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waaayoutofline · 21 days ago

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When The Cat and The Mouse Go For a Midnight Dance (part 2)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Prompt: Vigilante!Reader x Agent!Natahsa.

Summary: Natasha finds you. Again. If you didn’t know better, you'd say she was obsessed with you. Still, you have a job to do. Will you two ever see eyes to eye?

Warnings: A bit of violence and foul language. Sexual connotations but not smut.

WORD COUNT: 2832

AN: I published it a couple weeks ago (I think?) but I couldn't put it on the master list and it was getting on my nerve soo.— Anyways, this is a part two but I dont know if I'll make a series. More like little stories here and there. Enjoy :)

The air was sharp, puncturing your lungs every time you dared to take a breath. For a second, you regret abandoning the warmth of your flat. But a job is a job, and besides, true evil never fully rests. Not your kind of evil, but the more corrupt, shameless kind. A thud was the only sound that could be heard on the terrace of none other than Wallace Ashford on a rainy night—one of the worst chief prosecutors this city could hope to have. You had your eye on him for a while now, and everything pointed to his involvement in all types of negligence concerning the underground criminal organization. Hundreds, or even thousands, of people were endangered because of his vanity.

You usually weren’t one to go after dirty politicians, but every now and then, an exception appeared. Unfortunately for Ashford, he was one. After months of tracking him, you found out that he had finally returned to the estate after a “vacation,” where only the high deities know what he was up to. He was well-guarded by a team of professionals, but that wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle after a cup or two of wine. He did, however, make you climb all the way to one of his penthouses to avoid his security systems.

Carefully, you took out the small interrupter in your pocket to check for hidden cameras or security systems. “A paranoid man, aren’t you?”

Managing to deactivate them momentarily, you pull yourself up to the banister. A soft grunt escaped you as your feet touched the ground, joints stiff from the cold and rain. Let’s just get this over with.

You made your way into the apartment—if you could even call it that. You’d seen mall floors smaller than this. High ceilings and marble floors greeted you, along with open rooms that displayed nothing but a lack of attachment, painted in neutral tones and lit by intricate chandeliers. There were no family photos or personal decor. If it weren’t for the well-maintained furniture, it would seem as though no one lived here. Despite having a wife and two unfortunate children, there was no sign of family life. Not that it could thrive here, given the fact that Wallace was nothing but a distant and neglectful husband and father, spending his days in his office, making deals with the devil and indulging in adulterous escapades.

Sighing, you finally reached what you knew to be his office, spotting his heat signature through your special lenses. Grabbing the silenced pistol holstered at your side, you carefully opened the wooden doors. A resounding click echoed through the apartment as the door opened two inches—until something screamed at your nerves. Goosebumps rose on your neck, your muscles coming to a sudden, rigid stop. After a brief moment of absolute silence, a grin spread across your face.

“Are you stalking me, Agent Romanoff?”

From the shadows, a familiar figure seemed to seep out of the darkness, revealing none other than Natasha Romanoff. She wore a tactical suit and her usual annoyed scowl, which always seemed to deepen in your presence. Her features were slightly obscured in the dim hallway light.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Do you ever take a break?” Slowly, you stepped away from the door, and she moved perfectly in sync, keeping your movements in check. Returning your gun to its holster, you smiled.

“How could I? If I did, I wouldn’t get to enjoy these lovely chats with you.” Her scowl deepened, her patience visibly fading from her green eyes. “How’d you find me this time?”

“I’m not here to answer your questions.”

A sigh escaped you. To Natasha, it sounded like that of a petulant child. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re here to detain me, blah, blah, blah…” Huffing, you crossed your arms. “I, however, have a job that needs attention. So, can we do this later?”

A shocked scoff escaped her. “You must be more insane than I gave you credit for. I’m not letting you murder that man.”

”Why not?” You whined. “If anything, I'm doing you a favor. Believe me, Wallace Ashford isn’t the type of man that you want to protect.” The atmosphere seemed to shift with your last world, and by Natasha's sudden defensive stance she noticed too. As much as you two seemed to have this unserious conversation, she knew perfectly of what you were capable of.

“That doesn’t give you the right to kill him.” She answers back.

Annoyance starts to bubble within you, the playfulness of meeting the The redhead’s patience was slowly fading away. “Well, someone has to get their hands dirty.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her body tense, bracing for the inevitable. Still, you noticed the slight hesitation in her fingertips as she reached for her gun. She stepped closer, but you didn’t move. “That’s not your call to make.”

You released a frustrated breath. “And whose is it, hm?” you taunted darkly. “I know you’ve researched him. You have to know what kind of man he is—the things he’s done and that will continue to do. People like him are the reason we get hurt, and yet you’ll continue to let him. But I’m the one who needs to be taken down?”

Natasha seemed to weigh your words carefully, taking them in. It was one of the things you secretly admired about her—the way she processed everything before rendering judgment. Something, however, told you her decision wouldn’t be in your favor. “The system isn’t perfect; it has its flaws. But killing him won’t solve anything. It won’t bring justice or comfort to the people he’s hurt. If you stand down, I promise I’ll make sure he faces the consequences he deserves.”

She stepped even closer, as though trying to soothe a rabid beast. But you weren’t one. No, your mind was cold and sharp, fully aware of what needed to be done. A soft sigh escaped your lips. “Oh, Natasha…”

You paused, standing directly in front of her, mere inches away. Her scent was clean, tinged with traces of rain and gunpowder. Her eyes dropped slightly, as though they were trying to pierce your soul. Tilting your head up defiantly, your eyes glinted under the dim light. You sighed, trailing your index finger along her jaw. Surprisingly, she let it happen, as if lost in thought.

“I never pegged you for being this naive. The system isn’t just flawed—it’s useless,” you snarled, and just like that, the aggression surged back, like an oncoming storm. “No, this corruption needs to be cut out at the root. Good thing I have a very sharp blade.”

And with that, all hell broke loose.

You fished a hidden knife from your side, expertly flipping it around to grip the handle before slashing outward. But as if expecting your every move, Natasha caught your wrist midair, using the momentum to twist your arm painfully behind your back in one swift motion. For a second, you were pinned, her breath hot against the back of your neck. But this was far from over. You brought your head down, then snapped it back with force, cracking into her face. The impact reverberated through you, and she grunted in pain, her grip loosening just enough.

You dropped low, crouching for a second before sweeping your leg around in a wide arc, sending her tumbling to the floor. Victory however only lasted a brief second before, with surprising agility, she grabbed your ankle and yanked hard, pulling you down with her. The two of you rolled across the cold marble floor, grappling for dominance, hands slipping, muscles straining. Finally, you managed to pin her, practically sitting on top of her, your hands pressing against her shoulders as you clumsily lost your balance. You could feel the rise and fall of her breath beneath you, her body tense.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you looked down at her and huffed. Of course, her damn braid stayed perfectly in place, not a strand out of order. Her eyes flickered, a shade darker now—more gray than green. Anger, you realized. A dangerous, calm fury radiated from her. Natasha Romanoff never loses her composure, a lesson you learned on the very first day of this endless game between the two of you. Blood trickled down from her now slightly crooked nose, and you couldn’t resist commenting.

“Hm. Red really does suit you,” you teased, a dark smile curling at the corners of your mouth. Her eyes narrowed.

“Do you ever shut up?” she grunted, before her legs shot up, twisting with surprising force to reverse your positions. Now, she had the advantage, her frame pinning your wrists to the floor. “You’re starting to get on my nerves.”

A breath caught in your throat as you processed what just happened. You weren’t exactly proud to admit this, but something about an enraged, furious Agent Natasha Romanoff straddling you, snarling, did something to you. Heat surged through your skin, a blush rising from your collarbone to the tips of your ears. It was ridiculous, you thought. She was literally trying to kill you.

As if reminded of the danger you were in, you tried to regain control—both mentally and physically. Concentrating, you focused on the faint stirrings of the elements around you. A slow smile curled across your lips as you found what you were looking for. “Not really,” you said, your voice thick with amusement, “but I know you secretly enjoy it.”

Natasha’s eyes flashed with a mixture of disbelief and fury, her expression hardening as she leaned closer, her voice a low growl. “Why can’t you ever just admit defeat?” Her hand pressed harder on your wrist, pinning you even more firmly to the cold floor beneath her.

You winced slightly but couldn’t resist pushing her buttons one last time. “Big talk for someone who’s about to get very, very wet.”

She frowned, clearly thrown by the comment. “What are you—” But before she could finish, you glanced upwards. She followed your gaze, and you grinned. With a faint hiss and the creaking of pipes, the sprinkler system above finally responded to your command. A perfectly controlled jet of water blasted down, drenching Natasha straight in the face.

Her reaction was immediate. “Ugh!” she sputtered, hands instinctively flying up to shield her eyes as the water poured over her, soaking her tactical suit and sending droplets flying in every direction. You seized the moment, using her split-second distraction to twist out from under her grip. With a swift movement, you rolled to your feet, slicking your hair back as you stood, watching her attempt to recover.

“Really? Using your powers now?” she grunted, trying to wipe enough water from her face to clear her vision.

“Well, it wouldn’t be fair for only you to stay dry.” You winked, hands fidgeting behind your back.

Natasha finally cleared her eyes enough to glare at you, her expression a mix of frustration and grudging resignation. “You always have to make a mess, don’t you?” she muttered, straightening up, though her tactical suit was now drenched.

“I mean, it is kind of my thing,” you said, taking a step back, turning your focus back to the reason you were here in the first place.

“Just give it up, will you? He’s no longer in the building.”

You froze mid-step, your hand just inches from the door. There were no signs of Wallace. Natasha, regaining her footing, stood tall. “He’s been evacuated while we had this sorry excuse for a fight. It’s over. You failed.”

Only the last drops of water falling from the ceiling could be heard. You stood there, unmoving. Slightly out of character for her usual calm demeanor, Natasha started to approach you. But then, a sudden, silent laugh escaped your lips, sending chills down her spine—more chilling than the cold water still pooling at your feet.

“Oh, Natasha.” You glanced over your shoulder at her, eyes gleaming with dark amusement. “Do you think I’m a fool?” A sinister smirk parted your lips. “I knew you’d pull one of these stunts because, whether you like it or not, I know you.”

You turned fully, a deadly glint in your eyes. “I also sent a friend of mine to lend a hand.”

Your hands moved behind you, reaching for the vials strapped to your back. “You’re familiar with them, actually.” You walked slowly toward her, holding up the vials so she could see them clearly. Natasha’s eyes widened in recognition. One vial contained a sleek black widow spider, its abdomen adorned with the same red emblem as her suit. The other vial was empty.

“Huh, funny. By sending him away, you didn’t just send him to his death—you might’ve put the whole extraction team in danger. What’s to stop me from giving the chemical signal for my little friend here to bite your companions?” You paused, letting the weight of your words settle in with a crazed smile. “Oh right—nothing! By now, he’s already dead, and your team’s not far behind.”

Natasha’s face paled as she reached for her intercom to contact the agents tasked with retrieving Wallace. Static greeted her. No answer.

Her blood ran cold, but she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “No,” she whispered, her voice resolute. “If there’s anything stable about you, it’s that you don’t harm innocent people.” Her confidence in her own words was surprising. On some level, she understood you. And, for once, she was right. You were a killer, but not a mindless one.

You let out a sigh. “Hmm, you’re right about that. I don’t.” With that, you pulled out another vial, this one containing a light pink liquid. “Here’s the antidote.” Before she had a chance to grab it, you pulled it back, smirking as you held it just out of her reach. This left her stepping closer, the space between you almost nonexistent. Baby hairs stuck around her face, but she still managed to look hauntingly beautiful.

“I should advise you, though: no shenanigans. I assure you, if you try to use it on Ashford, his body will violently reject it. I made sure of that.” The conflict in her eyes was so clear you could practically hear the gears turning in her head. You could see all her possible outcomes, and she knew it too.

“Your friends or a chance to detain me? The ball’s in your court, Agent Romanoff. What’s it going to be?”

She stared you down, as if trying to see right through you. “How do I know you aren’t playing me?” she challenged. “For all I know, that spider of yours never got close to my team, and this is just a way for you to get away.”

“That’s for you to decide.”

Your eyes locked once again, engaging in a silent battle of wills. Natasha’s heart raced, the weight of lives at stake heavy on her conscience, and by the glint in your eyes, she knew you understood that. She cursed herself for being so transparent, as if you could read her like an open book. Finally, her shoulders tensed, then loosened.

Unexpectedly, she grabbed the neck of your suit, yanking you toward her. Sensing no real threat, you allowed it.

“You’re going to regret this little stunt,” she warned, her voice low and dangerous. Still, you stood your ground, feeling the adrenaline course through your veins, making your words drip like honey.

“Getting under your skin, am I?” you whispered, the teasing lilt in your voice unmistakable.

Her jaw clenched, and you could see the battle raging in her mind. A part of her—how big, you couldn’t tell—was torn between wrestling you into submission or doing what she was expected to: saving the team under her command. She leaned in closer, her lips hovering just above your ear. “If you think for one second I’m going to let you win, you’re more delusional than I ever thought.”

Her warning, as sharp and assertive as it was, sent a chill down your spine. The warmth of her breath against your skin only fueled the fire coursing through you.

“If you’re lying, and anything happens to them because of this… I’ll have no compassion — no understanding left. I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth.”

You tilted your head back just enough to meet her eyes, your gaze steady and unwavering. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Now go, be the hero you are, and save your friends,” you answered softly.

For a brief moment, the air crackled with tension. She hesitated for just a heartbeat, weighing her choices. With one last, piercing look, she leapt from the railing, disappearing into the darkness. Moments later, the hum of the Quinjet rising into the air echoed in the distance. With a deep, satisfied breath, you turned away from the balcony, knowing the game was far from over.

Would it ever be? You hoped not.

#nat x reader #fanfic #mcu #natasha romanoff #avengers #marvel blurb #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #vigilante reader #shield agent natasha #marvel

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spidernuggets · 10 months ago

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heyyyy, 👋🏻

first of all, i hope you're doing well. second of all, i see you asked for requests so i decided to send one. this is actually the first time i've actually requested a story ever 🫣

anyways, i was thinking something with roommate!jason. i personally don't care if the reader knows or doesn't know about him being the red hood. don't care if you make her them (i'm a girl but i don't mind a gn!reader, why not let everyone feel included) a vigilante or a civilian. what i do care about is there being tons of mutual pining, a typical idiots in love situation iykwim 😂 and then something happens and they realize they love each other? i'd love for it to be fluffy but you can also make it as spicy as you want i won't mind 😜 i just looooooove the 'and they were roommates!!' trope.

or if you want, i'm a sucker for any sort of meet-cute scenario

love yaaa 💝

🌳 (do anons still use emojis as signatures?)

Absolutely thank you thank you 🌳anon for this request!! Notes at the end vv.

Jason Todd x Reader

"Why- WHY did it have to be a man! Why not a female- Or, or a girly pop man at the very least- That's not a girly pop man!"

You probably made the most embarrassing and awkward first impression ever when you first moved into your new apartment.

You moved into Gotham, unaware of the insane villains and masked heroes that filled the city. But you soon found out about that later.

But when you unlocked the door to your new apartment, there was a big man sitting on the couch. And your eye twitched. You gave a lopsided smile while carrying two boxes, placing them beside the door.

"Uhm. Sorry, I think I'm supposed to be your roommate," you say quietly, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Oh. Okay, do you.. need any help?" He offers, and you quickly deny.

"No- no, thanks. I'll be quick anyway," you say, picking up the two boxes. "Uhm.."

"Second door to the left," Jason says, his eyes glued to a novel, pointing towards where the empty room was as you replied with a quiet thanks.

You made three trips when bringing in all your boxes, avoiding as much communication with Jason as possible. You shut your room door and started whisper-yelling at yourself.

"Why- WHY did it have to be a man! Why not a female- Or, or a girly pop man at the very least- That's not a girly pop man!" You cried to yourself. The last roommate you had was at your old university, who was a guy, too. Let's just say he wasn't the... most hygenic person. Or the most polite. Or couldn't even bother to put a sock on the door knob before you came back from a lecture!

"The walls are real thin, by the way!" Jason shouts from outside your room. Then you stopped yourself.

That's how you created the most embarrassing and awkward first impression with Jason Todd. But the more time the two of you lived together, the less bad he seemed. Well. He never seemed bad in the first place. One day, you just explained to him your awful encounters with your last roommate, and Jason couldn't help but laugh at your experience.

So by then, you and Jason became best friends.

He told you that his job always involved him working the night shift, which never bothered you. It just reminded you to stock up on coffee and energy drinks.

But one night during his night off, the two of you were on the couch. Jason was reading "Midnight's Children," which he found in a charity shop and was ranting how someone could donate such a good book. You had your head lying on his lap, flicking through channels whole Jason commented on certain points in the book.

You stopped at the news channel, a certain red masked vigilante in action. This caught Jason's eye.

"Why are you watching the news?" He asks.

"You know, I never knew there were a bunch of heroes and villains when I moved into Gotham," you stated.

"What, really? I thought you were a crazy person when you moved here. Especially when you started complaining that I wasn't... What was it you said again? A 'girly pop man?'" Jason snickers as you smack his chest.

"Shut up! But nah, I didn't. But that Red Hood guy is making me think that moving here isn't all that bad."

Jason moves the book away from his face, looking down at you. "What do you mean?" Now he's curious. The news continues to play, showing Red Hood taking down multiple criminals on his own.

"He's hot," you say nonchalantly. Jason freezes. "Like, look, watch, watch," Red Hood blows a punch to one of the men's faces while skillfully avoiding the bullets and strikes from the others. Both your hands cover your face. "Ughhh!! He's so fineeee!!!" You groan.

Jason doesn't know how to react. There's no doubt that he's found you attractive. But he enjoyed you as a friend and didn't want to ruin what the two of you had. Unfortunately, your comment didn't help with his undying attraction towards you and shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

"Alright, move," he tries to say casually. "Need to go bathroom." You move your head off of him as he rushes towards the bathroom.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Was all that Jason was thinking as he paced around the room.

He looked into the mirror and saw his face coloured a deep red. What the fuck was happening? He mever felt like this before. He groaned, burying his face in his hands, his elbows leaning on the counter. But when he looks through his fingers, he sees a tent growing in his pants.

SHIT.

No, no, no. He can't feel this way. Fuck! He quickly turns on the shower, stripping away his clothes, suddenly feeling a lot cooler, and steps into the shower.

He made sure the water was cool, hoping to bring his libido down.

"Jay! Hurry it up in there!" You yell from the outside, still sitting on the couch. Fuck, what the hell was he supposed to do??

Fuck it.

He wrapped his hand around his length and started pumping. He tried muffling his moans, hoping the sound of water splashing against the tiled floor would cover up his sounds, too.

His hand strokes the length of his cock faster. "Fuck, Y/n. Just like that," he whispers to himself. He never felt more guilty. You were his friend, and there he was, in the shower, jerking off to the thought of you.

He let out a stifled groan as the white, sticky liquid was released all over his hand. At the same time, you came knocking at the door.

Jason's eyes widened as he quickly rinsed off, stepping out of the shower.

"Jason? You okay in there?" You ask. He opens the door, looking down at you. He doesn't think he can look at you the same way ever again.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he tries playing it cool. "Your big-ass head just gave my leg a cramp," he teases, quickly disappearing into his room as you flipped him off from behind.

When Jason enters his room, he presses a pillow against his face. He promises himself never to let that happen ever again. Well. Unless he grows a pair and actually asks you out.

The next evening, you walk through his door. You see him packing his duffle bag for his late night patrol of the city. Or as he told you: Late night security at Gotham's National Museum.

You go give Jason your daily goodnight and bye hug. You wrap your arms around his neck, his expensive cologne absolutely intoxicating you, wishing you can continue to spend the night with him.

