#an angsty sequel

[ranaeley]

The starmaker at work...

Closeups and alternate coloring under the cut.

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

What’s for Breakfast?

(yes it’s the parsnip fic)

(tw mentioned nightmares and mildly dissociation)

disclaimer: this will probably be ooc, i’m still extremely new to the fandom so be nice please

description: jason decides to cook and is interrupted by the rest of the bat siblings.

word count: 1556

All he came here to do was drop off some intel for Bruce but now? Now Jason is standing in the middle of the Wayne manor kitchen, with his hands on his hips, wondering what he should cook. He’s hungry, alright, sue him.

It’s Sunday and Sunday is the day Alfred restocks the kitchen so the chances of Jason actually finding something other than premade pancake mix was not great.

The first ingredient item he finds is a few parsnips. He passes one between his hands trying to think of what he can make with them. After a few seconds he comes up with something, tossing the parsnips onto the counter and he collects some onions, a leek, flour, eggs and vegetable oil. He gets the grater out and it’s decided. He’s gonna make parsnip and onion fritters.

Jason starts with slicing the onion. Just get that shit over and done with. The familiar burn of the onion begins in his eyes and he is immediately reminded of the last time he cooked in here. He was 15, it was a few weeks before his death. He and Alfred were making home made burgers, requested by Jason himself, and they made caramelised onions to go with it.

He’s pulled out of the memory by the wet feeling of tears dripping down onto his hand. He glares down at the vegetable as if it had personally wronged him. And you know what? It did. He’s crying all because of a fucking onion.

He continues slicing only slightly more aggressively when he hears a soft patter of feet.

“Todd?” At the sound of his name he looks up and is met with a sleepy Damian staring back. The kid’s got on a set of cat pyjamas, that Jason can admit is kinda cute, and is wiping away what looks to be tears. Must have had a nightmare or something.

“Cooking.” Jason replied gruffly. Damian approaches the island he’s cooking on and stands on his toes to try and see what Jason is cooking. Once again he can admit the kid looked kinda cute with only just his head and little hands poking over the bench.

“Cooking what?” He asks softly and with genuine childlike curiosity, which is rare for Damian. Jason breathes out a sigh and walks over to the small table on the far side of the kitchen and pulls a chair up against the bench.

“Parsnip and onion fritters. Wash your hands and come grate the parsnips for me.” He usually would tell him to fuck off but the kid looks like he could use a distraction and he does love a mission.

Damian washes his hands, climbs up the chair and starts grating.

They slice and grate mostly in quiet, only breaking the silence to quietly giggle at each other's onion induced tears.

“Cooking?” The sound of a voice startles them both so badly Damian almost throws a parsnip and Jason damn near cuts his finger off. When they look up at the source, Cass is standing there with an eyebrow raised.

“Christ, Cassandra, you could have killed us.” Damian says as he lowers the parsnip. Jason huffs out a laugh.

“Again.” He mutters and doesn’t miss the nasty look Damian throws him. Cass only smirks and shrugs. She looks dishevelled but Jason chooses to ignore it. She wanders over to the island, inspects what they’re doing before sitting on one of the stools and pulling her phone out of her pocket. Jason and Damian share a look before continuing what they were doing.

They finally get through all the slicing and grating when Steph and Tim stumble in looking like they had not slept all week. Jason stops what he’s doing just to look at them judgingly.

“Where the fuck have you two been?” he asks like he doesn’t want to know. Steph groans and collapses into the stool next to Cass.

“We were out all night for a stake out that turned up nothing.” Jason makes a confused face at that and looks to Tim who is all but dragging himself to the coffee machine.

“I don’t even want to talk about it.” He says holding a hand up to block out Jason’s judgmental look. Stake outs like that happen, not often but they happen. But for Tim? It’s even less often, he gathers all the intel he can before going out. Make sense for his mood to be shit.

Jason can practically sense Damian is about to say something so he scoops him up by the armpits and places him onto the ground.

