#mild gore hehe

[hopelesslyromanticposts]

why i hate fantasy.

tw: mild gore.

okay hear me out before i get declarations of war sent to my dms

fantasy is essentially the dreams of mankind. hope. longing. stuff like that. we dream to have the powers of gods, though it's obvious that in a way, we are gods, since we created so many universes in the forms of books.

yet, is that really a good thing? look at us. you can't tell me that no one here has ever wanted to be in another world than this. come on guys. we've all wanted to be in harry potter, or some other world. maybe we wanted to be the child of a duke in england who was being courted by a handsome yet poor knight. maybe we wanted to be a ruler of a flourishing egypt who ruled the empire with the general as their secret lover. maybe we wanted to be in a world of cyborgs where we could genetically modify our bodies so that we could throw the empire state building into the pacific. maybe we wanted to grow wings and press our lips to the burning surface of the sun, or wrap our arms around the cool, milky surface of the earth, or grasp the stars and decorate our hair with them.

tell me you haven't longed for kisses underneath moonlight. tell me you haven't longed to be slammed against a wall and kissed so desperately, as though your partner was trying to swallow your soul and truly make you theirs. tell me you haven't longed to sway with them under the anonymity of black with no one but the stars watching in envy. tell me you haven't longed for someone who you could rip apart and watch them fall between your fingers as broken pieces, and easily put them back together. tell me you haven't longed for someone to not brush your tears away, but defend and avenge them with their life.

i dare you to tell me you haven't longed for heated gazes across a ballroom, biting lips behind the decency of a medieval fan, knuckles brushing against each other, hands gripping your hips tighter than necessary as you float across the ballroom, someone clasping your hand and looking into your eyes as though they held the universe in them, hugs so tight you feel like you both will merge into one like you were meant to be, a chase through the halls of an abandoned castle, indecency hidden by the status you hold in society, warm strong arms being the only protection you have against the frigid cold raindrops that pelted your skin, a soft warm body against yours while you both snuggle into sheets, hot kisses against aching raw lips that leave you wanting more, more until your mouth filled with the taste of coppery metal, and more still.

you do, don't you? you long for something akin to this, if not exactly this.

this is fantasy love. scars that are simply made out of makeup, sometimes scars that are covered in makeup. glass that's stained and will shatter, like illusions do. they whisper honey-dipped lies in your ears, tell you that your eyes shine with the fire in their soul, that your skin is littered with the stars of their universe, before leaving you gasping in your bed at 4 am with hot tears streaming down your salty wet cheeks as you realize that it was too good to be true.

real love isn't that. real love is twisted, ugly, purple scars that mar their skin, bared teeth at the first sign of danger to their vulnerability. real love is sharp daggers against tender skin, it's pain and screams and wails as they rip your chest open, tear your heart out, and run off, leaving you with a gaping, bleeding hole, and nothing to fill. sometimes, they give it back to you, with a chunk missing. sometimes, they never give it back. it isn't prince charming and cinderella or bad boy billy and gorgeous gal gemma. it isn't popular patrick and nerdy noah. its you with someone who you would've never dreamed of loving. someone you would look at and shout, "why?! why them?!" because they have nothing desirable, until your heart says "just watch" and takes you on a journey, until you're left on your knees in front of them, begging for their love.

but that's the thing about real love, it isn't beautiful. it's twisted. it's ugly. it's disgusting, but it's love. and, yeah, maybe it's poetic in a way. but it certainly isn't a poem.

thing is, being so used to seeing fantasy love and thinking "that's true love", you begin to look at real love and think "that isn't love", when it is. it is love, just real. maybe she can't bring you heaven to make you smile, but she'll bring hell to anyone who makes you cry. maybe he can't give you the moon, but darling, he'll steal the fire of the sun and place it in your eyes. maybe they can't create a new world for you, but my love, they'll set this world on fire if you desire it.

[abejaenacuarela]

Prince Kiriona: died for our sins!!

And she is seated at the right hand of God (an imperialist asshole)!! She's judging you ;) she might as well kill you right now ;);) and she's also the saddest girl in the world. I love you space butch Jesus Christ. Happy Easter;)

---

Príncipe Kiriona: murió por nuestros pecados!!!! y está sentado a la derecha de Dios (un imperialista que está haciendo sufrir a mucha gente desde hace Miles de años)!! Y desde allí ha de venir a juzgar(te)!! felices pascuas

------

es un dibujito muy apresurado y así nomás -enjoy ...I guess

• do not steal • follow me in Instagram please ;)

[cybernightart]

Oni genji doodle I sketched and coloured at 3am

!!!Blood warning!!!

(also just figured out how to make text different colours! I'm learning XD)

I made his face more similar to the mask but not exactly the same. Also the blood? Don't worry about it!

He's an oni after all ...what do you expect :]

[20thcenturyfoxx]

♡

Coloring and Arting after months of not doing so

[sunset-sunbun]

some warmup doodles for a fanimatic i have planned.. might do it today might tommorow, idk :>:

[calliemity]

Orin Scrivello's Lost Head Prop: A Masterpost

Written and researched by Calliope Avery

Content Warning: Very very mild and low quality special effects gore, implied violence, uncanny valley stuff(?), Orin Scrivello's face.

Little Shop of Horrors (1986) has an unfortunate reputation of leaving a lot of really cool things on the cutting room floor. The most infamous would be the movie's original ending, a beautiful and impressive sequence of puppetry that ended up completely scrapped. However, today we're talking about a prop that never made it into the final movie in any form:

Orin Scrivello's Decapitated Head!!!

Pictured above are the only 2 photos of the prop in its original state that I can find at the moment. The left photo was taken for promotion and advertising purposes, and the right image is actually a Topps trading card! (Which I have a physical copy of, hehe!)

To put it bluntly, I am slightly (very) obsessed with this prop head. There's so much mystery around it, and everything I've managed to dig up both fascinates me and makes me very upset. So much thought and hard creative work was put into the creation of this thing, and it was left completely left out and forgotten! I desperately want more people to be aware of this, so here is my big and (hopefully) well organized masterpost on everything for your learning pleasure. Alright, let's talk about some heads!!!!!!!!!

Forming a Timeline

The earliest mention of the head can be found in an early draft of the movie script, dated February 14th, 1985. There's plenty of concepts in this script that never seemed to get past this draft, but the severed head concept was not one of them. Here, take a look!

source

This section, found on page 66 of the script, not only established the existence of the head, but also establishes the facial expression it will later take on! Clearly, this concept was good enough to be held onto once actual production started, which is good for us! If it wasn't, then this post would be a lot shorter.

Early production of the prop began after the actors were cast, as face molds of Steve Martin were created as bases for the head.

source for the left image - source for the right image

Oooo, check these guys out!!! The left one is made of plaster, and the right one is made of rubber. The website sourcing these images included a quote from Steve Martin about the casting process. Here's the full provided quote:

"These molds were taken of my head for Little Shop of Horrors. It was cast on the lot at Pinewood Studios outside of London, and I got exceedingly claustrophobic during the casting. My entire head was covered with plaster and two straws were placed in my nose for breathing. Argh." - Steve Martin

I unfortunately don't have much information about the crafting process of the prop. I'm currently trying to track down anyone who could've worked on it, but the few people I've managed to contact haven't responded to me yet. So I can't say anything concrete about who worked on it and what went into creating it. The only thing I can assume somewhat confidently is that the creation of the prop happened around the same time as filming for Orin's scenes. It would allow them to make the face molds and also match up Martin's post-mortem Orin face with the facial expression of the prop.