"Don't die on me," you say to him, as per usual. Jason scoffs, telling you to stop doubting his security skills.

You never doubted Jason. But you were always worried for him. Gotham really isn't the best place to be a civilian in, especially being night security at a place with a target on its roof. The museum would be crawling with villains trying to steal precious and expensive artefacts.

You couldn't deny it. Even when you first met Jason, you found him insanely attractive. Like, who wouldn't swoon for those bulging thighs and thick arms? And you hate to admit it, but there have been some nights where Jason was out, and you took the opportunity to have some of your own... late night activities while shamefully thinking about your roommate.

But you also wondered when he was going to tell you that he was Red Hood.

You found out his little secret before Jason found out you watched the news. One night, you stumbled across Red Hood and Nightwing, taking down a bunch of goons that worked for Lex Luthor. You saw that Red Hood got shot in the shoulder. And the mext morning, you saw Jason walking around shirtless in his room. And as much as you were tranced by his abs, you noticed his bandaged shoulder.

When asked what happened, he said he crossed paths with a mugger going to the museum. You tried to brush off the theory that he could be Red Hood, but the thought always lingered in your head. He is always going out at night. And with this theory, you grew more and more worried for you best friend.

You were reading Jason's annotated book of Pride & Prejudice when strong knocks on the door made you flinch from your seat. You rushed to the door, looking through the peephole and seeing Jason with a beat-up and bloody face. You yelp, quickly opening the door.

Jason was hunched over, grabbing his side, blood still spilling from his hip. You rushed to his side, going under his arm, supporting him as you dragged him to the couch. You notice he was still in his Red Hood gear as you went to quickly find your first aid kit.

"Fuck- Jason! What happened?!" You exclaim, kneeling in front of him. "You need to take your armour off!"

He lets you peel his chest plate off while he explains that he went off to complete a mission on his own. You strip him of his compression shirt, ignoring how pretty his muscles looked and went to clean his wound.

"I'm sorry," he groans, his wound stinging from the disinfectant wipe. "I never meant for you to find out like this."

"I already knew," you say quietly. Jason looks down at you in confusion. You look like you were about to cry. "I already knew you were Red Hood. I- I wanted to tell you that I knew but.. It just seemed like a sensitive topic," you explained. "So I wanted to wait for you to tell me yourself. And.. I thought if I just mentioned or complimented Red Hood often while you were around, you'd tell me sooner." You say as you wrap the gauze around his wound.

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya," he said, avoiding your gaze.

"Well, you did! You'd go out every night, and I'd have to stay here, watch the live news to make sure you were okay!" You raise your voice. "I don't know what I would've done if I lost you.." You say more quietly.

Jason's eyes are wide, but they slowly soften, guilt ridden as his hand comes down to caress your face.

"I'm so sorry, N/n," he repeats. "I just wanted to keep you safe. You've no idea how much you mean to me." You lean into his touch, lightly smiffling as your hand ghosts over his.

"Wait," Jason speaks up. "So, did you only say Red Hood was hot so that I'd tell you I was Red Hood?" He deadpans, looking at you.

You stare back at him dumbfounded. "Is that your only concern right now??"

"Well, did you?"

You roll your eyes, getting up from your position, leaning closer to Jason's face and using the back of the couch as support. "Course I didn't," you say, staring into his eyes, your gaze flickering down to his lips.

Jason took the close proximity as an opportunity to grab your waist, bringing you down and forcing you to sit on his lap. "So you think I'm hot?"

You scoff. "You really need to get your ego checked," you say as he smiles. His large hand reaching up to the back of your neck, pulling you down to finally plant his lips against yours, his fantasies coming true.

And some of his other fantasies might just come true later on. Besides, Jason being Red Hood wasn't the only secret of his that you knew about. To be fair, he was the one who told you the walls were real thin. ;)

hmm, yeah, there wasn't as much fluff and pining as I intended.

Hopefully, this short fic doesn't let you regret your first story request for me.

Speaking of which, your first story request was for me?!??! 😱😱 I'm absolutely honoured, tysm, and i hope you've enjoyed the fic🙏🙏

Also, i'm sure a lot of anons sign off with emojis!! 🐀🐀

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dairy-farmer · 1 year ago

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As much as I love the scenario where Ra's kicked Tim out of the window and Dick couldn't catch him in time, I want to talk about Damian's cutting Tim's line. And even though I really like it when everyone is in love with Tim, for this scenario some characters can be a little heartless... Well, I hope you will enjoy it

The moment Damian cut his line, Tim was actually prepared for this type of move. He just had only thought that given how Dick's parents's death happen, this little demon would actually think about his actions. And with every person he saw talking about how far Damian has became...

It was an instant death. Tim hit his head on a ledge as he started to fall, couldn't do anything to lessen the impact

Damian didn't control the corpse. He just thought Drake would just got up and start to annoy him again. Even something happened to him, who would care? Grayson choose him over this pretender, his father didn't come back right now, Todd hate him just like himself... He did something good for everyone

The body was not found by any of the vigilantes. One of the patrolling police officers checked in when he saw a trace of excessive blood in the alley, and was greeted by Red Robin's already cold body.

The first thing Commissioner Gordon did after turning on the bat light that evening was to send his condolences to Batman. When the person in the costume did not understand what he was talking about and looked at him with blank eyes, he got angry and shouted that how Red Robin was one of the children working for this goddamn city, saying that at least a proper funeral should be held for him

Dick could feel the control of his body slipping away as soon as the words Red Robin came out of the commissioner's mouth. He had seen Tim only yesterday, his younger brother's anger at him hadn't fully subsided, but at least he was starting to stop by the cave. And Damian didn't mention any problems with the patrol last night. Everything had to be a joke. A disgusting joke that won't be laughed at later on...

He only remembered that as soon as he saw the body, which had already cooled down and his eyes were open, he started screaming. The fact that all the police officers around him left him alone, that he whispered Tim's name by holding the body of his little baby that would never grow up again, that he returned to the cave with the body in his hand was done in a completely shocked moment and that if someone asked him to tell them, he would not be able to say anything

As soon as he regained consciousness, he had contacted Barbara and asked her to check all the cameras. If anyone thought that they could rip off his baby bird's wings and get the collar off, they were very wrong. This time, no one would be able to bring back the human or monster he will kill

The scenario with the Joker would not happen again...

But everything changed when he saw the records. When Tim tries to fly without a safety net, just like his parents, and Damian, who he believes has truly changed, cuts off the only thing keeping the boy in the air...

Everything became a chaos...

Dick grabbed Damian, who had just come from school, by the throat and stuck him against the wall, spewing poison in an instant. Alfred had to give Dick a sedative to prevent it from turning into a bloodbath, which shattered Dick's last shred of trust in everyone living in the Manor

Dick took care of all the funeral procedures without Bruce returning from the time stream. He took all of Tim's belongings from the manor from his old room to take them to the house he was going to move into, went into the room with Leslie, the doctor who performed the autopsy of the lifeless body, and took it upon himself to wash Tim one last time before putting him in the coffin

When Bruce came back and learned that Tim had passed away, he was, of course, devastated for a while. But then he decided to put his feelings aside and think rationally. He didn't do Damian's education himself, he wasn't in charge of his biological son during that time and Tim didn't expect Bruce to save him when he died, so unlike what happened the previous time, this Robin's death wasn't his fault, was it?

As soon as Jason found out he was thinking about it, he shot and told him that any bat would never be able to set foot on Crime Alley again...

He made the decision to leave the family completely and continued to talk to only completely collapsed Dick, who lived in his area. He tried to make sure his older brother ate at least one meal a day, remembering when Tim told him how everyone changed after Jason's death, seeing with his own eyes, Jason believed that at least he owed it to that little boy who was trying to save everyone

Dick never stepped into vigilante life again. He was constantly hearing Tim's voice around him and was trying to get on with his life completely collapsed with sadness. Whenever he tried to do any gymnastics moves, he remembered their first encounter at the circus, looked at the old photo and believed that he was cursed as the only living person out of the six there

For Damian, I think he'll really realize what he did as he gets older. And he'll want to use the name of his older brother, who will never be older than him and who he will never really know, to honor him.

Just one night, Red Robin soared through the skies years later. As soon as Dick gets the news of this, he will shout at Damian that he has no right to this kind of thing and will not let Bruce display it in the cave like he did with the other costumes, and take it back to his own house

For the girls, every year on the day of his death, Barbara would turn off her system and watch every single image she found about Tim over and over again. After Cass tried to kill Damian, because how dare he touched his baby brother, she wouldn't set foot in Gotham again except for the cemetery visit while Steph would visit the cemetery every week to talk about anything that came to her mind

Even if the body six feet underground will never speak again...

For Lazarrus Pit, I think after the days he spent on the League Tim would have a testament about his death and how he don't want anything Ra's offer... And everyone agreed to Tim's last request even it kills Dick over and over again with knowing how he can bring his baby back but he couldn't do it without someone knowing...

Or maybe he can?..

Tim will forgive him for not doing what he wants, he loves Dick so much just like his older brother loves him too...

He can be with his baby again... No one could ever come between them again...

for damian cutting tim's line i think it's very overlooked how VERY badly things would have gone had he actually suceeded. tim's death at the hands of a comrade would make waves in more than just gotham and his direct family.

because this wasn't a rogue who killed tim. this wasn't an anti hero. this wasn't some random accident or anything like that. the person who killed tim was a comrade- robin, batman's partner who dick had vocally advocated for, who he'd repeatedly told off people for when defending him. "just give him a chance!" is what he'd say. i feel like a lot of heroes would feel exceptionally chilled because if they can't trust their own comrades to have their back then that basically destroys 90% of vigilante work because you NEED to be a team player in their line of work, you have to be able to trust and be trusted by others. even if damian realized he made a mistake seconds after he made the decision to cut tim's line- he'd be standing on the rooftp, hurt and fury overflowing in him, he's breathing hard like an animal that's out of breath and he's so angry and waiting for tim to get up so he can scream at him but tim doesn't get up. and it sinks in very quickly what has happened.

to think he would get away with it, damian would have to be VERY certain of the strength of his relationship with the family and to be honest it's not in the best place. since tim left things are tenuous, dick is still working out being 'batman' they've grown closer, damian feels like he can rely on dick and on alfred and he thinks they'll understand why he got rid of "red robin" who abandoned them when gotham went to shit, left them to pick up his slack, actively avoided and dismissed dick's attempts to contact him, and then blasted into the city acting like he was an authority and treating damian like a hostile when he hadn't been in gotham for months. damian is angry but he's sure dick and alfred will understand even if they're upset with him.

he does not expect the immediate and severe backlash. he is not ready for dick having to be sedated just to stop him from strangling damian and he's not ready for alfred to refuse to meet his eyes when they learn what he's done.

damian loses every bridge and connection he was forming following tim's death. his luck outside of gotham is ever bleaker because no one wants to be on a team, work with, or help a "cape killer". damian can also absolutely never step foot inside san francisco, both superboy and impulse have made it clear that they'll crush his skull like a tomato if he even thinks of coming close. wondergirl is the leader of the titans and can't threaten another cape like that but she makes it clear he won't be treated as friendly if he steps foot in their city.

when bruce, batman, damian's father returns he is devastated. dick, who had already started neglecting patrol and pulling away from batman duties is asked why he didn't teach damian better, why he wasn't there supervising, why he'd pair the two of them up when tim was a known trigger for damian- he's asked why and its clear that bruce blames dick more than damian. he blames dick the way an owner would be blamed when a dog bites a baby. "why weren't you there? why didn't you stop it?"

it must be the push dick needs because he drops from the vigilante life completely after that. he leaves the manor, moves into tim's abandoned 'nest' in the city and no longer speaks to them.

damian, aside from the day dick found out what he did, was never punished. he wasn't pulled aside and reprimanded, scolded, wasn't told he did something wrong. he was just...pushed to the side. looked at. looked down on. with disgust. with distrust.

it was like some twisted irony. he killed tim for not trusting him and in doing so ensured no one would ever trust him again. batman takes him out sometimes. but only when he desperatly needed a pair of hands because bruce's lack of "punishment" for damian did not go unnoticed. and it cost him a lot as well. damian grows up angry and confused and then bitter and resigned when it settles in what he's done.

he's 17, the age tim was when he died in that alley. and the realization does something to damian's brain. damian never really knew tim. they'd met in passing, fighting most of those meetings. even when they'd lived in the same house they avoided each other.

damian knows nothing about tim but he knows killing tim had ruined his life and the life he could've had. it was his fault all because he couldn't control himself. tim was right to have not trusted him. it doesn't hurt any less to know that.

damian thinks of the mantle, thinks of how people never really forgot who was wearing the robin mask, about who should've been wearing it instead of him.

red robin hasn't flown in a long time and batman doesn't pay enough attention to him to notice. but people notice when he starts going around gotham as red robin and dick shows up to the manor for the first time in years. he looks horrible. like he hasn't slept lately but he screams at damian, asks how dare he do this, how dare he wear tim's mantle after what he did.

damian thought it wouldn't hurt after years of not seeing him but it does.

so damian avoids the part of gotham dick occupies. avoids where dick shops, where he eats, where he works at the little gym for preschoolers.

damian tries to. but seeing dick again after so many years...bruce isn't a good father. or a good batman. he's not like dick. he doesn't reach out, doesn't try to understand him, reassure him, doesn't try to reason with him....he just doesn't try.

damian tries to respect the clear boundaries dick has drawn with all of them. with bruce, jason, cass, alfred, barbara. dick doesn't want to see them, talk to them. he wants to be left alone.

but...damian can't ignore that want in his heart to see his...brother again.

so he learns and he sneaks and he visits the grocery store dick shops at, the take out places he frequents, the gym he works and...damian...notices...something.

not immediatly. it's just small things. like how dick hates sausage but he'll buy fresh links from the italian butcher. how when he's on his way home he'll buy things. flowers, a single rose, fresh bread, pastries from a bakery, chocolates, he even stops by a makeup counter and buys perfume.

it's not suspicious but it is strange. but then damian notices how when he buys groceries it's in large volumes and amounts like...like he's buying for more than one.

as far as damian is aware dick is a loner now. he doesn't even talk to old titans or that alien he used to be together with.

no one has seen dick, not since he came to the manor to yell at damian.

damian has no right to snoop, no right to know more about his....brother's life.

but...he can feel that there's something off. something that's tugging at the edge of his senses as he follows dick home, making sure to tail him only through binoculars. even after years of retirement dick had been a cape longer than damian had been alive- there was no doubt in damian's mind he'd spot him or sense him.

so keeps his distance. all the way up until he reaches...the nest. tim's old apartment he was converting to a base.

damian stops in his tracks and thinks of turning back but then dick is stepping up to the front door and...something in damian just...stops.

the front door creaked open and revealed a small, slim figure greeting dick with a huge smile. dick's rough, sterm features softened and he pulled the rose he'd been hiding behind his back out and presented it to...to tim who giggled all red cheeked and happy and full of life.

damian can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. he's pretty sure he's going to throw up because....because there's no way that's tim.

tim is dead and buried in the cemetery by his mother and father. his casket is enchanted to ensure decomposition so neither ra's or anyone could reanimate him. tim hadn't wanted to be brought back to life it had been clearly outlined in his unofficial will that was just a note in his computer.

the nest was going to be tim's base. damian had seen the blueprints once, he'd seen the equipment that had been shipped there including old machinery from the cloning facility he'd used during his break from reality.

it's like a puzzle piece in damian's brain clicks into place as he realizes with dawning horror that aside from lex luthor, tim probably had the most comprehensive manual on cloning in the world. hybrids like a half human half kryptonian were exceedingly difficult but a regular old human? especially one you have plenty of dna samples for on file? (damian thought of the pints of tim's blood that had been in the medbay on ice because they all stored away blood and plasma each month in case they were ever injured enough to need it, not to mention all the hair and skin samples likely littering the nest).

tim hadn't wanted to come back, hadn't wanted to return in this way (his will had never said anything about clones).

it's unethical. it's wrong. dick shouldn't have cloned tim and he certainly shouldn't have hidden it to protect....to protect whatever was happening.

damian swears his heart skips a beat when dick pulls tim into a deep kiss. dick had never been that affectionate with tim before, he'd certainly ever kissed him so intimately. as far as damian knew, dick had thought of tim as a brother and now he was...was together with a clone of him?

damian feels distressed and agonized watching. he wants to turn. to leave. but he can't.

because everytime he blinks he sees another scene of tim alive and breathing. and it does something to damian to see his mistake undone, to see the life he'd taken alive and well.

he should leave. he should confront dick.

but damian just stands there on that roof and watches.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #dicktim

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nobodysdaydreams · 1 year ago

Text

✨My Unhinged Visions for the TMBS Kids’ Villain Arcs: ✨

Based on this poll, and this post by @kaslynspeaks and @sophieswundergarten. They activated the brain bees, and you can blame them for this.

Warning: Insanely long post. I go through each kid individually, discuss a premise for their fall to villainy, and then I give you a hastily written scene which I did not proofread, that probably contains typos and misspellings. Some are longer than others, some end abruptly, some are a lot darker than others, but they all have happy endings so you're welcome for that at least.

I also kept it vague whether I was talking about the book or show characters so while I draw on elements from both, you can imagine most of these with either character.

Please enjoy!

I'll start with Kate Wetherall.

The Premise:

I picture her as a teenager or young adult for this. Her villain arc is pretty brief tbh, but I think that fits Kate. She'd impulsive and emotional and maybe even the most likely to go dark the quickest for those reasons, but she also has strong morals, and I don't think she'd fall very far, and I also think she might be the most likely to turn around.

Here's the scenario. The society has won, and now they've started working together to take down bad guys.

Kate loves it, but she starts getting carried away sometimes. Seeing men that are willing to hurt children the way that she was hurt sets something off in her. Sometimes she takes things too far, or acts impulsively in the heat of the moment. The others protest this, insisting that Kate only needs to use enough force to stop other criminals, not harm them.

Kate feels frustrated, not only because she feels like her friends are criticizing her, but also because this is what she's good at. She's the one who fights. Why should she hold herself back when the others can use their intellect to their full potential?

The others don't realize how much of this is connected to Kate's inner turmoil, her feelings of frustration. They simply remind her that "that's not how they do things."

But maybe it should be, thinks Kate.

Maybe it would send a message. Not just to the criminals but to the children they hurt. To let those children know that someone cared to make sure that the people who hurt them paid for what they did. So that they wouldn't feel abandoned. So that they wouldn't feel how Kate always felt.

So she works in secret. She couldn't bear another condescending lecture from her father or the others. I picture her leading a sort of vigilante circus themed squad. They're all strong and athletic, obviously, but they're also incredibly creative. Whatever a bad guy's fear is, they can use illusions, contortion, and all sorts of creepy imagery to make it come to life. To make them pay for what they did. To break them, to reduce them to nothing.

And Kate as a leader finally feels respected, valuable. For once, she isn't told to hold back her impulsiveness, her emotions, her abilities, her creativity. In fact, she's praised for her lack of restraint. And she tells herself she doesn't need to feel bad either because after all, these are the bad guys. They deserve it.

But eventually the others find out. Kate tells them there's no point in another lecture, but this time, they don't lecture. They don't even know what to say.

Because they're horrified. They're horrified that Kate could ever think that punishing people like this, criminals or not, is a suitable use of her talents. Kate reminds them that they always got to use their intelligence to their full potential whenever it suited them.

And now, the scene (picture this occurring in a circus themed lair. Idk just role with it. Brain tired):

"I was the one who was too much," Kate reminded him.

"You three were the brilliant ones. The psychic, the scholar, the genius. But me? I was just the muscle. The "creative" one. The impulsive one. The liability," she scoffed.