“Your jobs done now.” He tells him before the kid can protest. He only receives a slightly grumpy nod before Damian drags the chair back to its regular spot and sits down. Tim looks away from the coffee machine.

“Are you making breakfast?” He asks half judgy half genuine. Jason almost responds with some snarky sarcasm but just looking at Tim tells him the poor guy's exhausted brain would probably melt if he did.

“Yeah I am. Parsnip and onion fritters.”

Steph lifts her head from where it was laying against the kitchen island.

“What the fuck is a parsnip?” Jason chuckles and holds up one of the unused parsnips.

“It's like a white carrot thing. They taste good, trust me.” Steph eyes it suspiciously before shrugging and laying her head back down.

Duke runs in while Jason is mixing in the flour and eggs. He stops and looks at everyone surprised. To Duke’s credit it is rare for all of them to be in the same room for a non vigilante related reason. He looks at Jason and into the bowl.

“Hey, that looks great! I’m heading out to patrol but save me some for when I get back?” He says as he grabs an apple and speeds out of the kitchen without waiting for an answer. Jason files the information to save some away in his head before he continues mixing. He makes sure everything is evenly coated before heating up a pan and drizzling some vegetable oil onto it. He places as many scoops as he can evenly spread on the pan and waits until he can flip them.

The sizzly of the fritters and the oil almost covers up the sound of a new pair of feet entering the kitchen.

“Whatchya making, Jaybird?” This time he doesn’t jump at the sound of Dick’s voice coming from directly over his shoulder. Just by looking at Dick’s eyes tells Jason the eldest is floating in between a dissociation episode. He’s not really all there.

Jesus Christ, was he the only one who had a good night? Well, he doesn’t really know how Duke’s night went but with the way he was rushing to get on patrol, if Jason had to guess it would be probably not good.

“Parsnip and Onion fritters.” He replies while scanning the kitchen for what task he can give Dick to help him out.

“Hey, could you do the dishes for me? I wouldn’t want Alfred to wake up and find the kitchen a mess.” He asks softly. Jason doesn’t mention that Alfred is already up and upon seeing all of them in the kitchen, about ten minutes ago, gave Jason a soft smile and left to do whatever Alfred does when he’s not butlering.

Dick turns to where Jason points to the dishes and nods.

“Oh yeah, of course.” He says spacely. Jason fights the urge to fist pump. If he’s learnt anything it's if you wanna get Dick Grayson to help himself, you gotta guilt trip him a little bit. He does take the knife before Dick can add it to his washing pile. Yeah he’s got some less than moral helping tactics but he’s not gonna let the guy hurt himself.

Damian gets up to help Dick with the dishes and they make quiet conversation. With Damian occasionally yelling when Dick splashes him or tries to place bubbles on his head.

Jason hands the empty bowl to Dick before placing the last of the fritters onto one big plate. He quickly whips up a greek yogurt and herb dip sauce. He grabs out enough plates for everyone and places two on a plate for Duke before wrapping it with foil and placing them in the fridge. He then hands the remaining stack of plates to Dick.

“Alright losers follow if you want breakfast.” He calls out before heading into the proper dining room. Dick sets the table before taking one for himself.

Jason will never tell anyone but he did feel nervous waiting for everyone’s reaction.

“Wait, why is this good?”

“I can’t tell if these are good or if I’m just really fucking hungry.”

“These are really good Jaybird.”

He tried to hide the way the tension fell from his shoulders before digging into his own food. The atmosphere was good and it made Jason kinda miss moments like this. This sense of family and belonging. Just a family having breakfast together.

“Is there any left for me?” Bruce asks as he walks in. Jason looks up at him. He’s met with a proud look he hasn’t seen in what feels like a lifetime. He hides his face and gestures to an empty chair.

“Take a seat, old man.”