Here's where it starts going downhill. From what I've found, the prop was never filmed with its face toward the camera. In the workprint that I accessed from the Internet Archive, the prop appears for 2 shots, and both of them only show the back of the head. Take a look:

source - timestamp: 1:02:59

[Video description: a low quality, slightly green tinted video depicting a deleted scene from Little Shop of Horrors (1986) where Seymour is feeding the decapitated head of the dentist, Orin Scrivello, to the plant. The video starts with a man in glasses reaching into a garbage can and pulling out a dark-haired decapitated head, holding it upside-down by the fabric on its neck. The head is faced away from the camera, so only the back of its hair is visible. There are vines flailing in the foreground of the shot. The video cuts to a shot of the plant puppet laughing silently. The video cuts again to a shot of the man slowly shuffling forward while dangling the head in front and away from himself. The plant is seen on the left side, still laughing and flailing its vines. Throughout the video, there are brief flashes of light that resemble lightning. The video's audio only consists of thunder noises and an unidentifiable sound that resembles chewing noises. End ID.]

My best guess for this choice is maybe it isn't as convincing when filmed? In the photos it looks really well made and realistic, but perhaps it didn't come across that way during shots. Regardless, the head was still in the film at this point, so that counts for something!

But as you and I both know, those 2 shots were left on the cutting room floor, completely removed from the final product. The prop was left completely unused and unspoken of... except for one instance.

Remember the trading card I mentioned at the beginning? It's a part of a full set of trading cards that were made and distributed by the brand Topps. Back when the movie first came out, you could buy a pack of 5 mystery Little Shop of Horrors themed trading cards, along with a stick of bubblegum. This 44-card set is notable for featuring a lot, and I mean a LOT of images from cut movie scenes. There's photos of the original ending, there's photos from the cut sequence The Meek Shall Inhereit, and of course there's also the card featuring the prop head! However, those 2 sequences would later be rediscovered, cleaned up, and then added into the Director's Cut rerelease of the movie. The prop head wouldn't get this treatment, staying obscured, unknown, and unmentioned.

Fast forward about 30 years. A certain unused movie prop would be offered in an auction, allowing us to not only see high-quality photos of said prop in its current state, but also to allow us to know the exact materials it was made of! Without further ado, I present Orin Scrivello's decapitated head, circa 2018:

source

This absolute freak of a guy was up for auction at the "Profiles in History: Icons and Legends of Hollywood" auction on June 5th, 2018. No one ended up buying it (I would. I need to buy it actually. Please sell it to me.), but the auction gives us some absolutely divine information about the prop, such as what it's made of and its dimensions! Here's a quote from the auction website describing its materials:

"Vintage original hollow cast resin character head painted in realistic flesh tones with brown eyebrows and eyes. The 13 x 8 x 9 in. head has been polyfoam filled for stability. Exhibiting cracks to the crown, which is brittle and with other wear and age. A striking likeness of Steve Martin. In vintage good condition."

How neat! The high-resolution images allow us to see the detailed sculpting of the prop, which is still evident and impressive with its age and missing parts! The creases on the forehead, and around the mouth and eyes, the realistically colored teeth, this was clearly sculpted with a lot of attention to detail. I would've loved to have an image like this back in the prop's prime, back when it still had hair and a fresh coat of paint.

Why was it Scrapped?

This is entirely just me theorizing, but I have a feeling it's for the same reason the original ending got snubbed.

If you take the time to watch the archived workprint, you'll find a lot of cuts and changes were made that changed the tone of the whole finished project. Orin's death and dismemberment scenes got edited down a lot. Shots of him struggling and knocking things down as he falls to the ground got cut, the voiceline where he begs Seymour for help is gone. The shot where Orin's legs jolt when Seymour brings down the axe is gone too.

It's not just Orin-related scenes either! Mushnik no longer cries out for Seymour when being killed and eaten, and that's ignoring how different the scene happens in the stage musical. And obviously, the entire ending got changed so that Audrey and Seymour survive, leading to the cut of the magnificent ending sequence where all the Audrey II's destroy New York. In a way, the film got murdered and gutted of any of its real horror, with attempts to cover up any of the blood they couldn't scrub out.

In the movie's later quest to rebrand as a softer version of itself, it only makes sense that 2 shots of a decapitated head wouldn't make it. The appearance of the dismembered leg made it through, probably because it's less gruesome, but a head is... different. I obviously think it should've been kept it in, along with almost everything they trimmed from the workprint, but alas.

Tldr, they cut the head off of the movie because it wasn't funny enough.

Conclusion

This is where the information I have ends, unfortunately. I do have more research routes I would like to take, but one of them involves desperately contacting random people who I suspect could've been involved (I've tried this, I've gotten no responses from those who I've managed to find an email for), and the other route involves taking a road trip to the actual goddamn Library of Congress, which is not something I can do right now or even in the near future. So this is probably as far as I'm getting!

However! If I find anything new, this post will be updated and/or remade again, depending on how big or little the info is. For now, I think this is good enough to share, and maybe letting people know will encourage others to research this prop as well! It'll probably be easier if it's not just me, y'know.

I'll finish by saying that I think research and preservation of art like this is very important. While it's common for cool artistic things to end up cut from movies, I think preserving that those cool things existed in the first place is something worth doing. Even though this prop head was a very small part of the movie, it's clear a lot went into creating it! I feel bad that I'm not able to credit any person or people for their work, but I hope getting the word out about it will do some justice.

If you've read this whole thing, thank you so much! I appreciate your interest and I thank you for taking the time to read all this. I hope you found it as interesting and fascinating as I do!

Oh, by the way, if this post looks familiar at all, you've probably seen the original version of this post I made awhile ago. I wasn't happy with the formatting of that post, and I ended up making too many discoveries to just continue updating it. I'll keep the original up to preserve it, but reblogs will be off for it, as I want this version to be the one to go around. Thanks!

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 14]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mild Body Horror, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Monstrous Attacks, Gun Use, Weapon Use, Past Major Character Death CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 13.7K

(14/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [DC Masterlist] | [Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Notes: I know I KNOWWW SHE'S THICKKKKKKKK it's for my dick grayson lovers what can i say?

Disclaimer: This series is originally by@fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

2006

“Dad!” You were quick to run down the stairs when you’d heard the door open. Bruce took notice to you as soon as you bounded up to him and the smile on his face was one that always made you happy to see. Alfred walked up next to you, greeting Bruce silently.

“Hello, (Y/N), what were you up to while I was gone?” He asks.

“Well, I finally cleaned my room,” you rocked on your heels.

“Very good.”

“Alfred taught me how to play Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star on the piano.”

“I have to hear that.”

“And I played a little, but that’s it,” you gave him an exaggerated nod and he smiles.

“That’s good, (Y/N),” he smiles. “Now, I have a surprise for you,” he says. Your eyes widened with a childish excitement. Then, from behind him, an older boy steps out.

“Hiya,” he waves. You step back, head ducking down in shyness while you looked up at your dad. “I’m Dick, you must be (Y/N), right?” He steps forward, bending down to meet your eyes. You nodded carefully before running to your dad. You hid behind his leg and he rubs your head gently.

“He’ll be staying with us from now on,” your father explains. “You’re always saying how lonely it is here, right? He’s a bit older than you, but you’ll be spending a lot more time together,” your father urges you to step out and introduce yourself. Dick, still at your level, smiles softly.