"My talents were only useful when they were directed by my intellectual superiors. What you wanted. What you planned. But here? Here I'm a leader, Reynie. I get results and I get justice my own way. And I'm not interested in hearing another lecture about acting impulsively, or going too far, or about how all of your know so much better than I do. So save it."

"Fine!" snapped Constance. "Then we'll spare you the lecture, if you want to skip straight to the fighting."

Kate paused, and the look of betrayal in her eyes was evident.

She thought they might be here to lecture or disapprove of her methods, but had they...had they really come here to...to...

Kate shook her head.

"I don't want to fight you. And even three against one, was all know that would hardly be a fair fight."

Sticky winced and held himself back from the overwhelming urge to nervously polish his spectacles, remembering how many times he'd watched his friend take down men (grown trained men) like it was nothing.

Constance, still bitter from Kate's deception, raised her fists.

"I'd still take those odds."

"Constance-" cautioned Reynie, but it was already too late.

"Very well," said Kate.

Her followers stepped forward to assist her, but Kate motioned for them to step back.

"Trust me," she said to them. "I appreciate the offer, but I can take handle this one on my own."

The others knew that wasn't a lie.

Kate raised her own fists and addressed the trio.

"You always thought your minds made you so much better than me, so let's see how well you can actually do without me. Good luck. You'll need it. Even if I do intend to go easy on you."

"Katie-Cat?"

Kate groaned.

"This is none of your concern."

"I should say that it is," her father replied, stepping out from the shadows to confront his daughter. "Considering I raised you better than this."

"Raised me?"

Milligan immediately realized his mistake.

"Katie-Cat, I-"

"Didn't mean to leave me?" Kate snapped. "I know Dad. I know you didn't mean to. No, you just chose a dangerous job working for a dangerous man and put your own life at risk, when you knew your child had no one else but you."

The hurt in her father's eyes made Kate regret her words, but only for a moment.

After all, it's not as if what she said wasn't true.

"I'm sorry," said Milligan earnestly, realizing perhaps for the first time how much his child was still hurting.

How much she'd been lying every time she said that she was fine. How much she'd been hiding her pain from him, from everyone.

"It wasn't fair to you. I promise, I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you."

"Really?" said Kate. "Well then. I suppose there is something you can do for me."

"Anything Katie-Cat," said Milligan softly, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Stay out of my way," Kate ordered, looking her father directly in the eyes, doing her best to look tall, strong, and intimidating.

Milligan's face hardened slightly. He knew that look. It was a look he'd seen in his daughter's eyes before, her fearsome determination, her resolve not to back down.

It was normally one of the traits that he admired most about her.

"I can't do that Katie-Cat," he replied, seriously but still with a tone of affection in his voice.

"I love you too much to let you waste your talents and potential like this."

Kate laughed.

"Of course you do," she replied, gesturing for her followers to step forward.

"It looks like I might need some help after all. But try to go easy on them," she advised her followers. "Most of them aren't trained fighters and their biggest crime is shortsightedness. Hardly worth our best or most painful efforts."

"Don't fight them," interrupted Milligan. "They don't need to fight this. Just you and me."

Kate eyed him suspiciously.

"You hurt your leg last month," she reminded him. "You're not in peak fighting condition. If this is some kind of trick-"

"It isn't," replied Milligan. "You and me. If you win, we'll let you keep your operation and leave the decision up to you. If I win, you end this."

Kate's face became thoughtful, carefully considering his offer.

"Uh Milligan," interjected Sticky. "I know that you're pretty well trained, but you were just injured, most doctors wouldn't recommend-"

"Deal," said Kate, charging forward without warning, as Milligan side stepped.

It was hard to tell who had the upper hand. Milligan was stronger and had a clear height advantage, but he was still recovering from his injury and Kate was faster, and more flexible.

They held nothing back, but still neither of them succeeded in doing much damage, mostly because the skill with which they dodged the other’s attacks was just as impressive as the fighting techniques they employed.

"Tired old man?" she asked.

"Oh believe me," said Milligan. "I haven't even started yet."

They fought for hours, until at last Kate found something else that gave her the upper hand.

Environmental knowledge.

One of the circus' tricks was a series of platforms that were triggered to fall when you stood on them for a certain amount of time. They sent the performers falling to either be caught by a fellow trapeze artist or (worst case scenario) fall into one of the safety nets.

It was simply a matter of cornering her father onto one of the platforms, and removing the bridge.

"The fall is too far, and we haven't put the net out," Kate reminded him.

"You lost. Surrender."

Milligan looked down for a moment, judging the distance, then he looked back up at his daughter.

"No," he replied.

Kate was confused.

"What do you mean no?" she asked.

"I mean no," Milligan replied. "The fight's not over until it's over. I don't surrender."

"I'm not putting the bridge back," Kate reminded him. "Whatever trick this is, I'm not falling for it. Don't be stupid."

Milligan stood firm.

So did Kate. They were both stubborn. Like father, like daughter.

The seconds ticked by.

"20 seconds," Kate reminded him.

"Milligan we'll find another way!" Sticky yelled. "Just surrender, it's not worth it."

"This is my daughter," Milligan replied. "She'll always be worth it."

Kate scoffed.

"15 seconds," she announced.

Milligan didn't respond.

Kate still waited. Her father was fast. He only needed a few seconds to make it back in time, and would no doubt run out the clock.

10 seconds.

9 seconds.

8 seconds.

Kate groaned. Of course he would play it like this.

She walked over to the bridges control panel and pressed the emergency stop button.

It wasn't working.

Kate felt as if her heart had stopped.

"It's not working," she whispered.

"Kate it's your dad!" yelled Reynie. "You won! You won okay? Just press the button, put the bridge back!"

"It's not working," she yelled, the panic rising in her voice.

4 seconds.

"DAD-" she yelled, turning to her father, the father she'd missed for so long, the father she loved, the father she didn't want to lose again.

2 seconds.

"I love you Katie-Cat."

0 seconds.

The platform dropped.

And so did Milligan.

And so did Kate, diving after her father, clinging to him tightly as if that could somehow save him.

The others surrounded them as soon as they landed.

Kate was mostly undamaged, Milligan had broken her fall.

But he wasn't moving, wasn't responding.

"Dad?" Kate whispered, tears in her eyes.

"Dad I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I-please don't go. Please. I can't lose you again."

Kate reached down and hugged her father.

"You won," she whispered. "You won okay? Just please come back. I love you."

At once, Kate felt her father sit up and wrap his arms around her, wrapping her in an embrace that even she could not escape from.

"Victory," he announced, looking down at his daughter.

"And I love you too Katie-Cat. I'm sorry for the dramatics. I assumed you'd be able to put the bridge back in time, but it's always nice to have a plan B."

"What-" said Kate, who was too relieved to see her father alive and well to be upset that she had been tricked.

"But, but the fall-"

"I've fallen before," Milligan reminded her. "From greater heights than this. You get better at falling the more you practice. Just uh...don't tell Mr. Benedict. Or Number Two. Or Rhonda...perhaps it would also be wise not to mention this to Miss. Perumal."

Kate sighed.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just got tired of your criticisms."

"We didn't mean to sound critical" said Reynie. "I'm sorry you felt that way. But you were never a liability. You're our friend, and we need you."

The others nodded.

Kate sighed again and smiled.

"I need you guys too," she admitted, as her friends joined in hugging her.

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

And now for Constance Contraire.

The Premise:

I picture her being pretty young in this, but not too young, teen years at the most. The story here is that Constance succeeds in destroying the Whisperer and saving the day.

But this time, it leaves her mind damaged, seriously damaged. So damaged that her powers become uncontrollable and scary. Some government researchers offer to help Constance, but Mr. Benedict, suspicious of their intentions, turns them away. Nicholas vows to protect Constance, insists that they will figure out what's wrong, that they will help her, but then one day Constance ends up hurting him on accident, basically incapacitating and nearly killing him. At this point, there isn't much left to do, accepting outside help is the only option. The others promise to visit Constance and make sure she's taken care of and happy until Mr. Benedict recovers.

They never get the chance. Something goes wrong, and the story is that Constance is on the loose and dangerous, causing out of control destruction and physical harm. The police and government agents try to bring her in several times, but all end up hospitalized from the encounter. The society seeks Constance out, and they eventually find her hideout.

The Scene:

"Why are you here?" demanded Constance.

"What do you mean "why are we here?"" asked Kate.

"We're here to bring you home Connie girl."

Constance scoffed.

"Connie Girl."

They always acted like this. Like she was still a tiny defenseless child. Even though she was now older than the others had been when she'd first met them, they still acted as if they were her older siblings.

Or at least, they did with their words. But their body language sent an entirely different message. They stayed on the other side of the room, not daring to approach her, not daring to put their arms around her like they would have done before.

"You're afraid of me," she observed.

"Constance, we care about you!" Reynie protested.

"That doesn't mean you're not afraid."

Reynie didn't answer. There wasn't much he could say.

They'd all seen what she could do. And Reynie had never been a good liar.

"We just want to talk to you."

"We're talking now," observed Constance.

"Not here," said Kate. "Not in some secret lair or hideout where you've hidden yourself away."

"Where then?"

"Home. Your home."

For a moment, they can see it. The longing in Constance's eyes.

Home.

She quickly puts that aside.

"Right," she responds. "Home. Where the government will no doubt be waiting to take me away again."

"What? No!" Sticky exclaimed. "Constance, we would never let that happen! Mr. Benedict would never let that happen!"

Mr. Benedict.

She disregards the name and the emotions that come with it.

"And yet, it's happened before," she replied.

"You even let them take me.”

Her friends hung their heads and looked away at the reminder of their guilt, the unbearable weight that they would forever carry with them.

“They told you what I did to them. But do you have any idea what they did to me?” asked Constance.

“What they put me through? The things they made me do?"

"We thought they could help you Constance," said Reynie. "You were scared and in pain, and they offered help, and we wanted to help you. We didn't know...if we had known-"

"You would have stopped them?" asked Constance. "How? By asking nicely? And would you really have let me stay with you? After knowing what I could do to you?"

"We would have figured it out," Reynie insisted. "We're a family."

Constance laughed.

"Family? Gosh Reynard, you always were so childishly sentimental. It's a terrible weakness of yours"

Sticky and Kate briefly glared at Constance on their friend's behalf, but Reynie could hear the pain behind his little sister's insult.

He took a small step forward.

"Constance please-"

"Get away!" Constance barked, a hint of panic in her voice as she took a step backward.

"You know what will happen. Don't be stupid. Just leave. It's what's best for everyone. I'm a monster now. I'm only going to hurt you. And deep down, you all know it."

"Constance?"

The voice came from behind her. Constance didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

The others were immediately horrified. They'd told him not to come; he'd promised not to come, for his own safety.

But they should have known better. Nicholas would not be kept from his daughter.

"Dad?" Constance whispered weakly, then silently chastised herself for having spoken aloud.

She refused to turn around.

Nicholas still hobbled towards her. Constance could feel his mind. Still split, shattered from what she'd done to him, but slowly healing. And his emotions towards her...pain, lots of emotional pain, but no anger. No, there was something else, something far more powerful.

Love.

The others warned Mr. Benedict back, but he ignored their warnings. He wouldn't be deterred. His daughter needed him.

He limped over and knelt down, as best he could for an injured man so that he could address his child.

"Constance," he whispered. "Look at me please."

Constance turned away and shook her head.

"Please," her father whispered.

"I-I can't," she responded, a tiny tear rolling down her cheek as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Nicholas looked at her sadly, but affectionately, as if she was the most precious thing in the entire world.

And to him, she was.

"Oh...oh my dear Constance-"

"You should go," she ordered, pushing her father away.

"Go now. Or I'll hurt you again. I'll hurt them too," she threatened, but there was no malice behind her words. Only fear, fear that her threats might not be empty promises.

Nicholas ignored his daughter’s threats.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

He could feel her emotions in his mind. His daughter's power, too great and uncontrollable for her tiny body, made so much worse and so much stronger by what she'd been subjected to. Her power radiated from her mind, seeping outward and infecting every mind it came in contact with.

Nicholas let it come. In fact, he embraced it fully. The pain didn't matter. If that was the price he had to pay to keep his child safe and let her know that she was loved and forgiven, then that was a price he would gladly pay.

"Oh Constance," he whispered, as the tiny girl collapsed into a puddle of tears. "There's nothing you could do that would stop me from loving you."

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

Now for Sticky Washington.

This is largely inspired by @sophieswundergarten's amazing fics and posts about Sticky and his anxiety. I can't possibly link all of them, so if you're not following her and reading her fics, that's your own personal problem, and I pity you.

Sadly, I didn't write a reunion scene between him and his aunt or the Washingtons for this, because I wanted it to kind of work for the book or show versions of the character, but please know that in the full version of the fic that exists only in my brain, Sticky does reconcile with his family.

The Premise:

Sticky is older in this, an adult, maybe 20s or 30s. The story is that even after the Whisperer, after Curtain, the nightmares, the anxiety, it still haunts him. He can't get over it, but at the same time, he doesn't want to burden his friends, he can't burden them.

So he distances himself. He doesn't want to, but the voice inside him tells him that this is for the best. He would only burden them; he would only weigh them down. The others aren't sure why he's doing this, but assume it's because he wants his space and they try to respect that.

The anxiety, the fear, the flashbacks, it all gets worse. Finally, Sticky can bear it no more. So he does the unthinkable.

He builds his own version of the Whisperer. Not to control people. Just to calm his anxiety. And maybe, as the show version of Sticky says "[...] put good thoughts into people's heads. Make them feel happy." Nothing intrusive, nothing exploitive, nothing selfish. Just things like advising people to wear a seatbelt when they drive, and use dangerous equipment properly, and basically anything else that's unsafe or would make Sticky nervous. After all, what's the harm in that? He's making the world safer. And it's not like his old friends would care enough to bother with him.

But that's where he's wrong. The society detects the machine's influence, and they know it's not Curtain. They don't want to believe that it's Sticky, even when the evidence points to him. But eventually, they have no choice but to accept the truth and confront him.

The Scene:

Sticky looked up at his visitors from behind his desk. His office was nice, not extravagant or expensive, that wasn't his style, but it was neat, clean, and organized. As for Sticky himself, he was hardly the boy he was when he'd first met his friends. He was older, taller, stronger. Handsome. Confident.

Reynie told himself that he had nothing to fear. Appearances might change, but underneath it all was his friend.

"Sticky-" he began, but Sticky cut him off.

"It's Mr. Washington now," he corrected in a professional tone, trying his best not to reveal how much he'd been hurting. "Though I suppose I could allow you to call me George, for old times sake."

"Okay Mr. George," said Constance. "Having fun playing supervillain?"

Sticky frowned.

"If you came here just to criticize me, then I'll have my secretary show you out. Better her than my security," he added, glancing at Kate, who had her hand on her bucket.

"That's not why we're here," said Reynie quickly.

"Oh?" said Sticky, raising an eyebrow.

"Your family misses you," clarified Reynie, hoping to appeal to his friends' sentimentality.

"Well they have no reason to miss me. I brought them some lovely property, send plenty of checks, and cover all their medical expenses, which is all they ever wanted me for anyway," said Sticky.

"Would you ever go to visit them?" asked Reynie. "I um...I don't want to get involved in your family's personal lives. But I think they might want more than money. I think they...I think they really miss you."

And then he sees it. A sense of longing, and a yearning in Sticky's eyes.

But it vanishes almost instantly.

"I'm a busy man," Sticky reminded his friends. "I have businesses to run."

"Honest businesses?" asked Kate suspiciously.

"Yes," said Sticky, glaring at her. "You might disagree with my personal hobbies, but I assure you, I make my money fairly."

"You call brainwashing the world a hobby? Really Mr. George?" asked Constance.

Sticky sighed.

"I'm fixing the world," he lectured them. "Crime is down, addiction is down, people's rates of anxiety and depression are down-"

"Including your own no doubt," muttered Constance, but Sticky ignored her.

"-and it's all thanks to me," he finished.

Reynie looked horrified. Kate looked disgusted.

"But you're doing it without their consent!" Reynie protested. "And you don't know what the side effects could be."

"And the way you're justifying it," said Kate, "you sound exactly like-"

And then she stopped, realizing that what she was about to say would have gone too far, way too far.

But it was too late. Sticky knew what she'd been implying, and his faced morphed from a look of uncomfortable and false politeness to sudden rage.

"Like who?" Sticky snapped, and his friends jumped at the sound of his voice. It was so much louder and deeper than it had been when he was a child. It was a man's voice now, but it wasn't just the maturity or the confidence of his voice, but the anger it possessed. The harshness that had been so absent from him as a child.

Constance was the first to recover.

"You know who "Mr. George,"" she answered, glaring at her former friend.

The other two glanced at each other. What Constance was saying was cruel, especially after all that man had put Sticky through, but it was also undeniably true.

"How dare you?" whispered Sticky, the anger rising in his voice.

"How dare you compare me to him? AFTER EVERYTHING HE DID TO ME!"

Sticky rose from his desk.

His friends had never seen him look so furious.

"Sticky-" began Reynie nervously.

The others took a step backward.

Sticky's self-consciousness and compassion suddenly returned to him when he saw the fear in their eyes.

That’s the thing about anger. If you are someone who is small, short, nervous, mild mannered, someone who is perceived as “weak”, then your anger, no matter how justified, is often belittled, patronized, or dismissed as "cute", unless you can find a way to be taken seriously, to yell louder, to make yourself more threatening. Of course, the other side of this is that if you are someone who is tall, strong, loud, powerful, and intimidating, then it doesn’t take much anger to make others afraid of you, even if that’s not your intention, unless you learn to moderate your emotions and remember how threatening you look from their perspective.

For most of this life, Sticky had been on one end of this spectrum, always needing to yell louder and be more insistent to make his voice heard. Now he found himself on the other side of the spectrum. But although his height, physical appearance, and position in the world had changed, the emotion felt the same to him as it always had, and he often forgot just how frighting he could seem.

Even to those who had once called him friend.

Sticky sighed and took a deep breath.

"I'm not like him," he insisted.

"I'm not giving myself fame, money, power, or anything like that. That's the difference. When I say I'm doing this to help people, to make them feel happy, I mean it."

He looked at his friends, glancing over their faces, trying one last effort to get them to understand.

"You know me," he reminded them. "You know I wouldn't do that. I'm not doing this for power. I'm doing this for peace."

There was silence for a few moments.

"We know," said Reynie.

"We know you are Sticky. And we know you've been hurting. We should have noticed earlier, and we should have offered to help sooner. I'm sorry. But whatever your intentions are, that doesn't make this right."

Sticky didn't reply. He knew that Reynie was right; he always was.

"What do I do?" he asked, his voice suddenly sounding softer.

"Stop this," said Kate. "Turn yourself in. We'll help you, we'll- we'll get you the help you need. So you don't have to feel this way anymore."

Sticky was surprised.

His anxiety...his fears...he tried to act like it didn't bother him anymore. He didn't want to be a burden. He didn't want to drag his friends down with him.

And yet they were here, right next to him, not as adversaries, but as friends.

They didn't have to come. They didn't have to forgive him.

"You've needed help for a while," said Constance, her voice suddenly gentler and far more compassionate then even her friends were used to hearing from her.

"Haven't you George?"

Sticky didn't answer. He could feel Constance tentatively poking her way into his mind. But he didn't fight it. He sat back down and nodded silently, feeling weak and exposed, the reality of his pain revealed at last.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought I could deal with it on my own but I...I can't. I'm not- I'm not strong enough. That's why I needed to do this. I thought I could help not just me, but others, because the truth is I...I'm just not enough. I'm not strong enough."

His friends ran forward to hug him.

"You don't have to be dummy," said Constance.

"None of us are. That's why we have each other."

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

And finally, Reynie Muldoon.