I hope the fic is a good as you guys imagined ����

here’s a special thanks to @kaycynyrs for sending in the ask that inspired me to look at this fic again and @yourlocal-edgelord for encouraging me to rewrite it and to @heavenssolitude for being there and supporting me 🥰

(i’ll totally untag you guys if you didn’t wanna be tagged. just wanted to say thanks)

[iwasbored777]

I know this wasn't necessary for the movie's plot but it should've been in the movie I'm crying 😂

[sunshine-and-her-ikevil-stuff]

*thinking about the villains' tragic fates*

You know, their routes never really talk too much about their fates and how it effects them mentally. Or how the MC feels about it, and dealing with the fear and angst of it with the slight exception of William's route

*eyes widen*

... I think I know what the sequels are gonna be about

[pastafossa]

Me: *digging around in docs folder* Me: One-shot to edit. Old one-shot to edit. Old one shot. Hey what's this one? 'Haunted'. That sounds angsty. Me: *clicks open*

“Did I… love him, Ciro?” “I believe that… you might have, yes. Him, and this city. That is why I encourage you to stay, for a time at least. See if the memories return to you. Even should you leave, it would be wise to know of the life you have led here.”

Me: holy shit

[methoughtsphantom]

plot bunnies about an idea i don’t have enough motivation juice to write. red hood identity reveal variety

smol jason

So, Red Hood reclutantly working alongside the Bat to take down a child trafficking ring when he is hit with a de-aging spell. It even isn’t the first time Batman encountered the end of this particular spell so he already knows the victim would have no recollection of their memories, so he protects the now child (he guessing 11 estimate age) and guides him through the panic of not being able to take off the Red Hood helmet. the one that canonically has a bomb in it (cause older Jason is a dramatic bitchTM) so like, Batman catches the child’s prying fingers and takes them away from the latches because Hood has implied the existence of a bomb and that’s enough for dread to set in his gut. Bruce gently coaxes the child to let him confirm this with a device he takes out of his belt and raises it eye level to the kid’s head. It beeps. And B feels the ground sweep out under him. Because indeed this child has a bomb to his head. (and he’s suddenly hearing another bomb go off in the distance and a warehouse and —)

anyways, B ends up taking (read kidnapping) this twelve year old to the Batcave so they can pry off the helmet and I can only picture the ANGST because this is Jason and Bruce each unaware of who the other is. Jason still lives in the streets in his mind according to him and well, according to B, he’s dead. So they start bonding, kinda awkwardly at first cuz of the helmet’s voice modulator, but Jay at that age (at any rlly) was a spitfire and like he genuinely makes B forget this is a crime lord for a second (kinda difficult to that when the kid is stuck in the helmet) but whatever. I can only see Jason being his cautious self but kinda being at ends here because he kinda does need Batman’s help to get this thing off him, so he can only, just like narrow his eyes when the Bat approaches him for a blood sample. (“Need to check for magic residue, lad.”)

(Jason’s only allows this because he has a knife he found in the clothes he’d was drowning in earlier)

As u can guess, Bruce was obviously lying and wanted to run the blood sample to see if it matched any from his database (as the Red Hood has also implied that they have met before)

Anyways Bruce just gets the alert that the blood reading was finished almost at the same time they can pry the helmet off, and because he got a little attached, he just wants to see the face of this lively if wary teenager that has the same name as his (dead) son. (he managed to pry it from him earlier, how, i dunno) It’s literally Bruce’s martyr and huge guilt-complex that goes like ‘ah yes let me see the face of a child that was failed so throughly by the people who should’ve taken care of him’. So they pry off the helmet and then Bruce feels like he’s been doused by cold water. it’s like he’s staring at the ghost of his dead son again, the image completed with ruffled hair, slightly upturned lips and blue guarded eyes that look up to him with recognition but not recognition.

Bruce immediately hardens, shuts down any hope he can feel rushing in and desperately tries to close the dam and let his confusion and rage turn into anguish. “Who are you?”

The boy—the imposter quickly tracks the 180 demeanor change and immediately goes defensive. A painfully familiar scowl appears in his face.

“I’m Jason, I already told you that, what, your old age catching up to you?”

