we start walking to the bakery?” A chorus of yes comes from my family and then we start walking. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

BONUS

*Whispering* J- “Am I going crazy or did Demon Spawn just laugh and smile at Marinette?”

Di- “No I heard it to *gasp* do you think he has a crush?”

J- “Are we sure he’s capable of having a crush?”

T- “Well I’m sure she will be good for him, but what I’m confused about is how she doesn’t recognize who we are. I mean how does she not know us she didn’t even seem to recognize our faces.

A- “I think Miss Marinette will do Master Damian some good.”

And Bruce is just looking at his youngest son with pride. His first crush and he’s able to witness it.

So as I said in the beginning this is my first fanfic and It’s most likely terrible so let me know if I should never write again, if you want another chapter, or if I should just reevaluate my life choices.

Chapter 2

#marinette x damian #maribat #marrinette dupain cheng #ml x dc #ml crossover #daminette #dc crossover #adrien salt #alya salt #lila is exposed #class salt #guardian marinette

[hyperfics-ation]

(6 Underground fic. idk what to call it. shameless oc insert.) *Police brutality mention*

Films: 6 Underground 2019

Word Count: 1,752

Pairing: billy!four/oc

Description: You were Arianna's first friend in New York City which is why One helped you fake your death when you get into trouble. It's never stated in the story but that's why.

Without anywhere to go, he gives you a home at the base while he assembles his team. Eventually you meet Four and he makes "dying" worth while. 

When One cut all ties to his old life it was because he had a mission. A purpose to fulfill. Same goes for the rest of the team. Each member was handpicked.

Except for you.

You were never part of the plan so you didn't get a number.

Obviously this made introductions a little complicated when One introduced you to Two.

The CIA spook, already dubious about One and his motivations, raised one eyebrow and sized you up quickly.

You smiled awkwardly, sensing that a formal handshake was out of the question. "Just call me Zero," you joked halfheartedly, trying not to fidget under Two's critical gaze.

Just as you broke out in a nervous sweat, Two finally looked away and motioned for One to follow her out of the trailer. It didn't take a genius to figure out what she wanted to discuss privately.

Did One seriously believe it was a good idea to involve a civilian on what was most likely going to turn out to be a suicide mission?

What did a nobody like you really bring to the table, skill-wise?

You didn't have a good answer to either of those questions and honestly neither did One.

Anyway, faking your death had been an experience™ and the adjustment period after had been hard. One hadn't been the most sympathetic. Not outwardly. After all, you were never a part of his grand plan. You were the wrench that got thrown in the plan. You felt kinda bad about that sometimes. 

···

When One was ready to go recruit Two, he thought it best you stay behind. 

"Sure. I'll be fine," you reassured him with a soft smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. 

The expression on his face made it very clear that he did not believe you. But he said nothing, already behind schedule. 

You woke up the next morning bracing yourself to face the next couple of weeks on your own. Except you weren't alone. A big ass dog sat patiently at your bedside, tongue wagging and panting softly with a note tied to his collar. 

Take care of the dog while I'm gone. P.S. Don't let him eat my stuff.  -One. 

You named the dog Wally. 

···

Three's arrival was really something. 

He was the complete opposite of Two. His easy going nature actually reminded you a lot of One. They were alike in a lot of ways, but maybe that's why they did not get along very well. Honestly, you could only stand the both of them in the same room for so long. 

But he was nice. And he talked to you. Your conversations weren't anything particularly deep. One's rules forbid any of you from revealing personal details about your old lives. Mostly you discussed movies and TV shows. 

Regardless, you lived for those benign conversations. They provided a brief intermission to the insane turn your life had taken. 

···

One could tell you were struggling. 

Wally the dog was only so much company.

You were adrift with nowhere to go, no one to turn to. 

Your old life was gone and the only people left in your life was One, Two, and Three. They all had their own issues and it wasn't like you had any shared life experience with the older adults. 

So maybe One had an ulterior motive when he recruited Four. 

The first day the Skywalker showed up with his still healing bruises and luminous blue eyes, you laughed until your face turned red. 

"Skywalker? We're not seriously going to call him that are we?" you wheezed in One's direction, swiping tears from the corner of your eye.

One opened his mouth, the perfect retort poised on his tongue before you swiftly cut him off. 

"Is he a fucking Jedi? Are you are Jedi?" 

Your raucous laughter had faded into barely stifled giggles as you looked at Four. 

He sighed. "Are you done? I need a drink." 

He brushed past you as you were still reeling from the spine tingling deep tenor of his voice paired with that accent. Now your face was flushed for a different reason. 

"Hey, be easy on him. He just watched his own funeral, which was somehow more depressing than a normal funeral should be," One told you, making you feel like a dick. 

···

Five was a godsend. Though, if One ever heard you admit it, you were sure his ego would explode at being compared with a god. 

You were just happy to be around the closest thing to a civilian. 

“You like him, don’t you? Number Four?” she asked you with a knowing grin. 

Almost immediately your face went red. “I don’t know what you mean. Who? Me?” 

Wow. Real subtle, you thought, cringing. 

Yeah, you weren’t fooling anyone, especially Five. You wondered if any of the other ghosts knew about your crush on Four. 

They did. But no one said anything. 

···

Six figured it out within hours of meeting you and proceeded to tease you relentlessly. 

So much for millennial solidarity.  

The longer he was around, though, he  became like an older brother to you. You couldn’t imagine what life would be like without him.

···

With One’s team of ghosts finally assembled, Two insisted on a mandatory training exercise to assess how well everyone worked together. You had no fucking idea why she wanted you to attend this exercise. One had already made it very clear that you were not part of the mission. But you suspected she was actually trying to do you a favor. 

The self defense pointers were useful, you supposed. Being paired with Four was… embarrassing and definitely Two’s idea of a joke. 

On the other hand, you were finally seeing a different side of Four. A more arrogant, carefree side that made you laugh not to mention pine a hundred times harder than you were before. 

Just when you were starting to have fun throwing Four around on a mat, Two steered you towards a makeshift gun range.

It had been a while since you held a gun and considering what happened the last time you did…

Needless to say you were pretty shaky afterwards, teetering on the verge of spiralling into a flashback and Four couldn’t help but notice. 

···

Later, when you were hunkered down in One’s office mindlessly rewatching Leave It To Beaver episodes Four surprised you by joining you. 

He didn’t say anything for a while, content to just sit and watch the little TV as you tried to ignore him. 

"So how did you get pulled into all this, really?" he spoke up, finally as the credits started rolling. 

You took your time answering. That was the billion dollar question that One had repeatedly forbid any of them from answering. Except, you wanted to tell someone if only to justify being a ghost. If you could get anyone on the team to believe that someone as unremarkable as you wouldn't be here if you had a choice. 

You steadfastly avoided looking into his curious green eyes. 

"I grew up in a small town. I was fairly popular in school. Got good grades. I was accepted into a good University in a big city..." 

Oh boy, you were veering into monologue territory and you could feel the old wounds tearing open. 

"There was… this cop. At a protest. He assaulted me and it was... bad. I woke up in the hospital with this guy telling me to keep my mouth shut. He… he threatened me. For weeks. Him and his buddies. Painted me as a criminal even though I didn’t fucking do anything wrong.  Finally I just said 'fuck it' and made a whole video about what this asshole did to me. Which turned out to be a mistake. Shocker, I know. He cornered me the next day and he was drunk-" 

You bit your lip hard, desperately fighting back tears. Four’s gaze burned where you could feel it on your face. God, what was he thinking right now? You wanted to know. He had been silent so far, listening intently as you told him about the worst moment of your life.

“Fucking pigs,” he muttered under his breath, his lip curling in disgust. 

Swallowing the lump of emotion building in your throat, you continued, "I defended myself. And that's how One found me. Over this cop's dead body. I was going to go to jail because who would ever believe I killed a cop in self defense? So, One helped me fake my death and gave me a second chance. To this day, I still have no idea why he was there when I needed him the most. It wasn't even to recruit me. He just helped me because he could. The whole Turgistan thing came later."  

At last, you glanced at Four from the corner of your eye to see his reaction. 

His brows were knitted together and he had a serious expression on his face you weren’t accustomed to seeing him sport before. 

“I’m glad One was there to help you or I might not have ever met you.” 

This boy was too good to be true. 

“I'd like to get to know you better, if that’s alright.” 

You were quietly crying at this point, but you nodded, smiling through the tears. “I’d like that.” 

Read Part II here

#6 underground netflix #6 underground movie #6 underground #billy #four #four!billy/oc #four!6underground/oc #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy #ben hardy/oc #ficlet #ben hardy x reader #four x reader #billy x reader #four!6underground x reader #four!billy x reader #posted on a03

[badacts]

crack in the ceiling/where the light bleeds in

Jason has a problem. Tim solves it because that’s his job in this family. Also on ao3.

The effects of the Lazarus Pit don’t last forever. Just ask Ra’s.

The thing is, Jason thought that might be a problem he’d have to deal with later. Like, ‘towards the end of a natural human lifespan’ later, in the event that he reached old age in his round two at all. Instead, he’s twenty-four, and he’s pretty sure he’s dying.

Or worse, not dying. It wasn’t, after all, the Lazarus Pit that brought him back to life. It just restored the function of his brain and everything that makes him himself along with it. Which he now seems to be losing.

So far, the extent of his problem-solving has been some quiet questions about the Lazarus Pits that still exist and also determinedly not saying anything to any of the bats. Of course, keeping it on the down-low from them precludes acting crazy in front of them.

Which is why, when the becoming-familiar need to puke comes over him while he’s working a case with Nightwing, he bolts.

“The hell?” he hears from behind him. “Red Hood!”

Jason ignores him, rapidly regressing from ‘feared vigilante’ to ‘scared animal’. By now, he knows the drill: first, the faint roll of nausea, followed by confusion, and then the visual hallucinations. Sometimes he hears shit, too. Then it’s followed last of all by the pain of his brain trying determinedly to break itself apart.

Pain is just electrical impulses. A reaction of the body - just the workings of fancy machinery, or maybe fancy meat. It’s the other stuff that scares the shit out of him. Particularly the shivering loss of control.

He can’t afford it. He can’t ever, ever afford to lose control.

He goes to one of his quieter places, with the entrance through a slanted skylight on the roof. His hands feel a thousand miles from his head as he fumbles through setting the security system. His vision is sparking, bubbles of light bursting and then dimming again too slowly.

The sliver of rational thought left to him wonders if this time will be the one he can’t come back from, but the rest of him is consumed by the need to get somewhere dark and quiet and just wait. He takes off his boots and the too-heavy outer layers that are chafing at his skin and setting his nerves on fire. Once he’s mostly stripped down, he lowers himself cautiously onto the mattress in his windowless bedroom.

In the dark, with his eyes closed, it’s almost like having a stomach bug, if he discounts the sense of impending doom. He breathes, and breathes, and determinedly doesn’t lose it.

*

He wakes with a start when the lights come on overhead. He makes the mistake of opening his eyes, and the resultant bolt of pain drags a sound disturbingly close to a whine from between his teeth.

“Fuck,” someone says, too loud. “Jason?”

Jason doesn’t reply, forcing an arm up to cover his eyes. The return of the darkness helps, but it also makes him aware that he’s breathing too fast. He wishes he could stop: it hurts.

“Photosensitivity,” Tim says more quietly, either narrating the work his big brain is doing, or, in a more likely scenario, telling the others exactly what’s wrong with Jason. “Rapid respiration. Nausea, if I had to guess.”

Fingers ghost over his brow, and then prod less gently at his chest and abdomen. He flinches away from the touch to his belly. “ Don’t .”

“Diffuse abdo pain,” Tim says. “Don’t touch? Sorry. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

He sounds awfully relaxed, for someone who’s in danger. Jason remembers vividly before - Tim underneath him, breathing blood, and the sick and overwhelming sense of victory that he had won out over his replacement. Not caring that the kid under him might die. Hoping for it.

He can’t blame the Pit for his thoughts, not really, but it can take some of the responsibility for his lack of inhibitions, control and morality. These days, he’s pretty happy that Tim Drake is alive and kicking. He really, really doesn’t want to be one to put him in a grave.

“Go away,” Jason grits out. Each muscle in his jaw feels like high-tensile wire.

“One moment,” Tim says, followed by the distinctive click of an earpiece being muted. “I’m not going anywhere, Jay.”

The desperation sweeps over him like a tide. Thirty seconds ago, he couldn’t have imagined moving. Now, he forces through that and lunges at Tim.

Then he’s face down on the floor and retching, not quite sure how he got there. His head -

“Easy,” Tim is crooning, like he might have been going for a while. It has to be a tone he learned direct from Dick. “Yes, thank you, B. That’s very helpful.” And that tone is the result of years of dealing with Batman. “ Yes, B.”

There are fingers at Jason’s sleeve then, pushing it up, and then a pinprick in Jason’s arm. Tim says, “Ondansetron administered. Give it a minute.”

Jason lies there, trying not to inhale his own sour breath, feeling the right side of his head throb in time with his heart, until his stomach actually starts to settle. It feels like fifty years - with his metabolism, it’s probably more like ten minutes. He empties a sigh into his floorboards.

“There you go,” Tim says. He sounds like he’s talking to the victim of a violent crime, not Jason. “I’m going to help you back onto the bed, okay?”

His hands wrap around Jason’s forearms, and he starts to pull Jason up. But wiry muscle aside, one hundred and fifty-some pounds of Tim doesn’t have a hope of moving Jason if he doesn’t want to be moved. And he doesn’t.

“...or not,” Tim says, and capitulates by settling a blanket over Jason - being careful to avoid trapping his arms - and then raising his head to settle a pillow underneath it. It’s not much movement, but it still makes stars go off behind Jason’s closed eyelids. He bites back another groan.

“Your head hurts, huh?” Tim asks, because he’s some kind of detective or something. Jason would roll his eyes if he could. “Have you been knocked out recently?”

“No,” Jason says, and then a fragment of his familiar refrain: “Helmet.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tim’s definitely rolling his eyes. “What does it feel like? The pain?”

Jason presses his fingers into his right eye socket. Then he flicks them out to mime an explosion. “Throbs.”

He doesn’t need to see Tim to hear his metaphorical ears prick up. “Oh, shit. Did you see things, before it started to hurt?”

“Lights,” Jason admits. It’s less creepy than admitting that he also hears bubbling like boiling water, on and off, just quiet enough he can almost ignore it right before the pain kicks in. “They’re green.”

“Good,” Tim says, which absolutely wasn’t the response Jason expected. There’s more rustling, and then Tim says, “Little prick.”

“Fuck you,” Jason replies, letting Tim stick him with another needle, and then, when Tim snorts, “D’you have to do the clinic run too?” That was something he did once or twice when Bruce felt he needed the education - assisting Leslie at the clinic. Nothing makes you as appreciative of working on other bats as helping treat civilians. Normal people.

“Only when I really pissed him off,” Tim replies. “I’m going to roll you over now. Try not to puke on me.”

“Not gonna puke,” Jason replies, more out of stubborn will than any actual faith in himself. However, his stomach stays settled, though he keeps his eyes firmly closed.

“You’re lucky I brought my kit with me,” Tim mutters, more to himself than to Jason as he resettles the blanket. “What were you going to do next time you get a serious wound? Put a bandaid on it?”

Jason’s first aid kit is perfectly adequate, though maybe a little sparsely stocked right now. Normal people just don’t carry prescription anti-nausea medication on their person. Jason can’t think of a way to communicate that without moving his jaw, so he just gives an unamused huff.

There’s a ruffle of sound, and then the distinctive soft shick of someone pulling off their domino. “It’s just a matter of waiting it out now.”

“What?” Jason mumbles. He’s assuming Tim isn’t waiting for him to die - not even he would sound so cool about that - but he’s not entirely clear on what it is they’re waiting for, or doing, or what Tim just injected him with. It’s just that now the creeping anxious nausea has faded, it’s hard to worry about anything beyond the pain and the way his whole body feels like rocks shoved in a sack.

It’s the light - even through his eyelids, it’s uncomfortable. He’s just about to demand Tim turn off the overheads when a hand drops over his eyes, leaving him in blissful darkness.

“Sorry,” Tim says. “I need the light in case you actually are having an aneurysm. Do you get headaches like this a lot?”

Jason’s slightly offended by Tim calling it a headache. His brain is breaking. “Sometimes.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re having a migraine,” Tim says. “Have you been to a doctor?”

That question is frankly fucking laughable, and both of them know it. Jason mumbles, “I’m dead.”

“And as you like to tell us, you wear a helmet because you already died of head trauma once,” Tim says. “People with past TBIs are more likely to have migraines.”

“How’d I know that?” Jason’s slur doesn’t sound pissed off enough. Skipping the consonants hurts less though. “Didn’ finish high school.”

“Neither did I,” Tim points out.

“Nerd.”

“Loser.”

“Probably.” At least they’re in the same boat. “Migraine, huh?”

“Pretty sure,” Tim confirms. “If you were having a brain bleed, I reckon you’d be dead by now. Again.”

“Lazarus Pit. Thought m’head was broken,” Jason mutters faintly. He doesn’t mean to say it, would never admit it to Tim Drake in a million years. It’s just a moment of weakness.

“It is,” Tim replies, on the shadow of a laugh. “Not like that, though.”

*

The after phase is a real trip.

“Euphoria,” Tim observes. “Decrease in pain, plus all the dopamine your body has been pumping out - instant high. Same thing happens to new moms once they’ve pushed their babies out.”

“Thanks for that,” Jason rasps. He’s in bed now, though he’s working on blocking out how he got here. He’s already going to owe Tim for tonight, but he draws the line...right there. “Seriously, you can leave now.”

“No can do,” Tim replies. He’s still in his uniform, though he’s ditched the cape and the armed over-vest for just the pants and a slick-fabric undershirt. It makes Jason’s gear look clunky and old-fashioned by comparison. “I’m on baby-sitting duty.”

Not even the slow haze of hormones can dull the bite of irritation at that. “Fuck you.”

“To be clear, I don’t think you’re going anywhere right now,” Tim clarifies. “I’m just here for everyone else's’ peace of mind.”

“Anxious freaks,” Jason mumbles, though not unkindly.

“You can hardly blame them. It’s never a good sign when the Red Hood disappears without a word,” Tim says cheerfully.

Despite himself, Jason prickles. “They that worried for the safety of Gotham’s criminal element?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tim snorts. “They’re worried you’re going to get yourself killed. Again.”

Jason doesn’t have a reply to that. Sensing that, Tim continues, “I actually think you might be right about the Lazarus Pit. You thought it was wearing off, right?”

“Right,” Jason confirms after a moment, though grudgingly. Stupid detective brother.

“It might be,” Tim says. “Just enough for your brain to remember that it got seriously injured back then. Or you might have a different trigger. There’s something here about diarying your episodes and trying to figure out the causes from that.”

Jason doesn’t have to look to know Tim is scrolling through his phone where he’s sitting cross-legged on the mattress next to Jason. He said something brisk about being close enough to ‘monitor’ when Jason tried to shove him off, and he’d given up. His head doesn’t hurt anymore, not precisely, but he still feels wobbly-necked and fragile.

“Triggers?”

“Storms, specific kinds of food, stress,” Tim lists.