Ngl, I went pretty dark for this one. He's the only one I actually gave a body count to (I know I'm sorry don't blame me blame the bees and I apologize if you think any of these are OOC I'm trying my best here. Also Reynie is older in this and there are darker themes mentioned so consider this your warning). This is based on @kaslynspeaks amazing post here and her awesome comments on my poll where she talks about the whole book conversation where Reynie can "only see snakes" so he lets himself be bitten and becomes a snake himself? Genius. 10/10. Set off the bees for sure, so thank you for that.

The Premise:

This one blends a lot of elements from the others. Like in Kate's situation, the society has won, they're fighting crime, but Reynie becomes disillusioned, though for different reasons. He's older than Kate was in her version, he's late 20s, 30s, maybe even pushing 40. It took a long time for him to get to this point.

You see, at first, Reynie is fighting for what he believes in: bringing bad guys to justice, keeping his friends on the straight and narrow, and doing what's right. But being a leader has a cost. He's always the one emotionally supporting the team, he gives more than he gets back, and that starts to take a toll. As he gets older, he encounters more bad guys, ones that make him sick to his stomach, but what's worse is the lack of people who seem to care. The politicians with empty promises, the corrupt police, the ordinary citizens who look the other way instead of helping. Nothing changes. There's always another crisis, another bad guy, another problem that needs the society, and the society needs him. So Reynie drains himself until at last he can give no more. Finally pushed to the brink by what he's seen and the sense of hopelessness and isolation he feels, he makes the decision.

He starts by cutting himself off from the society, at least professionally. They respect his decision, but are surprised by it. Once he's free of that obligation, Reynie tells his mother he's getting a new job and needs some space right now to figure himself out.

What he actually does is get involved in the criminal underworld. He tells no one of course, they'd never approve. But Reynie has learned that there is one thing that can control a snake: a bigger snake (or as the expression goes "there's always a bigger fish").

And his intelligence, knowledge of others, leadership skills, and experience with criminals quickly leads to Reynie becoming the boss of the criminal underworld (how did he do that so quickly? What is this "criminal underworld" I keep mentioning? Like. Is it a gang? The mafia? The ten men? Some random group of thieves? Idk, don't question it, just use your imagination).

Anyway, now that Reynie has control he determines what crimes happen, when they happen, and how many people get hurt. Which he views as damage control. He keeps his real occupation hidden from his mother, telling her he's involved in important government work, and it's better that she didn't ask questions. Eventually he completely cuts off ties with the rest of the society, knowing it's only a matter of time before they put together what he's done.

They do figure it out, eventually, and they're heartbroken of course. They can't believe it. Especially that Reynie, out of all of them, would ever do something so terrible. They want to confront him, but they can't find him.

Until one day they receive an anonymous coded message, tipping them off to his location.

Reynie's security team laughs when they tell them they're his friends. Their boss doesn't have any friends, and no one shows up to see him without an appointment unless they either have news that can't wait, or some kind of death wish. And he certainly never takes social calls.

Still, they let Reynie know about them. And of course he recognizes their description. Turning them away unharmed shows weakness, which his team would never accept from their leader, but Reynie doesn't want to harm his friends either.

Which gives him only one other option: to confront them. He has his security bring them to his office.

The Scene:

The men roughly shoved them into the room.

"These people came to see you boss. They said they were friends of yours."

Reynie looked up at his friends, who had just been pushed unceremoniously into his office.

"Thank you," he nodded, waving his hands to dismiss his security team.

Then he sighed.

"How did you find me?"

His friends didn't answer at first.

"That's what you want to know?" said Kate. "You're running the criminal underworld, and that's the first question you have for us? The route we used to get here?"

"Not the route. My location. How did you find me?" asked Reynie.

"Anonymous tip off. A coded message," said Constance. "Seems some of your men aren't as loyal as you thought."

Reynie looked disappointed, but shrugged.

"That's not all that uncommon in this line of work," he clarified. "Whoever it was will be dealt with accordingly. Snakes will be snakes"

"But since when are you one of them?" asked Kate.

Reynie sighed.

"I don't expect any of you to understand."

"You're right Reynie," said Sticky. "We don't understand. You were always the best of us. The one who reminded us who we were, what we stood for. How could you ever think something like this was right?"

"The best of us?" Reynie repeated disbelief.

"I was the average one, the one who wasn't special. I wasn't a genius, or a psychic, or some sort of super athlete. I was just me. I'm not special."

"So that's why you're doing this?" asked Constance. "To feel special?"

"No," said Reynie. "I'm doing this because it's inevitable. The cycle just repeats itself. We fight another bad guy, we almost fall apart, I hold us together, it takes everything out of me, I finally recover, and then we go around again. The only way to end the cycle is to become a part of it."

"Takes everything out of you?" repeated Sticky. "Reynie, we had no idea-"

"It's fine," dismissed Reynie. "Like I said, this is for the best."

"You really believe that?" asked Kate, shocked her friend could ever really think something like this was right. "You...your men...you're criminals! The worst criminals!"

"We are," agreed Reynie. "I won't deny that. But when you make yourself the king of the snakes, you decide how poisonous they are. These men follow me because they know I'm intelligent and powerful enough to let them get away with the crimes they want and have all the money and power they desire. That's a better deal than most other bosses could give them. But they also know that comes at a price, that certain things are off limits. If I hear any rumors of human trafficking or exploiting or harming children, well, then I'm sure to make an example of them. To remind them that I'm in control and that I have my standards."

"Make a example of them?" said Kate, her eyes widening.

"That...that doesn't mean what I think it means...right Reynie?" asked Sticky.

Reynie couldn't help but feel a little ashamed as he watched Constance, who had always looked up to him as her protector, her big brother, take a step away from him when she saw from his face that his words meant exactly what Sticky thought they meant.

But he didn't back down.

"They were human traffickers and people who abused children," Reynie said simply, trying his best to remain logical. "You can't say they didn't deserve it. If I wasn't running the criminal underworld, someone else would, someone who would be just as cruel, maybe worse, and would likely choose less deserving targets. It's no different than carrying out justice."

"And who made you the judge, jury and executioner?" asked Constance, crossing her arms.

"We're going to stop you," said Kate, raising her fists.

"Really?" said Reynie, his expression turning dark at his friend's declaration.

"I think you'll find that harder than you expect. You three might have been the talented ones, but I was the one who kept you together. I know you. I know how to build you up, and I know how to bring you down."

His friends looked horrified by the threat. Even worse, they looked hurt.

"I don't want it to come to that," Reynie clarified. "But it will if you stand against me. I don't want to hurt you, but trust me, I can. Worse than you can imagine. And I will. I know how it sounds, but believe me when I tell you that this is the only way."

The others were shocked by his words. Reynie cared for them; Reynie protected them.

How could he threaten them so easily? How could he have become so misguided?

Sticky thought a bit about what his friend had said, and tried one last time to reach him.

"We understand where you're coming from, really Reynie, we do," said Sticky. "But this isn't the way to do things. You're still hurting people in other ways, and I agree that people need to be brought to justice but this...this isn't the way to do it."

"We didn't know it was so hard for you," added Kate. "You were our leader Reynie. And you're right. You held us together, you kept us strong, and you were always there when we needed you. To remind us who we are. I'm sorry we didn't appreciate that more. But now it's our turn to be there for you. To remind you who you are."

Reynie didn't answer for a moment.

"And who do you think that is?"

"Our friend," said Kate.

"Some who is kind, gentle, intelligent, wonderful, and anything but average," added Sticky.

"Someone who knows deep down that this is wrong," said Constance, poking her way around the edges of Reynie's mind.

"Someone who's better than this."

Reynie couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You...you really think that?" he asked. "After everything I've done... you really think that's who I am?"

"We do," said Sticky.

"We all do," agreed Kate.

"I know it," said Constance, as Reynie felt her enter his mind, unearthing the guilt, shame, exhaustion, and pain that he'd kept buried for so long, as well as the love, compassion, and the values he'd put aside and tried to forget about.

They were still a part of him. An unused and forgotten part, but nevertheless, they were still there.

"Your friends are right Reynie."

Reynie turned to see his mother enter his office.

"Amma?" he asked in a small voice.

"But, but I don't understand- how...how did you-"

"For the leader of the criminal underworld, you have pretty bad security. They're easy enough to knock out with a few blow darts and they are much too unsuspecting of a simple old woman," his mother replied with a sad smile.

Reynie's heart dropped. She knew?

One look in her eyes told him everything. Of course she knew. She knew when he started staying out late and never telling her where he was going, when he came back with scars and a haunted look in his eyes that he couldn't explain, when he begged her for the millionth time to stop asking questions, when he moved her into a bigger fancier private house and had the property constantly surrounded by security guards because of a "promotion" that he refused to explain.

His mother was kind, but she certainly wasn't stupid.

And then Reynie realized.

"The coded message. You brought them here."

Dipika nodded.

"You needed them Reynie. You needed to be reminded of who you are."

Reynie hung his head.

"Amma-" he began, but his voice trailed off.

What could he say? What words could ever make it up to the woman who'd taken him in, who'd given everything to him? There was nothing he could say, not when she knew what he'd done, what he'd become.

"Oh Reynie," said Dipika, walking forward to hug her son, who trembled at the affection he knew he didn't deserve.

"I know," she whispered. "I know you're sorry. And I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I wasn't enough. I'm sorry I couldn't reach you. But it's not too late. I promise Reynie. It's never too late."

At last, Reynie broke down, returning his mother's embrace as the three people who refused to give up on him even when he'd given up on himself stepped forward to hug their friend.

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

I apologize for nothing, or maybe I will if enough people tell me this was disturbing and that they didn't like it, which honestly? Fair enough. Anyway, have a lovely evening! 🥰

#long post #Sorry I'm insane #Hopefully someone likes this #At the very least you have to admit a circus themed evil lair would be kinda cool #reynie muldoon #sticky washington #kate wetherall #constance contraire #tmbs #the mysterious benedict society #mysterious benedict society #mbs disney #tmbs disney #mbs villains au #tmbs villains au #mbs au #tmbs au

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the-journal-in-law · 9 months ago

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Prompt from: @creweemmaeec11

"You- you aren't going to kill me?"

"You're a rat, but an ecosystem crumbles without vermin. You still have a purpose to fulfill," Hero said shortly.

Logical and truthful; without sugarcoating.

It was different from the usual spiels about how the 'good side' could never stoop to the level of lowlifes such as Villain - as if the government hadn't done worse things in the shadows in the name of the greater good.

It was so unexpected, it made Villain stop short. A flicker of uncertainty pierced through their desperation, halting their struggle against the ropes binding them.

Hero noticed Villain's stare, and their face twisted into a scowl. "What? You think we murder people left and right?" they snapped. Like you? they meant.

Villain couldn't help it; they laughed. They laughed so hard their insides hurt, and tears leaked out of their eyes. They laughed until it was physically painful to do so.

Finally, they turned piercing eyes onto Hero. They looked young, Villain noticed. Much younger than the Agency usually let out its trainees. Apparently still innocent, and looking at the world with rose-tinted glasses. Not yet with the Agency's indoctrination carved into their bones.

Young meant easily impressionable.

Villain made themselves smile at the visibly unnerved Hero, soft and pitying, and holding back the wickedness that threatened to turn it into a smirk.

"That may seem obvious to you," they began slowly. "But many people hold the opinion that vermin are meant to be exterminated."

Hero scowled and crossed their arms. "Vigilantes are a different breed altogether. Their extreme views of how society should be can't be compared to ours."

Villain saw the opportunity immediately, and satisfaction curled in their chest like a snake. "'Ours'," they nearly purred. "I wonder if the agency thought the same as you when they dropped an airstrike on a small village of innocents last year."

"Liar," Hero countered, unfazed. "You're trying to turn me against the Agency, but it won't work. Everyone knows that was the main base of Supervillain."

At the name, grief unexpectedly caught Villain in a chokehold. They found themselves unable to speak, the poisonous words they had prepared stuck in their throat.

Hero's gaze softened. "I know you two were close. I'm sorry."

"Don't - don't you dare pity me," they spat, suddenly feeling unbalanced at the uncharacteristic display of care from a hero. Villain wasn't someone they could - should - pity. "You think you're so righteous, but you don't even know of the victims your precious Agency's actions!"

"This again?" Hero scoffed, glaring again. "Look, I know you lost Supervillain but--"

"My children." The words were ripped out of their throat, raw and bleeding. "They were - they were caught in the crossfire. 7 and 10. Not even teenagers."

A horrified silence settled between them.

Villain couldn't believe they'd lost their composure in front of a fledgling hero. "Nevermind," they said sharply, turning away. "Forget that--"

"Your children," Hero cut off, voice high and shaky. "They were with Supervillain?"

"They were home." Now that they had started, Villain couldn't stop talking. "That village - it was a safe haven for our families. The spouses and siblings and children of Supervillain's subordinates."

Hero made a strangled sound. "Supervillain was seen entering and leaving the area multiple times--"

"A coverup by the Agency. My boss deliberately avoided the area just in case it was tied to them. The day the bom - it happened, I was sent away on a mission, so Supervillain was merely checking up on my family." Tears overflowed and dripped down Villain's cheeks, thankfully unseen by the hero. "I should've--" Their breath hitched as they admitted their deepest untold regret. "I should've been there. Comforted them in their last moments."

There was a long, long silence, broken only by Villain's soft sobs and hitched breaths. It took a while for them to realise it wasn't only them crying.

Their reddened eyes shot to Hero's matching ones.

"That's horrible," Hero whispered, trembling and small and looking so much like their age it hurt.

(Villain's own children should've been able to grow up like that).

Out of the blue, Hero held out their hand, and the binds around Villain loosened before falling to the ground. Villain stared at Hero with wide eyes.

"Go," Hero said, still sniffling. But their gaze was determined. "I promise to look into this. I won't serve an organisation whose values I don't agree with."

Villain shook their head, disbelieving. "Ridiculous," they muttered.

But before they made their escape, they couldn't help but steal one last glance at the young hero.

#prompt fill #snippet #heroes and villains

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rooigseix · 2 years ago

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Next to the previous topic ‘bout Vongola Primo was a (or used to be) reckless, childish, emotional young man.

We have Cozart as the same, too.

(Just not as emotional as him, I’ll explain later. But on the craziness level, boy.)

Again, onto the very first memory of their meeting.

Let us reconfirm something before we get to this scene: The founder trio (Giotto - G - Cozart) lived in what was called “paradise of outlaws” and they didn’t know each other beforehand.

Now, just insert yourself in Cozart’s position here. Just imagine there is a stranger chasing you for god-know time and distance in a street notorious for crime or something, that is enough to make you run for your life whatever purpose your chaser claims.

(And as Cozart had a family member in this town, it had nothing to do with him being the town resident or a faraway guess visiting for a short period. You have a family member in crime street and you don't know about its reputation? Your family member also don't warn you about that reputation? Unlikely)

And let hear about their purpose: to give you back a wallet you just DROPPED AWAY AS A CHARITY. Logic thinking in that case should be: 1, they stole my wallet from Pablo or 2, they fake my wallet, now they are approaching me with god-known intention. Because let's face it, someone from the paradise of outlaws says they're gonna give you back your wallet you dropped. (Notes that at the same time, some people (for example, Paolo, the one founder trio try to help in the memory) didn't even have enough to have a meal for days. The problem of money was highlighted in this scene, make it more logically impossible for such good deed as "paying back the money I picked up accidentally") Not everyone who lives on a crime street is a criminal, but better safe than sorry. Better safe than sorry, so the logical action in this scene is to walk away. Right?

Simon Cozart, definitely a teen: no precaution whatsoever. Dunno if they are gangsters, let's stop and chat.

If Giotto was lucky Cozart was not a gang member so he could chase the redhead without any consequence of getting himself in trouble, Cozart was also lucky in this scene that Giotto and G were indeed good people and had no intention further than giving him back the wallet.

Onto the 2nd memory.

He was the first one suggesting the trio be vigilantes.

Of course, there was nothing wrong with that, no.

If we let it slide that there was a collapsed house and a dead body in front of them, Cozart himself holding two children and he still suggested yes they were gonna fight them.

I think even the stupidest person on Earth at that time must realize that this was not kid kicking and screaming in sandbox, this is life-and-death fight. And people who could kill someone for not discounting the mechandise (by 90%, what a nonsense proposal) of course would not hesitate to do the same to the one who opposed them.

There is nothing wrong with Cozart suggesting, I repeat. Treating violence by using violence is not the best way to resolve violence, but it is a resonable way that when time calls, we need to use it. Besides, when you are surrounded by a criminal and you live so goody-two-shoes, you will soon be kicked out figuratively and literally of the community you live in. It sounds ironic, but violence in the case of the Primos was a way of fitting in.

But Cozart’s suggestion is not the main point. The thing I want to mention here is his ATTITUDE when he suggested it.

He was so goddamn sure, so sure like how he thought Giotto can be a good leader at such a young age, that they were gonna fight, AND SURVIVE.

Cozart said that they would protect their people, they couldn't protect people if they died as a useless meat shield right at the very first moment they showed their face to the bad guys, right? So when Cozart said fight he meant fight AND SURVIVE.

Now let's revive the situation.

Their opponents were like, all the gang threatening their hometown. At least had enough bomb/dynamite to completely destroy a brick house. And what about the founder trio? 14, maybe around that. Aka again, kids. Yet Cozart was still so confident that yes, they would kick their ass, they could protect the people they loved, they could win against those bad bastards.

I tell you, if Vongola Primo was reckless 'cause he founded Vongola in 14, the one who gave him that idea undoubtedly must be much, more, reckless.

There is a chance, a small possibility, that Giotto already led a gang (or at least a number of people) at that time, so Cozart had the chance to witness his friend’s leadership to be so confident like that. But in that case, was it a little absurd about Cozart’s words, “Noone else will help us”, or Giotto’s helplessly fiery attitude and action of refusing to see the town being suffered? Like, Giotto’s leading a gang meant that he had his own people, his own force who would help him in need, why he had to act so helplessly and why Cozart had not to mention them? So I’m gonna stick with the founder trio, around-14, as teenagers who had absolutely nothing on their hand other than a mad and fiery stubbornness and later a flame blazing when they chose to fight against the larger gangs who abused their town.

By the way, with that attitude, there was no way Cozart (and by extension, Giotto and G too, 'cause Cozart included them) had not fought before. Be street fight or home-trained, he definitely must fight before, and a lot, to have a cornerstone to trust in their strength like that. (I may go with street-fight experience, because Cozart’s choice of weapon is a glove, close-ranged combat. Home-trained fighting in an old family should be long-ranged one like swords, right?) No information to talk about their flame, but enough hints that, talking about fighting experience, the founder trio had a handful of that before deciding to be vigilante.

Coming back to the first memory, they stopping to talk when knowing absolutely nothing about others also meant they were confident of their ability to at least defend themselves if things went bad.

The third memory. God, I absolutely have no words to tell you how speechless I am at this scene.

Because, simply conclude, Simon Cozart,

What the flying fuck was wrong with you?

He realized it! Realize it was not Giotto who wrote the letter! That the letter was fake! That there was something wrong! Then why did he still go???

I know later on he reasoned that he was worried about Giotto because he realized Vongola had a traitor. But that had nothing to do with him heading straight to the battlefield? Anyone can see a better option that Cozart could visit Vongola as a friend to check up on Giotto’s situation. Don’t blame the letter, the letter said absolutely nothing of Giotto being in that battlefield. And even if that was the case, why did Cozart have to stay so long on that damn land to the point of being injured so much like that if he thought Giotto was on the battlefield? He could just… come and quick check, right?

And if Adelheid’s story was true, (at least true on the part of Cozart bringing 50 men with him) Simon Primo had brought 50 men versus an army of 20,000 people - 400 times larger than the Simon in number, let aside power. So, choose your preference. That either Simon Cozart was a war maniac or he was suicidal, or both. No other explanation.

Finally, onto the oath, which, now we can all agree that outside the purpose of binding two families together, was a completely reckless gamble with more than 70% of going so down.