Batman stalks closer and then the boy’s taking two steps back for every one the Bat takes. He tracks the loose outline of a hand closing in tightly around the hilt of a knife in the boy wearing his son’s face and he can only think how dare he.

“Lies! You’re not my son! Who are you?”

Heart in throat, Jason struggles to keep distance between him and the towering black shadow that’s so angry he can sense it in his very bones. He doesn’t understand.

He doesn’t.

“I-I my name’s Jason. Jason Todd. My father is Willis Todd, not—not, Batman.”

And there’s that for the little snippet. Sorry this is so disjointed😭. After that’s just the mental image of Dick cutting in with Zatanna trailing closely behind him and being all “Hey I got your message about a de-aging spell and—“ and just stopping at the scene.

Because that’s Batman towering over a clearly scared kid. Said kid using the distraction to try and stab Batman. The action clearly enraging Batman—that doesn’t make any sense?! B would never— Dick immediately sprints into action and steps in between the two.

like Dick just giving his back to the kid and not seeing. Batman clearly shaking his head in denial and snarling, treating the kid like his crime lord self and Dick not understanding. Having to receive help from Zatanna to get the kid the hell out of here (but like where would they even take him? The manor??)

Zatanna just takes them to the other side of the cave and takes note of the teenager. How he has a dead grip on a red helmet and his gaze is stuck upon it.

Meanwhile Dick has to physically restrain Batman from going after the kid and he raises his voice just enough to demand what the hell is happening?? Why is there a kid in the Batcave? …Batman??? Report. As he is demanding answers Dick had slowly loosen his grip on his dad only to now found him staring at his gauntlet’s data hologram.

The information displayed? 99.98% Match confirmed to Jason Peter Todd.

So as this is clearly pure angst, I want Jason to lash out, sticking only to Zatanna only to realize she’s the magic user that’ll quote on quote will return him back to normal.

Jason is just like on really uneven ground here, even though he doesn’t think he’s ready to retur. But then Batman is just like “Jaylad” … “Jay…” and taking off his cowl and reaching up to him and looking at him like he knows him, like he’s something fragile and precious. Which is sooo fucking jarring you can understand. Jason internally is all what the fuck

Jason just wants them to back off. Jason is an overwhelmed bean. He looks up to Nightwing for help but the man is also mirroring the Bat, domino off and eyes suspiciously bright.

Zatanna is literally the only person in the room not emotionally compromised. She’s with Jay in the ??? train.

Suddenly she looks down and there’s the little boy whose eyes are pleading in helpless confusion. Eyes practically conveying the question you can return me back to normal right?? he pointedly doesn’t rip his eyes from hers as Zatanna puts a hand on his shoulder, pretending she doesn’t notice how he trembles and wordlessly asks if he’s sure.

cut scene

Bruce interrupts because information overload and he can’t compartmentalize this is too important and he and Dick stop Zatanna to which she too is ?? because that was literally what she was called for here. Dick is no help.

Dick is torn.

[formula-fun]

hello dear, do you think we can get a little snippet from the if i had words sequel? ☺️ you confirming that there’s actually a sequel happening made my whole week. 🩷

hellooooo my dear! yes you may <333 i think i owe you a long one since it's going to be a bit of a wait--can't remember if i posted this one before but here you go!

IV. THING ONE AND THING TWO // WOULD YOU LOVE ME IF I WAS ANYTHING BUT WHAT I AM?

A scorpion asks a frog to carry it across the river. The frog hesitates, fearing that the scorpion will sting it, but the scorpion tells the frog not to worry because if the scorpion stung the frog it would doom them both. The frog agrees and allows the scorpion to sit upon its back. Halfway across the river the scorpion stings the frog. 

“Why did you do that?” the frog asks as they both begin sinking into the water.

The scorpion replies, “it’s in my nature.” 

“That’s a stupid story,” Max says, biting at his thumb nail. Beside him, Victoria is dead asleep. 

Sophie gently removes his thumb from his mouth. “Ah, do we need to paint this again?” 