Jason opens his eyes specifically to give Tim a dubious look. “Stress?”

Tim looks back at him just as dubiously. “How many hours sleep do you get a night?”

“Fuck off,” Jason replies, and firmly closes his eyes again. Stress. Jesus Christ.

“I’ll get you a headache journal for Christmas,” Tim says lightly, and then, “So, why’d you try to beat me up?”

“I always beat you up.”

“Not tonight you didn’t. We don’t reward points for effort in Gotham.”

Oh. That attempt at beating him up. Jason mumbles, “Don’t know.”

“Whatever.” Tim can fit a lot of scorn in that tiny body of his.

“Maybe I just don’t want you around,” Jason snaps, sharp as he can make it right now.

Tim, predictably, rears back to give Jason one of his lizard-glares. It doesn’t last long though, fading into something a bit more evaluatory. He says, “You can’t make me leave.”

Jason sputters, caught between the desire to laugh derisively and the desire to get up and shove Tim out the window he came in through. Before he can pick, Tim lays down on top of the bedcovers on the empty side of the mattress.

“Hey, this bed is really comfy,” he says, as though he isn’t constantly being found asleep on hard non-bed surfaces across Gotham. Jason once found him napping on a rooftop.

“I’ll give you the website of the place I got it off if you go away,” Jason attempts.

“Like I couldn’t find it myself,” Tim scoffs, scrunching himself down into Jason’s pillows. “Hey, pass me that blanket?”

“No,” Jason replies, pulling the blanket in question tighter about himself. It’s his favourite, warm and soft, and the weight of it on top of him is already making him sleepy despite Tim’s rudeness.

“It’s okay, I don’t need one anyway,” Tim says.

“Seriously, go away.” What is the world coming to? The only brother Jason should have this much trouble getting rid of is Dick.

“Babysitting, remember? And when baby sleeps, so does sitter.” Tim pats kindly at Jason’s blanket-covered elbow. Jason kindly doesn’t strangle him for it.

Yet. He doesn’t do it yet. Because there’s a tickle of nervousness in the pit of his belly about having someone else sleep so close to him, and not out of fear for his safety, either. That on top of his incomplete acceptance of Tim’s migraine theory has him lying stiff in his blankets when Tim finally reaches over and flicks the lights off.

“Big spoon or little?” Tim asks, which surprises Jason so much that he actually laughs. “Go to sleep. You’ll feel better afterwards.”

“Did WebMD tell you that?”

“Nah. Everything is just always better with more sleep,” Tim replies, and then yawns. “Shh.”

Jason manages about five minutes of his commitment to stay awake while Tim’s breathing slows and evens out next to him. He’s warm and comfortable and his head doesn’t hurt anymore, and he might not be dying or going crazy after all. The closer he gets to sleep, the easier it is to believe.

He’s nearly asleep himself when Tim, sounding far more awake than Jason would have expected, says, “I’m not scared of you.”

He probably should be. That said, they’re Robins - not scared of much. Jason mumbles, “Go to sleep,” and promptly follows his own command.

#jason todd #tim drake #red hood #red robin #dc #my fic #batman #batfam #h/c #migraines

[violetsmoak]

Philtatos [11/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47690671

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #amnesia #underworld #betrayal #gods in disguise

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

It takes Tim ten seconds longer than he’ll ever admit before he understands what’s going on.

Even then, he almost allows himself to get lost in the moment as his awareness floods with unexpected sensation: the brush of lips against his, warm and unexpectedly soft, the scratch of day-old stubble against his chin, weird, but good weird; the smell of motor oil and smoke and generic shampoo.

His pulse thunders in his ears, lungs burning because he doesn’t trust himself to exhale. It takes everything he has to fight against the reflex to lean forward into Jason. He has to remind himself why this is the worst possible idea right now.

While his words remain locked in his throat, his lack of reaction must still speak volumes. Or maybe it’s just Jason’s own wits returning to him. Either way, he jerks back from Tim, expression morphing through several iterations—horror, confusion, and guilt.

“Shit,” he says, voice hoarse. He takes a step back, eyes wide with panic. “Shit. You don’t…you don’t want this.”

His wild gaze darts around, everywhere but Tim’s face, before settling on something behind him that makes the color drain from his face. He takes another stumbling step backward.

Tim whips around, hoping to hell it’s not Bruce behind them, and only feels a modicum less dismay to find Steph there instead. She’s frozen in mid-step, arm in a sling and mouth gaping at what she’s just walked in on.

“What the…?”

“Steph,” Tim warns, trying to ignore the way his own cheeks become warm and his voice mimics a croak.

There’s a muffled clatter behind him as Jason drops his helmet and practically trips over his boots backing away.

“I have to go,” he chokes, still refusing to look at Tim.

He’s already taken off by the time Tim manages to form the syllables of his name.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Steph calls after him as Jason vanishes into the garage. “You can’t leave!”

The only answer is a bike engine roaring to life, and the squeal of tires as Jason peels out of the Cave.

“Jason, no—!” Tim tries, knows it’s a bad idea for some reason, but he’s having trouble getting his thoughts to really connect. He can’t make himself move, legs seemingly bolted to the stone floor. 

Jason kissed him.

Jason kissed him.

It’s s something he’s only ever allowed himself to image in the farthest recesses of his mind, the place his thoughts wander just before he falls asleep and can’t control their destination.

If this had happened three weeks ago, Tim would have been elated. Surprised and flustered, no doubt, but cautiously thrilled at the idea of Jason returning any kind of interest in him.

The hard truth is that he doesn’t.

The kiss wasn’t the result of Jason liking him, or even wanting to kiss him at all. It’s the result of a poison swimming through his bloodstream, stealing his will and his judgment and forcing some pale imitation desire for Tim.

And Tim—

Tim is still revisiting the moment in his brain, committing to memory the sensation of Jason’s mouth on his. His heart is still racing, the way it always does after a first kiss. He’s had enough of them to recognize the feeling, but that’s normally followed by warmth and relief and happiness.

Right now, all he feels are the competing urges to either sob or vomit. It’s strong enough that he stumbles toward the stairs, past Steph’s shocked and questioning gaze, and Bruce who stands at the head of the stairs.

“What’s going on?” he demands.

Tim meets his gaze, wondering how he’s supposed to answer that. On the one hand, they need to know Jason’s condition may have progressed, but on the other, some part of him wants to keep what just happened as private as possible.

He shoots Steph a pleading look, and though she seems confused for a moment, it’s barely noticeable.

“Jason left,” she says.

“After all that, you allowed Todd to leave?” Damian demands, marching down to lurk behind Bruce.

“He didn’t like being benched,” Steph supplies. “Probably needed to go sulk.”

“If his condition is as serious as you all seem to think, he should not be driving,” Bruce warns. “I’m going after him, before he—”

“Oh, just let him go,” a voice interrupts, voice exaggerating boredom. They all turn to the containment unit, where Dick is standing in his underwear, arms crossed. “He probably won’t get himself killed. And hey, if he does, chances are he’ll come back again. Evil doesn’t stay dead.”

Bruce’s brows furrow. “Dick.”

“Bruce. Are you going to let me out, or am I supposed to freeze my ass here in my underwear the rest of the night?”

“Do you still have the sudden urge to kill us all?” Damian challenges, trying for bravado but unable to completely hide his real unease.

“’' 'Sudden’?” Dick replies. “You talk like it’s something I haven’t dreamed about since Bruce stuck some new brat in my family’s colors.”

Damian clenches his fists, and Bruce says, “There’s your answer.”

“Oh, come on,” the first Robin groans. “Like you haven’t thought about it once or twice. How much easier your life would be if it was just like old times. Me and you and Babs.”

The words hurt, but it’s dulled somehow, both by the fact Tim knows this isn’t Dick—not really—and by his own overwhelmed exhaustion. This whole situation is hitting him all over again and he’s just…

Done.

He doesn’t bother with explanations or excuses as he strides toward the rarely used elevator. He needs time. And space. To think.

Or not think, as it were.

Somehow, his thoughts remain blissfully empty and blank as he heads upstairs, tossing his gear on the ground once he’s in his room. He gets in the shower, turns it on as hot as it can go and just stands in the spray for a while.

As the aches ease from his body, he carefully allows his thoughts to trickle back in, and to look at the situation objectively.

Jason kissed him, true.

But he didn’t do it to hurt him, either intentionally—by doing so without his consent—or unintentionally—because he has no idea about Tim’s feelings. Probably, he’s out there somewhere panicking. Most likely there will be some time period spent self-flagellating before he tries to do something about the situation.

Hopefully, Bruce or Damian or someone has gone after him by now. If not, Tim will have to do it.

Just as soon as he eases a little more exhaustion from his bones and muscles.

When was the last time I slept? It might be going on two days now.

No wonder he was taken by surprise. Maybe if he had been well-rested, if his body wasn’t a giant bruise from their ill-fated encounter with Cupid, his reaction time would have been better. He could have cut Jason off before he did anything, and he’d still be here.

He needs to go find him. Needs to venture back down to the Batcave, might even have to have another argument with Bruce about his fitness to be involved in the case.

Finding the confidence for that—to even fake for that—takes longer than he’d like.

By the time he finally gets out of the shower and into some civilian clothes, a half-hour has passed.

He’s unsurprised to find Steph loitering against his bedroom door when he opens it, expression of determined concern on her face. He half-expected it to be Bruce—wonders how she convinced him to stay downstairs.

“I’m fine,” he tells her automatically, hating how it sounds like it’s being dragged from the depths of his throat.

“You’re not fine. This whole situation is the definition of ‘not fine’.”

“We’re all doing the best we can.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be hiding up here. He’s really messing you up, isn’t he?”

“It’s not Dick’s fault.”

“I’m not talking about Dick.” Steph pushes off the walls, arms crossed. “I know it’s been weird for all of us seeing the big bad Red Hood’s recent personality change, but it’s obviously different with him being so fixated on you. And now that it’s getting physical—”

“It’s not getting physical, that was just…”

He can’t find the words to explain.

“You weren’t expecting it,” she suggests. “It’s okay. Honestly, I don’t think he was expecting to do that either, considering how fast he ran out of there. But if that’s happening now, he’s only going to get worse.”

“It’s not Jason’s fault either.”

“I know that. But clearly things are escalating. I’m not always Batman’s biggest fan, but I think he’s right about this one.”

“Steph…”

“Or, at least sit down as a group and figure out what to do, instead of you two butting heads the whole time.”

“This is happening to Jason and it’s happening to me. We’re the ones who should get the final say on how to handle it, and it’s been working so far.”

“Yeah? Then why do you look like someone just kicked you in the guts repeatedly? I know you want to help him, but you don’t have to force yourself to be okay with everything. No one would blame you if you needed to take a step back.”

“I don’t need to take a step back.”

“Are you sure about that? From what I heard, this whole thing has been a gamble from the start. I’m still shocked Bruce let it go on as long as it has. It’s not fair to either of you.”

“Bruce isn’t letting anything happen,” Tim snaps with unexpected venom, irritation washing over him. “This is my choice and as much of Jason’s choice as it can be right now. What you saw was just a…a momentary lapse. I’ll—we’ll adjust.”

But there’s a painful lump in his throat as he says that, and his thoughts flicker through images of Jason at his worst, at his most hateful—and contrast them with the easy-going, open and semi-flirtatious man he’s gotten to see in the past few days.

The stark difference between the violent, brutal ways they’ve fought one another in the past, and the gentle slide of Jason’s fingers against his cheek when he kissed him.

How do I adjust after that?

“I’ve haven’t seen this much denial from you since Bruce’s not-death,” Steph says, narrowing her eyes at him. “Is there something else going on here that you’re not telling us?”

“No,” Tim says shortly and starts down the hall. “I’ve got stuff to do, so—”

“Oh, no you don’t, I’m not buying the whole stoic-wannabe-Batman routine for a second!” she trails him down the hallway. “You only get like this when you’re trying to keep people from noticing you’re hurting. And I get the situation is confusing and all—”

“Leave it alone, Steph!”

“—but why the hell would Jason kissing you hurt? It’d be weird, sure, but it shouldn’t bother you at all.”

“Steph—”

“You’re the one insisting it’s not his fault, that he doesn’t…really…feel…” Tim tries to keep walking, but then he’s being spun around by the shoulder, and forced to look into wide, shocked blue eyes. “Are you hurting because it’s not real?”

Tim clenches his jaw shut and does his best to meet her gaze—avoidance would just be a confirmation—but Steph’s always been intuitive about things like this.

“Tim, you’re not…you don’t actually have feelings for Jason, do you?” she practically whispers, like she’s afraid to say it too loud. As if that makes it real.

Story of my life there.

It would be so easy to deny it, to brush it off and tell Steph that she’s reading too much into things. To pretend like it’s just the situation that has him off his game. But today, he’s exhausted, and mustering up the energy required to sell the story seems like too much.

Against his will, his eyes lower, and Steph releases him with a gasp.

He closes his eyes, waiting for judgment.

Instead, he feels her move closer, linking her fingers through his and tugging them until he looks up at her. The only thing on her face is concern.

“Tim,” she begins, careful, “I know this is a bit of a head-trip, Jason being nice to everyone and all. Even I’m starting to like the guy a bit. But…”

“It’s not like that.”

“Okay then. What’s it like?”

Still no judgment, just Stephanie expecting Tim to explain it to her in a way she can understand. They used to have so many arguments that he withheld information from her, and in the end of them, he was doing his best to get in the habit of walking her through his thought process—even if he failed most of the time.

Just as he’s failing now in the oppressive silence between them.

He opens his mouth, tries to come up with the words, then closes it again because—honestly—he can’t even explain it to himself sometimes.

There’s a sharp intake of breath.

“Jesus.” Steph presses her fingers to her lips in agitation. “I don’t…I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Don’t say anything,” Tim suggests, tired. “I’m well aware of the status quo and hoping for things to be different is a waste of time.”

“But, Tim—”

“No,” he cuts her off, and ducks away from her, suddenly needing to be away from the boxed-in feeling of her closeness. “It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is saving Jason. Not just for me. This is—we have to save him, Steph. I can’t—we can’t lose him in his head again. Bruce can’t.”

And now Steph’s expression is no longer telegraphing shock, but also pain and pity. Obviously, she knows that everything Tim just said is true.

“Tim…”

“Let’s save the comments for after this mess is figured out, okay?” he suggests, trying for mild. He halfway manages it.

Steph looks like she’d like to protest, but instead nods. “Okay. I’m just worried.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“Bull. Whatever our issues, you’ve always been in my corner. I’ll never stop worrying about you.”

And that’s actually comforting.

He shoots her a tight smile of gratitude. “Come on. Enough moping, we’ve got two Bats that need to be helped now.”

“My thoughts exactly,” a gruff voice says behind them, and Tim winces, because he really should have expected Bruce to show up eventually.

Looks like Steph only managed to delay him a bit. God, did he hear any of that?

He starts to feel sick again.

“Lurk much?” Steph snaps.

“Stephanie, could you give us a few minutes?”

She makes a face and then shrugs. “You’ve got three before I go get Alfred.”

She disappears.

Tim and Bruce regard each other for a few seconds, both tense.

“How long have you been standing there?” Tim asks, trying not to sound as nervous as he feels.

“About thirty seconds,” Bruce replies, and Tim mentally revisits his conversation with Steph. He doesn’t think he said anything too incriminating. His stomach unclenches a bit. “Your concentration isn’t up to your usual standards.”

Tim’s mouth thins.

So, it’s time for the not so constructive criticism, is it?

But to his surprise, Bruce suddenly looks apologetic.

“Sorry. Given your concern for Jason…for me, I can understand it. I know you’re only trying to help as best you can. And I…” he hesitates, clearly chewing on something that’s difficult for him, “…could have handled my earlier reaction better.”

“You think?” Tim can’t help needling.

Bruce simply nods, doesn’t elaborate.

Of course, that’s as far as he’ll go. Still, for Batman, that’s a lot.

“Thanks,” Tim says after a beat. “And if you heard what I said—I meant it. I won’t let us lose Jason again. Or Dick.”

Bruce nods again and then squares his shoulders. “Barbara is on her way here.”

Awesome segue, Bruce…

Outwardly, he simply remarks, “That’s rare.”

“I contacted her. Since she wasn’t there when Dick was hit by Cupid’s arrow, he should have no problem with her. Chances are she can work with him to try to figure out a solution while we focus on Jason.”

“I bet she loved being relegated to babysitting her ex.”

“I would do it, but I need to keep Damian occupied,” Bruce says. “He’s taking Dick’s...current attitude…harder than he’d like to pretend.”

I get that. It’s not a great feeling when the mentor you’ve been low-key hero-worshipping looks at you like you’re dirt. 

“She wouldn’t have agreed, but she has some information for Jason and can’t get in contact with him.”

Tim frowns. “His comms are off, then?”

“Yes. And he seems to have found and destroyed all my trackers. Do you have any on him?”

“No. It…felt like another breach of privacy, given the circumstances,” Tim murmurs, trying not to see the exasperation Bruce tries to hide.

“Trackers or no, Jason’s always had a tendency—or rather a talent—for avoiding Batman when he wants to,” he says after a moment. “Given his condition, he may not actively try to hide from you.”

It’s a reversal from what he was saying before, but Tim gets the sense that Bruce is trying here. Trying to trust him, despite his earlier misgivings.

What’s going on with Dick must be getting to him. He’s used to Jason being the one he has to worry about, but not anyone else.

Tim considers this. “Then I’ll find him.”

“In the meantime, we can hear what Barbara has to say.”

Tim doesn’t point out that the information was for Jason because on the off chance it helps Jason, it’s better to learn sooner than later.

Another thought occurs to him.

“Did Diana ever get back to you? When you were on your way back you said she hadn’t yet, but…?”

“No.” Bruce’s expression becomes shadowed. “I’m starting to think there’s a reason for it.”

“You think that’s tied in?”

“We’re dealing one Olympian god—possibly two. Of course, it has something to do with it.”

“Are Clark or any of the other League members dealing with wayward gods?”

“Nothing from what I’ve found out. The Titans?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Did you get in contact with Wonder Girl?”

“No. Not yet. I can do that now. Maybe she’s got some ideas about helping Dick, too.”

“Hm.” Bruce nods, and heads back downstairs. He pauses, then turns to Tim with an indecipherable expression. “I realize we haven’t been the closest in the past few months. But I…am available to you if you ever need to talk. About anything.”

“Uh. Okay?”

Bruce watches him another five seconds and then descends the stairs.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Tim really doesn’t want to think too closely about that right now, he has enough anxiety-inducing thoughts beating around his skull. Instead, he reaches for his phone and speed-dials her, flipping the phone around to face him.  

“Hey, stranger,” she says as she picks up on the fourth ring. The screen wavers as she seemingly props it up on something, allowing her to keep eating; apparently he caught her in the middle of supper.

Breakfast? What time is it even?

 “I thought you’d dropped off the face of the planet. Did you finally finish up that issue with Eros?”

“Not even close,” Tim sighs, scraping his hand down his face. He’s going to need to shave soon.

“Uh-oh. Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?”

“You probably won’t. Please hold all well-deserved scolding until the end.”

“What happened.”

“So, we tried to get the bow and arrows back…”

“And it didn’t go as planned?”