Before getting in: no, I understand Cozart’s logic of suggesting the Simon “going in the dark.” Let’s keep aside the matter of him thinking for Giotto, not pushing his dear friend into choosing between him, the Simon family, and Daemon, Giotto’s guardian. Yeah, keep that aside. First, if G and Giotto chose to punish Daemon, Vongola couldn't take it. Vongola couldn’t afford for a fight within the family itself when it was at war with numerous enemies. Second, if the enemies knew Giotto sent one of his guardians - one of his most trusted people - just to rescue a family, they definitely gonna knew that this "family" must be something special. Be Vongola Primo's weakness or just a special mystery, Vongola's enemy was definitely gonna attack the Simon too. No one wanted his family being targeted like that, especially when the whole family and even the boss himself just got out of a life-and-death situation.

So yes, "going into the dark" was the most logical way to sort things out at that time. And no one could even think Daemon could live that long, more than a century. (The oath flame was NOT born to be the trump card against Daemon. Simon stated its purpose is to prove that two families had become friends again)

So yes, I understand Cozart's way of thinking about keeping quiet pretending that they all died.

But don’t misunderstand me, what the hell was the cruel fate Cozart brought into his children’s fate?

Vindice warned. That if the oath was broken, there would be fight, and they would imprison the losers 'til the day of death. Cozart was still okay with that. Even confidently let the Vindice to "free to do what they want".

This is not even reckless anymore. This is borderline crazy. (And yes I'm looking at you too Giotto, where was your hesitation moment before?)

I would not talking about how Cozart not left a note or something to warn his children that don't fight Vongola. Maybe Daemon as Julie erased it. Or it was lost in time, more than century had gone by. Either ways, in this bet, Cozart was lucky Tsuna wanted to save Enma, or else this gonna be a complete lost.

See, Simon's Primo screen time was so little but he appeared to be complete crazy and reckless. And you know what is the scariest part? That Simon Cozart inside may be completely reckless and crazy but he appeared so calm and collected. Calm and collected, as the rule of manga drawing - round dialogue bubble 💬 usually portrays a calm, even tone, thus also an even emotion that doesn't not waver much from normal, while pointed dialogue bubble 🗯️ commonly shows a high voice, usually a scream or crying out in strong emotion like shock and anger. In eight memories, the number of times he had pointed dialogue bubbles, showing he was on high of emotion, was so few. Even when Cozart thought Daemon's men were going to kill him, this was his words and expression:

He only raised his voice in ONE sentence. Every words other than that was spoken in such fluent and calm attitude, as the bubble dialogues were round and no words was missed.

Most of his bubble dialogues were round, showing a calm demeanour, and three times he talked the most was when he reasoning - one was to found a vigilante gang, two was the above scene when he explained why he knew of the Vongola traitor, and three was when suggesting “going into the dark.” Cozart appeared to be someone reasonable and collected, that only applied when we didn't look into his actions.

Vongola Primo was fierce. He was a blazing flame. And that blazing flame had, out of total bewilderment, shouted two times at this person's face. Not to mention being drove to speechless one. That said a lot about the level of craziness and who is more reckless than who in this relationship.

One more note: Enma definitely inherited his ancestor’s risk-taker gene.

This Simon Decimo participated in two arcs. The very debut arc, he, with six people, six CHILDREN, waged a war with the top family of the mafia world. He didn't give a damn about Vindice when Vindice entered the island. Then in the next arc, he soloed 1 vs 4 trained assassins of Varia despite being, you know, kid.

This runs in the family I stand no objections.

#khr #khr analysis #khr meta #Simon Cozart #Kozato Enma #Same case with Tsuna and Giotto too #they inherited their ancestor recklessness #The apple falls nearer the tree than you think

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icereader12 · 4 months ago

Text

Since Yazz-frost asked

The most famous case of all, though was this:

Jake was a Gotham CPS worker. He'd long been appalled by the Robin training system. No one knew where Robins came from. Only that Robins were children, typically male with dark hair. They started young, and if they survived, transitioned into adult vigilantes. He'd been a teenager when Robin II had been killed, a young adult when Robin III became the next punching bag, and a fully certified social worker by the time Robin (was the new one with a sword four or five? No one could agree.) came onto the scene. Robins, everyone knew, were extraordinary strategists. They were some of the best fighters in Gotham, and probably the world. They soared off rooftops, and punched supervillains in the face on a nightly basis.

More importantly to Jake, Robins were children. Children who'd been groomed or outright forced into becoming child soldiers, happy to handle stuff that sent veteran police running away.

Most social workers didn't like it. But, what could they do? No one knew who the Bats were, and finding out would put the children at risk.

Everything changed that night the Bats had fought Riddler. Batcourt was revolutionary. In some ways, it solidified the theory that the Bats were soldiers, not family: they had an official justice system, rather than talking things out. On the other hand, it was an opportunity. Jake hadn't seen it at first, but when Ivy, then civilians began submitting cases, and those cases sometimes ruled against the Bats, he realized that he, too, could submit a case. He just needed to find a Bat in a public place.

Easier said than done. Jake spent months compiling his case. He spent nights hunting for Bats.

His lucky break came at the city hall, of all places. Two-face had attempted to use it as a staging ground for his newest plot. Black Bat came smashing through the skylight, right onto the villain. Batman and the Robins came down after her, and dispatched his goons. They were tying up the goons when Jake saw his chance.

He stepped forward and said,"I'd like to file a case in Batcourt."

All eyes turned to him. "I would like --"

"Heard you the first time", the older Robin (RR) cut him off. "Which Bat do you file against?"

"Batman." Jake stated.

"I'll judge in the case of random civilian vs Batman"

"Gotham CPS on the behalf of the Robins, vs Batman." Jake corrected.

"Oookay," RR said. His wrist computer beeped. "If I point to you, you are on the jury." He began selecting people. Once he finished, he addressed Jake, "What do you charge Batman with?"

"Making and using child soldiers. Forcing children to become Robins, child soldiers in his war against Gotham crime."

"Batman, your response?"

"I don't force my children to be heroes. I'd be delighted if none of them ever put on a cape again. They are the ones who insist on crime fighting, not me."

"Prosecutor?"

"Batman is their adult. If they want to do something unsafe, it is Batman's job to stop them. Instead, he encouraged their behavior. "

"Objection!"

RR frowned. "Granted. Prosecutor, stick to the facts."

"It was still Batman's responsibility to prevent his kids from putting themselves at risk.I don't think anyone disputes heroing is a risk."

"Defendant, your response?"

"I tried to stop them. Robin I was 9. He snuck out of the house in a spandex uniform without armor fifteen nights in a row. I caught him, and brought him back to the cave each time. One night, I stayed in to make sure him didn't go out. He got out anyway. I couldn't stop him from going out, so I got him armor and training and adult supervision. It wasn't possible to keep him in the house and still protect Gotham. So I protected him as best I could. "

"Perhaps Batman couldn't stop Robin I. But there are many other Batkids that came after him."

"They were no different. The first Batgirl wasn't mine. I couldn't ground her, nor could I tell her parent. When I first took in Robin II, I was ecstatic his idea of rebellion was reading late at night. But then Robin I accused me of passing on the Robin mantle to Hood, and suddenly rebellion was sneaking into the back of the Batmobile. He wanted to help, and wasn't about to let me stop him."

"Damn right I wasn't." Hood called. The rest of the Batkids, having heard about the trial, had all come running.

"Quiet from the audience. I will have you removed." RR barked. "Continue Batman."

"To him, Robin was magic, and it was his job to carry it. When he was murdered, I refused to have any more partners. Robin III did not give me a choice. He rang my civilian doorbell with a blackmail folder. He told me 'Batman needs a Robin's, and that was that. Spoiler sewed her own costume by hand. Her mother works nights. I did my best to get them to quit. They responded by learning the Batglare and helping each other sneak out when they were benched. I had even less control over them than I did my first Robin's. Then came Black Bat, nearly an adult by the time she joined the family. She developed her moral code on her own. Fighting was her whole life. I found her after she took a bullet protecting the Commissioner. She already had her first costume. She and Robin V were literally born for this life. Robin V's mother dropped off in the Batcave. He called me short and tried to take the Robin costume by force. Thankfully Robin III was able to stay alive in the face of that. He, too followed tradition by stealing a costume and going out alone. Signal, too, began fighting before I met him. He formed a movement and took down a supervillain plot as his introduction to our family. None of my children are in masks because I want them to be."

"I would like to hear closing statements now."

"My children, the Batkids, are all menaces, who went out in homemade costumes to fight crime, often without training or reliable backup. I tried to keep the first two at home, but they snuck out, night after night, until I could not both keep them grounded and Gotham safe. The next group of Batkids were not mine to parent, and their parents were unable or unwilling to stop them. The last few Batkids had their siblings' help to become heroes. When I could not stop them, I gave them armor, training, and supervision.

"Prosecution?"

"It is still Batman's job to keep his children safe. Armor or no armor many of them have gotten visibly life-threatening wounds on camera. Training or no training, the current Robin is ten and regularly takes on some of the most dangerous people in the most dangerous city in the world. As for supervision, where was their supervising adult when thy went to space, as many of them have boasted about. All of Batman's children have gotten serious injuries on duty. A duty that children should not be performing. "

"The jury will now deliberate." Red Robin instructed.

The jury, made up of eight civilians, two goons, Hood, and Black Bat, circled up. Jake couldn't hear what they said, but they whispered furiously for about fifteen minutes. Then they broke. A woman with dark hair and pale skin, in a black suit with a turquoise blouse, stepped forward.

"The jury finds Batman innocent," she announced.

@yazz-frost Not sure how close this is, but ...

Batcourt

Tim is sick of his family fighting, an occurrence which doesn’t always but enough times has nearly led to murder, that he devises a new method to deal with them and their petty (or serious, but usually petty) arguments: Batcourt

The first ever batcourt trial was to mediate an argument between Dick and Bruce, bc when Tim became Robin they were on the outs; Dick had moved out and was rebelling against his dad. They barely talked to each other, and when they did it was to argue.

Tim, being in the middle of all that, finally snaps and basically strong arms them into a impromptu “court session”, bc if they can’t be civil with each other in conversation they maybe they can at least be professional in this Thought Exercise.

He appoints Alfred as the unbiased jury, and then demands that both Bruce and Dick take five minutes to compile their cases against each other to present to the judge (Tim).

Both Bruce and Dick are incredibly unamused, but Tim has Alfred’s support, so they reluctantly go along with the charade. And…

It’s actually surprisingly effective.

The argument is hashed out without anyone coming to blows or a screaming match. They are all very mature about it and the argument is settled with both parties, if not happy, then mollified that they actually got to speak their parts and come to a conclusion that wasn’t unfair.

Alfred is very pleased with the results of the first batcourt trial, and give his blessing for this method to be used in the future.

And so it is. Tim is typically the Judge, as he is the mastermind behind the method and typically stays out of all arguments as much as he can, and is known to everyone to be extremely impartial when the others argue about anything. So 9 times out of 10, Tim’s judge, and uses a generating software program he developed and installed on his gauntlet (and civvy watch) to choose a jury to preside over a trial when one of the family members opens a case against someone else.

This eventually becomes just how the family resolves disputes.

If an argument comes forth and is starting to get too heated, whoever declares that they’d ‘like to submit a case to the batcourt’ is by default the prosecution, leaving the other party as defendant (these are just terms, this isn’t actually a court of law, this is just a method of resolving arguments, so both sides are heard). At this point, everyone usually turns to Tim, who appoints a jury and then tells the pros and def that they have five minute to compile and submit their evidence to the court.

It’s all very official, and the Rules of Batcourt is that everyone has to remain absolutely professional as if this were a real court case. This is to ensure nobody breaks the exercise, otherwise it won’t work.

Anyway it’s VERY effective, and is used for years in private.

Until a pair of them have an argument in the middle of an op in public and it’s getting in the way of taking out the villain…. So someone declares that they’d like to submit a case to the batcourt.

Of course any non-bat present is like “the what”

But all the bats present, being so used to using the batcourt method to hash out disagreements, automatically turn to Tim (in the insert fanfic I was daydreaming this up for, he isn’t Robin but called Shrike, but O digress).

Anyway, Tim, by habit, immediately runs the jury program and appoints Spoiler and Black Bat as jury (the argument was between Red Hood and Nightwing, with Red Hood submitting the case and therefore the prosecution).

The rogue they were fighting (let’s choose a nicer one, Riddler maybe) is so confused at this point that they kind of stop in the middle of their scheme just to watch the the fuck is going on.

The bystander civilians and any reporters are also like “???” And so basically they all get to watch the first ever public batcourt trial.

(The jury ends up voting in favor of Red Hood, so Tim declares that Nightwing is Guilty “by the power vested in my by the Batclan” and Nightwing is sentenced to Apologizing to Red Hood - since the argument started because Nightwing wouldn’t get the fuck out of RH’s way and he kept almost shooting him lmao, it just went downhill from there. Brothers amirite.)

Anyway the video goes viral immediately, the Gotham internet going insane over the concept of how the vigilantes apparently resolve their arguments.

The riddler is so fascinated by what he just witnessed that he just accepts being taken back to jail for the meantime to mull things over (I love Eddie)

Now that the bat is out of the bag (lol), so to speak, the Batclan submits cases to batcourt in public a few more times without thinking, and the public is very excited every time. Every case and verdict shows up in the next day’s paper, and it’s a Gotham Highlight. People love it.

And then it escapes containment. Because one day a rogue loudly declares that they would like to submit a case to the batcourt. Against Batman.

The present Batclan members all look at each other, and then to Tim, who is already running the jury appointment program without even thinking. It ends up choosing Riddler (who was also there) along with two civilians and a bat (Robin).

Tim blinks, then shrugs, and lets it happen.

So starts the Batcourt trial of the decade: Batman V Poison Ivy.

And Batman loses.

Ivy still goes to jail afterwards, being a criminal and all, but she does so victoriously. She has mad street cred after this. The public goes WILD.

Anyway what I am saying is that batcourt is a highly respected court of dispute in Gotham. The majority of trials are conducted between Batclan members, but there are rogues who have won (and lost) trials in batcourt, and even one very infamous instant where the GCPD submitted a case against Red Hood and subsequently lost when the mostly civilian jury declared him Innocent.

The police force having to then apologize to Red Hood made headlines so big that they broke Gotham City containment and made it into the outside world.

Which leads to the next famous batcourt case: Superman V Batman.

I have been thinking about this concept for weeks and it’s definitely going to be a running gag in all my batfam fics forever

Also we get to have this fun interaction

“Batcourt is now in session”

Batman: please don’t call it that

Tim: ahem

Batman, sighing: objection

Every single one of his kids, pointing at him like in ace attorney: overruled

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childofthewargod · 11 months ago

Text

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗

"𝙻𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛."

The character named Lorenzo belongs to a friend of mine called Eli so by all means I do not own that boy😃🙏🏽, the AU was also an idea created by my friends in a discord server so like- yeah just enjoy this and cry with me😃😃😃

A diamond is fragile and meant to be taken care of for it to not shatter into pieces that for sure, won't be repaired despite the numerous attempts one could make to make it whole again, the shattered glass pieces reflecting not only you but your actions as to what you could've done to avoid the shattering of something so valuable that was once in your hand. Love is beautiful in all its glory and could last a decade if your heart can manage to hold that long to someone dearly that its next step would be marriage, love could put color into your world like crayons put color into the coloring sheets that are given to children, but love could also hurt you if you're not careful enough.

Love can become ugly if you're not careful enough as to what the reason was that the fairytale received its bad ending as an alternative of its "usual" good ending, perhaps one has lost their devotion that was within the confines of the heart leading to the end of the once blossoming and blooming love. Conceivably the partner could've committed infidelity, possibly through unsatisfactory that was once in their heart rather than vocalizing the choice of separating ways and have the audacity to defend themselves from the sinful choice they picked. There are various reasons as to why love could fall apart which leads to a tragedy one calls a breakup if it were a relationship where the ring wasn't placed yet, a divorce if the relationship had lasted that long for it to reach the level of marriage, love can be as beautiful as a rose and love can be as ugly as a toad, it comes in different ways and shapes.

At times the adoration between two lovers wasn't meant to be.

Love could be complex depending on the title society stamped on you that will have to carry around until death embraced you in its cold arms, the relationship you'll have with that person might've been doomed from the very start if that's how some like to phrase it. In the world of heroes, villains and vigilantes, relationships are obstacles who can be used against them, whether the identity is revealed or not it will be used to weaken said enemy. It can be complex when the dotting feelings aren't towards you, it can be complex when the one you love doesn't love you. Collette knew that within Lorenzo's heart packed with egoism and arrogance it's not her that he loves, Lorenzo loves the other woman, the woman he knows he can't have.

"It's not gonna work out, Lettie," the white ranger exhaled, hands stuffed in his pockets, turning away from Collette whom was looking at the man she thought could love her, when she merely crammed her head with delusions that wouldn't come into reality. Lorenzo couldn't look her in the eye, couldn't look the woman he lied to about loving her, because he couldn't love anybody else but himself, possibly more than the woman he claims to actually love. "Lorenzo, please," Collette pleaded, her hand stretched out to get a hold of him physically. Lorenzo, however, stopped the act of affection by holding his hand up and shaking his head.

"Don't make this harder than it already is, ma, it's too late," he couldn't admit that this hurt him as much as it hurt her, his mouth couldn't speak out the right words because what even were the right words for this? What words were suitable for hurting someone, for breaking their heart because you couldn't let go of someone who you couldn't have? How could he muster the appropriate words to say "I was thinking of her, not you"? It's puzzling whether his "guilt" was true guilt or guilt for ruining his reputation that he has build during his development as the White Ranger, the Prideful White Ranger who couldn't love anyone but himself.

Lorenzo doesn't know anything but to hurt people, hurting the people he supposedly "loved", hurting the people that made an effort to love him yet he so selfishly pushed them away because "who needs love from other people when you can love yourself," the question is does he even love himself as much as he claims to? "I made the decision, I've chosen on how I want to continue my life, what path I want to choose and if I can't bring you along with me then... Then I'll accept it, even if it means leaving you in the past," his tone was as nonchalant as his body language, not caring or acknowledging the hurt he was causing to Collette, her heart aching from hearing how she'd easily be put in the past without second thoughts. Collette would look at him, blinking away the tears that were threatening to come out, having shown enough weakness through her words, through her pathetic attempts of making him stay.

"Mi Rey, please just think a bit more, think about what you're saying just think, please," the Blue Ranger pleaded pathetically with her hands holding his wrist in a grip he could easily get out of, however, he wasn't, for now. "Please, don't leave me behind just like this, not in this way, no de esta manera," she knew her attempts were weak, that they weren't enough to reach his heart, to go through the barrier built of egoism surrounding it. "We weren't meant to be, Collette, thought that was obvious," the dry chuckle would deepen the cracks in Collette her heart, the unfazed look showing how little this mattered to him, it all stung. It stung when he'd twist his wrist to escape the grasp Collette held it with, the deadpan look staying on his face like the scars on her heart.

"Everything is temporary, this was merely one of those things," Collette her breath hitched upon hearing those words, her eyes glossy from the heavy impact of those words, her chest twisting in a sickening way for it to ache. She swallowed the lump in her throat and attempted to keep her voice settled, keeping her breathing settled, "how can you say something like that?" was all she could muster weakly, the hurt not allowing her to say what her heart truly wants to say. She couldn't scream, she couldn't cry, no not yet, Collette couldn't do anything because she doesn't know what to even do at a time like this.