“I heard a lot about you, (Y/N),” he says, “and if you’re okay with it, I hope we can become friends,” he reaches out to shake your hand, but you shy further behind your father.

“She’s usually not this shy,” your dad says above you.

“I think we just need to get to know each other more,” Dick responds. He leans over so he can meet your gaze and waves again. You hid your face.

“Alfred will help you get settled in, Dick, let me know if you need help with anything,” your dad says and Dick nods at him before following Alfred upstairs. After a while, Bruce stepped away from you slowly. “(Y/N),” his voice had a stern, but gentle tone.

“Dad…” you matched his tone.

“What’s wrong? You told me you wanted someone to talk to,” he crouches down to your level and you hid your hands behind your back.

“I know…” your voice was quiet.

“So, what’s wrong then?” He asks. It’s true. You’d long been asking for a friend, and while both of your parents would spend time with you, it simply wasn’t enough. Your dad was always busy doing business stuff, some adult things you didn’t understand no matter how many times uncle Lucius tried to explain it to you. And your mom was… well, something. She had to make a living by “borrowing” things, but strangely enough she never gave them back. You really just wanted someone to talk to, someone who you could play with, or someone you could spend time with. Someone your age, someone who didn’t keep secrets.

Your parents acted like you didn’t know, but you knew something was up. There were nights where your dad would leave saying he needed to get groceries and then come home with no groceries. Your mom would leave saying she’s meeting a friend and would come back with a bag full of her latest ‘shopping spree.’ But you knew they were hiding something, and as much as they told you that secrets were bad, they had so many, you had a feeling. So you wanted a friend, someone who was just like you.

And now you had one. But, something about it felt… wrong.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. The boy he brought home, he seemed friendly enough, and you were curious about him. But you couldn’t ignore this strange feeling in your chest. “Where did he come from?”

“Remember that circus you wanted to go to?”

“Mmhmm.”

“He’s from there.”

“Then… where are his parents?” Bruce hesitated.

“They’re off for a while, and they asked me to watch their son for now,” he says.

“They didn’t want to take him with them?”

“No, where they’re going is not meant for kids like you and him,” he explains. “So, for a while, he’ll be staying with us. Why don’t you get to know him, (Y/N)?”

“What if I don’t like him? Will you return him and get a new one?”

“That’s not exactly how this works, (Y/N),” your father laughs. “If you don’t like him at first, you’re going to have to learn how to get along with him somehow,” he says.

“Okay…” you mumbled.

“Why wouldn’t you like him, (Y/N)?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged.

“Exactly, go talk to him, be friendly,” Bruce encourages you.

“Okay,” you nodded your head and Bruce smiles before shaking your shoulder softly.

“Good, I’m going to get cleaned up, why don’t you say ‘Hello’ to Dick on your way up? He’s in the room across from you.”

“I will,” you nodded again and ran up the stairs.

You stopped in front of Dick’s room, the door was open and he was speaking to Alfred, quickly you hid behind the wall, not wanting to get caught by the old man. But it was their conversation that kept you hidden.

“Now, Master Grayson,” Alfred’s voice was stern, you’d only heard him speak like that to your father on occasion and you when you stole sweets. “Miss (Y/N) doesn’t know.”

“Really?”

“This must be kept a secret between you, me, and Master Bruce.” Secret? Well, that’s not fair. You wanted to know too. So much for a friend who didn’t keep secrets. There were so many around you, you were starting to think that you should keep secrets just to be like everyone else.

“And she never suspected?”

“She is only seven, Master Grayson, and not usually here on weekends,” Alfred sighs. “Master Bruce asks that you be careful.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Dick’s voice was quiet. “Does he plan on telling her?”

“When she’s older, yes. When she can understand it.” Does it count as a secret still if they’ll tell you when you’re older? You’ll just have to hurry up and grow up then!

“Sure, I got it.”

But, still, that’s not fair. You wanted to know now. But when you heard Alfred approaching the door, you knew better than to let yourself get scolded for eavesdropping, so you ran to your room and closed the door only slightly, just enough to watch Alfred leave, and once he was gone, you crept across the hallway. Dick was busy placing his items across the room, you peeked in slowly, waiting to see if he’d notice you, and soon enough he did. He raised his hand to wave, but you ducked behind the door frame instead.

“Hi, (Y/N),” he waits for you to approach him.

“Hello,” you said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Did you… want to come in?” He asks. You shook your head and he nods with a tight lipped smile. But, soon, you nodded your head and Dick let out a short laugh. “Come on in, then,” he invites you. You walked inside and sat on the desk chair while he continued unpacking.

“I have a secret,” you blurted. Dick turned to you, eyebrow raised.

“What’s that?”

“I… I have a secret stash of candy in my room,” you answered. It was secret enough, you’d been building a bit of a stockpile now. Dick cracks a smile, looking somewhat relieved.

“That’s some secret there, who else knows?”

“Just you,” you nodded. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Friendly secret,” he makes a zipper motion over his mouth.

“Hmm… okay, I trust you,” you hummed. Dick smiled again, this time a bit tighter.

“I’m leaving now,” you hopped off.

“That’s fine! Thanks for dropping by,” he says. You nodded your head and ran across the hall to your room.

Dick, meanwhile, took a deep breath.

This was not what he signed up for when he agreed to help Bruce.

~

2022

The beast roared and, above you, a storm started to roll in.

“Well, talk about about a warm welcome,” you glanced at Jason and he shook his head.

“(Y/N)?! We ran up as soon as we saw you leave!” Tim and Damian regroup with you and you usher them behind you. Tim looks at the monster.

“When you said monsters, for some reason I didn’t think you meant legitamate monsters,” he says.

“Cap!” Aldryn rushes out of the barracks, your rifle and rapier in hand.

“Aldryn, I need you to run back down, bring Tim and Jason with you. You two, grab what you think you all can use,” you instructed. “I’ll handle things up here until you return, we’re going to need all hands on deck.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Aldryn salutes and waits for them to join him before rushing off again.

“Damian, I need you on crowd control,” you looked at him.

“What?! I can help!”

“Too bad, this is an order from your superior,” your voice was stern, and it took him aback, “crowd control. Make sure everyone is a safe distance away, am I clear?” You waited for his response.

“Yeah,” he nodded his head curtly before running off. You readied your rapier.

“Alright… let’s see what we’re working with,” you sprinted forward and the beast reached for you.

It’s going to be long day.

“Where are we going?” Tim asks.

“Weapons barracks,” Aldryn responds, running in after Jason and Tim. Jason grabs his usual while Tim looks around. “What are you looking for? If you can think of it, we have it.”

“Do you have a bo-staff then?” He asks. Aldryn hums.

“Yes, but you’ll have to come with me. Marion was using it earlier,” he mumbles. He leads him and Jason to the elevator and they descend.

“What was that thing?” Jason asks.

“We call them Daemons,” Aldryn speaks quietly. “We’ve dealt with monsters before, but none like them. They’re on a whole other level of power and now, beause of them, we’re short staffed,” Aldryn’s voice was grim. “Not exactly the best first operation for you two but, Cap’s orders.” The conversation ends when the elevator doors slide open.

“Aldryn!” Marion was surprised to see him, but more surprised to see the two behind him. “Do they have clearance?”