“No,” he huffs. He sits on his hand. “It’s a stupid story. The frog should have known.” 

“Well, that’s the moral. Cruel people will always behave in cruel ways. We can’t expect them to be any different.” 

“But the scorpion isn’t cruel. It’s like when I got stung by a bee, and dad said it wasn’t the bee’s fault because flowers are for bees so I shouldn’t go in them.”  

Sophie purses her lips. “Well, it was a mistake. You didn’t know there were bees in the flowers.” 

“Oh.” He turns that over. “So it’s the frog’s fault? Because it should know the scorpion can sting?” 

She’s silent for a long beat. “It’s nobody’s fault,” she says at last, her voice firm. She closes the book. “Enough stories, hmm?” 

“I’m not tired yet.” 

“No? Are you hungry? We still have some treats from grandma.” 

And just like that the story was swept clean out of his head. 

Years later, he met Charles. 

Years later, sweeping around karting tracks was already old hat. He bumped wheels and pushed other children off, and he saw them cry to their parents about it after, and he didn’t feel a thing. It sucked sometimes, the way they treated him after, but he didn’t mind it that much. That was racing; that was life. If they couldn’t handle it, that wasn’t really his problem. 

Charles pushed him off the track. 

Max shoved him, and Charles shoved back. Charles drove him into puddles and across muddy strips of grass; Charles drove over Max’s tires and across his front wing and smiled about it after. Max gave as good as he got, and he didn’t feel any particular way about it until the third time it happened, when Charles took his helmet off and stood on the second step of the podium and looked a little bored and a little irritated; he was standing above Max that day, but he still hadn’t won. 

Oh, Max had thought, and something slotted into place in the back of his head—something strange, something unusual. Oh. It’s in your nature.

He understands Charles, now. Beautiful creature; unstoppable thing, formed out of the same stuff that Max is. Charles is a shark in bright red water: to stop moving is to stop breathing. Max is holding his breath, these days. He’s holding his breath, and holding his daughter. He’s making bottles and reading storybooks and when he lays down in bed at night every muscle is tense until he gets up the next morning—every muscle like a spring, waiting for the gun to go off so that he can run and run and run until he reaches wherever it is that Charles is in the world. 

“I miss you,” Charles tells him on the phone. Max had seen him win in Baku earlier that day. He’d held the trophy high on the podium and Max had pointed to the television and said that’s Mama, and Julie had squirmed and laughed at Max but not looked where he was pointing. 

“I wanna come home. I miss you so bad. I feel like I’m going crazy sometimes. I can’t sleep at all, I just want to be around you and Julie.”

“Yeah?” Max murmurs. He’s laying on the couch, his head against the arm. Julie is on his chest with one thumb in her mouth, and when he cranes his neck he can kiss her head and smell her strawberry baby shampoo. “I miss you too.” 

“What do you miss the most?” 

“Just having you around. Hearing you in the other room. Knowing you’re close by.” His throat feels tight; he swallows hard against the feeling. 

The line crackles as Charles breathes, even and slow. “If you close your eyes right now is it just like I’m there?” he says quietly. 

He thinks about doing it for a beat, but can’t; he can’t imagine the feeling of the illusion shattering when Charles hangs up. “Charles, come on,” he says, and his voice sounds pinched even to his own ears. 

“Max.” 

He clears his throat; settles his hand on Julie’s back and rubs little circles, over and over. “Tell me about the race,” he says instead. “You did—after the first stop you were doing such a late apex for a while into turn 1, but that’s so hard on the new tires when they’re not in the window.” 

“The sun was setting. There was a cool patch of pavement on the outside that made it easier,” Charles says. “Max, I’ll be home so soon.” 

“Did that work though? Even on hards? I have had that work on mediums, but you run the risk of so much spin there.” 

“I short-shifted.” 

“To get more heat into the rears?