Lorenzo clicked his tongue and looked over his shoulder with what one can assume hesitation, at the same time, however, there wasn't much of a change to his facial expression, not a change of heart though. He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as though this moment wasn't to be taken serious, that the hurt he had brought the heart of the Blue Ranger, the Slothful Blue Ranger who, despite her role, was meant to be the sloth of the team yet she put the best of efforts in what she thought was their relationship. "I guess we just-" he would sigh, pocketing his hands while thinking of how to put his words as "gentle" as he could, but he's never been gentle therefore his words weren't either.

"I guess we just weren't meant to be, I don't see- I don't see a future with you."

The audacity as to when he'd say to "not take it personal", that she'll "get over it" just as everyone else does, their ideals don't match, don't click like two Lego bricks and their paths were splitting instead of merging because they weren't meant to be, that all of this was inevitable so there was no reason to be down about it, for it was never meant to be. Collette's tears would eventually fall like the waterfalls in forests, streaming down her cheeks like the rivers. Collette her voice was strained, her throat forbidding from saying anything else, not allowing her to let this hurt more than it already does, perhaps it was best to not continue speaking for this to not completely destroy her from the inside as though not as much as her heart whom was scattered around the ground in pieces that wouldn't be picked up by neither him nor her, they'll remain broken until someone sweeps them away with a broom representing the numbness Collette will find herself in one day.

"Why would you waste this for a woman you know you can't have because of the role you represent?"

"Why are you willing to leave me behind as if I never mattered to you?"

"Why would you hurt me this way?"

She couldn't ask these questions out loud, not when he's already walked away with the last words being;

"You had seen this coming eventually, Lettie,"

Daring to keep the nickname that was given to her in his mouth, daring to use it as his goodbye to break her more than he already has at the moment with the "right choice of words" when- really, they were words from his pride, not from the heart nor brain, no...

His pride.

She wouldn't understand, Collette would never understand even if she'd like to try. He's had her in his mind, in his heart, he's had her longer, in his head, but couldn't have her in his arms because that's what pride represents, what it does to you. It won't allow you to do anything that'll show weakness, that'll make you look vulnerable to people because you're supposed to be better than everyone around you, stronger, smarter. But she would understand, she would understand it all clearly if this had simply been spoken in a different way, if this had been talked about the way it should've, that won't be the case anymore, however.

Because in the end, it was all done for one person.

The other woman.

The other woman he couldn't have.

#angst #i cried when making this #oc x oc angst #Sobbing #Gonna cry myself to sleep

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batimagines · 2 years ago

Text

￤a𝗹𝗹 go𝗼𝗱 bo𝘆𝘀 g𝗼 t𝗼 hea𝘃𝗲𝗻 ꜜ

↬ dick grayson x reader

↬ warnings: betrayal quotes and curse words

↬ words: 2k

↬ sorry for any mistakes english isn't my language, but i tried. and if you can, let me know what you think.

❝ 'cause I know it's true, they say:

all good boys go to heaven but

bad boys bring heaven to you... ❞

-— heaven, julia michaels

Dick Grayson was an amazing boyfriend and that no one could deny.

You are an old friend from high school. The two were best friends and studied in the same class until their third year. Maybe he doesn't remember exactly how you started talking, but you became inseparable over the next few months. However, a new job offer to your father split them up and you had to move out of Gotham the year you graduated.

But you never forgot Dick. How could you not remember all the amazing moments you created while you were together? You had a wonderful friendship and the memories always warmed your heart.

Therefore, it was already expected that you would return to your hometown as soon as possible. And so, after graduating in biological sciences, you went on a quest to build a new life in Gotham and most importantly, find your old best friend.

Dick couldn't be happier at his sudden return, other than surprised, of course. And you can't help but notice how good time had done him, whatever he'd been doing for the last few years.

Despite the time apart, it wasn't difficult for you to go back to being the friends you were before. Dick introduced you to his family and you had to stop yourself from making any comments about how her father liked to adopt children.

After going out on your free time, dropping gifts on your apartment door and long conversations after a tiring shift at work, it was more than clear to anyone that stronger feelings were involved in this new relationship of yours. It took a while, but both of them wasted no time once they stopped denying how they felt about each other and five months after you got back together, Dick and you became Gotham's newest couple.

Dating Richard Grayson was like having the best days of your life every day. He was affectionate, considerate, and protective of you, mainly because of his nightlife. You didn't need to know the two of them for anyone to be completely sure that your boyfriend loved you, just look at the way his eyes sparkled as he looked at you. Again, Dick was an amazing boyfriend and to say you were spoiled by him would be almost an understatement. He would do anything for his girl.

Knowing this extreme trust in you, Dick soon set about opening up about his life as a vigilante, consequently, you found out about the others as well. However, you have to admit that I already suspected that Grayson was hiding something, after all the excuses about the sudden injuries were already getting ridiculously repetitive. And in which universe does someone dislocate their wrist while playing board games with their little brother? Okay, fine, it's possible to make an exception when the brother in question is Damian Wayne, but still. Sibling relationships aside, Dick said that for a relationship to work well, it was important not to keep secrets and lies with each other and you, like him, followed the commandment.

Until you meet Jason Todd.

Despite having known Bruce, Alfred, Tim, Damian and the girls from the beginning, as I said, you were only introduced to the problem brother after a year of dating. And honestly? If you had powers to predict the future or knew someone who did, you would have pretended to be sick the day you met Jason Todd.

Maybe then, you weren't alone now.

You and Jason hit it off right away. In the eyes of others, you elevated a brother-in-law relationship to a beautiful friendship, and that was great. Dick was glad you got along with everyone in your family, especially Todd who could have the potential to act like the most annoying of the brothers if he wanted to. Batfamily members said Dick couldn't have picked anyone better. Yeah, everyone really liked you. So that must be why they were extremely disappointed when they discovered that this friendship with Jason was the most reckless, selfish and toxic thing that ever happened in that mansion.

He was once told that all good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you, it was somewhat poetic and a little questionable, but it took a similar situation to really understand.

Dick Grayson made you a better person, he was your faith, he made you feel loved and cared for like no one had ever done before. Dick Grayson was an amazing human being, he deserved all the best from other people and besides, he was very good to you.

But Jason Todd was the complete opposite. He was the problem kid, walked side by side with danger and still laughed at him behind his back and maybe that was what attracted his attention. You wanted to play in the fire that Jason Todd was, but you forgot to be careful not to get burned. He made you become a sinner.

You knew you were making a mistake and you were sure a little voice inside warned you that you would bitterly regret it. You knew you were being a motherfucker for letting Jason's hands touch your body while your boyfriend slept peacefully in one of Wayne Manor's bedrooms. You knew that enjoying Todd's hot, wild touches only made your situation worse.

You knew things were going downhill from there when after months of being on the sly with Jason, he asked you to break up with Dick. You knew this mistake was snowballing when, the next day, Jason confessed his feelings for you. You knew you had managed to make your situation twice as bad when he said he would. You knew there was no turning back when Dick caught the two of them lying in bed between the sheets.

It was a cold and rainy morning, the perfect weather to match the tension that had been in that room when the door was swung open.

"Tell me this isn't true."

You thought for a few seconds if they hadn't been discovered before and Dick was just ignoring it and avoiding all the destruction it would bring, after all you were dating a detective, it wouldn't surprise you if he was holding the fuse until it burned.

"Dick, I--"

"Please tell me I got it wrong and that you didn't have sex with my little brother."

Yeah, you were sure he already knew before.

"It's true and I hate myself for it." Lie, you sure hated being the reason for all the sadness and disappointment emanating from Dick, but you still had a side of you that didn't hate what you had with Jason. You got out of bed and started picking up your clothes from around the room to put them on. "That was a mistake, it didn't mean anything."

"Didn't it mean anything? God, it almost gets worse. Has anything ever meant anything to you?"

"Yes, it did, with you. Our courtship meant something to me."

"How do you expect me to believe that?"

"Because it's true and you know I love you." You could feel Jason's gaze burning your back not yet completely covered, the younger's silence certainly made you more tense.

"No, you don't. You have no idea what love is, Yn. You don't know what it means to love someone. Because when you do, you'd rather die than hurt the other person. sure don't fuck your boyfriend's fucking brother." Despite the aggressive words, Dick spoke calmly, no swearing uttered in the highest pitch of voice, and that was frightening to say the least for you.

"I'm sorry, Dick." Nothing would do from now on, but even so you felt the stubborn tears running down your face. "I love you. And you love me, you love me, Dick. Remember?" One step in front of him was two in Grayson's retreat.

"Yes. You have no idea how much I love you, but this is something I'm going to have to get over."

"Please, Dick, listen to me. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I--"

"Can you shut the fuck up, Yn? Because if you keep apologizing, I'll feel like an idiot for not forgiving you. And if I forgive you, you'll just break my heart all over again and... I trusted you." You watched silently as Dick ran his hands through the black strands of hair, he always did that when he was nervous and didn't want to lose his temper. "You once told me that I had the power to destroy you. But you know what? You are the only thing that destroys people. I wish you had never come back."

"Dick, wait--" You yelled as Dick turned, walked out of the room and answered you with the slam of the door. For a moment, you thought about going after him, but stopped when you heard a snort of laughter from whoever was still there. Your troubles weren't over yet.

"What the fuck was that?"

Justice is delayed, but it does not fail. That's what they say, isn't it? The consequences of your lies kept coming. You made Jason believe that you loved him and that you wanted to be with him, now you'd said that everything they'd been through meant nothing other than that you loved someone else. You managed to break two people's hearts in such a short time.

"I made a mistake, we did."

"I really liked you. Fuck, I told you I loved you and you said you did." You refused to turn and face Jason at that moment. "Is that why you didn't break up with Dick sooner? Was I just a hobby for you?"

"That's not how it happened and you know it, Jason."

"I spent my whole life thinking I'd never be as good as he was. You were the only person that made me think that maybe I was. But I guess it was all a lie, huh? Because that's what you do, you mind, mind and mind compulsively."

"You did too, Jason. You're just as wrong in this story as I am."

"No, Yn. It wasn't me who cheated, it wasn't me who said I love you without loving. I wasn't a motherfucker to anyone." Hypocrite, obviously he'd been, he'd betrayed his own brother's trust, but you weren't in the right frame of mind to start an argument with Jason. "And I won't be the one who's going to be alone, because you know what? 'That's enough for me."

Perhaps the only truth in all of this is that you didn't love, and I dare say you never did, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd. You loved how they made you feel.

Dick was nice and kind and caring, he made you feel wanted and loved. It gave you the peaceful feeling of a picnic in the park on a sunny day. He was her happy ending to a cliché romance.

Jason was hot and sin personified, he made you feel the adrenaline and he became your addiction. It was like feeling butterflies in your stomach when you were riding a ride too high or too fast in an amusement park. He was the tension and suspense of a horror movie.

You didn't love them, but you wanted to have them both. You wanted to have two things that were impossible to have together, but you couldn't choose just one. You planted a bomb among the Waynes and left without rendering any assistance when it exploded. You wouldn't be there to see the damage but you hoped everything would be okay.

And now, you have nothing left.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #nightwing #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine

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vigsilantes · 2 years ago

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brain freeze (adrian chase x reader)

Pairing: Adrian Chase / Vigilante x GN Reader A/N: this is part 2 of the carnival! here’s part one: blush Summary: It's time for you and Adrian's annual carnival date, and you two couldn't be happier to be there together. Word Count: 1.9k Tags: Established Relationship, Reader-Insert, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Idiots in Love, Comfort, Fluff, Warnings: swearing, drinking, an absurd amount of fluff

~masterlist~ | >>>(read on ao3)<<<

Summertime calls for one thing – carnivals. The tacky rides that might break while you’re on them, the overpriced food, unbeatable games, and the children screaming their lungs off are all incredible things that make for some of the best memories. Every summer since you started dating, you and Adrian make plans to go to the carnival when it stops here in Evergreen. You two love to have some fun, ride some questionable rides and play games, and Adrian wins almost every game, he loves winning you prizes too – with his incredible precision from being Vigilante he wins almost every game. However, since going on missions with the 11th Street Kids on top of working your regular day jobs, your time has been limited, and you and Adrian have been exhausted from being overworked.

But alas, the summer calls for the carnival, and you and Adrian can’t give up on your summertime tradition! So last week after the impromptu carnival mission that Chris arranged you two were eager to go on your actual date. Collectively, you and Adrian asked – no begged Emilia to let you have a day off this week for your date, and after feigning disgust at your affection, she gave you a night off. The week crept by far too slowly, and Adrian was incredibly impatient as he wanted your date to come faster. He got a taste of the rides from the mission last week and he itched to go on more. Every night before bed he would tell you how many more days you had to wait until your date, he was so beyond excited for it, and you loved seeing how pumped he was.

After taking the morning of your day off to sleep in a bit and get some well-deserved rest, you and Adrian got ready to go to the carnival in the late afternoon. At first, he didn’t even want to sleep in, but you had to remind him that the carnival didn’t open until one, so he quickly got on board to sleep longer. You both got dressed and decided to take the rather short walk from your apartment to the center of town where it was set up, there was no point in driving the Vigilante-mobile. Once you arrived, Adrian gladly paid for your tickets and you entered the familiar grounds of the carnival. Each time you come here, the delightful memories of past dates with Adrian comes flooding back, and your heart feels happy.

“Alright babe, what should we do first?” you look over to Adrian with wide eyes, he flashed his teeth and met your gaze.

“I have a whole plan,” he started, you giggled at how prepared he is.

“I figured you would’ve thought ahead, babe, what’s on the docket?” you ask with pep in your voice, curious to hear his gameplan.

“First, we’re doing some rides, I’m thinkin’ the swings or maybe Ferris wheel, then we’ll get a snack and a drink, I know you love cotton candy so we’ll definitely have to get that, and maybe while we get cotton candy we can get a good buzz on, but then more rides, I need to go on Zero Gravity, and then a few games… I’m thinking we wait till we're almost leaving for games with bigger prizes so we won’t have to carry all of our winnings with us all night, remember last summer?” he beamed, taking a deep breath, you nodded. Last summer you could barely carry everything Adrian won for you, and it got to the point where you couldn’t go on any more rides because of all the stuff you had.

“You always make the best plans, that sounds rad! Except let’s do the Ferris wheel twice so we can make out on it a bunch on it, that was fun the other night,” you stated as you blushed, and he scooped up your hand in his.

“Great idea,” Adrian said, and you two began walking to the first ride and scanning around the area, there were groups of kids but there weren’t too many people right now, “it isn’t too crowded here which is nice,”

“Yeah, I’m appreciating the mild quietness, we picked a good time to come I think,” you add, and he hummed, then you spotted the swings first and pulled Adrian towards it. You waited in line for a quick minute, which you were grateful for as you’ve waited in long lines before, but the employee let you on fairly quickly. You let Adrian decide which seats to sit in and after walking around the ride for a second he picked two swings next to each other and sat down, you were on the inside, he was on the outside, as per usual. Adrian shook his feet with excitement, waiting for the ride to begin and you couldn’t help but look at him with admiration – his eyes were sparkling, he had a light blush filling his cheeks, he looked so happy.

You started playing footsie with him, impatiently waiting for the ride to start. A brief minute went by until you slowly began lifting up off the ground. Your legs were dangling, and as the ride started rotating Adrian reached for your hand when your swings moved closer to each other, you grabbed it, and felt content as the ride continued. Adrian wooed as the ride reached its height, a smile wouldn’t leave his face, and you felt thankful to be there with him. The swings were tilting from the spinning, and it began to be harder to hold onto Adrian’s hand. Your seats almost crashed into each other and you two erupted into laughter from the near collision. You were able to steady your seats as the ride continued, Adrian began tracing circles in your hand.

“This must be how Eagly feels when he flies…” Adrian marveled, you loved how his mind works – how he thinks of things like this.

“You’re so right, he must love flying… I bet it’s so much fun,” you replied with your voice high so he could hear. He nodded and furrowed his brows.

“Ughhh right?!” Of all of the things we can do I’m pissed that flying isn’t one of them,” he voiced, and you smiled at him like an idiot. “He’s so lucky!” The ride began lowering and the spinning began slowing down.

“He is, and he probs doesn’t even know how lucky he is!” you added, he huffed a laugh. You eventually felt your feet touch the ground, and the ride slowly came to a stop. After the worker said you could, you unbuckled your seatbelt and stood up out of the ride, Adrian reached out his hand so you could lift your feet up out of the seat without losing your balance. With your hands entwined, you left the ride and looked around to see what other attractions were near you.

“OOH,” Adrian yelled, you looked to him, “there’s the drinks!” he pointed to a drink stand and guided you to it.

“We got those super tasty frozen drinks last time, I wanna get one of those again,” you state as you approached the line filled with a few other adults who wanted to get a buzz on.

“Ooohh yes those were so fucking good,” Adrian said as he scanned the menu, “hmm, frozen peach Bellini?” he asked as he returned his gaze to you, that sounded refreshing.

“Yesss sounds great,” he nodded his head, and when it was your turn in line, he ordered two and generously tipped the bartender. They came with bendy straws which Adrian appreciated, he took the cup with the blue straw and handed you the purple one, which was on brand for him to do, and the drink was delicious.

“Good call, babe, this is tasty!” you tell Adrian as you sit down on a bench to enjoy your drinks. He sat right next to you, practically on top of you, and swung his free arm around your shoulders, gently caressing your arm.

“Yeah, this is good,” he hummed as he slurped some more of his drink. He was almost chugging it, and you could tell he would definitely regret that soon. He hates getting brain freeze, but he never seems to learn not to chug or eat cold things slowly.

“Hey, don’t chug, you’ll get brain freeze, dingus,” you wiggle your brows, he swiftly stopped drinking and put his drink down, but the look on his face was a sure sign he was getting a brain freeze.

“Fuck,” he whispered, and furrowed his brows as he scrunched one eye shut. “Yeah, totally not a good…” he paused as his eye twitched, “idea to drink that so fast, you were right,” he stammered, still barely opening both eyes. You rested your drink down on the bench and cupped his cheeks in your hands.

“Hey, look at me,” you softly said as you moved closer to his face. He peered open his eyes, still scrunching his eyebrows, and squinted at you as you firmly pressed your lips to his, he did not hesitate to reciprocate your kiss. You made out for a solid minute, and you became one of the things you hate seeing most in public – an annoying couple making out, but you truthfully couldn't care less.

“Did that help stop your brain from freezing?” you joke as you slowly pull away, he snorted and looked at you in shock, he was dumbfounded.

“How’d you know that would help?” his voice got high as he asked.

“I saw it online once, well – you’re technically supposed to press your own tongue to the roof of your mouth to stop brain freeze, but instead I put my tongue in your mouth. Either way even if it didn’t work we still got to smooch a bit,” you boast, as you picked your drink up to take another sip, Adrian looked perplexed, and his eyes were wide.

“You are so fucking smart, babe, thanks,” he smiled while shaking his head in amazement. He slung his arm back around your shoulders and you returned to how you were before. “Maybe I should start faking more brain freezes so we could make out more,” he joked, you rolled your eyes. “JK babe, I know I don’t need to fake anything to kiss you,” he stated, and you shook your head in agreement, he leaned over and pecked your lips again. “You loveeee kissing me,” he teased, you blushed. You always love teasing each other like this, your banter is always something that you’ll always adore about your relationship with Adrian.

“You’re such a dork,” you beam, “I do, though… like so much,” you flirt, and his face grew red. “Not as much as you like kissing me though.”

“You’re so right,” he affirmed, “it’s good to know that you’re aware of how obsessed I am with you,” he nudged you, and you couldn’t help but smile even more than you just were. “Ahhh I love ya, babe,” he stated in a relaxed sigh, you scooted in closer to him.

“I love you too, hun,” and he gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. He rubbed your arm as you quietly sipped on your drinks, feeling delighted to be on your yearly carnival date with Adrian. As you looked up at Adrian you noticed he was guzzling his drink way too fast again, and you knew he would most likely get another brain freeze. You silently grin to yourself because at least now you know how to help him stop his brain freeze, and you absolutely wouldn't mind helping him again.