“They’re about to fight one up there, so I’d say so, yes,” Aldryn nods. 

“Holy shit, that’s one of them,” Jason eyes the beast in it’s cage. It snorts loudly but it becomes a low snarl. 

“Don’t worry about this one, since it’s in here it won’t be hurting anyone,” Marion says.

“No time for introductions, but this one here will be joining your research team once things settle down,” Aldryn points at Tim.

“Right, well, I’m assuming the Captain sent you down here for a reason, right?” Marion’s and Aldryn’s conversation were the least of Jason and Tim’s worries though. Jason looked over at Tim, who was looking at the beast.

“What are you thinking of, Tim?”

“Look at it, it’s just there,” Tim says. “The one outside is raising hell. Why is this one complacent?”

“Maybe it’s got something to do with all that stuff stuck to its cage.”

“Or maybe there’s more to it then they know,” Tim glances at Aldryn and Marion before approaching the cage.

“Whoa, Tim! Do you got a death wish?” Jason grabs Tim’s shoulder.

“It’s fine, they said it can’t hurt us,” Tim shakes him off and Jason follows close behind. “Also… this one’s different.”

“Can you really say that? You’ve only ever seen one other one.”

“Jason, it’s looking at me.”

“Okay. Wolves look at rabbits, what’s your point?”

“I can’t really explain it,” Tim mumbles. He stares at the monster. And it stares back. Then, slowly, it moves its head down and closer to the edge of the cage to match Tim’s eye level.

“You! Get back right now!” Marion’s voice was shrill and Tim broke eye contact. “How did you get it to respond to you?!” She pulls him away.

“I… I just looked-”

“Just like the Captain,” she mutters. She looks at Aldryn before shoving the bo-staff into Tim’s hands. “We’ll talk about this later, the Captain needs you first.

“Right, yeah,” Tim nods shortly and Aldryn motions for them to leave. But Jason looks at the beast a bit longer. Come to think of it, Tim had a point. This one was different. And, before he left, Jason’s eyes moved down to the floor, looking at the disturbed section of it where Tim was standing seconds before. “Jason!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jason catches up with them.

And they returned just in time too.

“Ma’am!” Aldryn returns with your brothers as soon as you’d been pushed back from the blows. You moved the hair out of your face and caught your breath.

“Good. Aldryn, stay close to the Royal family, tell them I have it under control. If you run into any of the new recruits, tell them they’re on civilian duty,” you instructed. The Daemon roars again and a gust of wind blows behind it. Aldryn runs off.

“So, what do we do? Where are its weak points?” Tim asks.

“Their stomachs, maybe,” you answered.

“Maybe?!” Tim steps back when the Daemon finally takes notice of the group.

“Better a maybe than none,” you looked around.

“Captain! What’s the situation?” Eve appears next to you with the rest of the Brigade stepping out of the portal after. You pointed at the Daemon.

“Only one for now,” you mumbled.

“Holy shit it’s huge,” Nixon swallows harshly. You heard someone scream and your eyes scanned the courtyard. Then, you spotted Lowen cornered by yet another Daemon, noticeably smaller than the other one and with a visible streak of red fur running down from the top of it’s head to the tip of its tail. You hope that didn’t mean anything, nothing bad at least.

“Make it two, you all focus on this one, I’ve got the second!” You slung your rifle over your shoulder and readied your rapier while you ran over to him. “Lowen! Lower your head!” Lowen did so and you used the planter to boost your leverage before burying the rapier into the Daemon’s shoulder. The monster roared and tried to blindly grab at you, but you held your ground, holding your rifle with your other hand while clutching onto the handle of your sword and you pressed it to it’s other shoulder and pulled the trigger. The beast roared again before it grabbed your arm and threw you back where you came. You slid against the ground before slamming into the next planter and you groaned.

“Shake it off, Cap,” Carter pulls you up.

“Oh my god! Your arm!” Tim shouts, tearing his eyes away from the first Daemon for a second. You stand up and pick up your ripped-off arm.

“At least it threw both pieces,” Nixon winces when lightning struck a few paces away from him. You held it in place while the muscles reattached and, while it did, you felt every nerve reconnect and every muscle bind itself back together. The worst of it was to come, the bones were always the last to rebuild. You grit your teeth through the pain and once enough has reconnected you readied your rifle again, confidently holding it in one hand, and you fired it while aiming for the second Daemon’s foot, staggering it long enough for Lowen to scramble back.

“Oh, that is sick and twisted,” Jason looks away, holding his hand over his mouth and you readjusted the previous death grip on your rapier.

“No time for that, focus on the big one,” you ran back toward the second monster and Tim followed you. He dashed past you, stepping in front of Lowen just in time to counter the blow from the Daemon. “Tim! Hold your ground!”

“I’m trying!” Tim tightens his hold on the staff, his knuckles turning white from the pressure alone while Lowen stays frozen beneath him. You slide under the monster, your rapier piercing the Daemons stomach just enough for it to stagger back.

“Eve!”

“Got it!” Eve waves her hand toward your Daemon and in seconds it is held by down by an invisible force, but it fought back, it struggled against its restraints until it broke free and Eve lost her footing. It stood on its feet and locked its aim on you, it foamed at the mouth while it took heavy steps toward you and made grabbing motions toward you. Tim stood at your side all the way, staff now in front of you, when two shots rang out and Jason was next to step in front of you.

“Jay, you can’t take this in a fist fight,” you told him.

“I know,” he says. The beast snorts, looking Jason in the eye. It growls lowly. “Take the kid and go, I got this,” he says. You shook Lowen out of his fear and pulled him to safety. “Alright…” Jason continues his staredown of this monster, and never once did it stop. But there was this strange feeling he got from it, like it was familiar in a sense. Maybe this was what Tim felt earlier. Then, once a few magic circles surrounded it, the monster was debilitated and held in a prison of light.

“Go help the others with the big one,” Eve strains and Jason stares a her.

“You sure you’ve got it?.”

“I’ll manage,” she says while a bead of sweat rolls down the side of her face. She keeps her focus as best as she can, “but that one isn’t going down as quickly as this one did.” She takes deep breaths in attempt to hold it steady between portals, while behind her Nixon’s attacks seemed to deflect off of the bigger monster. Jason spots you running back, this time with your rifle, and you aimed it carefully before taking the shot. The bullet lodged itself into the monster’s shoulder right before it could swing at Nixon, and it stunned it long enough for him to make her escape.

“They’re getting stronger,” you commented. This one was stronger than five of those beasts you’d fought before put together. If it was taking most of the Brigade to subdue it, then that much was true.

~

2010

“Okay, I’ll help you once, alright?” Jason sighed and you grinned.

“Yes!”

“Here, put this on,” he shoves a bag toward you and you nodded excitedly before running out of the room. When you came back, your excitement shone through your mask.

“You can call me the Girl Wonder!” You threw your cape behind you and Jason snickered.

“Whoa, I’m shaking in my boots,” Jason teased and you pouted. “Wait, wait, it’s too big.”

“Of course, it’s too big, this was Dick’s costume right?” You rocked on your heels, and it became more apparent that the shoes were too big too. Jason tosses you your usual sneakers

“Put those on, let me see what I can do,” he walks around you before disappearing for a second and coming back with safety pins, “don’t move, or else I’m gonna poke you,” he adjusts the costume on the shoulders, he didn’t want to make any permanent alterations with something basically historic. 