“Worse. Nightwing kind of…got tagged.”

“You’re kidding,” Cassie groans. “Which arrow? Though either one has the potential to be horrible.”

Tim snorts. “As uncomfortable as it would have been, I think we’d all rather deal with overly amorous Dick Grayson than the asshole that’s down in the containment unit.”

“That’s the trouble when it’s someone you care about,” she agrees. “They always know exactly where to twist the knife. Or arrow, in this case. Speaking of, that’s what this is.”

“Huh?”

“The arrow he got stuck with? It has to be removed.”

“There is no arrow.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be able to see it. It exists on a different plane. Only Eros, or the person wielding his bow and arrow, would be able to see or touch it. It’s why even the gods could never stop him from making them fall in or out of love with someone unless they convinced him to do it.”

“That’s not encouraging. Only Eros…” Tim trails off, thinking of the winged terror in his base, and of the trouble he’s caused.

Of Jason moving into his personal space, pressing his mouth against his—

“What about someone infected with Eros blood?” he blurts out, shaking his face in an attempt to get his cheeks to cool off.

“I mean, maybe, no one’s ever tried, but—” Cassie cuts off and narrows her eyes at Tim. “What do you mean someone infected by Eros blood? Are you going to bring some civilian in and try to get them to fix Nightwing? Because that will only get someone hurt.”

Tim shifts, uncomfortable. “Okay, so…remember how I didn’t really tell you who it was?”

“Yes…”

“It…might have been Red Hood.”

Cassie lets out a string of curse words, some of which may actually be Kryptonian.

Looks like Kon’s rubbing off on her…

“Just because Batman doesn’t tell his team all the details until he’s ready, doesn’t mean you get to do the same thing!” she hisses. “This is serious!”

“I realize that.”

“No, you don’t!” That guy’s crazy!”

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?! I’ve seen the footage, Tim! When he came back and did his rounds messing with everyone in your family, he almost killed you! He injured and incapacitated our friends!”

“I’m not disputing that.”

“He doesn’t show restraint, just throws himself into things without caring about the consequences—”

“Debatable.”

“—and has already shown obsessive tendencies. I don’t even want to imagine what he’s like now that he’s been infected with…with erotic obsession for someone!”

“I don’t have to imagine, and it’s fine, we’re handling it.”

“You mean protecting some poor civilian from their brand new murderous stalker?”

“There aren’t any civilians involved, so you can relax.”

“No civi—you mean it’s a cape he’s obsessed with?” Her voice becomes suspicion. “Is it one of you?” When he still doesn’t reply, the suspicion turns to something dangerous. “Tim…Tim, please tell me that it’s not you that he’s focused on.”

“It’s not his fault—” he begins.

“That’s it!” Cassie throws up her hands. “I’m rounding everyone up and we’re coming to you.”

“No, you’re not!” Tim protests, panicking a little because he’s already got Steph who’s going to be watching him like something about to break. The Titans known him just as well, they’re going to figure out the truth just as fast, and he doesn’t want them preemptively crippling Jason.

Unless he can stop her, he’s going to have a lot of explaining to do—and not just to her.

⁂

Jason isn’t entirely sure how he gets out of the Cave, let alone without being tailed by anyone. His normally stellar senses are clogged instead by overwhelming guilt and shame, thoughts seesawing back and away from the fact he just kissed Tim Drake.

He had tasted like coffee and blood from a split lip, and damn it, Jason shouldn’t have done that when he was hurt—

I shouldn’t have done it at all!

The bike beneath him wobbles in a way it shouldn’t as he speeds down the deserted road without an actual destination in mind, just the persistent need to be somewhere that’s elsewhere.

The world around him flickers, substituting the damp and gritty pavement with a dark room then sand-swept stone walls and then an angry, roiling ocean and then a sunlit field. His head pounds with the high-pitched cackle of his nightmares, which morphs into the cheering of hundreds of voices and then screaming.

He feels the strain of his muscles as he swings a sword, the press of his armored back against that belonging to the man who is an extension of himself, tastes blood and dirt in his mouth and the furious joy of a good fight.

Bristol’s gloomy darkness flashes back and forth to a battlefield, bodies, and steel colliding, to the inside of a canvas tent and his hand is on Tim’s cheek, the same as it was in the Batcave.

“Noble son of Menoetius, man after my own heart,” he says, and Tim wraps his own fingers around his hand, brings Jason’s palm to his lips.

No, not Tim. That wasn’t his name, it was—

Jason only just comes back to himself in time to pull over on the shoulder of the road instead of plowing into an oncoming red pickup truck. He staggers from the bike, ignoring the thunk as it falls to the ground, has to put his head between his legs.

“Hey, buddy—you okay? You just came out of nowhere—”

“’m fine!” Jason gasps, backing away from whoever is trying to talk to him. His vision continues to blur and double, juxtaposing night with the day, present with the dream he can’t escape.

Moonlight over the city, the colorless adobe buildings illuminated in its path. Sounds of raucous laughter and music from the inside palace, but outside on the balcony, it is calm and he is at peace.

“I conquer everything, and it would mean nothing without you. In this world, you alone are the one I trust.”

“And you are everything I care for,” the dark-eyed man beside him replies.

“No, his eyes are blue,” Jason murmurs.

“What was that? Hey man, did you hit your head?”

He stares across the manor ballroom until it catches the strange kid’s attention, grinning when the boy’s eyes widen at him. Their color is startling, and they take up practically his whole face.

Jason’s about to motion for him to the edge of the reception area—hanging out with another kid, even a little one, would break up the monotony of the evening—when Bruce’s hand falls hard on his shoulder.

“Time to make an exit, son,” he says, and from the distracted way he’s talking, Jason doesn’t even need to look out the window to see the sky.

Jason gasps, clutching at his head as it throbs like it’s been trapped in a vice. There’s burning pain, not unlike being emerged in a Lazarus pit like something is being forced into him. Only this time, it’s not life, but—

A green dale, unnaturally green and clean, with flowers more vibrant than anything he has ever seen. Birds sing in harmonious tones, fly against the sky that is impossibly blue, perfect wispy clouds gathered around alpine mountains in the distance.

Sitting against a tree, familiar form cradled against his chest. He feels a wistful sigh.  “I would spend eternity with you if I could.”

 “I’m going to call for an ambulance,” the stranger says, and somehow that cuts through the whirlwind of emotion and image crowding Jason’s head right then.

“No,” he says, straightens up. “No…I’m okay…”

This time he manages to push back the influx of thoughts, seizing on every bit of training he’s ever had in clearing his mind. The images are still coming, but Jason can think around them now.

Not sure how long for, though.

He squints at the man, trying to assess how much trouble it will be if he has to knock him out and run.

Athletic build, blond hair in a brush cut, red tattoos all up his arms of sun and flames, which Jason can see because he’s standing there in nothing but a wife-beater in mid-November. In fact, he kind of looks like someone waiting around for the next Burning Man.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” Jason snaps and starts for his bike.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” the guy demands. “You can’t just get back up on that thing, not if you’ve got a head injury or something.”

“No…”

“You’re in a bad way, man, take the help.”

“Listen, pal, if you don’t back off—”

Jason hears a motor revving up in the distance and tenses, visions of being followed by the other Bats. He destroyed the tracker on the bike before he took it, but that’s never a guarantee.

“Never mind,” he switches tacks. “You’re right. I need to go.”

He intends to go on foot, to disappear into the shadows and tree line, but the guy is pointing at his truck.

“I can drive you to the hospital if you don’t want to wait for an ambulance.”

“No hospital,” Jason replies, then forces himself to think past the blurring visions in his mind. “But…there’s somewhere I can get help.”

It’s the last place he wants to go, but he also knows it’s the only place he stands a chance of getting some answers. Even if there will be a lot of smug posturing beforehand.

“I need to get to the East End.”

“Hop in,” the guy says.

“Fine. But you try anything—”

“Relax, dude, you’re not my type.”

“Still. Full disclosure: if you try anything on me, I’ll stab you in the neck,” Jason says—or thinks he says. Everything has a decidedly dreamlike quality right now.

“Fair,” the stranger laughs. His sunny disposition should be raising flags right now, but Jason gets the feeling that’s genuine. “So, were you on your way to a costume party or something?”

Jason blinks, looks down at himself, and realizes he’s still in his gear, minus the helmet he left on the floor of the cave. The red bat seems larger, more menacing than it should be.

Instantly recognizable to the average Gothamite.

He pauses, one foot in the truck, narrows his eyes. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Nope,” is the cheerful reply. “Drove up from Florida to visit some family.”

 “Right.”

“No offense, but so far I’m not impressed,” he goes on as Jason slowly eases into the passenger seat. “The sun doesn’t really show up here much, does it?”

“You want sun, go to Metropolis,” Jason mutters, as always a bit defensive about his city.

“Oh, I’ve been there. Big Superman fan.”

“Of course you are…”

“I’m Paul, by the way.”

“Good for you. Can we get going?”

“Point the way.”

As it turns out, he doesn’t actually do much pointing. Paul apparently has an uncanny sense of direction, because Jason doesn’t recall giving him any directions. Although to be fair, he doesn’t recall very much of the drive because the minute he’s sitting down and the scenery is flying past, his mind goes back to assaulting him with images and sounds and feelings he can’t explain.

Before, the dreams were like the distant recollection of feeling and sensation, but now they images won’t leave his mind.

“In life, I sought your heart and won—I followed you into battle, and into death—I follow wherever you will go here in this place that is no place. Do you truly believe that in any life, I would not find you? That I would not be drawn to you? That I would not love you?”

It’s him, he knows that much, and that’s Tim, but at the same time, it’s not. It’s like watching from behind someone else’s eyes and yet like long-buried childhood memories suddenly making an appearance.

Paul is humming beside him, unaware of the tumult in Jason’s mind. Something about all this should be sending alarms blaring in Jason’s head, but it just doesn’t register.

“Should the time come where the gods decree we return to the land of the living, it won’t matter if we return at opposite sides of the world, as a lowly servant to the stately king, as warriors from enemy kingdoms. We will always be reunited. And we will always be ourselves. And that is enough to make me confident we would be worthy of Elysium again and again.”

“We’re about to enter the Bowery,” Paul announces. “Least that’s what the sign says. I assume that means something to you.”

“Yeah,” Jason says, looking around in confusion. “That’s a lot faster than I expected.”

“What can I say? I got some powerful horses under the hood of this thing,” the other man says, patting the dash.

Jason finds himself nodding.

He has Paul drop him off a block or two away from Tim’s apartment, waves away any attempts to go with him, and at his first opportunity disappears into the familiar alleyways without a backward glance.

He doesn’t want to risk anyone knowing where Tim lives. 

Normally he’s not bothered too much by anyone possibly recognizing him—no civilian identity means he doesn’t have to worry about his enemies tracking him down that way—but Tim’s been under public scrutiny enough in the past year or so without a known vigilante showing up at his front door.

It’s just the scoop old Vicki would kill for.

 His lips curl in disgust, and he briefly entertains the thought of tracking the reporter down and teaching her a lesson about messing with his—

“Stop it,” he orders himself.

He finds his way into Tim’s place the same way as he did before, barely notices the trip down into the depths of chrome and computer. His fingers itch, wanting to reach for someone who isn’t there, and his mouth still tastes like Tim.

Or does it?

He’s not sure if this is from now, or from the—

Memories? Is that what they are? And if so, whose?

He shakes that off. All that matters is getting to the person that can answer his question, that can tell him what’s happening to him.

Eros is sitting cross-legged in his cell, using an empty Big Belly Burger cup to play Quarters with a gold coin. He glances up when Jason appears in front of him, and his eyes widen in appreciation.

“Oh, you are handsome under that ugly red monstrosity,” he purrs, gaze roving over Jason’s features without apology.

He ignores it, instead growls out, “Something’s happening to me.”

Eros freezes.

“It’s different from before, from the…from fixating on Tim. I’m seeing—I hear whispers, it’s like I’m remembering something. Another life. Lives. But they’re not mine.”

“Fucking finally,” Eros groans in unquestionable relief. He puffs his cheeks out in irritation, “I thought you were never going to wake up.”

“Wake up? What the hell do you mean?”

“I mean, welcome back to the land of the living, your highness. You took your sweet-ass time about it.”

Jason gapes, confused for a half-second and then hit with sudden clarity.

“Peleides.”

“I have to admit, for being the work of the only sculptor the king has ever trusted with his likeness—“

“All of us who stand here are kings and the vassals of kings—"

“You know that bastard Darius is holed up across the Euphrates trying to dictate to me?”

“Peleides.”

  “—it doesn’t look a thing like him.”

“I was king,” he realizes dimly. “I was…”Achilleus. Alexandros. “…basileus.”

“Knew you’d get there eventually,” Eros nods.

It takes longer than Jason would like for him to navigate through the onslaught of memories, to parse what the winged-man is saying.

“You. You were expecting me to wake up?”

“Expecting? Darlin’, I orchestrated it,” Eros replies smugly. “You think getting tagged with my blood was an accident? That took exact planning and timing on my part.”

What.

“When my warehouse got broken into by those Russian ruffians and then you two muttonheads dropped in, I recognized your souls right away.”

“Right, because you’re a god,” Jason deadpans.

“That’s one reason,” Eros admits. “The other is that I was the one that brought you two together the first time around.”

“…What?”

“You really think the golden-haired, princeling son of a goddess would even look at some minor frontier king’s cast-off son without a push? It took preparation to put him in your path—and then, because you’re both always stubborn assholes about it, I had to bring out the arrows.”

“I thought you said people don’t need your help,” Jason says tightly.

“They don’t, normally. But with explosive chemistry like Achilleus and Patroklus, it would end up one of two ways: bitterest of rivals or greatest of lovers.”

And that…that tracks, actually. It doesn’t make it easier to process.

“And why the hell do you get to choose how that goes?” Jason demands. Somehow, it feels less like a violation being fated to be enemies with a person than to be in love with them.

“You know why. There were big things in the making. Things Achilleus had to be alive for, and if Patroklus became his greatest enemy, he wouldn’t have made it out of Phthia.”

“Bullshit.”

“Is it really?” Eros simpers. “Are you going to tell me if Patroklus—or whatever he’s called today—didn’t take it in his head to take you out, you wouldn’t be dead six ways from Sunday?”

Jason opens his mouth to tell him just that, and then pauses.

Because…

Tim was already a planner before he became Robin if everything Talia told him is true. He tangles with people like Cluemaster and fucking Ra’s al Ghul on the same level; the latter even puts his intellect and detective skills on the same level as Batman.

Hell, Damian’s been sulking for a while about some kind of hit-list for heroes and rogues alike.

If he didn’t religiously toe Bruce’s line, Tim could probably be as cold as Amanda Waller.

“Along with sending you off your head for bird boy, my blood also nixes that pesky little side-effect of you not being able to remember your previous lives,” Eros continues.

“But why?”

“I chose to wake you because of who you were. The strongest warrior of old. Determined. Reckless when it comes to the one you love. Those qualities don’t disappear when you're born into a new body, you know.”

“And obviously you want something.”

Eros’s entire demeanor shifts in an instant, going from smug pain in the ass to cold and dangerous. “I want my wife returned to me.”

Whatever Jason was expecting, it wasn’t that. There’s a beat where he repeats it again in his head, trying to make sure he heard right and momentarily thinking it’s such an easy request.

Until he remembers.

“You said she was dead.”

“In the technical sense, yes. The insecure drama queen that is my mother sent her on a quest to collect a container of beauty from the Queen of the Underworld. Someone replaced it with Stygian Sleep, which consigned her soul to the darkest, loneliest part of the Underworld.”

Jason stares, once again wondering if he heard right. “Are you shittin’ me?”

“I shit you not.”

“How the hell do you expect me to do that?”

“Funny you should mention ‘hell’,” Eros says with an unkind smile. “Obviously, you have to die first. A particular kind of dead. The kind that, under certain conditions, can be reversible.”

Conversations from the past days flicker in Jason’s memory and a particular sticking point that the Family has been very divided on.

“Stygian Sleep,” he guesses, a pit forming in his stomach.

“Exactly. And here I thought the pretty bird was the smart half of your little duo.”

Jason grits his teeth at the reference to Tim, the infection in his blood and a few millennia’s worth of latent and now remembered possessiveness boiling within him. He toys briefly with the idea of opening the damn cage and exorcising his frustrations on Eros.

The smug bastard must sense the intent because his smirk grows larger. “I’m game for a tumble if you are, sweetheart. But neither of us really has time for a quickie right now.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Jason bites out, breathing through his nose until he can get his focus back on target. The idea of messing around with Eros helps, actually; the raw disgust at being with anyone other than Tim is like a bucket of ice water, dampening his fury. “So, how does me dying bring your wife back?”

“Being exposed to the Sleep will bind you to the same corner of the Underworld as her. With the right talisman in your possession, you can switch places with her.”

“I switch places with her? Or my soul switches places with her?”

Eros honest to fucking god claps his hands in delight. “Hah! You catch on quick. Yes, she’ll need a body, since hers is long gone. With your soul no longer taking up space, the swap will be easy.”

The implication hangs in the air. Jason isn’t about to just leave it.

“And I wouldn’t be coming back.”

Eros shrugs. “Nope.”

“Then I’m not doing it. There’s no benefit for anyone else but you, and I don’t just do shit for free.”

“Ah, but you see, this is why I needed you to be awake,” Eros purrs. “Because the meathead you are now might not have anything he’d be willing to sacrifice his own soul for…but the meathead you were definitely does.”

Jason’s gut pulls tight; he suddenly knows where this is going.

“If you do this favor for me, a god, I can ensure that your beloved is guaranteed an eternity of bliss once he dies. Hades owes me a favor I’ve never cashed in.”

“If he owes you a favor, why don’t you get him to get your wife back,” Jason growls.

“You don’t think I tried that? Even the god of Death is bound by the Styx.”

Jason thinks that’s awfully convenient, but he also knows it to be true. His mother—no, Achilleus’ mother—taught him the strength and unyielding nature of the River. Even the gods are unable to break oaths sworn by that flowing water and considering the power they have—considering they can influence where a soul ends up after their human death—that limits them considerably.

Jason swallows.

“And if I still say no?”

The cold, forbidding glint is back in his eyes. “Oh, the possibilities are endless. Maybe I’ll weaken the bonds between the two of you and send your love into the arms of an enemy.”

Jason is hit by a rather chilling, nauseating image of Tim sitting at the knee of Ra’s al Ghul.

“I told you all I need is a certain chemistry between two people,” Eros goes on, “and I’m sure there’s someone out there that would be happy to take and twist Patroklus or Hephaestion or whatever he’s called now until he’s so sullied he’ll be sent straight to Tartarus. And there’s no reincarnating from there. So he’ll be in Tartarus and you’ll be pining away in the Mourning Fields.” He pretends to consider it. “Of course, maybe you guys won’t find my diviners before then. In which case, things get messy. Assuming the world doesn’t descend into a frenzy of fucking, I may just use him until the flesh falls from his bones and he’s too exhausted to take another breath.”

Jason slams his fist into the glass. “You touch him, I’ll fucking rip your head off.”

“No, you won’t. You’ll be dead by this point. And he still won’t end up in the same place as you when you both die.”