“I know this is hard for you, baby,” Charles rushes out, and Max’s breath stalls in his throat. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“But you know it’s okay, right? I miss you and I’m coming right back as soon as I can. I’m going to try for tomorrow, okay? I know it hurts right now, but we’re always a family even when we’re not together. I’m always coming back. Whenever I’m away from you I’m trying to find a way back to you.” 

Max’s eyes burn. He breathes very slowly and very shallowly. His lips wobble, so he presses them together. His throat aches, so he clenches his jaw until he doesn’t feel it. 

“Do you understand?” Charles says. He sounds broken. “I’m coming right back.” 

His lungs stinging, he takes a breath finally. It’s tight and uneven, more like the inhale before a sob.

[lesbian-disaster-tm]

You ever just read that fic.

And then re-read it.

And then read it again.

And again.

And again.

And it's honestly one one of the best things -published or fanfiction- you've read.

The writing?

Flawless

The characterization?

Perfect

The characters?

Queer

The angst?

Great

The comfort?

Even better

The plot?

1000/100

And you can't geek out about it with anyone cause no-one you know has read it??????

Like pleaseeeeee. I'm begging youuu. Begging.

[tragicallystraight]

Someone please - I'm on my hands and knees begging - write a fix it for tf1 ending

Give me why megop

Just let them be please

[azriona]

When you wake up and write a 1200 word synopsis of super angsty stucky x reader fic and realize that your half a dozen WIPs are giving you some MAJOR side-eye right now.

[winterlogysblog]

Mertyl Angst Fics List

I'm a writer who adores making my favs cry and suffer in my fics. Don't know why that's just a thing that I do. I did it with Gruvia, I did it with Ragbros MULTIPLE times and now I'll be doing it with the Kiane fam primarily Mertyl cause his character is just begging me to write something gut-wrenching.

Sixtus steps in and protects Nasiens and Tioreh. Mertyl, seeing the brother that he's closest with be on their side, loses it BIG TIME.

Mertyl has zero control over himself but he's still in there, begging his body to stop hurting his family then he lands a fatal blow on King.

Mertyl ran away to Camelot and lived a life that he wished for himself, but slowly he realized just how much he messed up.

Mertyl, now on Camelot's side. Faced off against the knights. Sixtus, not wanting to give up on his brother, decided to go talk some sense into him only for him to get stabbed. LANCELOT IS PISSED

Mertyl was caught by the knights of Liones and was sent to the dungeon for interrogation. Just so happened that Ban is in the Castle. Let's say Uncle Ban is not too happy about his nephew switching sides.

[mattiebluebird]

Case fic AU of Duke's training year centered around his identity as Signal (big hero, works for/with Batman, above everyone else) vs. Lark (friendly neighborhood hero, fights for the little guy, does things his own way) told as he & the WAR crew investigate a strange new drug that gives people meta abilities, with several B-plots of the other Robins becoming heroes in their own right. Is that anything.

[iwasbored777]

The amount of self-control that Spiderverse writers showed by planning to make Gwen and Miles a couple by the end of the first movie and deciding to leave it for the second one, then deciding to split the second one in two parts and that of course meant postponing them again... They're not just torturing us they're torturing themselves (but the ones that are actually being tortured here are Miles and Gwen), they want that ship just as much as we do.

[serve-cunt]

I reread 'special topics in calamity physics' yesterday and I'm genuinely in awe how you managed to turn a late night blow job in a kitchen into both a character study and an introspection into power dynamics in a relationship

amazing

beautifully done

if you're insane enough ANY blowjob can be about power dynamics!!

[hillbilly---man]

When your roommate brings up the embarrassing things your boyfriend did when they were in class together back in high school

My 30-something post-canon Saiki characters from my fic Friendly Fire (these guys are in the last chapter)

[dawnbreak-daily]

HORNET WILL ACTUALLY APPEAR IN THE SEQUEL?? ٩( ᐛ )( ᐖ )۶ LET'S GOOOOOO

I'll tell you more, there might actually be Hornet pov in the sequel :3

She is sticking around and she has opinions.