“You think there’s gonna be a day you and I are fighting bad guys together?” You asked while he pinched up the fabric at your shoulders.

“Who knows, maybe,” Jason shrugged, his words muffled by the safety pins held between his lips.

“That would be cool, Jason and (Y/N), maybe Dick too, right? And dad?”

“Sure,” he feeds into your fantasy. “Only if I’m with you, though. You might trip over your cape.”

“Not true!” Still, Jason finds a way to shorten the cape.

“Yes, true! Look at your floor There’s trash all over it!”

“I’ll pick it up later! Geez!” You argued, but you calmed down just as quickly. “That would be so cool though… I want to be just like you.”

“Nah, you’d be better,” Jason chuckles. “There you go, kiddo,” he tests the stability of it and, once he’s happy with it, he pulls the cape over your shoulders to hide the pins.

“Now what?”

“We go to Titan tower,” Jason gestures for you to follow him.

“Oh, dad says I’m not allowed on that,” you eyed the Robin Motorcycle and Jason rolls his eyes.

“Pssh, it’s fine, you’re with me,” he lifts you and secures you to the seat before climbing on behind you and shoving the helmet onto your head.

“Is this legal?” Your voice was muffled by the helmet.

“Don’t worry about the details!” He starts up the motorcycle.

“Are you wearing a helmet?!” Actually you were wearing his.

“Yeah,” he lied and off you went.

You’d been in the batmobile plenty of times, seen the city in it just as much, but seeing it this way was different. Everything seemed closer, like you could reach out and join whatever scene was there. With the wind blowing around you and your hands firmly grasped onto the bike, this felt amazing! You felt like you were flying, moving faster than even some of the other cars, and every now and then an excited laugh would escape you.

Maybe being a Robin wouldn’t be so bad?

“Alright, kiddo, we’re here,” Jason parks the bike and helps you off. 

“You lied! You’re not wearing a helmet!” You pulled it off of your head and eyed the ‘R’ decal on the side.

“Yup, I did. Anyway, let’s set some ground rules,” Jason kneels so he can look at you in the eye, “you tell no one who you are, yeah? If anyone asks, you’re Robin, okay?”

“Why can’t I say my name?”

“It’s dangerous,” Jason explains, “and when you’re looking for Dick, you ask for Nightwing.”

“Is it also dangerous if they know his name?”

“Yes, very.”

“Okay,” you nodded and followed Jason to the side of the tower. He pulls the vent cover off and crawls in. So… maybe Jason wasn’t exactly allowed in Titan tower after a few misfortunate events that included him losing his cool and his temper. But, what can he do?

Dick really pissed him off.

But, that was beside the point. You wanted to see him, and this was the only way he could help you do that, so fuck it. Plus, with the majority of everyone's identities still being secret, he couldn't have you just waltzing in here anyway without him.

“Follow me.”

“This feels illegal.”

“Shh!”

“Okay, okay!” You followed him carefully and, after some twists and turns, Jason kicked out one of the vents and crawled out, helping you down too. You landed in some kind of lounge area, a large sofa in the middle.

“Wait here, Nightwing should be coming soon, I’ll wait for you outside,” Jason says before leaving the way he came. You sat on the couch, kicking your legs for a bit. Then you started playing with the end of your cape. The material was pretty comfy, actually, you could see yourself falling asleep in it easily. You wondered if Dick ever did. You always liked this costume, actually, it was so different from your dad’s that in some ways you preferred it.

Your brothers were heroes. How cool was that? And your dad was probably the most heroic one of them all, and that was much cooler. If only you could show it off, you were sure everyone would be jealous of you. How often can anyone say that their family are superheroes? Dick always looked so cool in this uniform, and sure he still looks amazing with his new one, but this one? It was different.

Finally after waiting enough you decided to just find him yourself. How hard could it be anyway?

Very hard, apparently.

So you did what any preteen would do and wandered around the tower, he had to be somewhere, right?

Until you landed in the middle of what you assumed to be a training room. It was a spacious room with a kiosk off to the side, and you sat down in the middle, crossing your legs and holding them to your chest. This sucked. And you didn’t even know the way back out to meet Jason to go home. Then, off to the corner of your eye, you saw movement, and you turned your head toward it but… nothing. But you felt the stares, you felt the eyes, and it scared you. You couldn’t call for help, you didn’t know where Dick was and Jason was too far to hear, so you shut your eyes tight and covered your ears. But that never stopped you before.

“Help!” Your voice was loud and immediately you heard a vent clatter to the ground while Jason tumbled out of it, he stood in front of you with one hand up and the other on his belt, ready to pull out a batarang if needed.

“Stop! We’re not intruders!” He shouts.

“Relax, everyone,” Dick’s voice was firm while he held a fist up to stop all movements, and, slowly the Titans back off. Dick eyed Jason and gestured for him to move over before he approached you slowly, crouching down as soon as he was close enough. And he felt his heart tighten. He knew it was you as soon as he’d seen you, but to see you in that? His old uniform? That old thing that had been ripped apart after many battles and had been stained with blood many a time… To see you wearing it was almost wrong. The little girl who cried whenever her brothers had scratches, the one who called for help for the smallest of things, to think that you could be a Robin almost ripped him apart, he didn’t want you to go through any of what he did, any of what Jason did. Hell, you just called for help right now and this is probably one of the safest places you could be.

Jason, only he could’ve put you up to this, and he made his intent clear from the quick glare he shot him, but Jason replied by whistling and rolling his eyes. Dick only sighed and reached out to rub your head. You removed your hands just enough to peer over them, and once you’d seen him, your frown deepened and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight, and he held you back. You missed him, a lot. 

“False alarm, everyone, she’s my sister,” he rubs your back gently before rising up and, once you’d looked around, you saw the other members of the Titans that Dick was always talking about. “And you,” he looks at Jason, “we’ll talk later, wait outside for her and I’ll bring her out,” he says. Jason doesn’t fight it, he just nods and leaves the room, looking back to see you watching him go.

“He’s not in trouble is he?” You tugged at Dick’s arm to get his attention. “It was my idea to come here…” you muttered. Before Dick could respond, you were surrounded by excited voices. And you recognized all of them, you’d seen them plenty of times on your dad’s big computer alongside the other heroes.

“Whoa, Nightwing! You have a younger sister?” Garfield was the first to approach you, looking at you closely as if trying to find any similarities between the two of you.

“Yeah, adoptive,” he explains, ushering you forward. 

“What a cute little girl!” Starfire pinches your cheeks and you let her, feeling the warmth from her hands radiate into your face as she did so and you didn’t hate it, “have you come to visit your brother?”

“Yeah,” your voice was slightly stifled.

“Good, take him home with you, he needs a break,” Starfire grins.

“Come on, Star, there’s too much work to do here,” he shakes his head. 

“Now, what’s your name? You got a cool one too?” Garfield asks and Dick clears his throat before you could answer.

“Obviously, we can’t tell you her name, but you can just call her Robin while she’s here.”

“That’s a little confusing with the other Robin,” Raven mutters.

“But the other Robin isn’t here right now,” Wally answers. 

“Alright, how about Little Wing, then?” Dick tosses out the nickname he had for you and your eyes lit up.

“Cool!” Wally zips over to you. “You really a Robin?” You shook your head. “Whoa, I was about to say…”

“Alright, alright, let’s not crowd her, okay?” Dick pushes you slightly behind him now, “you guys filter out, I’ll talk with her for a bit, I think I know why she’s here,” Dick wears a knowing smile, and the others groan but leave anyway, leaving you and Dick in the training room.