“If I kill you now, it won’t really matter.”

“Killing a god…another one-way trip to Tartarus, and you still don’t save him any pain. Face it, Helmet Head, I’ve got you by the proverbial balls. At least if you cooperate, you get something out of it instead of royally shafted.”

Jason’s hands twitch toward his gun holster, rage blurring his vision for a moment at both the implicit and veiled threats.

He’s stuck, and he knows it,

Either Jason accepts this, thus guaranteeing Tim a peaceful afterlife—which, given the amount of shit he’s gone through would be a hell of a reward—or Jason can tell the entitled god of Love to fuck off.

And then die an agonizing death from going mad or taking the easy way out by shooting myself. Neither of which is a good death, if there can be such a thing.

Neither option ends with Jason’s afterlife being anything resembling peaceful.

Not that he ever expected anything like that, even the first time he died.

Or third time, I guess.

If all of this only involved him, it would be an easy decision to make. He’s never had an issue with throwing himself off the deep end of a bad situation—in any life—but it’s not just about him.

“If we’re going to be separated anyhow, it’s no different if it’s in paradise or rotting on the side of the Styx,” he says dully.

“Well, if that’s what you want to consign yourselves to,” Eros allows. “Or rather, what you want to consign your lover to. Imagine, fair Patroklus wasting away his eternity as a shade, crowding for space along the river, his only highlight when some wet-behind-the-ears comes looking for council. Lapping up blood from the dirt like a dog.”

The metaphorical knife twists and Jason has to fight down the urge to vomit.

“No.”

“Then, there you have it. Easy choice then.”

Jason swallows.

Tim is innocent in all of this, in that he doesn’t remember any other life but this one. He doesn’t know what they once were. But when his life ends, whether in the pursuit of Batman’s never-ending crusade, or eighty years old lying in bed, he’s going to wake up in the Underworld and remember everything.

If Jason doesn’t help Eros, he’s in for an eternity of misery.

Imagining the destroyed expression on his face—on Hephaestion, on Patroklus—makes Jason feel as if someone has shoved a knife into his own heart. Neither of them wanted to be separated; an eternity together was the whole point of making their pact, of trying to achieve Elysium three times.

It’s a huge decision.

Thousands of years of a pact to be together, and he’s contemplating breaking it. He can’t just decide this for both of them without Tim—without Patroklus—knowing the stakes, and without hearing his advice.

“Is there a way to wake him, too?” he asks roughly. “To get his memories back?”

“Same way as you,” Eros replies. “Mix blood—you’ve got me in your veins now, so you can even do that yourself if it’s one of your kinks.”

Jason shudders, at the implication and the information. That would just put Tim in the same boat as Jason, losing his mind and bound for a grisly death.

“Screw that. I’ll just tell him,” he decides. “He’s heard stranger things than that. I’ll explain it all to him.”

It won’t be exactly like telling Patroklus, but they’re the same person deep down.

“Sure, that’ll work,” Eros muses. “Or he might think you’re so far gone into your obsession with him that you’ve become delusional. He might even lock you up in digs like this, and then you can be useless to everyone.” He shrugs. “He’ll still be of use to me, though. So do whatever you want. Wake him up, don’t wake him up, I’ll still have someone to offer my deal to.”

Jason’s stomach sinks, because it’s true.

Patroklus—Hephaestion—Tim; he’s always been a self-sacrificing little shit, especially when it comes to him. If he thinks it will save Jason—save Achilleus or Alexandros—he’ll throw himself on the metaphorical sword.

And Tim’s been stabbed enough for one lifetime.

The men Jason was before would hate him for doing this. He thinks they would fight the gods themselves, bank on pride and anger to enact their will. They were heroes in their own mind, not fearing mortal challengers or death itself.

It’s the fundamental difference between them; Jason didn’t grow up as a king that was never given limits. He was born in the dirt and has been kicked back there repeatedly in his life. It’s taught him exactly what situations are worth it—whether the collateral damage is worth it—and when to regroup, or retreat.

He can’t see a way of winning this one. And only one scenario has a half-way acceptable outcome.

“I don’t give a shit about what Achilleus or Alexandros want, because I ain’t them,” Jason snarls. “Barring a few surround-sound memories, they’re about as real to me as the kid I was before I died. A memory, that's it.”

Eros bares his teeth. “That your final answer?”

“I’ll do it,” Jason tells him at last. “I put that kid through enough. I owe him. At least if he checks out of this life early like I did, I’ll know he’s going somewhere better.”

Even if it is without me.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, darlin’,” Eros replies, striding over to the drawer where he’s been getting his food. He opens it, tosses something inside with a clatter. “Keep this on you. It has to be on you when you succumb to the Sleep, otherwise, you and Psyche will both be trapped there and everyone’s fucked. And not in the good way.”

Warily, Jason opens the drawer on the outside and picks up the small, flat gold coin.

“What is this? Drachma for the ferryman?”

He's only being a little sarcastic; at this point, he wouldn't be surprised.

“Sort of the opposite. Too complicated for your monkey brain to understand,” Eros dismisses. “Just don’t lose it. For your boyfriend’s sake.”

Jason’s fist closes around the coin.

He tries not to wonder if Tim, or the men he was before, will forgive him for this. 

⁂⁂⁂

________________________________________________________________

I want to know what you think of my story! Leave kudos, a comment or if writing comments isn’t something you’re comfortable with, as many of these (or other emojis) as you want and let me know how you feel!

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🍬 = so sweet and fluffy!

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Next Chapter

#jaytimweek2019 #jaytimweek #jaytim #jaytimbingo2019 #fanfic #jaytim fic #batfic #tim drake #jason todd #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #eros (new earth) #angst #action #drama #betrayal #amnesia #underworld #reincarnation

[m00nslippers]

Jason is a clever bitch and I love him, in RHATO Issue #32

Okay now we’re finally moving Jason closer to the Winick version that I think is most people’s favorite Red hood--it’s not there yet, but we’re seeing the hints. The cleverness, the charm, the unrepentant sass. Oh yes, we are going places, I like what I see.

Let’s dive in here.

Whoever made that post about Jason not even needing a cover story about being dead to revive his identity was kind of prophetic because here his cover is basically, “So I wasn’t actually dead. no more details, that’s it.” Which is pretty dang close.

And I’m not sure how he managed any of this without Bruce or Alfred finding out but that is damn impressive. We know they didn’t know because we see Alfred’s reaction shot to seeing him on TV. If we don’t see him interact with a few of the other Gotham vigilantes, (or at least see a reaction shot of them all like, “What!? Jason?! The guy we had to physically blackmail to attend galas is running a casino with parties every night? That Jason?!) at some point I’m going to be pretty disappointed, to be honest.

Also, as we already knew from the solicitations and previews, Jason is taking over the Iceburg lounge and looking fancy while he does it. I love it. Jason can put on an act with the best of the batboys. Look at this well dressed man! And his hair! He has hair again, praise the Lord, hallelujah!

Completely unrelated note, that reporter has some really fancy cuff earrings or something and I’m jealous.

I’m validated for noticing Suzie Su was behind Jason in the previews. She and her sisters are part of his crew basically. It’s actually nice to see villains/characters return, too often they are just one-shot or one-note baddies but Suzie has been there since New 52 RHATO and she got a bit of humanization in the Annual when we meet her sisters. She’s not just some creepy fat lady that creeps on Jason, she’s a big sister who is trying to do her best for her family and I like that Jason acknowledges that and brings her and her family in on his scheme and even gets them out of the crime business sort-of by giving them mostly legit employment.

The way he has a bunch of ladies following him around kind of reminds me of Dick with the girls from St. Hadrian's a little bit. But they were all super into Dick and these girls don’t seem interested in Jason at all except as like a boss, which I like.

Jason, this is the kind of thing you should ask about! Ugggghh ~

Wingman looked older in the last page of the previous issue for some reason, maybe he’s died his hair or something. So we still don’t know what’s going on with him. I was hoping we’d get something, a hint but we’ve literally got nothing to go on here. I honestly think he has some kind of direct relation to Jason. Either he’s his dad’s mind in a different inmates body, or maybe a lost cousin or brother or something, or has something to do with the future like he came from there. It’s got to be one of those things, nothing else makes sense that I can think of.

LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL BOY! JUST LOOK AT HIM. LOOK AT THOSE EYELASHES AND BLUE EYES AND THAT SMILE.

Anyone would be charmed. I think Jason is too much of an introvert to like this kind of public job exactly, but I also think he’d be good at it. Dick might be better, because he’s just a natural extrovert, but Jason is still up there. He’s a good actor, and he really cares about people so he’d take care of those he’s in charge of. Jason would be a good boss.

“Started from the bottom now we’re here,” that’s a Drake lyric.

Could these guys be bigger dorks?

Notice that Jason didn’t kill the guys that were causing trouble, he had Miggs (his nickname for Miguel) roll them off to the docks in a ball made with his powers and those dorks were totally right, the room he made was pretty gucci. You got taste, Miguel.These weren’t necessarily real bad guys, they were just punks, and Jason might be killing again but he doesn’t just kill any idiot that gets in his way or causes trouble.

Also, technically they might have been right about Night cheating, we don’t actually know how ‘legit’ the Su sisters are playing things.

I’m sort of torn on the way the colorist is depicting Miguel’s powers, like I miss the glowiness a little bit from New 52 Teen Titans. These look a little too much like normal bricks? But technically that might be better for Miguel, they can pass as normal bricks instead of a power when they have to. They looked clear or white before when the guys walked in there so maybe he can control their color/transparency and glowiness? I still would like to see them look glowy though.

A few things about Miguel: I think these panels illustrated pretty well what their dynamic is supposed to be. I know Jason called Bizarro his ‘friend’ but let’s be honest here, Bizarro isn’t Jason’s friend--he’s his little brother.

Jason compares Miguel to Bizarro and I think that’s key, he sees Miguel as like a little brother that he wants to help. He’s got powers that he doesn’t understand and people keep coming after him for them. I think with Miguel and Tim it was closer to a friendship of equals at least as far as Miguel saw. He admired and respected Tim as a leader and how he always seemed to know what to do, but in the end Miguel was older than Tim, he didn’t feel like he could completely lean on him. It looks like Miguel may have latched on to Jason in that way, since he has the bat-authority too and actually is older than him and a genuinely caring guy. And look at my boy Jason! He comforts and accepts him immediately, it’s so sweat.

Goddamn it, Jason is a good older brother! He’s the best freaking older brother, damn Bruce and the whole family’s bat-morals, man! You’re all missing this! He could have this with Tim and Damian and Duke and even Steph and Cass! He would love that! He would be so good at that! It’s a goddamn tragedy, is what it is.

Also it’s interesting how Miguel acknowledges the reboots, so are his powers related to reality-warping or something so he can sense it? Or it could just be more of this suggestion that a lot of people in the DC universe right now have memories from the previous continuity, so like it all kind of happened even if it technically didn’t type of thing. I kind of thought Miguel’s powers were energy projections made with his mind, like psionically, but maybe they are literally creating matter or something? I don’t know. I really need to read more New 52 Teen Titans to understand him and his powers.

And that line, “A loaded weapon in the hands of a confused teenager. What could go wrong?”

Wow, Jason, you really went there. Referenced you’re own crazy head-state when you went after Bruce in Under the Hood.

Jason is so self-deprecating, you guys.

“When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept for there were no more worlds to conquer. “ This is apparently a quote from Die Hard, because of course it is. Jason is literally Jake Peralta from Brooklyn 99 confirmed.

Ugh, Lobdell’s version of Bruce is just such an asshole!

First of all, Jason hasn’t ‘betrayed him’ not even once, he was emotionally compromised and broke their agreement because he was acting on those feelings. He made a mistake. And Bruce cared more about his rules than Jason’s intentions or feelings or any of the good will they’d fostered in the last year or two. He acts like Jason sold him out or lied to him, when he never did any of those things.

Also, I don’t think saying, “stay out of Gotham and never come back or I’ll throw down and toss you in Arkham” is another chance, okay? It’s not like Jason got anything out of that deal, it was just Bruce not wanting to go through the trouble of hunting him down outside of Gotham because he straight-up knew that he wouldn’t be able to!

That Pretty Woman reference...

The funny thing is, Jason is more like the character who says that line than Bruce is. Bruce, kicking Jason out of the bat-family, is the one who is making the mistake. He could have had an ally, had say in what Jason did, had some limited control over him if he’d just forgiven him or talked to him at all, but because of his pride now he has none of that.

Now this, this is my shit right here. JASON HAS BRUCE BY THE BALLS. By going public with his identity he’s effectively made himself untouchable by Bruce. He’s got the identity of every Gotham vigilante in his hands, and honestly I really doubt Jason would ever give them up, even out of spite or hatred, he never did before when he could have, (he didn’t tell Hush Bruce’s identity, he just didn’t deny it when Hush figured it out, and we’re not sure if that’s even canon anymore anyway.) but it’s partly Bruce’s own doubt in Jason that is keeping his hands tied! That and the fact that if even one of his kids is outted as a vigilante it really puts the suspicion on him.

But seriously guys. Smart Jason is what Iive for.

God, Jason calling him dad, but only because he’s ‘playing up the act’ of civilian Jason Todd, has got to hurt Bruce. Assuming Lobdell’s version of Bruce has any actual feelings of affection for Jason, otherwise it probably just grates.

Lol, okay, so the situation seems to be that Jason dropped in to the Iceburg lounge to pay Penguin a visit. Cobblepot went, “Oh no! That damned Red Hood is here, hide me!” Ran into his panic room and locked it and Jason was just like, “Well, isn’t this convenient,” and made it so he couldn’t get back out.

And then presumably gangster-rules applied and Jason just got all his businesses because he said they were his and no one wanted to argue? I guess? Lobdell doesn’t give satisfying explanations, you guys. This is a testament to that.

I’m not going to lie though, this is pretty satisfying.

Alright, so I’m really excited for more you guys. This is not a perfect issue, a lot of things are hand waved, Bruce is acting even more out of character than usual, and we still have no dang clue what’s going on with Wingman, but there are definitely things here I like, and i’m looking forward to more.

#Jason Todd #Red hood #Miguel barragan #Bunker #Wingman #Suzie Su #Su Sisters #Oswald Cobblepot #The Penguin #Bruce Wayne #Batfam #RHATO #Outlaws rebirth #Red Hood And The Outlaws #Issue #32 #Spoilers #but not the actual spoiler #meta #reviews

[justm3h]

Plot - Triskaidekaphobia

Summary: Marco has lived many lives. Lives as a civilian, lives with the Marines, lives as a pirate and the smallest butterfly effect makes each adventure new. But each death has him waking up after eating the first fruit of his life.

Another chance, another life.

One more shot to make things right.

Characters: Marco the Phoenix, Monkey D. Garp, Bell-mere, Donquiote “Corazon” Rosicante, Coby, Gol D. Roger, Silvers Rayleigh, Shanks, Benn Beckman, Makino, Monkey D. Luffy, Edward Newgate, Thatch, Portgas D. Rouge, Portgas D. Ace, Sabo, Monkey D.Dragon, Buggy, Straw Hat Crew, Kureha, Nico Olvia, Marshall D. Teach, Trafalgar D. Water Law

Pairing: Rouge/Roger, slight Makino/Shanks but mostly Gen

1-8

The first life Marco lives is boring and normal. He passes peacefully, a respected but simple village doctor, flames flicker even as he’s eyes fall shut for the last time. Only for that not to be true, as he opens them once again to hands the size of a child and not an old man.

The second life he travels the South Blue. He wants to see what the sea has to offer him and he makes friends and learns so much. He dies this time by drowning, and decides he doesn’t like it very much.

The third time, he starts figuring things out. Each death has him wake up right after eating the worst tasting fruit of his life. He’s grown use to the blue flames that heal and the obsession with cinnamon but the healing is a gift enough.

Marco travels further, learning skills of a sailor. He enjoys navigating the most, for the stars are the only thing that seem to be consistent with every redo.

His third adventure ends, accidentally being eaten in the calm belt. Another mistake he swears to Never Make Again.

The fourth one comes and he realizes he needs to learn how to fight and joins the Marines.

He’s not very good at first, more often than not, he fumbles and fails and it stuck in a lower position for some time. He only hears later of the Summit War and even then it’s just boring news that doesn’t matter on the blues.

One drowning later and Marco becomes a Marine again on count 5. His ‘talent’ is noticed. He’s sent to the Grandline and trains with other fresh recruits. He is in awe as he catches sight of the admirals and of the legendary hero Garp. The Marines try to figure out what fruit he ate but have as much luck as he has in the past. He makes it as far as Captain before dying tragically protecting his men.

6 and 7 are much the same. Joins the Marines and is satisfied with the rank of Captain. He enjoys having the spunky Bell-mere under his tutelage til she is transferred and quit soon after. Marco enjoys seeing Rosicante grow from a brat he babysat to a fine Marine although still a walking disaster.

Marco always takes different posts and assignments, never wanting to have the confusion of knowing something he shouldn’t. It doesn’t stop him from befriending a few of the same people over and over again, but those are just some binds he’s not willing to let go.

But 5 to 7 are also where Marco really starts to notice something wrong with the world. He never noticed on the Blues, too isolated from the Grandline and the Red to pay much mind to it.

There was corruption, Marines taking bribes or turning a blind eye to the pleadings of the people who begged for help. The admirals were bias, unable to get pasted their own convictions to just help.

It caused Bell-mere to leave and Rosicante’s death.

It hurt.

8 seems to hurt the most. He was put under the care of Garp. He learned so much about the Vice Admiral, Garp yelled about his brat grandkids and Fists of Love were a daily occurrence. Regardless of his violence, Garp was what the Marines should have been. Heroes. Marco could see it in the boy and his friend that Garp adopted, made all too clear when the pink haired boy jumped in front of a cannon.

He and Bogard would watch from a distance as the two chore boys trained. Fought for the right to be Marines. Bogard taught Helmeppo, the tall blond better with blades, while Marco taught Coby the basics of hand to hand til Garp took over their training.

Marco always made sure to patch the young men up at the end of the day, a doctors work never done, even after they picked a fight with Garp’s grandson.

“Dumb Brats,” he joking at Garp as he checks over Coby and Helmeppo after their fight.

Marco got a good look at Garp’s grandson, Monkey D. Luffy. He was much like his grandfather, even as they both fell asleep in the middle of their own fight.

But Marco hasn’t seen pirates like these since Roger, despite the Marine propaganda, his cabin boy Shanks, or Whitebeard. Considering the rookie pirate had Red-Haired Shanks’ old straw hat…. Who if all the praises Coby said were true, saved him and a whole town, was more hero than a pirate had the right to be.

Monkey D. Luffy who dreamed of being King of the Pirates. Well, Marco could admit to himself he wouldn’t mind seeing the boy become the second King.

Even if the crew couldn’t handle a few cannonballs from Garp at the moment.

Then Marineford. The stories he had heard in passing before, if he lived long enough to hear them, paled in comparison to the actual event.

It was a massacre. Garp fell and so did his grandson. Whitebeard died on his feet seeing his adopted son and blood son of Gol D. Roger perish under the executioner’s blade. And there impaled on a molten fist was Coby, the boy Garp hoped would continue his legacy.