#adrian chase #vigilante #adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #freddie stroma #peacemaker #adrian chase x you #adrian chase fic #dcu #adrian chase fluff #peacemaker hbo #vigilante fluff #vigilante x you #cross posted on ao3 #adrian chase x gender neutral reader #vigilante fic

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theshatteredrose · 3 years ago

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Omg I had such a silly idea go through my head, after reading that chapter I couldn't stop thinking about Taksony, his soldiers, the lore about him we don't know. I figure he had tons of soldiers like Ahimoth who WERE blindly loyal to him, in addition to soldiers who just tolerated him for whatever reason. But anyway I had this thought, and it's just me entertaining myself so don't take it seriously lol.

Imagine a group of Taksony loyalists, after his death, want someone similar to take his place, and naturally who better than his own blood heir, right? Sure Rahas was a moody and uncooperative brat, but they could easily train him to be ruthless like his father! It's in his blood after all!

Meanwhile there's a group of soldiers who immediately went rogue after Taksony’s death, and the LAST thing they want is for someone of his blood to take over. So while the Loyalists are searching for Rahas to make him Taksony’s successor (yeah good luck with that) the Rebels are trying to counter them by attempting to assassinate him.

Now where it gets dumb and silly cuz this is The Guardians we're talking about. They all make it to Lagaard, separately of course, in search of Rahas, to either kidnap him or assassinate him to end Taksony’s bloodline. However every last attempt at getting close to him is foiled by something completely innocuous and random, and the members of the Guardians Guild are suspiciously always the ones getting in the way.

An example: one assassin is following Rahas through a crowded part of town and is ready to lunge for him when an arrow suspiciously shoots him on the shoulder. He goes completely frozen and just paralyzed. But Tobyn says he was actually aiming for a guy BEHIND him who was trash talking Jhon earlier! He just got in the way! Seriously!

Another funny one is that one of them sees Axel, recognizes him by reputation, and just fuckin leaves cuz "nah not worth that mess bye".

They're all none the wiser (or are they?) And nothing bad happens aside from a few casualties of coincidence 😂😂😂

Ahahaha, that does sound like a lot of fun! Guardians boys being protective of one another and of others. You know, now that Rahas has found his place in the world, he and Tobyn would get along quite well, probably to Jhon's chagrin after he finds the two discussing the most painful ways to hinder someone :'D

I really like the idea that Axel is so notorious that anyone who knows of even a hint of him is like "Aw naw, I ain't fucking with that." And Axel is just like "??? Well, whatever, I guess".

((On a tangent, I have this idea for my Nexus series where Falkner's past comes back to hunt him down by systematically hunting down other redheads to get under his skin. Only, the violent murder takes one look at Axel and just backs off XD))

Imagine the kind of punch Axel could deliver if he was absolutely livid XD

I also like the idea of Rahas recognizing some of those assassins or followers and deciding to fuck with them. Hey, he deposed of Ahimoth, one of the most recognisable assassins that worked for Taksony. These bastards are obviously up to something, and he's pretty sure it ain't something 'good'. And because Rahas is so much fun being a complete badass~

While Taksony was 'content' with wielding absolute power and terror over everyone who knows him, Rahas is using his skill and potential status to get rid of bastards like Taksony that enter his life, or the lives those he cares about. He's not a vigilante that is going around saving the world. Nah, he's content with protecting those in his world. Their happiness and safety is his top priority. Anyone who dares mess with that is going to regret it severely.

We don't know much about Taksony, and that's by design. He's this shadowy figure who is a complete mystery. Why do some people blindly follow him like he's some kind of messiah? How did he come to get such status and power? Who was he as a child? Did he have more children?

He honestly had three types of 'followers'. Those who are blindly willing. Those who gladly use his vile reputation to their advantage. And those who are there under duress.

Whoops, sorry, got a bit rambly there XD

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 4 years ago

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Quietly Jaded

Pairing: Omega!Peter/Alpha!Kingpin -- Omega!Peter\Avengers.

Summary: Peter Parker is an Omega masquerading as a Beta. A story of student loans, Avengers wanting Spiderman, Avengers wanting Peter Parker for his Omega status, and Peter just done with them. He doesn't need them - he already has an Alpha. Not the best Alpha but... Well... Fuck.

Tags: Major AU, ABO world, Heats/Ruts, Drug Abuse, Dark Personalities, College Peter, Dubious Consent, more added later.

Part 1

Peter hadn't always been the silent type. It grew on him with time. Losing friends, losing family, it was just easier to not talk than to talk - besides school there wasn't much to talk about.

Not like he could discuss being Spiderman?

With college dreams came college debt and even with grants and scholarships, student loans kept a roof over his head and food in his stomach.

Legally no one had to know his gender. He didn't act like most Omegas or Alphas so many people presumed he was a beta which wasn't a bother.

Betas were a safe median.

If Peter Parker was a Beta then so was Spiderman.

Hero's or vigilante's of justice weren't titles Omegas carried. Not that they were incapable but mostly the world was a shitty place and he was safer as a Beta than Omega.

No worries of being snatched.

No worries of his degree somehow being mishandled.

No worries of being treated like a damsel in need of a minder. Modern America, as progressive as any first world country, was still archaic in nature to a Omegas ability to cope outside of a Pack or Alphas knot.

It started as a curiosity or so that's how Peter saw it as. The Avengers paying attention to him was... Unneeded but the geek in him was intrigued.

First was Tony Stark aka Iron Man who appeared from nowhere one cool Autumn evening. It was a quiet night, the witching hour, a time where nothing really happened in the never quiet city. Sitting on a swing made from his webs he was eating a sandwich from his favorite bodega. The grandmother of seven never took no for an answer after he had saved her life and that of her children several times over the years and had even knitted him a scarf once.

Peter still had that scarf.

Mask pulled up to sit along the ridge of his nose he had sat staring out into the world with a gargoyle above him for company.

"You're softer than I pegged you for."

His senses didn't tingle and that alone kept him there, hanging like a booger from an impossibly high building, and taking a much deserved bite from his sandwich. A cuban torta with extra adobo.

"So. Kid. Got a name?"

Silence.

Peter chewed and ignored the floating man whose stare went from curious to frustrated.

"It's rude to not speak when spoken to."

Shoving the last of his food into his mouth Peter wiped the crumbs from his chin, pulled down his mask, and with a thumbs up, ripped an end of his webbed swing.

Plummeting like a bowling ball down... Down... And with a well-aimed (practiced) web swung himself away from sight. Iron Man wouldn't find him, not when Peter knew of a well hidden niche that he could slip into and not be seen or leave a heat signature.

Something that Iron Man was trying to do and Peter was grateful for his sensitive ears.

Next was Captain America. Decked out in his uniform and shield. It was a pretty wicked shield and one that Peter had caught before it could hit the cyborg that was destroying a nameless street of the city.

Spiderman ignored the shouts of 'traitor' and the arrows that followed him but Peter was more than a flexible arachnid. He was quite familiar with this street. It was the street that housed a shit ton of kids.

Kids that had loved it when he opened the fire hydrants or handed out frozen pops because Peter loved kids.

Not because he was an Omega.

Hell no.

He just loved kids. Kids loved him and thought he was cool.

Using the shield to block the occasional laser blast - because of course lasers - Peter lead the cyborg away. His webs helped to drag the thing and keep it from swinging wildly but Peter was more than bendy, more than, web's, he was strength and endurance.

While the others had stopped trying to kill him - yes those were kill shots - Peter managed to drag the hefty piece of machinery away. Feet digging into the concrete, one hand fisting a bundle of his webs as the other held close to a shield that left his hand tingly.

From the sewers a mass of crab like machines took the Avengers attention and as he finally reached an open area of an eight lane street Peter didn't panic when the cyborg finally broke free. The webbing shredding and as he fell from the slack Peter turned and tucked himself behind the shield in time for a powerful beam to hit the Vibranium and drag him backwards from the force.

Even in the face of death he thought it was cool. So cool.

This wasn't his first time facing a cyborg. A giant imitation of a man decked out in weaponry with a human brain attached in its center. Cyborgs bled green and their eyes were yellow pinpoints of awareness.

Cool but creepy.

Very creepy.

With one hand he sent out a web, latched onto a bus and swung it towards the cyborg that put all its attention to the massive vehicle, using each arm to fire laser beams - still so cool - missing Captain America's shield that hit where the brain sat.

Right side, 8 inches from the center, shield at a 70° angle.

A stream of green blood - plasm - and brain matter coated the streets. The shield hit the ground at a roll and lodged into the side of a brick building. A hair's breadth away from the man who had aimed arrows at his head.

Peter was sad that he missed. Not that he couldn't have killed the man but Spiderman had an image to keep up and he was sure kids were peaking through blinds.

If Hawkeye stared at the shield with wide-eyed 'what the fuck', Peter accepted that as payment.

Asshole.

Had Peter been... Well... Nicer... He would have thrown himself back into the fray helping the Avengers finish iff the crab robots except Peter wasn't that nice and he wasn't that forgiving.

Padding to the twitching machinery Peter took a moment to web himself a mat on the ground and take apart the cyborg. He was quick, knowing exactly what he wanted and where to find it, bundling it in his own web Peter pulled up the edges and folded the edges together and without a backwards glance he left.

Fuck the Avengers.

As Spiderman Peter had the nasty habit in bumping into random heros with hero size complexes and it got to the point where he just waved at the several who tried to stalk him.

They weren't as stealthy as they thought they were.

As Peter Parker there was no Avengers just debt and homework. The two worlds very rarely collided. Peter Parker was a nobody... Well... He was on the Deans List and top 12% of the university when it cam to grades even if his attendance was far from stellar.

Thankfully he had made a friend with a doctor who wrote really nice perfectly excusable doctor notes.

He had done the math. It would be a 2.8% chance he would catch the eyes of anyone Hero related. Nothing he did as a regular schmoe would catch anyone's attention.

Really.

Honestly.

Of course he never fraction in his own Parker Luck.

Fuck his Parker Luck and Fuck his inability to think properly after a near 27 hours of no sleep and a lab all to himself. At 1am he had the building to himself and the key card to prove it!

At 1 am and still wide-eyed with a brain that wouldn't shut off, Peter shouldn't have been allowed near anything that contained chemicals besides H2O. Instead he had 2 walls dedicated to his scribbles with a rainbow of color - thank you crayola - a pyramid of Styrofoam microwaveable ramen and a teetering tower of hot pocket boxes, and a keurig.

He had an unlimited - well half a box left - of hot chocolate to tide him over and a bag of mini marshmallows to keep the shakes away as he worked on his thesis. Technically his thesis was typed, edited, and awaiting a last read through BUT he was stuck.

He was so close to creating the perfect drug that he was vibrating with a desperate energy as his friends - the machines scattered around the room - worked to show him if his calculations were correct or he had to start again.

Staring at the board Peter needed to distract himself from the whirring and beeping. Headphones in place he jump started his bluetooth and filled the silence with his google playlist set to play his thumbs up.

As it was so late and he was alone in the building Peter didn't think singing along to his playlist would be a big deal. Being an Omega he had few quirks that were... Questionable.

Omega's were notorious for their allurement beyond their scent. Many were artists, creators of music, rhythm, designers, they were architects, chefs, Omegas were once considered Sirens and Muses of the God's... While Peter could sketch and recite the periodic table backwards and forwards he could sing.

There was something about his voice that could draw attention or put someone to sleep if he so wished. A lullaby sung softly and with his will alone he could hush a colicky baby in minutes much to the relief of the parents he had babysit for.

Peter blamed Toni Braxton.

Peter blamed the open windows to the lab.

Peter blamed the chaos that happened less than a mile away from the University and the Hulk that somehow broke away from the group and all but bulldozed himself to the lonely building off set from the rest of the school.

Peter blamed... Well... He blamed Tony Stark for being a nosy douche of a man and tuning into the voice singing a very heartfelt rendition of un-break my heart.

Outside the lab Tony watches as the Hulk shifts back to being just Bruce and the man is swaying, "Omega."

Tony's gaze swivel down to where Bruce is laid out on the ground, dazed. "What?" Had he heard the man right.

"Hulk..." It was difficult to speak so soon after a change but Bruce managed one more word, "Omega." And it didn't take much to put two and two together and Tony moved until he was hovering by the only window lit out of the building.

Hair a mess, clothes askew, ass perched on the a desk, sat a young man staring at a dry erase board and hands moved with each dip and rise. The boy was moving, a dry eraser in one hand and a purple marker in another as he wrote a different scribble.

Tony was smart, brilliant even, but even if he squinted he couldn't make out what was written. There was numbers with familiar sequences but even JARVIS who had scanned the room was at a lost and suggested the scribbles were a code.

Quiet filled the room and he took that moment to shush his team and soon another song had the younger man humming, head nodding to a beat.

"Send away for a priceless gift One not subtle, one not on the list Send away for a perfect world One not simply, so absurd In these times of doing what you're told

Keep these feelings, no one knows

What ever happened to the young man's heart? Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart..."

Maybe he was just tired but Peter didn't feel the eyes watching him. There was no warning from his spider senses just a quiet madness as he darted through the room. The keurig churning out hot chocolates and fueling the madness of no sleep and rainbow scribbles.

A.M. comes with bright lights and failure.

It was tempting to swipe the board clean but Peter was passed out under the only desk that would block out the sun with his lumpy backpack as a pillow.

It's an awkward way to sleep but Peter isn't picky. He's slept in worse conditions, even upside down once, and he had a 48 hour hold on that particular lab.

The click of the door unlocking doesn't wake him. The tap of heeled leather Oxford shoes doesn't wake him as said shoes stroll through the room until they pause right where he was sleeping.

Eye's hidden by sunglasses worth more than all the textbooks he was sleeping on, Peter didn't notice the frown on the man's face or the flurry of texts the man was sending before he crouched and woke Peter with a gentle nudge.

What did wake Peter was his alarm on his phone. A far too loud alarm that startled him enough he jerked awake, banging an elbow and his head on the desk. Swearing a storm, mind addled by sleep, Peter fumbled for his phone and dropped it.

Blinking at the pair of dress shoes, Peter held his breadth as he looked up... And up... Into familiar brown eyes. "Who the fuck are you?"

An eyebrow arched, "Everyone knows who I am."

No. Spiderman knew Tony Stark. Peter Parker could care less. "Are you lost?"

"Nope." The man rocked on his heels, eyes gazing around. "Came to see you. Interesting finding someone like you here of all places."

Peter frowned, "I'm not squatting. I wouldn't be the first person catching a nap trying create something big."

"Big hu?" His hands slipped into his slack pockets, "the hot pockets are shit for your metabolism by the way."

"They're cheap and I'm broke. I'm guessing you wouldn't understand the concept of broke." Peter tried to lay back down and cover his eyes with his arm, legs folded.

"Yet with no full-time job you somehow have managed to chip away at your student loans. I'm impressed."

A warning buzz settles over him and Peter keeps himself as nonchalant as he can unwilling to give the Alpha the show of panic that he felt. "This is a school of side hustles. Take your pick and leave."

A moment passes in quiet but Tony doesn't leave. Why would he? "Quite rude." The man murmurs, "Is that anyway to..."

"Leave before I call security." Peter interrupts, "You're a strange old man alone in a room with a sleeping student, only perverts stay where they're not wanted."

"Pervert? Pervert!"

"Yes. Pervert." Arm dropping away Peter made a point to glare into the yellowish hue of the glasses. "I've asked you to leave and you refuse. You are not my professor or the janitor. This is my lab and either you picked the lock or bribed someone and I'll be sure to tell the Dean that a creepy old man was allowed into his building to harass a student."

"Actually this is my lab. I own this building." Tony expected some form of recognition instead he got snark.

"Did you piss on the wall or write your name on it like a petulant child?"

It's not often that Tony finds himself without words but his lips part in surprise before. He lets out a whoosh of air shakes his head. "For an Omega you're a mouthy little thing."

The quiet is met with Peter blinking and Tony waiting. If Peter was smart he would have immediately denied any accusation or stood in righteous anger... Instead the younger man laughed. "That..." Peter folded his hands on his stomach and grinned, "is quite a compliment thank you." Tony frowned and Peter batted his eyelashes. "I'm pretty enough to pass for an Omega has to be the nicest thing anyone has said to me this semester."

"Just this semester?" Tony couldn't help but ask.

"Yep."

The quiet stretched far longer than was comfortable and Tony sighed, "I have a proposition for you."

"No."

His carefully constructed speech and patience flew out the window as he was interrupted, "No?"

"No." Peter repeated, slowly. "N. O." He spelled out just in case.

"No? You can't tell me no."

"I can, I did, and I don't care." Peter frowned before he unfolded himself and crawled out from under the desk and brushed the dust off his wrinkled two-day old clothes, "Alphas who can't accept a no and argue over the word are a danger to society." Tony wasn't sure how someone that wasn't eye level could make him feel small.

"Do you know who I am?" The kid arched a brow, took a step back, and eyes him from the tips of his shoes to his perfectly coiffed hair.

"Yes." Tony preened, "You're a misogynistic ass hole who thinks you can walk into my lab unannounced and get away with harassing a student and bringing up genders as if the position of my scent glands justifies your casual dismissal of my constitutional rights. You can't belittle or coerce me into agreeing to anything you have to say based on your purse strings or that you imply ownership on a building that was built from multiple donations. If I was an Omega I have every right to kick you in the nuts and get away with scratching your eyes out."

Tony's lips pressed into a firm irritated line.

"Seeing as I'm not I'll just settle for telling you to get the fuck out of my lab or I will scream murder. I'm a beta on beta kinda guy, so keep your paws off my no-no spots."

It was unexpected, Tony twitched as Peter's hands touched him - shoved him really - right out the door. Tony would never admit to sputtering or tripping over his own feet as he was pushed out the lab and the door firmly locked behind him.

Confused and slightly embarrassed he adjusted his blazer and nonchalantly walked away. I'm a beta on beta kinda guy... the words are like oil and water, his skin tingles where the younger man's hand roamed, the heat that made that primal part of his brain rear up and whisper Omega.

Spiderman was an escape.

There was times when he could swing away his worries with dizzying feats of near deaths, the adrenaline rush doing more for him than any drug on the market.

There was times, like that morning, when he would climb to the highest point, tuck himself into a corner, and hide. He was a millennial with a safe space and it was the safest space to exist in N.Y.

Just him and the pigeons.

Times like this he wondered how far he could fall without instinct there to make him survive and carry on another day?

Curling in on himself he hugged his knees tight to himself and let the tears fall. It wasn't often that he cried but when he did it was usually quiet and when he was alone. No one could see him weak, no one could see him break, no one could... A trumpet broke his depressive silence. An unexpected noise at an impossible height except it was a drone.

The four propellers were whisper quiet and a white flag waved in the wind.

"Fuck." Summed it up.

A 3d hologram appeared and it was the image of Princes Leia kept him sitting, curious, vs jumping off the ledge. "Hello itsy bittsy spider."

Peter narrowed his eye's and flicked out a web, the drone was quick to swerve.

"You're cordially invited to attend a gathering..." Diving off the building was a better option than listening to Tony Stark invite him to a Tea Party as if they were friends. You don't forgive people who tried to kill you.

Especially if they didn't apologise.

Especially if they stalked you.

Since being bitten by a radioactive spider like some weird comic book character, Peter had gone through physical and mental changes. Presenting as an Omega had come later, in fact his first spike of heat happened during a particular difficult battle with none other than Kingpin himself.

It had been a gory fight with Peter having to plow through layers of underlings from normal everyday thugs to enhanced goons that were blood thirsty to get the bounty Kingpin had put on his head.

It was a hefty bounty too.

Just enough where Peter contemplated killing himself off for profit. Kingpin had been his usual boastful self and holding a weapon that was more sci-fi than the usual glock.