“So, Little Wing, what brings you all the way here from Gotham?” He sits down and crosses his legs, and you sit next to him.

“I just wanted to visit, is all…” you muttered.

“Oh, yeah?”

“You’re never home anymore…” you mumbled. Dick sighs.

“Yeah… yeah,” he nods, “the team needs me here.”

“But I need you there,” you replied. A small frown settles on Dick’s face.

“I know, I can’t come home right now, (Y/N),” he says while listening for unwanted ears, “but, hey, you still have Robin.”

“He’s still rude!” You shout. “He’s not like you, whenever I ask to do stuff with him all he does is complain, he can be so mean sometimes!” You grumbled.

“Mean? He took you all the way here, didn’t he?” Dick leans back on his palms and you huffed.

“I guess… but that’s probably because I keep complaining about how you’re not around anymore,” you pout.

“And he still does all those things with you even though he complains, right?”

“Yeah,” you looked to the side.

“Heck, even when you called for help that kid came tumbling down, I’m sure you hurt his feelings every time you call him mean.”

“Do I really?” Your voice was small. You hadn’t really considered it before. You and Jason had a tendency to argue, and maybe say a few mean things to each other every now and then, but you never once thought that you hurt his feelings during. “I guess he’s not so bad…”

“Looks like I got a worthy replacement then,” he claps your shoulder and you frowned again while shifting slightly away from him.

“Why aren’t you ever home anymore?” Dick doesn’t answer. “Is it dad? Did you two get in a fight?”

“Something like that,” Dick sighs. “But, you’re right, just because he and I are fighting doesn’t mean I should ignore you,” he rubs your hair playfully and you smiled. “I’ll carve out some time for you too, I can’t have Robin stealing all my thunder, right?” He smiles and you nodded your head.

“Promise?”

“Sibling's promise," he smiles.

~

2022

“Move!” You pushed Nixon out of the way just in time for the Daemon’s arm to hammer down on top of you. You barely dodged in time, the beast’s arm just grazing you before it slammed against the ground and cracked the concrete beneath it. You pierced your blade into the beast’s stomach and it roared above you. “Shit, not enough,” you pulled back, but the beast grabbed onto you. “Shit!” You repeated and the beast opened its maw wide before it came biting down over your shoulder, its teeth digging into your neck, back, and chest. Your scream was near primal, feeling every single piece of you rip and sew itself back together.

“Captain!” Eve’s shriek could be heard from anywhere. 

“(Y/N)!” And only Jason’s could have rivaled it. You heard successive rounds fired out and you knew they hit their target, but it couldn’t have been enough to fell this beast. Shurikens embedded themselves into the daemon’s body before you saw the staff flung toward it. But the beast only caught it in its hands and tossed it to the ground. You thrashed against the monster, you were too close to use your rifle and too busy to make your rapier be of any use aside from a handle. You grabbed onto the monster’s face, trying to pry it off of you, but it just bit down harder, pulling out yet another pained scream from you. Tim found a way to get on top of the beast and, holding Carter’s sword, he plunged the sword into the beast’s neck, but all it did was anger it further, and it shook you side to side like a dog would a toy, and your screams became garbled from the harsh movements. Tim was thrown to the ground in time for Jason to step forward and aim for the more vital parts of the beast.

But it wasn’t enough.

And you began to resort to more grotesque techniques to survive. So, with mangled limbs, you grabbed onto the beast’s ears and pushed back with all your might until you started to feel the flesh rip. Then another roar is heard. You turned your head to its source, right in front of the Barracks, and you felt an intense wave of dread.

It escaped.

The previously captured Daemon breathed heavily, chain collar around it’s neck and broken shackles on each limb. It was looking at you.

Sure, you could reattach. But, hypothetically, if you were ripped apart just enough, to the point that there was no base body to even reattach to, then this might be the end for you.

But that wasn’t fair. You couldn’t die yet, not in front of them. You were just barely able to catch a glimpse of Jason, the only one turned toward you, and it killed you, the way he looked. You couldn’t even imagine Tim. Thank god you sent Damian away.

“Oh, fuck,” Nixon charged toward it, but the daemon bent down on it’s hind legs before leaping across the air and toward you. It landed with a loud thud, shaking the ground temporarily before charging toward you and the daemon that was still trying to gnaw you in half.

You winced when the daemon locked its jaw on you, and you prepared yourself for impact, but instead, the chained Daemon bit onto the larger one’s neck and ripped it off of you. You fell to the ground, panting heavily and with no strength to get it up, but you were able to turn your head just enough to see the fight. It was gruesome.

“(Y/N), holy shit,” Jason helps you sit up, his hands red with the blood from your back. You brought your one good hand to your head and tried to stop the ringing in your ears through sheer will. Jason waved a hand in front of you. “How many fingers?”

“Three,” your eyes were slowly focusing again. You looked down at your chest.

It wasn’t reattaching. Not fast, at least.

“Are they fighting?” Carter runs up next to you, eyeing the bite wound before looking at the two beasts.

“Yeah, where’s Alex?” You were still catching your breath.

“Calling for help, again,” Carter looks around. “Eve’s getting medical supplies and Nixon’s watching the other one.”

“Okay,” you coughed up blood and you kept your head turned low. You couldn’t look at Jason. You didn’t want to know what kind of expression he had on his face right now. And you couldn’t let Tim see you this way either.

“(Y/N)! Let me see it,” Tim falls in front of you, looking at the damage, but his hands were shaking. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he says. “It was me, I saw it and got curious, I must have weakened the defense somehow,” Tim mumbles.

“Don’t,” you shook your head and looked past him, toward the fight. “They’re fighting each other… but why?” Your breathing was labored.

“Save your energy, kid.” You just realized that Jason has been supporting you this whole time. You watched the chained daemon grab onto the electric one, holding both of its arms before ripping one off entirely.

“Holy fuck,” it was like you were watching a massacre. And when the chained daemon bit down on the other for the last time, it closed its jaw completely over the other’s neck. Slowly, it rose again, opening its jaw to let the blood of its felled opponent spill out, and then it turned to you. Instinctively, you tried to push back, but Jason held you in place. His gaze was as locked upon it as it was to you.

The daemon approached the group slowly, its eyes menacing and its jaw hung open, but its steps were slow and maybe casual. Its ears folded down and as it closed the distance its eyes seemed to soften. Before it finally stood above you, everyone held still by your weakened fist in the air, ready to signal an attack at any moment. But nothing happened, it just stood there.

And then it looked at Tim.

You were already confused about why it seemed responsive to you, but to Tim too?

“Tim,” your voice was weak.

“Yeah?” He didn’t break eye contact with the beast.

“Around its neck are a pair of dog tags, read it for me.”

“Okay…” Tim reached his hand out slowly. And the beast, as if understanding, turned its head up to allow the tags to be seen better. “CK-78.”

“Does it mean anything to you?” You asked. Blood was still pooling out of the bite marks across your torso.

Tim’s eyes narrowed on the dogtags, and then he looked up at the daemon’s eye. Strange, it was as if it was begging Tim to get it. To figure out the mystery behind it.

While Tim did so, Eve returned, holding the first aid kit and kneeling next to you.

“I got it,” Jason took the bandages. He knew a thing or two about field patching, he’d say. He wrapped it around your body a couple of times after packing the larger wounds, it’ll do for now, but you’d have to get the seen by a professional later.