Marco died, a screech echoing over the battlefield as he flew to attack the lava man, with ice and light ripping through his body.

9 and 1st Time Pirate

9 he wakes to wings not hands and realizes just exactly what the fruit did to him.

Marco does not join the Marines this time, preferring to not think about all the blood and death he still had nightmares about.

This time, he flies and travels. The seas no longer limit him and stars will always be his guide. He doesn’t tire but can just fly for what seems like forever.

The blond witnesses Gol D. Roger’s death, spotting the would be faces of many soon to be known names. It’s curious but Red Hair asks if he wants to join his crew.

“Why?”

“You look interesting!”

Needing something new and knowing full well what kind of pirate the young man is from endless rants from Garp, Marco accepts. Not like he has anything better to do.

It’s maybe the worst decision he’s ever made as the seemingly endless parties usually leave it up to him to keep them on course, unable to get drunk without the help of seastone.

He’s grateful when Benn joins, if not just to keep Shanks somewhat in line for a pirate. There are questions about his knowledge of the Marines and he makes no point to hide that he ‘quit’.

“Being a pirate suit you more?”

“Seems so Cap.”

If more pirates were like Red Hair, he ponders, watching the man make a fool of himself for a pretty green haired girl, then there wouldn’t been so many issues in the world.

Marco meets a young Monkey D. Luffy, still as mischievous as before, and laughs at the reaction Shanks has when he learns the kid he’s taken a shine to is related to Garp.

“He’s got his Grandfather’s smile.”

“I’m concerned how you know that, Marc.”

It goes much like canon, Luffy is kidnapped and is taken to the middle of the bay and Marco is actually the one who flys Shanks out there.

Marco has a first hand experience of watching Shanks lose his arm. He apologizes for not being faster but Shanks just smiles.

“He’s worth it.”

Shanks becomes Emperor, Marco and Benn both arguably first mate but Marco gets his first bounty poster.

“The Phoenix?”

“Pretty on the nose with that one.”

They have many clashes, with pirates and other Marines alike. Marco finds he enjoys the meetings with the man called Whitebeard the most. At worst, they have a fight but usually they are all too hungover by the time it gets to that.

The morning after a rare party between Shanks and Whitebeard, the air was full of the smell of breakfast and hint of something else. It made Marco pause his berated tairaid against Shanks’ stupidity and abruptly walks away. He followed the smell, leading him to the Moby Dicks kitchen where a man in a chefs suit was elbow deep in kneading bread. But the smell. He breathed it in barely noticing Shanks and Benn following.

The chef looks up and smiles.

“Hey! You’re on Shanks crew, right? I’m Thatch, head chef and 3rd commander! Nice to meet you… hey hello? You in there?”

Thatch looks confused as he holds up the cinnamon and Marco’s eyes follow. Left, right, up, down. Thatch eventually hands Marco a fresh roll and he literally coos with joy.

Shanks LOOSES it. Marco screeches, launching at Shanks with a kick. They run out of the kitchen and Thatch is just so confused and Benn is amused.

The Red Force is then on always stocked with Cinnamon and Thatch always gifts Marco with new cinnamon treats to try, a personal challenge of his.

Marineford comes again, Shanks having tried to prevent it but failed. It was hard to hear that Thatch had been killed but Marco keeps focused as they fight Kaido to make it in time to do anything.

By the time they arrive, it’s much the same nightmare as before. Garp survives but both his grandchildren have fallen, Whitebeard stands dead once again with much of his children at his feet. Shanks was able to save Coby, the boy just inches from having a face full of magma. The Marines scream victory but Marco can only feel hollow.

He’s been on both sides of that battlefield now and neither feel like a victory.

The Red Hair pirates help with gathering the dead, Marco keeping watch on everything as much as he can. Garp looks at him with such mistrust it hurts more than anything.

He offers his condolences, something he couldn’t offer a corpse previously. Garp is somber but accepts. The true sadness is when he gives Shanks the straw hat telling him that Luffy would have wanted him to have it.

It’s not til after the funerals that Marco sits with Shanks and Benn. He’s got a sea stone ring on as he drinks and drinks.

He tells them the truth. He’s old and seen this before and nothing changes. Death seems to be the only result.

They talk to him about the Marines, about the first time, about everything.

“I see these things and don’t know how to fix them. All the paths seem to lead to that blasted war.”

Benn looks at him, “Have you really tried?”

Marco stares into his drink. Has he? He’s taken different roads but never really did much to change things did he?

The phoenix finds new determined and confidence in the faith that both of them have in him to fix things. They won’t remember him, no one does, but they were proud to call him nakama for all these years.

“If you ever need us, find us again, tell us something that only we would know and a bottle of booze. We’ll drink together again.” Shanks tells him before stabbing Marco through the heart.

10 and the Guardian

10 and Marco awakes on a mission. He grows just old enough to be accepted as a cabin boy and flies. Flies far, far away from his home to the Grand line. Where he find the Roger pirates, a budding crew well on their way to greatness. He learns from the best, gaining first hand experience on why the Pirate King was so formidable.

Haki is a well worth nightmare to learn from two of its greatest users. Even if it meant that he had to babysit a younger and somehow even more reckless Shanks and fellow cabin boy Buggy.

Marco watches with a whole new level of sadness at Roger’s passing. Shanks again asks for him to join his crew but Marco declines stating that he’s going to travel for a bit and figure out where life takes him.

Where it ends up taking him, is more preset than he would have Shanks believe. He follows Garp to a small island in the South blue where he see Rouge give birth to the little boy named Ace.

Garp confronts the man but Marco has kept his powers a secret from the Marines this time, a fall back for if things got dicey. He follows Garp, bird shaped so know no one is the wiser.

He spends years watching over the boy. Raising him in ways that Garp couldn’t. He’s there for when Garp brings Luffy to the town for Makino to care for. He watches over these boys that are so, so important.

And he meets Shanks again when the Red Hair Pirates come to town.

Marco lets Shanks meet Luffy and pulls him aside to take a walk. They walk to the forest where Shanks feels eyes watching. Marco remains calm and jovial even as two young boys attack him with metal pipes.

He easily defeats the two and leaves Shanks stunned for once. He watches as both brats yell at Marco for beating them again as Marco scolds them right back for their poor technique.

The tall blond introduces the two brats as Ace and Sabo, his charges shared under Garp.

“Garp?! That old fart?!”

“Hey! Don’t you call gramps an old fart, dye job!”

“What did you just call me brat?!”

Shanks and Ace bicker with each other as Marco and Sabo watch amused.

Shanks spends most of the walk back grumbling about pain in the ass kids.

“He takes after Roger but I see more of Rouge in him.”

“Ugh he’s just as stubborn as the Cap.. tain.” Shanks pauses… and stares at Marco then back at the forest and the back at Marco. “He- That’s?!”

“You have to swear never to speak of this Shanks… Garp and I have protected him for this long. I would hate to think we failed because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

“Never. For the Captain and Rouge’s son never…. tell me more about him Marco.”

“Let’s go talk over drinks.”

Marco still enjoys getting a shocked face out of Shanks.

For the whole year he’s in the East Blue, he splits his time between Luffy and the two boys on the mountain.

Shanks shares stories of his time as a cabin boy on Roger’s crew, which causes Ace to get mad but then he’s pacified when hearing other tales of his mother.

Ace doesn’t hate his father quite as much this time but still has enough of a stigma to still be angry with him.

But canon has a way of happening and Shanks once again loses an arm for Luffy. Marco watches with sadness knowing his friend will be sailing from the Blue permanently. He bids them a safe journey and for Benn to keep his sanity. Shanks just laugh and they share a hug.

Garp returns, furious that Marco lets his brat grandson be influenced by that damn Red Hair. Marco just shrugs, knowing full well if Garp meant it he would have come back sooner. News of Red Hair being in the East Blue wasn’t hard to find, Marco could clearly remember Garp complaining about it while he was in the Marines. The Phoenix does inform Garp that Shanks knows about Ace and the grandfather sighs.

“He’s got his mother’s freckles as clear as day.”

“Suits him.”

“Aye.”

Luffy befriends the boys who become brothers then canon canon canon. Marco can only do so much good saving Ace and Dudan, and then going to search for Sabo. He finds the boy on a ship in a coma in the hands of…

“Ah, hello Dragon.”

The two talk, Marco explaining who the boy is and his… situation. Marco holds off on moving the boy till he wakes, his injuries far too severe to move him right away.

So Dragon and Marco talk. Marco is kind enough to share stories of Luffy growing up, something the father smiles at. It’s a peace offering.

Sabo awakens with amnesia. He reacts poorly to going home but seems to take pause at the mention of brothers.

“Ace? Luffy?”

“Yes. Those are their names.”

“I have brothers.”

Marco and Sabo go back home, with Dragon leaving Marco with his den den number in case there’s something Garp can’t handle. Ace and Luffy barely let Sabo out of their sight for days but help the boy relearn things and heal.

Years pass and both Ace and Sabo are the age to set sail. Marco stays with Luffy as they watch the boy’s two older brother sail away together. Marco tells them to watch each others backs and keep their wits.

“More than anything stay safe, stay alive.”

“You worry too much Marc, we’ll be fine.“

"I’ll keep him out of trouble Marco.”

“Hey!“

There Marco remains hearing about the two’s adventures with brief updates via the mail. He’s pleased to see both have taken up with Whitebeard. The old man would keep the boys safe.

The day Luffy sets out, Marco goes with him. Luffy pouts but he’s pleased that he’ll have some of his family with him. Marco flies high above enjoying the sun and completely misses the whirlpool until it’s too late. He can only watch as Luffy bobs in the water stuck in a barrel.

Just great.

East Blue basically happens with a plus one Marco. He tries to stay out of the way as much as possible, he’s not Luffy’s crew, these aren’t his fights but seeing all these familiar faces is both nice and painful.

He watches Coby’s beginning and the strength he got from Luffy plus how much Helmeppo changed.

Seeing Buggy, Roger’s other cabin boy, again was interesting.

"Buggy!”

“Oh damn, a flashy idiot from the past.”

“You know this clown?!”

“We were part of the same crew.”

“Did he have the nose then too?”

“ah… ”

“HOW DARE YOU?!”

They travel from one island to the next, picking up a first mate, navigator, and then a sharpshooter. Marco was sad to hear about Usopp’s mother passing, he hadn’t been aware of her death while still traveling with Shanks and as a doctor, it was probably something he could have prevented.

Marco left the Baratie early, flying after Nami with the other boat following his lead.

Marco pats Luffy on the head before he goes, “Stay safe.”

“Yosh~!” He nods at Hawkeye and flys off.

Learning exactly how Bell-mere passed was hard. She died like a hero protecting her girls and he could respect that after now raising so many kids, so many times, himself.

Still he honors Luffy’s claim of dibs but does destroy the Marine ships nearby, earning his bounty to raise once again.

Lougetown was interesting. He has no wish to see the site where Roger died, he’s seen it too many times as is and walks towards a familiar presence on the other side of town. He finds Dragon in a hole in the wall pub and they have drinks.

Small talk is exchanged and the leader of the revolutionary army has some good gossip… and some bad.

“Ace and Sabo have been seen leaving the new world for paradise… its said they are tracking someone named Teach…”

“Damn…”

Their talk is cut short when the wind picks up from a storm rolling in… and a person barges in yelling about an execution in the square.

“Looks like your son found trouble again. Does he get that from you or his mother?”

“No comment.”

Marco rushes ahead, allowing Dragon to slip away into the shadows. He doesn’t do much but does strike some more fear of god into Buggy for messing with his chick.

“I FORGOT HOW PROTECTIVE YOU GET JEEZ.”

They escape with a shared nod between Dragon and Marco.

When they start sharing their dreams on the way up reverse mountain, Marco has a vague one to share “To prevent the future.”

Que the beginning of the Alabasta arc. Past knowledge has always been limited when it comes to Luffy’s journey. It was filled with misinformation and other hole so he was honestly not expecting for there to be a GIANT WHALE. Oh, hi Crocus.

“You know this flower?”

“Reluctantly, yoi.”

“Brat!”

“My name is Crocus, the lighthouse keeper of Twin Capes. I’m 71 years old, a Gemini and type AB blood.”

“ YOU’RE A CAPRICORN YOI.”

They sail away from the capes, experiencing the strange weather of the Grandline for the first time. “It feels like coming home.” The Blues no longer felt quite the home, like the Grandline.

They arrive at Whiskey Peak and Marco is instantly suspicious. He joins the drinking with merry joy. They could try to get him drunk all they wanted but even with a seastone ring, he’s partied with Roger, Shanks and Whitebeard. This was nothing.

He fake passes out with Nami and Zoro, both having caught on to the plot.

Baroque Works reveals themselves and Marco fights the Millions. They are weak even by Grandline standards but their numbers prove to be the most annoying.

As Vivi explains what’s happening to her country and Mr.0 being Crocodile things are starting to become clear on how the Navy originally covered the whole mess up.

Little Garden is basically identical expect Marco is with Sanji as most of this goes down. So he’s not involved with any of it.

When Nami comes down sick, Marco tries to cure her but is unfamiliar with her illness. His memory reminds him of a long since wiped out Disease that it could be but he doesn’t have the ingredients. His flames help keep her fever down but are unable to do much else.

When Marco isn’t looking after Nami, he’s taken over navigation getting them safely to Drum… Mostly, til this hippo gets on deck. Marco has the sick satisfaction of seeing Luffy send the little gremlin flying for eating a chunk of Merry.

Marco would fly Nami all the way to the top but its too snowy and windy for him to make the flight safely with a passenger, especially one as sick as she was. He joins Luffy and Sanji in carrying her up to the top, the cold not really an issue. Luffy tries to fight him on it but Marco hits him on the head with his own Fist of Love.

“She’s Nakama, Luffy. I’m going, yoi.”

“…Fine.”

Marco is the one to carry Sanji to the top while Luffy still has Nami. He’s exhausted but awake when Chopper finds them by the cliff. He heals naturally, bundled up in a blanket by a fire. He hears Dr. Kureha’s story about Chopper and the island, casually wondering if it would have been the same for him had he known from the beginning he could shift into a flaming bird.

Wapol’s arrival at the castle is unwelcomed in his opinion and short lasting at least. He, as always, stays out of the fight, but assists the Doctor in keeping Sanji out of it as well.

lucky:i like how he’s present but not changing things

Wapol is defeated giving Kureha and Marco a chance to chat. It turns into this and that, the will of D., and…

“Your eyes look old.”

“I bet.”

“How many cycles have you gone through, Phoenix?“

”…what?“

"Rebirths? Is that what you call it? Bah. no matter… not everyone can age as gracefully as me.”

She admits that she read about it once briefly in an old medical tomb. A previous user went insane on their 13th rebirth.

“I’m on my 10th, yoi. I don’t even know why it keeps happening.”

“Well you might want to figure that one out soon.”

“Any hints?”

“The book mention they went crazy and burned to ash, nothing about a cure.”

“Fantastic.”

They leave, both merry and somber. Marco won’t abandon Luffy to go hunt for a solution he may not even find.

So the Strawhat crew is finally almost to Alabasta. Mr.2 doesn’t get Marco’s face cause he was in bird form looking down on the shenanigans.

The dock and Marco feels the two familiar presences with a large smile. They meet back up with Ace first then Sabo who was spying as Ace got into trouble with Smoker.

Luffy introduces his two brothers much to the crews shock. Two Whitebeard pirates and they are Luffy’s brothers?! Marco laughs glad to have his boys back in one place if not just for a bit.

Ace and Sabo inform him they’ve been tracking a traitor named Teach. Marco actually pulls them both aside and tells them to be careful and don’t underestimate him.

“Do you know something Marc?”

“…I don’t like this. If he’s underhanded enough to stab a crewmate, who knows what else he has planned.”

“We’ll be careful.”

They travel across the sand and dunes, Marco switching between flight and walking. The heat is aggravating but manageable.

They seem to be on a wild goose chase when the rebel army moved and the rain base is also a dead end. They race to stop Crocodile, Luffy and he crew taking care of the fights while Marco flies the bomb into the middle of the sky to explode.

They rest and recover, Marco getting scolded for once for his recklessness, and finally set sail on Merry on to discover a new crew mate.

Marco isn’t sure what to think about Nico Robin. But she doesn’t seem to have any ill intentions so he accepts her easily enough.

When the log post points up to a sky island, Marco offers to fly up and set it so they can just continue on but Luffy pouts at him, rejecting his proposal to no one’s surprise.

Marco stays on the ship at Mock town, avoiding the encounter with Blackbeard and his crew.

The Skypedia arc goes as well as expected. Marco briefly explains the basics of Haki as Enel tries to strike them again and again with lightning.

Luffy wins, Marco comments on Enel’s poor luck of finding the one man in all the seas immune to his attacks.

Marco can tell something is wrong with Merry. At night he can hear a hammer tapping away. His worst fears are confirmed at Water 7.

The Phoenix can only watch as the crew learns of Merry broken keel and then of Luffy’s fight with Usopp. He can’t condone Usopp’s behavior but understands why the long nose felt so deeply about it.

Because he going to miss Merry too.

Things are only further complicated when Robin leaves along with the arrival of CP9. In his lives, Marco never encountered the Marines spies but had heard enough about them to realize they were bad news. With the reveal of the blueprints for Pluton, Marco is on high alert.

Marco follows the escaping CP9 with the captured Franky and Usopp, flying high above to not be seen.

The crew is all reunited as they approach Enies Lobby. It’s through his travels, Marco has learned a great deal of the corruption of the Marines, but hearing of the truth for the buster call on Robin’s home is sickening.

One by one, the Straw Hats beat CP9, Marco taking care of many of the minions running around the place.

As the buster call arrives, Marco destroys many of the Marine ships until Luffy defeats Lucci. The crew escapes on Merry, Marco watching from the sky’s over head. Even he can’t help but cry when they give her a funeral by fire.

Marco is elated seeing Garp, Coby and Helmeppo again. It’s on friendly terms for the first time since he had been a Marine and he missed their shenanigans. Luffy’s father is no surprise to him and Garp calls him out, Marco admitting he’s met him before.

“Damn annoying brat.”

They set sail on the new Thousand Sunny, Marco knocking away some of Garps cannonballs. Somethings never change.

Thriller Bark is interesting, Marco had heard of Moriah’s island ship but had never seen it and now was wishing he never had the chance. His shadow was never personal stolen from him, Haki keeping it safe from Moriah’s grubby hands.

Brook is about the closest thing Marco has ever seen to his own rebirth powers but quickly discovers that’s not quite right as he could only do it once and he never looped.

Still Marco can’t help but sympathize that the skeleton spent so long by himself.

For all their attempts, the one to finally take down Oars is Marco. He had waited and watched and seen them give it their all but the truth is clear. They can’t quite manage.

But he can.

Still the first time in a while he’s been able to let loose, becoming far too lax this loop to have any time to fight. But Oars falls and Marco feels refreshed.

He worries as Luffy takes so much damage from Moriah and the with the arrival of Kuma he has to step in. Marco is the one to take all of Luffy’s damage instead of Zoro. He knocked both Sanji and Zoro out to do it. Kuma looks at the fallen young men and then at Marco who just smiles.