They had stood in a penthouse that had made him hyper aware he was dripping blood on the cream-colored carpet and the beautiful statues were judging him.

Kingpin had a spiel like all super villains and Peter had listened as his mind raked over how he would survive this encounter when the A.C. kicked on. Cool filtered air pushed from the vents, Peter had shivered as it passed over his heated flesh that peaked from the patches of bare skin, it had taken moments for that devilish curl of the Kingpin's lips to unfurl and something else come forth.

Kingpin was a force of human nature. Built by weights and sheer spite. He was aggression, darkness, he was the devil amongst demons, he was a pendulum that swung between the dark side of the underworld and the light side of a family man.

Most importantly.

Kingpin was an Alpha.

An Alpha tied to a Beta and a son.

Dark blue eyes shifted, bleeding red before the massive bulk of a man lifted the gun and fired a single shot. The sizzle of the blast prickled the side of his face as the beam shot over his shoulder and the thump of a body falling told him that his spider senses were off.

Peter had studied many things but Omegean Biology wasn't one of them. He knew the fundamentals like many but the liquid fire that pooled at the base of his spine and slithered its way up left him standing rigid and an ache between his legs had him hissing.

Peter didn't remember closing his eyes, he didn't hear Kingpin move, his senses were so out-of-order he flinched when a large hand settled atop his head. "Shhh." Peter felt himself tugged into Kingpins girth, it had made him tremble and a whine had escaped him.

Later. Much later. Peter would learn that the man who was intent on killing him had cuddled him on an impossibly massive bed, the Alpha crooning, hands that could bend steel caressed him like a lover would, and for three days helped him through his first heat.

"Call me Wilson. Wilson Fisk."

Awareness had come in doses. The feel of soft cotton against his bare skin, the slick between his thighs, the ache somewhere deep and personal, classical music played in the background drowning the hitch in his chest, relief had been a burst of gratitude as shaky fingers touched the familiar texture of his torn mask.

The stretchy fabric cover his nose an encircled his cheeks and curved along his brow, seemingly glued to his skin. Hair, ears, lips, and chin were as exposed as the rest of him.

Before Peter could sit up a hand came from no where and settled on his chest, thumb and finger digging into his collarbone as he was pushed back into the mattress.

Pliant.

Weak.

A mess.

Kingpin was a solid presence he hadn't noticed until that moment. Hard naked lines with impossibly wide shoulders and solid smooth skin with not a hint of hair except for two perfectly sculpted eyebrows that furrowed in contemplation. "Where do we go from here Spiderman?"

It had been when that hand slipped and encircled his throat did Peter feel his body involuntarily move. Legs splaying openly and back arching as a familiar haze of arousal overwhelmed the need to run.

Wilson was an exceptional lover. His first Alpha, his first Knot, Peter never expected to be the Mistress of his arche nemesis, he didn't expect to have heats that were bursts of short frequent intervals, he didn't expect the open invitation to spend it with the Alpha, and he didn't expect the absolute possessiveness of Wilson or just how much control an Alpha like Wilson had over an Omega like Peter.

"Save the world but you will not interfere with my organization and you will be my most prized possession."

It was a story twisted by biology, twisted by the illogical logic of an emotion one could say was love if you squint, and the reason Spiderman dressed as a different character jumped from the side lines and into traffic, using his strength to flip a car that was chasing the Kingpin.

It rankled something deep that the urge to protect made him feel like a villain and the mocking laughter of Kingpin getting away hit him hard.

Fighting The Avengers to keep the Alpha alive had never been part of the plan, watching the chase from a random store front window, hearing the helicopters, it was a spur of the moment decision to steal a face bandana with a skull smile and a pair of polarized wide swimming goggles.

Running fast and hard he didn't use his webs and instead focused on his natural talent and that primal urge to protect the knot-head responsible to keep him blissed out for his next upcoming heat.

Toe to toe with Captain America and the Winter Soldier was... Thrilling. As Spiderman there was an awareness of maintaining his cool but as a stranger with a cheap mask and flannel shirt Peter could catch the Winter shoulders Vibranium arm and force the man to the ground before kicking Captain America's shield and tossing the pompous soldier away like a rag doll.

Peter's body moves on auto pilot as he flips backwards and moves with grace and fluidity as a mess of weaponry aim for him. Between Iron Man's blasts, Hawkeyes arrows, Black Widows bullets, Peter feels like he's dancing on the edge of death and it leaves him feeling hot and aroused.

Slipping beneath an abandoned truck he sticks his hand on the underside and with hard pushes against the asphalt he uses the truck to plow through what traffic is left and holding his breadth Peter pushed up with his leg and the truck flipped, the roof smashing on the ground and catching sparks.

Letting out a whoop, his flannel shirt wafting in the air he grinned behind the mask as he surfed for a stretch of time before coming to a halt and with Iron Man trailing him Peter ran.

Hard.

Fast.

Through the city.

Forcing the Avengers to chase him and not Kingpin.

More later...

*Part 2*

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holy-fate-worse-than-death · 5 years ago

Text

Okay, hear me out

The Outlaws re-form but it's just Jason Todd and Harley Quinn running around like chaotic bisexual messes working on their unresolved trauma and identity issues, while Poison Ivy is the Tired Lesbian Mom Friend™ trying to keep them all together.

So here's the set-up:

Via Roy's connection to Killer Croc (and yes Roy is definitely alive in this one, fuck you Tom King) Roy and Jason end up working with Harley and Pam.

It's supposed to be a one-time thing, but when Roy hangs up his quiver to be a Hot Single Dad™, Jason finds himself in need of some help, and he doesn't really have anyone else to ask.

This ties into the idea that Jason combats his social isolation by somewhat accidentally forming teams (eg Outlaws 1.0 and 2.0) that are meant to be short-term alliances but inadvertently become like family.

Ideas I have about this AU:

- Harley and Pam are absolutely canon. Not just queerbaiting where they're a bit too close to be friends. They kiss, they call each other "girlfriends" and Jason is absolutely beating the shit out of anyone who says anything remotely homophobic

- Harley and Pam definitely encourage Jason to admit his feelings for Roy (which they know about before Jason does), and eventually there's a lot of Jason and Roy being perfect gay dads

- Harley and Pam definitely babysit Lian at some point when Jason needs Roy to come out of retirement for a mission that only he can do (which also doubles as an excuse for a whole lot of sexual tension, e.g. "I miss spending time with you"-type stuff), and although Roy is incredibly skeptical, it actually works out really well

- Not only are Harley and Pam great babysitters, Roy feels empowered to start working on tech for the new Outlaws and he works as their own version of Oracle; gathering intel, sending them on missions, etc. This is kinda similar to the role he took on in Red Hood/Arsenal (2013), and it allows him to feel a sense of purpose and connection to his superhero days without feeling like he's neglecting Lian. (It's also a great excuse to spend a lot more time around Jason, if you catch my meaning)

- I know some people really don't fuck with the idea of Harley and Jason interacting, but I actually think it would work really well. We already saw somewhat of a precedent in Red Hood/Arsenal (2013) when Jason was trying to connect with Duela Dent (AKA Joker's Daughter). He's able to be compassionate towards her and connect with her despite the fact that she's literally wearing the Joker's rotting skin as a mask

- I think a similar relationship between Harley and Jason would be really healing for both of them, because it allows them to be people who form relationships that aren't necessarily decided by their trauma. I think there were absolutely points in Jason's life where he couldn't have been friends with Harley, and points in Harley's life where she couldn't have been friends with Jason, because of how much they remind each other of Joker. But Jay and Harley being able to have that friendship, and find common ground in other aspects of their identity (in the case of this AU the fact that they're both LGBT+ and don't adhere to Batman or the Justice League's moral standards), means that they've moved beyond their trauma and don't always see the Joker in everyone

- Obviously there'll still be initial growing pains, but I don't think the focus of this story should be on the Joker or any clown-related trauma. At a certain point, trauma just isn't a personality trait and it certainly shouldn't make up the majority of either Harley or Jason's personalities. They're both so much more than that

- At some point later in the story, however, there would be a situation were Harley and Jason come across the Joker and have to fight him. There's an unspoken tension because Jason is worried that Harley is worried that Jason can't handle it; and Harley is worried that Jason is worried that she's going to go back to the Joker. But they're in such an intense situation that they have no choice but to trust each other and trust the friendship they've built, and in the end they save the day because they were able to do that, which strengthens their friendship even further

- Pam routinely makes good points about radical environmentalism, and there are throwaway gags about how -- while the Outlaws primarily do the vigilante work that's too dirty for the Justice League -- they also occasionally break into animal testing facilities or sabotage coal mines/big businesses/other environmentally-damaging institutions

- There are regular cameos from other grey-area vigilantes (e.g. other former Suicide Squad members) and this story really tries to delve into the complexities of morality and why people do things that appear "criminal". It's mainly about dispelling myths and reducing stigma surrounding things like criminal behaviour, mental illness and addiction

- There's a cameo appearance from Killer Croc that deals with addiction and redemption, especially through Roy and KC's friendship

- KC is just so fucking proud that Roy is a dad, and there's probably a cute moment at some point along the lines of, "I may be a croc, but these sure aren't crocodile tears"

- Because this is my AU and I can do anything I want, I'd also like to see this story involve Dr Victoria October. I love her so much, she's one of the most underrated characters in all of DC, and I feel like a snarky, middle-aged trans woman would really round out the gigantic queer mess that this story is

- They come to Dr October for advice in a case that involves biomedical science of some kind, and it's meant to be a one-off. But then Jason gets injured a couple weeks later and Harley and Pam don't know where else to take him

- Victoria and Basil (Clayface) are definitely still dating in this one, and occasionally the Outlaws will team up with Basil for a case (although he's mostly in retirement while Victoria tries to figure out how to stop his powers from causing his brain to deteriorate like in Detective Comics (2016))

- Between Roy and Dr October the Outlaws end up with better tech than Batman a lot of the time

- Victoria is absolutely horrendous with kids but regularly finds herself having to discuss plans and gadgets in person with Roy, so she ends up sitting in his living room surrounded by children's toys, sipping tea and resisting the urge to glare at the adorable, gurgling baby in front of her

- She gets left with Lian at one point while Roy runs off to save Jason's ass, and it basically goes down like this:

- Croc loves babies and the first time Lian sees him she cries (Croc probably sneaks up from the sewers to talk to Roy about something while he's out for a walk with Lian in one of those cute chest harnesses you use to carry babies). Croc is so hurt that she's scared of him

- As she grows older she stops being scared and ends up fascinated by his shiny scales and big pointy teeth

- I'd also like Lex Luthor to be involved in this at some point. I'm thinking that maybe this could slot into the New 52 canon pretty well. Maybe the Roy in this story is the "real" Roy and the one that died at Sanctuary was a LexCorp clone. I'm also just really into this idea because I like Roy's robot arm and I think portraying those types of disabilities is really important and cool. Plus, it separates him from the other archers in DC and kinda epitomises the fact that he's the "tech" guy

Okay that's all I can think of right now, but this AU is basically my OTP + my other OTP + my other favourite characters

... Guess this is another fanfiction I gotta write lol

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iwritethat · 5 years ago

Text

Jason Todd: Paint Job

A/N: Here we go again :)

>>>>——————————>

"Oh my god, is this symbol painted on your bike?"

"Of all things, that's what you pick up on?!" The vigilante yelled back in an exasperated yet distracted tone, evidently frustrated as he released his sleeping hold on the final thug.

"I wouldn't have if it wasn't so bad - it's all over the headlight. You do this with your helmet on or something?" You wittily responded, standing from your crouching position in front of his motorcycle.

"I don't have to explain myself to you now run along and stay out of trouble!" Red Hood waved you off, at this point simply wanting to get on with the rest of his night.

"Ooooh, look whose getting defensive - how 'bout you bring it to my shop, (L/n) Autos, tomorrow night once I'm closed and I'll give it a custom paint job free of charge, think of it as a..." Your hands rested on your hips as you drifted off toward the end of your statement apparently in thought. The way your brows furrowed was quite cute actually.

"A thanks for saving your life?" The vigilante cockily finished for you once getting on his bike, but you shook your head and sassily shot him down.

"Ew, no. An upgrade, I mean wow."

"Rude, so ungrateful nowadays." The tone was unbelievably sarcastic and you knew he was rolling his eyes under the helmet but you couldn't care less, only folding your arms and responding with a dead tone.

"Uh Huh, I'll see you tomorrow 11pm. Got it?" You called after him, the male speeding off into the night - maybe Mrs C keeping you late had its meanings. God that mysterious woman...

In honesty you didn't think he'd show up, or if he'd even heard you after he'd raced off. Maybe you should've thanked him for preventing those assholes from robbing you instead of insulting his ride yet you stayed up after closing just in case.

A diligent knock brought you back to reality, the sound of clanging metal echoing through your workshop as you heaved open the massive entrance door. There stood your knight in leather armour, helmet still covering his identity as he leaned against the wall.

"That offer still open?"

"For that atrocity, hell yes." You internally winced at your inability to be kind to your saviour but breathed a sigh of relief when he laughed and handed you his keys.

"How long do you want it?"

"Hmm, give me a week."

"Whatever you want doll." And with that he was gone, off grappling across Gothams skyline with nothing but effortless beauty.

It had been a taxing week without his baby, but hopefully you didn't disappoint - Jason creaked open the door to your unique workshop, immediately noticing his newly designed motorcycle and it took his breath away.

"Woah..."

He walked around it admiringly, fingers delicately tracing your beautiful handiwork as he went, still unable to comprehend that this masterpiece was once his bike before coming to a stop at the station a metre or two away and inspecting your handwritten checklist.

Red Hoods ‘Thank You’:

• Matte Black = nice finish

• Red line detailing throughout cuz the guy likes red apparently.

• Detachable symbol, nicely painted

• Fixed engine -> more efficient

• Customised weaponry

• Taunt Hood about upgrades

A content laugh escaped him at the mocking words, you truly hadn't changed since he'd been gone and it only made him miss you more - where were you anyway??? He'd carefully scanned the area, finding your sleeping form curled up on the couch and shaking his head he made his way over, stopping in front of you with an amused expression only faltering when he took in your appearance. A red hoodie draped your figure - his hoodie, the sleeves reached the joints of your fingers and it was now stained with motor oil over the time you'd worked in it but honestly you rocked it better than he ever did. He’d given it to you when you were walking through Gothams back alleys together, yourself smugly complaining about the dropping temperatures before Jason had mercilessly thrown it at you rather than admit he cared about your wellbeing as his closest friend. It didn’t stop you from taunting him about his feelings though.

It was apparent you'd attempted to wait up for him so you could check off the last thing on your list but had failed to do so, it was rather late and you'd clearly worked hard on his ride that day. Jason knew he shouldn't wake you, and he couldn't handle making conversation knowing you wore what was once his, that you hadn't forgotten him. Instead he covered you with the fluffy blanket folded over the arm and left $500 on the table beside the takeout bag marked with 'C's Diner', memories of that place came flooding back and he'd silently decided to take Roy there that week. Muttering a thanks before leaving, Red Hood took his bike and left little evidence of ever being there at all.

The scent of the 60’s themed diner was always pleasant, it was a common occurrence for you to stop by after working late. It reminded you of Jason, and the elderly owner remembered you two well considering the liveliness you both once brought and honestly that charming woman was basically a parental figure in your life. Although she always has a suspiciously omniscience aura about her - Nanny McPhee incarnate as you and your lost friend had joked when you were children.

Unbeknownst to you, Jason remembered this place too though he regularly avoided it until tonight and ensured to drag Roy along with him out of convenience. The pair sat in a booth discussing Jason's bike upgrades when a mug of hot cocoa was set in front of Jason much to his confusion.

"Excuse me, I'm pretty sure I didn't order this."

"Ah, it's on the house. Mrs Cayce’s orders." The (h/c) waitress who Jason knew wasn't an employee proudly winked, saluting the elderly owner who waved over to him.

"Hey uh... do I know you at all? Just you seem familiar and Mrs Cayce clearly does..."

"Nope, don't think so, I would've remembered a beauty like you." The ravenette shrugged, you nodded walking back over the counter to converse with the owner once more.

Roy gave his partner a questioning glance, the sudden realisation and content smile briefly crossing Jason's features had him worried.

"Damn... Mrs C remembers me, I was hoping she'd forget. A friend and I used to come in here on the regular before the whole death thing, sometimes even help out and we would always order this."

"I didn't know Jaybird, sorry... But for the record this is the best diner we've been to in a while and I get if you don't wanna talk about it - but woah who was the waitress, d’ya think she’s single?" His partner questioned, gaze lazily drifting over to your laughing form.

"That was the miracle responsible for my bike, but (Y/n) doesn't work he-"

"Really?! EXCUSE ME?" Roy abruptly cut his best friend off, ensuring his wave caught your attention - eyes practically sparkling after hearing that information.

"What the fuck was that?! Don't, it's more conplicat-" Jason grabbed Roys offending arm, pinning it down to the table with his hushed warning.

"Despite me bringing over the drink earlier, I'm not actually a waitress here so you might wanna call -"

"(Y/n)! They're nice boys who probably wanted to talk to a beautiful lady, would you be polite for once in your life?" Mrs Cayce's words caused you to wince, your 'motherly scolding' spurring a frustrated sigh but in the end the judgments always brought you not necessarily what you wanted but what you needed.

"... How can I help you sir?" It was incredibly forced, as was the brief uninterested smile you gave them and the low but polite tone.

"I'm Roy and this is Jason. I was wondering if you could take a look at my ride if that's okay? The Red Hoods' or whoever’s is pretty sweet and he gave all credit to you." Admittedly, they noticed the positive change in demeanour at the mention of mechanics as Roy continued his request.

"Seriously?! He did?! Yes, 100 times yes! I’d lo- wait... Jason... as in Jason Jason? I do know you, don't I?" You were on the verge of squealing before that name registered, how the face matched your memories of your long lost friend and almost immediately your attention focused solely on the ravenette in front of you.

"..."

His silence wasn't considered useful, although his signature guilty expression gave it away, the awkwardly sheepish smirk he always wore when he knew you were right, his facial features were more mature and he was more handsome than you remembered - though you'd wished he'd never died in the first place. In fact you didn't even give a second thought to how he was sitting before you, instead trusting in the happiness he always blessed you with when in his presence.

"Fuck you nerd." Instantly you'd excitedly tackled him to the booth cushion regardless of your contrasting vocabulary, his arm wrapped around your waist whilst the other grabbed the back of the booth for stability since you'd almost pinned him to the seat.

"Rude much?" He abruptly commented, a playful undertone to his voice.

"Give me a break, you're supposed to be dead! I don’t know how or why but it's me Jason, we've always told each other everything..."

"I know, I didn't want to put you through anymore pain."

"You were a pain that I enjoyed having dumbass." Your tone was soft, more meaningful than he'd expected and it encouraged him to tell you everything.

"(Y/n) I-"

"Save the explanation for later, let me just enjoy your company for now and then I gotta show you my place! I managed to get my own mechanic shop and I fixed up Red Hoods bike - the Red Hood! God I have so much to tell you!" Despite knowing the excited tone you held was technically for him, he had no intentions of telling you who he was just yet, after all he was more than content to have you in his life again rather than longing for more of your time when saving your dumb ass under his alias.

That was the only reason he'd come to your garage that night, to enjoy your familiar company a little longer, if it were anyone else he wouldn't have bothered but for you? He'd still do anything for you.

"Me too doll, for a start this is Roy Harper..."

The owner Mrs Cayce carefully studied the scene, towel drying off your favourite mug as she continued to watch with a small smirk on her features and mysterious glint in her eyes.

"Why, it's about time you finally brought those two together isn't it Universe? Better late than never I suppose - but don’t you start any love triangle business ya hear?"

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc #dc imagine #roy harper

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