Look at this.

His worst nightmare.

During his time as a Robin, there was a reoccurring nightmare he’d always have.

It would start out as normal, it was one of those dreams that felt so real that he wouldn’t think twice. He’d pick you up from academy, you’d do whatever you felt like doing, and on your way home you’d be interrupted by one of the bastards who had Batman and Robin on their hit list. They would fight. And Jason would be so busy beating the shit out of them that he wouldn’t realize the mortal wounds you had. And when he would clean you up, when he would stop the bleeding any way he knew how, you would look away from him, and you wouldn’t say anything.

He would always wake up in a cold sweat after that, comforted by the fact that it was a nightmare.

Except now wasn’t that, it was real. It was so real that you were bleeding through your bandages, and you were holding your head from the blood loss, no doubt seeing the world spin, and you weren't looking at him.

“What happened?!” Damian came back too late, seeing you on the ground. It was his turn to sit in front of you. “Sister? Sister!” Damian held your face in his hands. But your eyes had glazed over. Your breaths were shallow, and your head heavy.

You were so tired.

Your eyelids slipped shut and the last thing you felt was Damian shaking you.

~

2014

You watched silently while Dick went through his normal workout routine. You were more disinterested, if anything, sure it was cool at first but now it was just a wasted three hours of your day. But, you needed to ask him something, in fact that was why you’d been staying with him for the past week, one part of it was that it was this odd request of yours and the other part of it was that you just didn’t want to be home. It was so suffocating in the mansion, so quiet, and so…

Lonely.

“What’s up, little wing?” Dick pulled you out of your thoughts. He wiped the sweat off his neck with a towel and started shoving the weights back into their original places. “You’ve been staring at me for a while now.”

“Have I? Sorry, it wasn’t creepy was it?”

“It was a little creepy,” he chuckled. “But… I know I look good,” he nudges you playfully.

“Shut up, you’re gross,” you made a fake gagging sound and leaned back against the wall, being sure to avert your gaze this time.

“Is… everything alright?” He asks as if testing the waters. You didn’t blame him, to be fair. Since you’d arrived, you hadn’t mentioned his name once.

“Everything’s fine,” you shrugged. Dick sits next to you now, picking up his water bottle along the way and taking a deep breath.

“I know it’s hard but… he’s my brother too.” That got you. You leaned forward with your elbows on your knees and you buried your face in your hands. “It’s okay to grieve,” he says. It’s already been a year.

“But what if I don’t want to?” Your voice was muffled. “Me grieving is like me accepting that he’s dead, but he can’t be, right? Dad wouldn’t have let him die, right?” Your questions would go unanswered, instead, you felt Dick place a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Everyone… everyone has to go eventually,” Dick says carefully.

“Why did it have to be him, though?” Your tears spilled out of your hands now. You never really thought of how deadly your family’s jobs were. They were just always so prepared, so ready for any possible thing that could go wrong, until they weren’t. “I… I’ve been watching Tim train to be Robin, and it got me thinking about what he asked me before…” your voice trailed after being interrupted by hiccups, and Dick just rubbed your upper back the whole time, waiting patiently for you to finish. You took a deep breath. “Tim asked me… to become the next Robin, originally. But I said no, and now he’s training instead. But… you know he’s so bright, he can do anything he wants and instead, because I chickened out, he’s training to be a vigilante.” Dick didn’t say anything. “But you know me and how I feel about what you all do.”

“I do.”

“I just… it’s not…” you paused. “Could I even do it?” You turned to him now. Dick, though, turned away from you with his focus on his hands. They were grasping onto each other tight with the knuckles turning white. “Dick?”

“What do you think, (Y/N)?” He asks. “If you came here to ask me to make that decision for you, I won’t. You know as well as I do what being a Robin means.”

“But he’s just so… young, Dick. I never realized how young you both were when you started, but now when I watch Tim I can’t help but worry.”

“Hell, you should’ve seen us then,” Dick laughs quietly. There’s no way you could know his thoughts right now. He who might have been the reason why you were so averted to vigilante business to begin with, he did everything he possibly could to keep you separate from it and now here you were, asking him if you should become a Robin. It was one of his worst nightmares, actually. There have been many a time he thought if becoming a vigilante was the right way to cope, he thought he was becoming a hero, but really he at first became a soldier. He couldn’t see you become like that. You who was probably the only thing keeping both him and Bruce grounded, imagine if they lost that, imagine if you lost that.

“But doesn’t it make sense though, Dick? If I became a Robin?”

“Well… yeah,” he nods his head absently, “but is that what you want to do?” You thought for a moment. The toll vigilante work took on your dad, the childhood it took from Dick, the life it took from Jason, and the time it was taking from Tim, could you shoulder that?

“I came here for two reasons,” you said instead, “one was to get out of that house. No one’s ever home anymore,” you muttered.

“And the second?”

“I was going to ask you to train me,” you admitted bashfully. “But I don’t think I was ever cut out for vigilante work, I don’t have the same resolve you and… he did,” you took a deep breath. “What exactly did you two fight about for Jason to have been banned from the Titan tower, Dick?”

“…” he didn’t answer for a while. But you knew that look on his face, he was thinking, and very hard at that too. “He wanted to train you,” he says, “he wanted to have the both of us train you. Have you learn the basics of being a Robin just in case… just in case neither of us could’ve gotten to you in time.” Your face grew more serious. “And I said ‘no.’”

“Why?”

“At that time, when you were twelve, did you want to be a Robin?” He asks. You thought about it for a while.

“Yes, I thought I could be a Robin,” you nodded.

“And now?” He waits for your answer.

“I… I don’t know. But, was the fight really all that bad for him to get banned?”

“You don’t understand, (Y/N),” Dick shook his head. “No one knows the price of being a Robin more than we did. You know, no matter how old you get, you’re still our little sister, I don't know what I'd do if even half the shit that happened to me happened to you,” he nudges you. “We didn’t see eye-to-eye on that and, well, I already disagreed with how he treated the mantle too, so I won’t lie and I tell you we started off on a good page,” he says. “And when it came to you, what to do with you and how to take care of you, we either agreed with each other entirely or were at odds, there was no in-between,” Dick rolled his eyes, thinking back to the arguments between the two.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we just never did it in front of you, obviously,” Dick says. “You know us well, (Y/N). Take you being in danger. If it was up to me you’d never be in a dangerous situation to begin with, so I hope you never held it against me when I told you to stay behind.”

“I did.”

“I know,” Dick nods. “You do this thing where you’d take a deep breath and close your eyes and that’s how we’d know you’re upset,” he laughs and you broke a smile. “But Jason? Phew. To him, as long as you were within an arm’s distance, you were never in danger, and that was pretty much true from how I’d see him with you,” Dick shakes his head.

“Well… yeah, it’s the same with you, right?” You asked.

“Of course! But, also, not necessarily,” he shakes his head again. “It’s happened enough times before, I would just pull you out of a situation before things got too heated. Jason, though, would throw himself in front of you if it meant keeping you safe, he was always reckless like that,” he says. And look where it got him. “Like that time you first visited me at the Tower, oh my god, I almost popped a vein when I heard how you got there,” Dick exaggerates his words with his hands. “The Robin Cycle?! Seriously?! God, so much could have gone wrong, and, oh my god, you were in the vents!” Dick started rambling and you started laughing. “He’s actually crazy to think that would’ve been okay,” Dick runs a hand through his hair and you settled down.