“You’ve helped raise Dragon’s son into a fine man with a good crew.”

“He did that all by himself, yoi.”

Marco awakens to the worried looks of the Straw Hat crew, all wondering what happened.

He smiles and says it was nothing as both Sanji and Zoro look at him blankly, the area covered in his blood. They can be mad at him all they want, he’d make the same choice every time.

They sail to Sabody and Marco ditches the crew at Shakky’s bar, talking with her over drinks for a bit. He’s informed that Ace and Sabo were not as careful as he had hoped, they were captured and sent to Impel Down.

“Damn those brats. I warned them.”

“It gets worse Marco-kun. Ace has been scheduled for execution.”

“Of course he has.”

Marco is still at Shakky’s when the Straw Hats and Ray return.

“Welcome back Ray-san.”

“Ah Marco! Been a while!”

It’s revealed that Marco was also on Roger’s crew along with Ray much to the shock of everyone, including Luffy.

“How was I supposed to know?!”

“I’ve told you enough stories that you should have figured it out, yoi.”

The crew has to make a run for it as they are outclassed and outnumbered by gathering Marine forces. Between Kuma, Pacificas, and the Admiral Kizaru, they stood no chance.

Marco tries to protect the crew from Kuma but fails as he too is blasted away, unable to break out of the paw bubble.

Marco is sent to the Red Force to the shock of its crew. He’s fucking furious, fighting Kaido and flying as fast as he can directly to Marineford but arrives too late.

Now not only were Ace and Luffy dead, but Sabo as well. Marco collapses in grief, dying as magma melts him.

So ends loop 10, probably the harshest yet on his poor heart.

11 and Canon at last

Marco is at a loss for what to do at the start of 11. It feels like he’s missing something and can’t quite figure out what.

He travels to the not yet destroyed island of Ohara, still known for its vast knowledge and thousands of books.

Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to find a single one on helping him. Marco had located the medical book Kureha mentioned but it listed more of what happened should he fail than succeed. Doomed to ash, it seemed was his fate.

While there, he befriends a woman named Olivia, now knowing that this woman was Robin’s mother.

They talk only a handful of times before he departs, but he warns her that Ohara was already suspected to be researching the void century and to be careful.

He flies to Roger, the man still young and not yet a pirate. Roger humors Marco as he asks questions, generally amusing as the boy, still a boy, takes a small comfort in huddling into the man’s side.

“I don’t know how to save them, yoi. Every time I try, they die worse than the last.”

“Maybe it’s not about saving them, but giving them the best chance at survival?”

“What Ray said! I know I’d give up everything to save my crew!”

Rayleigh offers that if what he’s tried so far didn’t work, maybe he could try something else. Marco thinks and there’s one crew directly involved he hasn’t tried yet. He thanks the two and promises they’ll meet again someday and flys to find a young Whitebeard.

Marco joins Whitebeard’s crew, watches as it grows from a handful of men to multiple divisions. It’s hard to call him Pops, having been enemies and only sometimes allies, but Newgate is just as stubborn as Roger in many cases and looks so proud the first time the name slips from his mouth.

He never fights against Roger and his crew, usually brushing past the bewildered pirates with a bottle split between him and Ray, even if he has to deal with the ‘you’re too young for drinking’ comments.

Marco is promoted to first mate and is stunned as that spot has always been Diamond Jozu’s position. But the crew voted and they trust him and he’s their big brother. It makes Marco feel warm.

Marco is the one to recruit Thatch, young and bright not yet with his iconic hairstyle. But his cooking is just what they need on a growing crew and Thatch thrives.

Life continues, and things come to pass just like before. Roger dies and Marco sees first hand the decline of Whitebeard. The realization time is killing his old Captain’s rival is hard, not even his flames can heal old age.

He probably enjoys the fights with Shanks crew the most because he knows what they want, a good drink and maybe a fight. As Pops and Shanks yell and clash he walks up to Benn as offers him a drink and a safe place to watch from. He’ll take every chance he gets to enjoy the company of his friends before its slips away.

It’s been years but it also passed in a blink of an eye as reports of Jinbe fighting an upcoming rookie reaches the deck of the Moby Dick. Marco lets out a breath. Ace.

Marco never saw how Pops took one look at this brat and wanted him on his crew.

Never saw how Thatch’s eyes lit up as Ace snapped back sarcastically and knew he found something fun.

Never saw how the crew slowly adopted this angry child as their own and he gradually accepted them too.

Never saw how Luffy’s first bounty poster made his whole world and how it was all torn down when one of his own division kills Thatch.

Now Marco sees how the once happy family fell, all because of one devil fruit. They only later identify it as the Dark Dark fruit, and reading the far too short description of its powers, leaves Marco wondering what other secrets it had.

So we have canon, Ace goes after Teach despite Marco’s warnings and pleas. He does and Marco can only mentally prepare himself for the worst. Shanks distracts Kaido as they head to war. It’s planned a bit differently than he’s seen it in the past, but that’s what past knowledge gets you.

He goes to war like canon and the war ends like canon. Ace and Pops are dead but Luffy escaped with the help of the up and coming supernova, Trafalgar Law.

It feels like a fever dream as Marco stands in front of the two graves of Ace and Pops, shoulder to shoulder with Shanks once again.

“I could use a drink.”

“Get me a seastone ring and I’ll give you a story too.”

Marco and Shanks drink in quiet in the Captain’s room on the Red Force. It looks nearly identical to the times when he’s been on the crew, even has his wanted poster on the wall.

“Why am I on your walls, Shanks? Trying to get me to join more than just your crew?”

“You know, I put it up when I was smashed and never felt like taking it down. Seemed to belong there.”

“You don’t say.”

They drink and drink til bottles litter the floor. Marco is the only one still going, drinking and talking about everything. Shanks slowed when the bird mentioned his multiple pasts and stopped when Marco said they had once been nakama. It was sobering and he started comforting the man when the tears got to be too much.

“I got so close Shanks. I only have one try left, yoi.”

“Sounds like you got close this time Marc… just… whatever you do next time, do what you want. Make the changes that matter to you.”

Marco waits til Shanks is asleep before taking a nearby knife and plunging it into his heart.

Triskaidekaphobia

12 and one sane life left, Marco awakens on a mission. If this is going to be his last chance… then he’s going to make sure all the people he cares about survive.

He joins Edward Newgate as the very first member of his new crew, easily calling the older man ‘Pops’ and man decides he likes the sound of that.

There’s nothing he can do for Roger, his illness incurable even to his healing blue flames (it was something he tried very early on), but before the man’s death, they drink and Marco tells him all sorts of stories about a boy named Ace and his brothers. Roger laughs till he cries.

“You know something Phoenix, if I ever had a son, he would be named Ace.”

“It’s a good name.”

“It really is.”

He’s sure Roger realizes the truth in the end, telling the Phoenix to look after him and his mother for him.

It took some planing and a lot of luck but after Roger’s execution Marco was able to lead Garp to Rouge faster than previously. It took secret letters and a few other bribes but the Marine was able to smuggle the woman off Baterilla, taking her and the baby she carried to the East Blue where she would be safe.

Marco handled the business on Ohara personally, but when Olivia failed to listen to his warnings, he knocked her out. Shoving her at Saul and Robin, the group escaped the Buster Call but were still tracked by the government for years to come.

Years later, he arrives in the North Blue just in time to save his old ward from several gunshot wounds, helping him and the crying boy to the next town over.

He sends money and a letter to Bell-mere telling her she’s worth more to her girls alive than dead.

Marco clears Tom’s name before Spandam can kill him, Cutty Flam is still presumed dead after attempting to stop the sea train.

The Phoenix sends medicine to Usopp’s mother and prevents the death of Chopper’s mentor Hiluluk.

Marco easily befriends Ace, welcoming him into the new crew. He saves Thatch from death, but for all his careful planning Teach still escapes.

With the war still on, Marco plots and toils.

Upon Shanks’ visit he has both crews agree to be close at hand incase something goes wrong, which it will and does.

Completely cuts the whole confrontation between the two captains having seen it too many times.

“None of us have time for your squabbling, not our crews or Ace, yoi.”

Hearing of the execution, Marco sends out orders to all their allies and just one more.

He calls a number he had memorized long ago. It didn’t pick up the first ring or even the second but on the third…

“Hello Dragon.”

It’s all set as Marco stands on the Moby in the middle of Marineford. He’s done all he could in planning for this.

He watches as Luffy predictable falls from the sky, challenging anyone who dare stands in his way. He watches as the Marines pull out all their tricks to stop Whitebeard. He watches and waits and there.

Ace’s true weakness that he was always too kind, Marco thought as the fire man would not let the taunt go. He stops and that’s all the chance Akainu needed. The admiral attacks but Akainu’s fist impaled not Ace but him. There was a just hiss as flames tried to heal, gasps of Ace and Luffy watched in horror.

“Run, damn brats.”

Marco falls but it’s the first time he’s satisfied. He laughs and fixes a stare at Blackbeard.

“It will never be your age.”

The Phoenix lives and dies in cycles. It brings the dawn, the coming of a new time.

Marco hopes that with his death, it will be their age, Luffy’s or Ace’s or Sabo’s. That’s what he wishes to see. Them to live, them to be free.

Broken Hourglass

Marco awakens to what he assumes with be 13, where he will slowly go mad and lose all sense of reality till he turns to ash.

Instead he’s surrounded by crying faces.

“What?”

“You big feathered idiot!” Cried Thatch rubbing at his face, attempting to hide flowing tears. “What were you thinking?!”

“Wh-“

“I think we all know he wasn’t thinking anything good.” Answered Shanks appearing with a grin just in eyesight.

Marco took the moment to get good look at all the faces surrounding him. There were his boys, Luffy, Ace, and an all grown up Sabo just as much hugging each other as they were to clutching on to his sash.

There was a tall blond man in a pink hat crying next to a much smaller boy with pink hair, a man with a spotted hat giving them awkward comforting pats on the back.

Pops was over to the side with Garp and Rayleigh, the old guard watching over them.

Marco sat up, noticing no hole in his chest and that they were no longer on Marineford. “What happened, yoi?”

“You kinda exploded. Sent Akainu flying back and the battle almost continued if it wasn’t for pinky here. We thought you were dead till the ashes came together and there you were Marc, bird form and all.”

Marco gulped looking at Shanks. “M-Marc?”

“Yeah. We all remember. Some of it? Most of it? Ehhh how did you ever keep it all straight???”

Marco laughs and laughs. Because no one died and that mattered more than anything.

Epilogue

Bell-mare remembers and sees the note and is absolutely gonna punch him when she gets the chance.

#marco the phoenix #fushicho marco #one piece #monkey d. luffy #monkey d. garp #monkey d. dragon #bellmere #donquixote rocinante #corazon #coby one piece #gol d. roger #silvers rayleigh #shanks #benn beckman #makino #edward newgate #whitebeard #thatch #portgas d. ace #portgas d. rouge #Sabo #buggy #kureha #nico olvia #marshall d. teach #trafalgar law #m3h plots #a what if that grew into this monster #I meant to have it down sooner but wanted art to go with it #i like how it turned out

[elizabethrobertajones]

14x05 watching notes

filed under: episodes that demand a written apology from the writer

Morning, I opened the episode to check it worked and the first thing on screen was dead Maggie, so I guess skip the preamble, let's get rid of that D:

Meredith is going to look after Maggie. Who so far this season has just been the human representation of the :o emoji

-

Er, she's not going to look after us, after the THEN card we abruptly drop into Dean having his beach retirement chat with Sam

A lingering reminder of how Jack would help - if he had his powers - but Sam asks "then what would we do" and cut to Dean being Michaeled. At this point I can't tell if we need to remember 13x23 for Reasons or if they just don't trust us to remember the recent history of the show at all and are catching up people who might have dropped by to see how their favourite guest star, Maggie, is doing.

-

I mean I love her but she isn't the headliner normally :P

-

OH GOODNESS SHE'S THE COLD OPEN GIRL. Maggieee no. She looks so scared. Why are they sending her hunting on her own??? She is a smol scared bean who was not prepared for the apocalypse and surely must be able to find other off-the-radar jobs for a person from another universe in this world that don't involve throwing herself at monsters!

-

She's wearing pink trousers for a stealth mission at night. She makes Sam's orange jacket look like camo

-

Also she's recording herself... Maggie... What are you doing........ hon......................

-

I have adopted her, but it turns out I have another stupid child among my many, many stupid children and just once I wish they didn't turn out like this :P

-

So she's like, attached a go pro to herself to record her hunt for... training purposes? reporting back to Chief? because she's become an adrenaline junkie after all the time she was nearly eaten by supervampires?

-

MAGGIE

Gad dangit

He was slow moving and you heard him behind you. Swing first, ask questions later, when it's a growling noise in a dark crypt.

-

Has anyone been counting the apocalypse world peeps because I'm pretty sure they're relying on us not to recognise them because they're a crowd. At this point we almost certainly have like 50+ distinct individuals instead of the 25 they purportedly rescued.

I say this because I feel like some of the white guys from the original batch appear to have metamorphosed into a more diverse group

-

Sammy setting homework.

Sorry, not Sammy. The Boss.

Dean comes in to observe class.

Sam immediately sheds all his confidence and goes back to being Sammy. He does seem to have a slight layer of scruff more, or maybe it was just that he was looking particularly clean-shaven last episode out of shock

Dean offers to get him a camp counsellor whistle, and Sam gets even more awkward about hunter check ins. I can see this feeding itself here, with Sam blustering and getting weird about his position of authority in front of Dean, and Dean who is both latching on in a brotherly way, and lashing out in a recently emotionally maimed Dean way, but can't yell at the apocalypse peeps they rescued and graciously allowed to stay because, you know, Michael destroyed their world, so taking it all out on Sam... Unfortunately, Dean being the wounded, irrational party, it's down to him to realise he's being a lil too harsh on Sam OR Sam to stop rising to the bait.

In this case, I would say the ball is firmly in Sam's court, not because he's at any particular fault for instinctively reacting like the needled little brother when big bro wanders in snarking at his attempts to do his job, but because he is the one behaving like the adult already in this scenario when he's facing the AU peeps and being The Chief in a natural way where he's thriving in the environment, and crumpling immediately in the face of this one random element is a clear part of his growth and maturity arc. As it is he's feeding Dean's reaction a LOT by getting embarrassed and changing his behaviour and not standing his ground and continuing to act like a mature adult, and giving Dean the little brother teasing opening he feeds off in the dynamic.

In other scenarios this could flip with Sam doing his best and Dean being a dick who's seeking an opening and trying to get Sam to crack and in that case it would be all on him to correct his behaviour, but in this case, I'm leaning Sam being the problem despite the appearance, because he crumpled just to hear Dean coming up the steps, never mind how it went from there. He's acting ashamed of being the leader, because he knows it's emotionally infringing on Dean territory, as he sees Dean as a natural and more rightful leader, and doesn't recognise his own strengths and skills being applied in spades here; his self-confidence immediately is put under the microscope when he knows Dean is there, and it topples his precarious house of cards of self confidence.

He has also put himself in a position of managing Dean, coming in last episode all, alright champ how's it going? and had a success by a country mile with getting Dean to leave his room, open up, and have some fun, and that's not even comparing it to the same time last season when in 13x05 he completely failed at the same task. He has been working gently on Dean to help him, but he can't when it comes to getting Dean used to having the AU peeps around and accepting Sam's new job there, if Sam acts like it's something to be ashamed of and is too horrified by usurping Dean to focus on letting his instincts talk and continuing to blatantly be a wonderful leader.

-

These AU peeps are also seeing their venerated war hero general just crumple into an insecure mess as soon as his brother walks into the room >.>

-

Sam gets coffee, turns into coffee!Sam (Lizbob's on the record favourite character in the entire show), finally snaps back at Dean about how many hunters he's keeping track of right now when Dean stops needling in a funny way and asks about Sam's health - of course, now it's all built up into Dean bothering Sam so instead of being a nice request, Sam snaps.

It's possible that while Sam now runs the hunters, delegating to Mary and AUBobby and even Dean if he'll accept it, to help keep track etc, will really benefit in the long run.

-

Slick way to work where Cas and Jack are into the same breath as where Mary and Bobby are - rugarou, which is code for off screen case - and throw it all out there as plot and ongoing character work AND the requisite where is Cas comment to keep fandom happy.

-

God, I haven't even gotten around to what I meant to say immediately that Sam dropped down into his codependency seat at the table and Dean is unintentionally mirroring 9x13's final scene of all the many times they've been around this block - off the top of my head but as someone who has been keeping a very close eye for a very long time, I can't think of another significant instance where Sam was sitting and Dean was standing while it got heated.

Of course 9x13 was working very hard to show their divisions, while of course here Sam is just sitting in his Dean Is Upsetting Me chair and Dean's not sitting at the table which just means not engaging with Sam on his level in a very literal as well as metaphorical way - in character, that's a body language dissonance as well as making Sam look up at him. In staging terms, it carries the weight of years of directorial and acting decisions about how to portray the brothers in crisis that I've been noting in case of a pattern.

-

"Yeah, but a war isn't hunting" good grief Sam is making their entire lives sound even worse than ever given they grew up in this and now he's listing off all the stuff they need from the perspective of being the Bobby. I mean, when they say they were raised like soldiers, they're adding in the fact they do zillions of almost completely unsupported 2 man raids into hostile territory with limited gear or recon. The recap at the start, showing them going in to fight the werewolves with an angel and a nephilim on their side, was an easy hunt for a reason and not just because there were 4 of them :P Without that, no matter how many hunters they accumulate, it's always looked like a losing battle because many of these things you'd want to call the national guard on if civilians could be alerted to the danger.

-

See, Dean is acting needle-y but as soon as Sam gets an unnerving alert on his phone he's concerned and asks who it is - remember last episode where he was like don't know don't care about the guy Sam was Bobbying from the car? - and when he says "maggie" ... well, they're all clearly protective of her in particular D:

-

Oh good, the body cams thing was a Sam innovation and therefore a good idea and we can pat his head for it

-

Bobby never had that and I bet he'd have LOVED to keep track of his peeps that way.

-

The other hunters meet up on the last thursday of the month to watch the highlight reel from Garth Cam, BYOB, popcorn provided

-

Nyooom

This shot should win awards for the fuckin horrifying perspective that I, as a non-mountain-dweller, can barely comprehend that it looks like the sky but then you keep on looking up and there's trees in there. Is this something people in big countries are used to? I mean I've seen my share of mountains in Scotland and they're way too cramped to fake you out like that.

You have to understand that in my town, wedged between two cliffy cliffs, the entire old town is like 500ft wide at best before more cliff. There's only 2 directions - up and towards the sea :P  You don't need fancy camera tricks to contain everything... I'm getting agoraphobia just looking at this. I mean I don't think it's intended to cause existential horror but mission accomplished.

-

Dean getting morbid talking about how having a private cemetery would be nice. I mean, they practically need one behind the Bunker after all this time, wherever the final resting place is of at least Kevin and Charlie's bodies as well as anyone else who died in and around there who wasn't dumped in the sewer like Ketch was :')

During day this place isn't half bad, with its whimsical overgrown look, the slanting fence of the bridge to cross to get there, the jungle closing in around the little plot...

But remember, Dean. Beach holiday. Eyes on the prize, man. You and the rest don't get to hang out behind the Bunker for eternity at least until you're all old and earned it.

-

Dean defends knowing what a walker from the Walking Dean is... in 12x15 he was playing with a Negan bat which I assume he still has somewhere, washed off and placed in the armoury :P Sam is at least being a bit more authoritative here in the sense of reeling off info as the Chief in charge of Maggie's fate and knowing her mission etc...

Honestly this makes me feel like the dynamic of Dean drives, Sam rides shotgun can mature too, in the sense that Dean is no longer taking control from Sam - back in season 10 that was very heavily used as part of their toxic dynamic and there's definitely shades of season 10 dynamics on the chopping block around these parts - because Sam needs all the extra time to manage his army from the road, with his hands free to check the phone and read up on everything, while Dean is free to drive and be Dean.

-

Sam being all I FAILED SHE IS DEAD at every turn and Dean being all "hey check it out, drag marks! :D" "but no blood!!! :D :D :D"

-

As a student of analaysisisign things I have no idea what was just implied by Sam and Dean being called back to the surface followed by the sound effect of spooky cold breath, a wonky focus on a statue of a bearded dude and smol cherub, and then being interrupted by a 1900s gardener.

Apron plus hat seems like Michael coding but god knows what it means.

I bet they're actually talking to a ghost but he's so busy just defending the ancestral land that he's passing as a real alive person and it's one of those completely harmless cases where the ghost just lurks around protecting the land, doesn't go vengeful, and wards off people who hang out there... Not that he had much luck with the drunk teens.

-

1900s gardener stands outside, unable to go into the house, surveying it with a weary eye.

The garden is completely and utterly overgrown, almost like no one has gardened it for 100 years, even though there appears to be a gardener on the property.

*rubs chin*

-

1900s gardener gives them one last suspicious look before wandering back to work, significantly enough that we see it with a whole separate shot

what is his deal

why is he dressed like that

-

Does Meredith feel guilty for MURDERING JOSHUA and side note, can we really trust that it was him who got murdered. Maybe he's in retirement dressed in an olde timey shirt and waving antique gardening implements at Sam and Dean for kicks.

-

Considering they improv'd the line about the HPS it's very lucky that Mobby came up with that line - I guess showing how they think alike and all

-

"Just wish you'd checked in with the main office," Sam bobs his head, like, "ME", "before you came out here..."

Yeah, here's the Sam and AUBobby leadership conflict I was hoping for :P

-

Mary asks for a mo and shepherds Sam out in particular, leaving AUBobby and Dean to handle the architect digest subscriber. She's all momsy with her handling of him, and Dean and AUBobby are left to do the awkward small talk - we know AUBobby really doesn't have it as his strong suite, even though it was Bobby's, like in 6x21 where he was the only one to ever say sorry about your mom to the guy. It also means they have to do the blathering while trying to work out any supernatural history on the property in character, while Mary and Sam are designating themselves the ones who can get to the heart of the problem and handle it like the profession adults. I like the implicit trust/respect bond that gives here.

I mean she has it with Dean too I would think but she's spent more time with Sam lately and it's important now to show she's grown such a bond with Sam, as it's been 2 whole years of her being back before they could begin to properly bond due to various issues.

-

"It was her first solo hunt and she was nervous" listen Sam and Dean are like 1000 pounds of muscle and "fuck you apocalypse" experience and they hunt together. Maggie was smol and wore pink trousers.

-

Is. Is smol.

God. I'm turning into Sam.

-

Lol conspicuous blood transfusion bags. Nice gig, to drain peeps and get a nurse to apply the blood directly to you. Is he a vampire with an olde timey set up?

-

Maggiieeee

stealing her boots is just mean.

Does she have pink plaid as well as pink trousers?

My god how did they let her out of the house? She's too cute and innocent for this world.

Or her previous world.

Can we shunt her along one more world to one which doesn't have this much monster trouble even, as she's clearly still not found the AU which suits her best.

-

Heee Dean knocking the mantelpiece and saying the house has "good bones" like he's an expert on houses

The question is, has he watched a lot of junk reality TV about house refurbishment, or is he just faking on the fly

I have not watched enough aforementioned junk TV to call this one

-

Oh, nope, the daughter validates it by saying her grandpa used to say it. Dean has watched enough TV to pass

-

Ooooh AUBobby having a go at Sam for his shoddy leadership of letting Maggie come here when she had no idea what was up.

I'm guessing the help over text messaging may have been a bit more backseat hunting from AUBobby, but he didn't try to STOP Maggie, or tell her to wait while he and Mary dashed up here.

In any case, here's the conflict of leadership I've been waiting for since before the season began :') Unfortunately, Sam shaved off his beard before going toe to toe with AUBobby, so he takes the first round by default of bristliness, as Sam ceded some portion of control back to Dean on Dean's return and this has made him weird and jumpy about acting like the chief in front of his peeps, and now AUBobby's taking the opening.

-

He has such a power stance that Bobby never had

Shoulders back, beard out

-

Dean defends Sam like when is anyone ready to hunt, because from their perspective of course they were as smol-seeming as Maggie and CONSIDERABLY younger when they were plunged into hunting. She's a grown adult! She can handle it! (she may or may not be a mirror to Jack, who is consumptive, and therefore betraying some sort of inherent unreadiness to hunt and a requirement that the smols among you be protected rather than forced to grow up too young and go hunting as a rite of passage, just as Sam and Dean were given their first beers barely in single digits by gnarly hunters)

"A real leader would have seen that a mile away" Yeah AUBobby is too used to leading his peeps - perhaps he liked a semi retirement where Sam was the leader and the world seemed safer and they could hunt like the old days...

-

Mary mediates, splitting up the team in the only way that makes sense, hoping that Dean can defend Sam in absentia (and thus be forced to confront that Sam IS a good and thoughtful leader and to stop mocking him and start defending him) and she can comfort Sam and build him back up as the Chief.

-

Dean goes on such a face journey about this whole thing, from feeling weird about AUBobby to bad about what's going on with Sam to just worried about Maggie and very much taking on that blame for sending a smol out into the field, especially as he has recused himself from responsibility to these people - while fairly taking a mental health break from the frontline as well as competing with how Sam already got there... Anyway that was like 18 distinct facial expressions each with a story and it's too early in the morning... I JUST got my cup of tea and it's still too hot to drink so Jensen's defeated me this round

-

Sam gets comforted by another trenchcoated figure

"Don't listen to Bobby" "maybe he's right" shush.

"THIS IS WHAT HE WAS BORN TO DO"

ILY Mary. She's coming in fresh on adult!Sam, she doesn't even have the feelings about him as she does to smol scared 4 year old boy Dean, especially if we account for postpartum depression making it hard for her to bond with him as per the entire metaphorical structure of the show from episode one to present. Now she's getting to spend time with him - and especially as her only significant time with him BEFORE this was 12x14 aka Bobo's ode to Sam's leadership round 1... Yeah, she sees Sam as this giant gangly admirable leader guy she happens to have birthed.

-

"Bobby can't see that... not the only thing he's been missing lately."

Good grief, Mary in the trenchcoat has been making the eyes at AUBobby all Michael-hatted up and being ignored and rebuffed from her sparkling heart eyes. I wonder what this is a metaphor for, Ms Meredith Mixtape "know who you love" Glynn.

-

Also, Mary feeling comfortable to innuendo her crush on AUBobby to Sam - it really is an adult relationship and respect and emotional trust that I feel never in a million years could just pop up between her and Dean.

Oh boy, this scene is still going.

*Hides behind the secondhand embarrassment cushion* Sam goes there, like, not going to mention it but you - he sounds less bumbling than he has at other points... Sam's awkwardness factor can shoot through the roof to the point where in 3x04 where he attacks those guys and then is like "have a nice day" when they're not demons? I kinda want to reach through the screen and strangle him with my bare hands before he does it just to spare myself seeing it. Also the gifset of that has been on my dash all week, and it predisposes me to loathe Sam's awkwardness. Please god let us get through this in one piece.

Mary is too busy being wistful to realise her son is an awkward bumbling moose who is all misplaced stammering words and wonky legs spinning for traction when he's out of his depth.

-

Aww now Mary is getting to talk about her deal... She thought she had something good going with AUBobby but since they've been back he's been "hunting all the time and won't take a break not even for a second" - the ole bury yourself in hunting to avoid facing trauma or feelings thing. Of course AUBobby may be struggling with the weight of the world he left behind, the people who he couldn't save there and not knowing what has happened to them. There's a lot to unpack with him that hasn't been explored on screen and a lot of it is casting him as behaving in a Dean-like way, while Mary is the "I'll just wait here then" to his coping mechanisms.

-

"There's something on his mind, and he doesn't want to talk about it"

Aforementioned trauma, OR a pun about him being possessed by Michael

yeah I'm harping on it as a half-joke half-kinda want to have it on the record in case I'm right :P

-

"Bobby's not open like your dad"

Mary, you do realise how that sounds to literally everyone else, right? We KNOW you're practically from a 3rd AU aka the past where John was practically the mirror AU to his future self

Unfortunately, Mary is the only person in the room who ever has that particular story, which sucks for her

-

Anyway Meredith has reached some sort of characterising level with these people that I am just in pure awe of

-

"Not like your dad when I knew him"

"Bobby's got walls. Big ones"

I do think it's funny that Mary has essentially ended up crushing on a man who is a John-like parallel to the anti-John mirror that Bobby was, who of course had his own Karen who he was a different person with, who was a Mary mirror, and .... yeah

it's an interdimensional timetravelling wife swap

-

It makes Destiel look straightforward

-

Part of Meredith's skill here is not just accounting for every angle, but also juggling this nonsense

-

Anyway Mary doubting she can get through AUBobby's walls and be the person who has to do the emotional labour to get the guy she wants - if she's ready to put herself out there again

this is NOT a conversation to have with Dean in a million years. Even Sam takes a mo

"I shouldn't be talking to you about this!" she giggles and she and Sam smile and set off again, all touchy feely.

Sweet.

-

Anyway there's another dynamic in these woods.

"You think I was too hard on your brother back there." "He's doing his best. He's doing better than his best." Funny way to phrase it but yeah, Dean can see Sam's levelled up and his new best is this new levels of responsibility and good leadership overall.

-

LOL at how terse that conversation was. Dean points out that Sam could do with a hand running things, makes fun of the beard, no offence, and cut back to Sam and Mary

-

Sam explains Karen to Mary, to give her an idea of what might be AUBobby's backstory too.

"he never had any children?" "no"

Scuse me, that's the line that makes me BAWL every time I watch it. HE DID SO, YOU FOOL. IT WAS YOU AND YOUR UNGRATEFUL BROTHER

I am writing a letter of complaint to the management

-

"Whatever your Bobby" - oh dear, AUBobby is now "your" Bobby, like, they found him first but he's now Mary's :p

Sam is now full on giving Mary relationship advice about how it's worth it to move past those walls and give him a go if she really cares about him.

-

Has he ever had this chat with Cas, or is this just practice

-

"Cas, wait, I really appreciate you came to me with this but I am getting killer deja vu for a second here..."

-

Mary finds a disturbing firepit, Dean finds a creepy hunting cabin. This is about to be a barrel of fun

-

AUBobby... Don't just run off. Poke Dean and POINT AT THE THING YOU'RE FOLLOWING

... Dean, also, have some awareness in your peripheral that AUBobby just legged it

-

Again, way more athletic than our Bobby was

-

That's a human hand

-

Are those real IDs or hunter IDs

-

Oh it all came from one wallet, with the same pic on them all, so yes.

-

"Not one of ours" but part of the wider network/family nonetheless. His bearded look recalls Asa Fox, and there's the unspoken discussion again about sharing resources, if ALL hunters shouldn't be pulled into their network and the word spread that the Bunker is at least a resource, that Sam is there to be the hub even if they aren't all part of the centralised AU hunter squad, and Sam starts Bobbying in earnest for this world as a whole.

Of course they'd never have sent Maggie somewhere that a seasoned hunter had already disappeared.

-

Dean finally realises AUBobby is gone, and immediately gets jumped, with rather less warning than Maggie had.

I like how the man has had time to dress up in a suit from his sick bed, if indeed that is the case

monsters in suits

-

Well that's new

-

Well in 13x14 Meredith wrote Gog n Magog who were a fake out full of sand... Now this monster is a fake out full of ash?

-

Cut to: Old man still in his hospital bed, definitely not attacking people in the flesh

-

Oh dear, his daughter hearing something in the house while earnestly getting on with dealing with his estate makes me pretty sure she's not in on anything and she shouted them out of the house in genuine grief-stress, which I already wasn't particularly doubting.

-

The ole dragging chains upstairs ghost trick, which I honestly wish I could say I have never heard for myself but the ghost next door is not my problem, Victorian walls keep them contained, and honestly if you've been following the saga on random incidental comments on my blog I'm really only inclined to believe in ghosts for the humorous fake hysteria of a moment's entertainment but the odd noises next door late at night really have been going on long enough and yesterday some folk moved in so, you know, first act of a horror movie setting up mere feet away from me, the disinterested neighbour scowling at all the evil poured into the walls of that house by careless landlords and human suffering I witnessed firsthand caused by it >.> Anyway. Unlike this woman I stayed right in this spot instead of wandering around trying to work out where that noise was coming from, because I'm in the house with the wacky backstory where weed dealers sawed through the support beam in the roof and the front of my room collapsed shortly after we moved in :P

-

I'm sorry, but if a ghost opens a door for you ahead of you in the hall, my advice is not to immediately go up to the door and go in

-

SUPERVAMP IN THE ATTIC

-

She does an admirable duck and cover maneouver, only to realise he hasn't chased her. Huh.

Michael's super vamps are super weird.

-

"You're not crazy" Neil the nurse immediately straightens up and eyeballs Sam a lil harder.

HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

PS where is the ghostly gardener in all this because he wasn't the supervamp so

-

this is like a murder mystery puzzle but all the bits are so utterly wild... Dead hunter, Maggie being drained for the "stroke" victim who is also attacking people in a suit while made of ash... supervamp in the attic who won't follow her out of the room she found him in

I mean in all this has no one gone back up to the attic where a supervamp is apparently just LIVING?

He's currently just chilling there while they have this conversation

he's just, like... waiting for them????

-

Dean walks in mid-crisis "You hunt monsters?!" "oh good you told them" He does like when things are all quick and easy and right to the point.

Last episode he cheerfully told Dirk that hatchetman Jordan was coming for them, while Sam blustered over telling Sam even when the EMF was SCREAMING that there was a ghost right in the room with them and the display cases were freezing over.

With Mary's influence at least, Sam is happy to get into telling the full story

-

"Wait time out, there's a dead body on our property?"

THERE IS A SUPERVAMPIRE IN YOUR ATTIC

BIGGER PROBLEMS

-

Dean is entirely brushed down... Like... He must have been brushing ghost ash off of himself all the way back to the house.

-

Sam invokes 8x08 right after I was talking about Fred. Dangit, Glynn.

I feel like Sam is sort of making a jump here, but on the other hand the house isn't under ghostly or vampiric shutdown. The father is here, unconscious, so perhaps projecting and I guess if Sam is wondering how he could be doing it, then astral projections may make sense to some degree... Working out how it all ties together is going to be another huge step though. I know the sell for this episode was partially nightmares and dreams, and we have Maggie in a djinn-like trap and the old man both a sleeping Bobby from 3x10 and also a possible Fred Jones projecting it... The supervamps are something that Dean would have brought here, and "walkers" from the Walking Dead is something the boys could have brought. Which means the other hunter could have been murdered by his own trauma... idk. Why am I trying to piece it together now?

watch the episode, lizzy

-

LOL the daughter just reeling off her dad's "workaholic with textbook narcissistic tendencies" while also herself clearly being the offspring of such a person (is the manifestation of her dad her own trauma?) and hey no doubt that description of the father might come to bear on some of the father/power figures in the episode. Definitely not what Sam is though he's among the mix - perhaps a dark warning of a guy who works himself to death like this and becomes entirely self-absorbed in the process, but Sam just took a minute to advise his mom's love life so he's hanging in there with his sense of self for now. In the sense that a dark arc doesn't seem to be looming for him in such a way as red flags literally followed pre-Mark Dean around.

-

Okay took a LOT of me yelling at the screen but they FINALLY realised there's an unresolved vampire in the attic situation and Sam's going up to check

-

Meanwhile Mary has been separated out in this cursed property to have her own side-adventure with AUBobby

-

Lol the daughter downs some anti-anxiety medication with whisky while Dean sits behind her tuning his knife in a rather grim melody. What a scene.

-

He also has his foot on an armchair like the total troll he was raised as

-

She goes off on one and Dean immediately likes her

"Thanks dad" "no love lost between you two, huh?"

T stands for terrible father

-

"I get it" "not here for a heart to heart" *pause* *launches into a John Winchester Metaphor Of The Hour rant

"But my MOM" *Dean looks up, eyes all vulnerable* "Depression runs in our family" oh booooy

So she found her mom and Dean saw his mom consumed by fire in a way that is still scarring him TO THIS DAY (re: 13x01 nightmare) and this is our first Mary parallel of even a dead mom but one with a personality, and her own problems... Not the temporary insanity of drowning her children like Constance Welch in 1x01, but a woman who had depression and a husband who wasn't there for her... In 14x01 Mary and Sam's discussion revealed how much she was doggy paddling on the surface of all the awful that's happened to her, but this is our real notable parallel to discuss a family history of depression running through Mary's side of the family, which goes not just for Dean (who, like, really has anxiety himself) but also all of Mary's issues, including in 12x21, begging Ketch to kill her at a lowest point before they got her to entirely retreat into herself.

-

Glynn still out for Dean's blood: "the most ridiculous thing is... I worshipped him when I was a kid" Dean is feeling like she took that machete and shoved it in his stomach, as she sits there swigging whiskey and telling him how he feels. "Didn't know any better. He's the only family I have left."

-

"Can I give you a little advice?......... let it go." Oh Dean :')

Emerging from his cocoon, still mostly trapped in there but I think that's a bit of a wing poking through.

"The past is -" *forcefully stops himself from saying "in the past"*

He talks about it as baggage and how every single day he tries to let it go and leave the baggage behind. God he's strong and amazing and working so hard to be the best version of himself.

-

Oh my god who builds the hall up to the attic as part of the crawlspace? This is horrifying on an unnecessary level and I'm writing into that architecture magazine to complain

-

This is the creepiest attic. Who KEEPS these horrifying mementos. Give them to a thrift shop for a hipster to buff up and turn into a conversation piece in their living room.

-

Okay, blood bags and a girl in chains (explains the clinking) are a bit weirder than average.

-

"Sam... it's here" "What?" "It's heeeere" Sam how long have you BEEN in this business?

File this under your panicky first aid to Stuart last episode

-

Sam got ashed just like Dean did. Hm.

It also looked like one of the crazed hunger vamps from apocalypse world more than one of michael's supervamps maybe? It's really hard to keep track of all these :P

-

Oh my god AUBobby has a son, who was murdered by angels. This is terrible D:

Something about the immediate moment of him wandering in... When Bobby went off earlier I was thinking of 7x11 where he saw his younger self. This approach seems almost more like 6x04 and Crowley seeing Gavin for the first time.

Anyway this is of course another way to twist AUBobby around on himself - he managed to get a son, maybe Karen wasn't murdered by a demon, maybe he had a different wife. Whatever it is, it gives us a version of Bobby totally different from ours and also in how he will relate to Sam and Dean - not as the sons he never had, but if he's thinking of young men in the fight...

-

Oh no AUBobby just got stabbed... Er... is this a nightmare or is he just dead?

-

Is AUBobby really going to -

OW

That's more impressive than breaking a crypt scene mental wall to save your loved one. Then again, original flavour Bobby once stabbed himself in the gut to save Dean so I guess he takes a lot of pain for his loved ones, and honestly gathering the strength to pull a knife out... Maaaybe nicer than putting it in???

The fact this is all going down with angel blades as well.

-

I swear to god... Meredith, don't make me watch AUBobby stab a vision of his own son to complete the loop with our Bobby stabbing Karen.

-

"I'm sorry"

*WhOMph grey ash everywhere*

Kinda takes the pure angst out of it at least :P

-

Dean gets a better look. "You're giving him a transfusion?"

Yeah, there's some fuckery at work here, sir. The nurse seems a lot less flustered answering this one which is almost as suspicious as someone who has been non-flustered suddenly getting flustered

-

Dean regrets saying "make me a sandwich before he is done asking. Which is the only reason I forgive that request :P Remember in 1x06 where he was bossing Sam's friend around to get them a beer and a sandwich so they could talk in peace about shifters? God. She KNOWS about monsters it's just that he wants to ask a sensitive question here.

Or punch the nurse in the face over the comatose form of her father.

A nod to her that it's a ruse gets her in on it, though. Female!Dean who is a different mirror than Dirk (though still messed up by a father) gets on his wavelength.

-

AAH He remembered the djinn thing!!! Dean's memory is so good and I love him and he's the best and also Meredith is riffing off 2x20 which is actually illegal, I literally have that written down here in the rules and regulations. Although it does give me my opportunity to remind us all of Dean's long speech about why does he have to be the one to save all these people to John's grave when he was thinking he had to go unwish stuff.

-

Sadly he didn't show up with a knife tipped in lamb's blood so let's see how this goes.

-

Oh my god the djinn's literally thought Dean was Michael the whole time. I have to rewatch now >.>

Well, not now, but.

-

He thought Michael was testing him, and would be back to give him an upgrade, and now he's waxing poetic about the untapped potential of djinn. We're back at season 6, with the hunter compound vs a monster army, except this time the monsters aren't a reaction to the nonsense of angels, they're the direct work of the angel stepping into the place of Eve as the experimenter, his grace vs her black goo. I suppose the weirdness out here is the djinn flexing its muscles with projecting hallucinations.

And I guess that means it hasn't affected Dean except the generic ghost of Mr Comatose over there (apologies to Cas) which I'd assume is part of the generic set up for killing hunters as it was what got Maggie too.

-

The question is, is that Maggie in the attic, or a nightmare for Sam. Wouldn't she be djinned too?

-

"Because of him - because of YOU - I can bring those nightmares into the world" well that's a weighted line >.> Dean's guilt for saying yes,  for these things done with his face. Literally bringing nightmares into the world.

Which does at least confirm that the nightmares so far have been external and we're not IN a dream which has been worrying me.

On the other hand that means AUBobby really did get stabbed that badly.

-

"I highly doubt you have a knife dipped in lamb's blood" I TOLD him.

-

you can't just kneecap the djinn

-

"I am curious, what are YOUR nightmares"

Literally pausing it because Meredith is absolutely horrible and I hate her and she keeps being mean to my boy Dean and I can't handle this and I don't want to know

(I am curious. What ARE his nightmares?)

-

Er excuse me did he just prod his way into finding Michael still in there

Because the other option is that Dean's mind is so utterly scared and scary with all he's been through he literally just out-nightmared a nightmare machine by force of personality.

-

"You don't know my family"

Keep the one liners coming

I'm easily placated by them

-

Cut to: the next morning. He offers his double a chance to get her apology from her father, and books it.

-

Nyoooom back along a CONSIDERABLY less horrifying shot of the same sort of landscape

-

Maggie's back! Everyone loves Maggie. She is the adorable mascot of these people.

Keep the cute pink bunny back at home maybe

Dean gives Sam some affirmation about being the leader of his people.

Now Sam needs to not fold immediately the next time he sees Dean seeing him do something leadery. Deal?

-

Mobby H/C

You know he's vulnerable not because he has his shirt off, but because he has his hat off.

-

These "angel wars" in the AU sound pretty formal.

You know, it would probably be PRETTY HARD to get the average American to fight a war against angels until it's way way waaay too late.

I mean, case in point: we call where they come from, "apocalypse world"

-

"Hunting" "it ends the same." "No." Mary F Winchester puts her foot down. No it ends bloody speeches on her watch! All she has is her optimism but damned if she won't use it!

"I don't know any other way to live" "Then we'll find one"

You are doing a good job and you can save all these dumb guys from themselves.

-

DEAN TALKED TO MAGGIE. HE'S HELPING. HE WENT AND LEADERED HER FOR SAM.

Now have a beer, bro

"She learned from the best, huh? :)"

":)"

-

Awww Mary comes up with AUBobby and they're taking a vacation. Let AUBobby go fishing or something. Good lil Cas parallel Mary fixing her broken warrior with a Donna cabin adventure.

...

Do you not worry a lil about what is out there? Donna comes prepared with a flamethrower.

""relaxing"" """vacation"""

-

Anyway best reason ever given on the entire show for a set of characters not to be in the next couple of episodes, second to "Cas is taking his son out to teach him to hunt some more"

-

Bobby has a clean new formal black mourning cap to deal with fresh memories of Daniel

-

Sam getting the leadership baton from a representative of Bobby who he may see more as Bobby than perhaps he ought. AUBobby says he's not sure he ever had it in him to be a leader, while our Bobby was the undisputed best at what he did and as much as he may have complained, his competency is what Sam is now emulating.

-

Mary being "allowed" to go by Dean. "if you need anything... ANYTHING..." *grabs his shoulder and shakes him* You're starting to turn into the mom in a movie who leaves the kids behind and without supervision they throw a wild party to rebel against you stifling them. SO not the dynamic, but that's the licking a thumb and pressing down a stray bit of hair type momming she's doing all of a sudden.

"Go. Be happy." :')

HUGS FOR THE BOY. That's 2 whole onscreen dean hugs this season.

-

Aww Dean talking to Garth :')

Sam and Dean in synchronicity, talking to ALL their hunter network, not just Jody plus the AU peeps

-

Though. Sam has implemented a buddy system.

Dorky camp counsellor that he is.

-

Dean should get him a ceremonial whistle for Christmas.

-

"Move on from what I - from what we - from what he did"... Dean. Buddy.

Go lie down.

That's some of the most intense blurring of self ever, between Dean's guilt, whatever made the djinn scream in horror to delve his head, and his symbolic blending with Michael as the Michaelsword...

-

"Starting to feel like myself again... almost..." shakes his head and starts heading out to go watch more movies, sad that halloween is passed so no more slashers on every channel

-

"We'll work harder" "how, you sleep 3 hours at night" "then I'll sleep 2" *Dean gives him the NO look*

Well there's a great representation of how their issues mess themselves up and they carve away their sense of self and their health for each other.

-

Seriously. What did the djinn SEE. What nightmares are in my boy's head? Oh god I'm stressed.

-

What happened to the 1900s groundskeeper, Don?

#14x05 #season 14 spoilers #my stuff

[sorayahigashikata]

Chapter 59: "None of you are free from sin."

#Paula reads SBR #Chapter 59 #HOORAY VIOLENCE #I have no idea how Johnny suddenly got this good at math #or why he waited till Valentine was gone to shoot at him #this fight isn't a favorite #LET HIM DESTROY THE CORPSE SO THE GUVMINT CAN'T GET IT #Steel Ball Run spoilers #Part 7 spoilers

[black-streak]

Saturday night's alright for fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - It's Cute

Part 9

The awaited family reactions to the cuddle fest. Dear lord, this took so long to write! Probably should have tried writing these characters once before attempting to write all of them now, but oh well. They're all a bunch of cheeky shits. Bruce may be a world class detective, but he's clueless with his family. You cannot change my mind.

Aaaaaand Tags: @poshplumcot @emjrabbitwolf @mystery-5-5 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @fandomkitty8 @dast218 @silvergold-swirl @shizukiryuu . @my-name-is-michell @kurogaya913 @elspethshadow @thecatnipmademedoit @shamefullove @ladylucina28 @crazylittlemunchkin

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

~---~

The first one to happen upon their new normal had been Dick, not that they were aware.

Around 9 in the morning, he'd found himself passing by the living room off the side kitchen the boys were allowed to use (the main kitchens off limits to all but Alfred himself, with occasional exceptions for Marinette or Jason) only to stop and backtrack, lips twitching into a wide grin.

There on the far couch, Tim lay passed out with his laptop closed on the coffee table. This in itself would be enough to endear Richard, seeing as he rarely saw Tim crash without it being face first into his work, but what really sold it was the tiny body curled up on the couch with him.

Marinette became a new normal around the manor, having been attached at the hip to their youngest around 3 months ago. Richard could still recall her first visit, half hidden behind Damian where he stood in front of her as though shielding his new friend from their sight. She'd had curious eyes trained onto them as he led her past and up towards his room. They'd all let Damian think he'd gotten her past them for the moment, bursting into speculation the second the two's footsteps fell out of hearing range.

The curiosity only grew as her presence became a near constant, Damian always a step behind or in front of her. Dick vividly remembered the suspicious look Tim had shot his coffee upon hearing the youngest call her Angel. At that point, they stopped feigning polite and sought her out. 

She took to their proding with grace, if a little overwhelmed and flustered from the fast switch in temperament. They'd all granted the two space for over a week only to all start approaching her on the near constant. And constant it was.

Richard knew he'd overwhelmed her a little in those first few weeks, but it couldn't be helped. He had never seen his babybat so protective and borderline sweet before.

Marinette turned out to be one of the most humble, affectionate, and downright considerate people Dick had the pleasure of meeting. She'd charmed them all.

From the recipes she shared with Alfred over an afternoon tea, to the little trips she took with Jason to bookstores. From random breakfast dates with Stephanie to quiet sleepovers with Cass whenever she made a reappearance. Babs and Duke had yet to meet her, but he was sure they'd find a liking to her just as easily.

Richard himself had been endeared to her the moment he saw how Damian softened around his 'Angel'. It only grew when she started coming to him, a bundle of energy, asking him if he really was versed in trapeze like Damian said. The attachment solidified upon her admitting a solid knowledge in aerial silks, afternoons between the two lost in the gym, talking through stretches and showing off to each other on their preferred apparatus.

And here it seemed Tim had finally found his endearment to her. 

It's not that the two hadn't interacted before. They were often found dying over their own caffeinated beverage of choice, lamenting to one another the struggles of running their respective business. While Tim may run WE as its CEO, he obviously respected and commended her ability to run her own technically small business, holding extremely high clientele, both local and world wide while keeping her workload contained to manageable levels. Meanwhile, she saw and admired Tim's insane ability to manage a massive sprawling company without falling over dead. 

Otherwise, you could occasionally catch them sharing playlists or texting random nonsense to one another.

That, however, seemed to be the extent of their interactions. Tim seemingly holding her at a distance for reasons undetermined.

The distance seemed pretty shattered now, Mari curled up to him, both dead to the world. Dick simply watched, smiling softly from the doorway. Finally, someone who seemed to be capable of persuading Tim into sleep. He really shouldn't be surprised that Marinette was the one to make it happen.

Lifting his phone, he snapped a picture and sent it to the family group chat with the caption, "Laying bodily on top of Tim seems an effective way to force him to sleep. Think it'd work for me?" Tucking his phone back into his pocket, satisfied with the near constant vibration from the chaos he reigned, he finally entered the kitchen, poured a bowl of cereal for himself and left before either of the occupants a room over could wake to find him.

..

Alfred had taken the sight of them cuddling in stride. It'd taken place around two weeks after seeing the evidence of such in the family chat, courtesy of Richard.

Carrying books back into the library, the elderly butler couldn't claim surprise at finding Timothy curled around Marinette in a protective huddle as the two napped. 

Ever since discovering the young woman's identity, he'd seen how Timothy watched her, intrigued and almost instinctively possessive. Of course Miss Marinette had befriended Damian first and the two were as thick as thieves, but in costume, she was Tim's shadow. She normally followed him everywhere and when she happened to stray, the young man would get restless and paranoid, no longer sensing her silent company. Eventually, he'd either group up with one of the others until he sensed her again or happen upon her handiwork and suddenly calm down. Alfred couldn't say whether Red Robin was even aware of his own actions or simply following his gut, but either way, the two were magnetized. It was only a matter of time before the same happened in civilian form.

Watching as Miss Marinette nuzzled his neck and settled closer in a deeper sleep, Alfred expected the two would be together by the end of the week.

…

Damian knew his Angel had found a body pillow in the form of his older brother. Of course he knew, she told him within hours of the development. He felt no need to confirm any further. 

This didn't mean he never saw them cuddle. No, it just meant it never took him off guard. Maybe a touch put off at times, but not surprised. One minute he'd be hunting the manor for his tiny friend and the next he'd find himself huffing to himself and begrudgingly leaving the two alone after inevitably finding her with Tim. Sure, he spent most evenings monopolizing her time to himself, but he already found himself having to share her with the rest of the flock enough during daylight hours when everyone wasn't otherwise occupied with work. The last thing he needed was for the one brother who left her mostly alone to start taking up all of her spare time. 

While Damian knew that Tim had redeeming qualities such as his diligence and intellect (his younger self was rolling in its grave at this admittance) he still couldn't grasp what it was his Angel saw there. His older brother was a certifiable disaster. A sleep deprived, caffeine addicted, sarcastic mess of a man. 

Then again, so was she. And somehow, that didn't end in a clash of personalities, but instead, led to breaking each other's more impractical habits. As much as he loathe to admit it, they worked well together and he knew it to be true everytime he stumbled upon their sleeping forms.

Leaving to find Richard after another failed attempt to collect Mari to hang out, he felt a small smile tug at the edges of his lips. Despite the confusion over the match, he took his small joys in knowing Tim kept her warm and happy.

….

Stephanie and Jason thought the picture from Dick was a once in a lifetime opportunity to view the workaholics at rest. That somehow all that coffee addled energy cancelled each other out and the two just passed out in the delirium next to each other only for Mari to become a koala in her sleep.

Imagine their utmost shock and delight when upon entering the library, bickering over something neither can remember, they find the same happy scene before them. 

A wicked grin crosses Steph's face and she sneaks closer to the couch, leaning into the space by Tim's face.

Jason, seeing her intentions, immediately rushes forward to prevent the inevitable. 

"Do you have a death wish?!" He whispered, unknowingly too late in his warning.

Marinette's eyes peek open right as Steph reaches to poke Tim awake, a low growl sounding in their ears in clear anger and annoyance, glaring Stephanie down until the blonde withdrew her finger from where it hovered an inch above his cheek. 

Eyes flying wide, Steph cautiously backed away from the pissed noirette, hands raised in surrender.

"Sorry, Mar, backing off now," Steph promised in reassurance and slight fear.

Suddenly Tim shifted, pulling Mari closer to himself as though sensing her discontent. 

Snuggling into him, she kept her eyes on the pair until she deemed them a safe distance before burrowing into his chest, falling back to sleep.

Stephanie could only stare before whipping around to whisper yell at Jason, "What the flying fuck was that?!"

"Pixie pop does not take kindly to being woken up. Learned that the hard way a while back. Imagine it's the same for waking up her personal heater there," he shrugged, carefully dragging her back out of the library. 

Glancing back at the pair, he couldn't help but shake his head. The little pixie sure had them all wrapped around her finger, didn't she?

…..

Cass…. Well she honestly didn't see how it mattered as long as the two finally got some sleep. If that meant forcing each other to nap, whether it be in the guest room of the manor or in the deserted Batcave, him slouched in the office chair and her draped across his lap, so be it.

If she played ignorant and never acknowledged to herself that Marinette definitely should not know about the cave, nevertheless be sleeping in it, no one was the wiser.

……

Bruce rarely regretted muting the family group chat. Only two hours into its creation, the notifications had reached into the hundreds. He muted it without a second thought and never looked back.

At times like these, he almost wished he checked it every once in a while. It might have prepared him better for what had transpired in front of him.

Sitting in his favorite high backed armchair by the fireplace, he'd briefly taken note of his youngest sitting in the corner of the couch, one hand holding a book in arabic up to read, the other arm wrapped around Marinette where she slept pressed against him.

He knew Damian hated being touched in his sleep, but perhaps his sweet little friend was an exception after all? It wouldn't surprise him seeing as she seemed to be the exception to all of Damian's rules. 

Bruce couldn't help the softening in his expression at seeing his son finally open up and accept the affection of another human. Sure, the kid had always been loving towards his many pets, but it was wonderfully new to see that extend to the young woman under his arm.

The first time he heard Damian call her his angel, Bruce had settled himself with the knowledge that this woman was to eventually become his daughter in law.

So absorbed in his reflecting, he almost missed Tim's entrance. 

Shaking out of it, he nodded to his second youngest and turned back to his book.

He almost became reabsorbed in his own reading when he noticed Tim approaching the opposite end of the couch.

What happened next, Bruce could only watch in dumbfounded disbelief.

Tim settled into the couch, shifting so he reclined comfortably and pulled the blanket off the back and across his body. Once he seemingly deemed the position suitably comfortable, he moved the blanket to the side of him and sat up, leaning towards the two on the opposite end. 

Damian lifted his head and made eye contact with his older brother, a silent conversation passing between the two, before moving his arm off Marinette and carefully moving her away from him and towards the other. The pass off went smoothly, her weight shifting easily from Damian's side and into Tim's waiting arms. 

From there, Tim gently moved her over to his side of the couch, laying back into his original position only now with her pressed between his side and the couch back. Lastly, Tim pulled the blanket back over the two and finally settled down. 

Marinette herself stirred awake once the blanket fell around her. She seemed to take stock of the situation, looking over to Damian and then turning to blink blearily up at Tim. A small, contented smile graced her face before it disappeared into his collar, where she buried her face, promptly falling back to sleep. 

The same sleepy smile crossed Tim's face as he ducked down to nuzzle the top of her head where he followed her lead. 

Completely thrown off guard, Bruce looked back to Damian only to see his youngest completely unfazed as he returned to his reading.

Clearing his throat softly, Bruce successfully gained the other's attention without waking the other two occupants.

"When did this become a thing?" He gestured towards the cuddling pair.

Damian simply raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"You really ought to read our messages. They've been like this for a month now." And with that, Damian went back to his reading, a smirk hidden behind the pages as his father gaped at him in disbelief. It was going to take a small miracle for his father to figure out the other two were dating at this rate.

Snapping his mouth closed and clearing his throat once more, Bruce turned back to his own book, filing the information away for later, thinking to himself, 'Perhaps Damian isn't as possessive as I thought?'

#maribat #timinette #timari #ml x dc #this one actually starts in part one and ends after part eight timeline wise