“I had so much fun that day,” your smile fell into a softer one, “I remember thinking that I was just like you guys…” Dick nods solemnly.

"That's... If there was one thing Jason and I always agreed on, it was that we wanted you to be better than we could ever be. For me, that was making your own choices free from a legacy, and for Jason that was being more prepared than he ever was," Dick says before taking a deep breath. “Sometimes I forget we were that same age when we started,” Dick says.

“Exactly,” you sighed.

“The only difference was that Jason and I were insanely traumatized, and you weren’t,” he chuckles and you shifted uncomfortably.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” your arms rested over your knees. “You and Jason were these self-made heroes, and I was the spoiled rich kid brat who thought it would’ve been easy.”

“Spoiled? Yeah. Brat? Nah,” Dick laughs.

“Hey!”

“Hey you! Whatever you wanted we got you!”

“Okay, well that was your choice,” you defended yourself.

“True,” Dick concedes. But then his smile falls. “We used to talk about it. (Y/N),” the tone shifts again, “it’s not that we think you couldn’t handle being a vigilante, anyone can take on the mantle, it’s whether or not you’d be best utilized for that mantle. You have so many other strengths that Jason and I don’t have, you know you kept us grounded so many times when all we wanted to do was fly,” Dick says. “There are days where we almost went too far, I think, and every time there you were to help us back down,” he continues, but then he stops. “If you want to be a Robin, then I’ll help you, but you need to find someone who can be your grounder too. That hopeful humanity you have is what makes you such a vital part to our team, and I’m just afraid that becoming Robin will change that,” he finishes. You held on to every word.

Robin, what did it really stand for? It wasn’t just Batman’s sidekick, it was a symbol as much as Batman was. A symbol of hope for some, the hope that came after vengeance.

And here you were, wanting to become a Robin just to hunt down the Joker.

You couldn’t tell that to Dick.

But it made you so upset. The Joker killed your brother and your father hasn’t done anything about him, hell, you were just reading an article about how Joker and Batman had a showdown and still your father let him go. Wasn’t your father angry at all? Didn’t he feel some kind of guilt or sympathy for Jason?

“(Y/N), I know what you’re thinking, I can see it in your eyes,” Dick says. “But Bruce… Bruce has his own way of grieving too. We don’t have to understand it, it’s not like he’d tell us anyway, but just like how you came to me, Bruce went to someone else,” Dick explains.

“He’s my own dad, and I feel like you know him better than I ever will.”

“I am older than you,” he nudges you softly.

“I just wish he came to us,” you mumbled. “He thinks he’s so alone sometimes, and I feel it,” you held onto your chest and rubbed it softly with the ball of your hand. “I feel like I don’t know him anymore, Dick, I don’t know how to talk to my own dad.”

“Just start small, he’s grieving too.”

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Dick,” your hands went to your arms now. “Don’t tell him this, okay?” You looked at him, your eyes wide with a hint of… something, something Dick didn’t want to admit.

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Sibling secret,” he makes a zipper motion with his mouth. You moved so that you were facing him a little more.

“When he came home the other night, Tim was already in bed and I was about to go too, but you know I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately, and my therapist recommended tea. I figured dad would want some too, he usually does after late-night patrols, so I made some for him and brought it down to the cave. I was originally just going to leave it there, but he was already sitting down in front of the batcomputer… I didn’t even hear him come in,” you started. “And when I placed the mug down, he turned to look at me so fast that I almost fell back, and…” you hesitated, but Dick was listening very carefully, “he threw one of those batarangs of his. He threw it towards me and he missed, but,” your hand ghosted over your cheek, where the shallow cut was long before, “I know he didn’t mean to, he’d been on edge ever since what happened but… he scared me, Dick. The way he looked at me, it scared me so much I couldn’t move,” your hands were trembling, they were trembling so much you clasped your hands together to stop them, but they didn’t, “I’ve never been afraid of dad before but that night was different. I couldn’t say anything to him, I just dropped the mug off and ran back upstairs.”

“Did he do that?” Dick was in disbelief. You nodded your head, the image still clear in your mind.

“The next morning he apologized but… I didn’t think I’d ever be in that situation to begin with. I know, I know ever since what happened with Jason he’s been so guarded, so I’m not holding it against him but…” you trailed off. You were so scared that night. “I know it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t, you’re right,” he says. “Maybe…” he hesitates. “Maybe I’ll drop by a bit more, I know Tim’s been training, but maybe it’ll help more if a former Robin helped him out,” Dick says. Your expression seemed to perk up at this.

“You’re coming home?”

“Just visiting,” he says. “Might do Tim some good to have someone other than Alfred and Bruce, right?” He rolls his shoulders out. “Plus, I can tell you miss me,” he nudges your shoulder and you rolled your eyes again.

“I always miss you guys,” you waved it off.

“Aww, oh my god! My sister misses me?” Dick exaggerates and you groan.

“Don’t you dare make me regret coming here!”

“Oh, I am so touched, I could cry,” Dick hides his eyes with his hand before separating his fingers just enough to see your deadpan expression. You shook your head and stood up.

“Thanks, Dick, for hearing me out,” you wiped your palms on your thighs.

“Of course, anything for you, (Y/N),” he smiles.

“I don’t want to bother you anymore-”

“Whoa! You’re leaving already? Let me treat you out first, you came all the way here to Blüdhaven, I can’t let you go home on an empty stomach,” Dick jumps up and walks ahead of you.

“No, it’s okay!”

“(Y/N), Alfred would kill me,” Dick looks back with an inflated look of despair and you laughed.

“You’re right, you’re right, fine! But I get to choose!”

“Keeping up the spoiled persona, I get you.”

"Dick! You're such a..." you stopped yourself and Dick waited with expectant eyes for the punchline. "I'm not gonna say it."

"It was worth a shot," Dick waits for you to catch up and you both left together.

~

2022

You’re in the manor, but you knew, not really. The details were fuzzy, faceless paintings repeated themselves, and hallways seemed longer than usual. Every time you turned a wrong corner the hallway would loop until you realized that you had to turn around.

This was a dream.

Ever since you’d come to this new Earth, you had this uncanny ability of lucid dreaming. Or, at the very least, you were very conscious in your dreams. You always remembered them after too. But naught without cost. You either had a dreamless night, or you had relentless nightmares. You were already mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to see. If you were in the manor then, you already know, this one would be tough. And it seemed that your dream was guiding you into the foyer, and it landed you in front of the infamous bookcase. You pulled the bust’s head back and pressed the button, watching the bookcase slide forward and to the side. The staircase down was dark, near infinite. You took a deep breath and took a step closer to it.

“(Y/N)? You’re not allowed down there,” you heard a voice behind you say. You turned around and saw a much younger Dick Grayson.

“Why not?”

“It’s dangerous.” He says.

“Why don’t you come with me then?” You caught your reflection on the glass case next to you. You were so little. Your cheeks round with baby fat and your hair tied into twin tails. This was going to be rough.

“I… I wouldn’t be enough, just stay up here, okay? Let’s play a game,” he pulls out a Monopoly set and you shook your head.

“Sorry, Dick, I just want to be done with this.” You shook your head and walked into the darkness, feeling the chill of fear run through you with every step. And finally you reached the bottom, and the cave illuminated. You could hear someone typing on the keyboard. “Dad?” You called out to him and the clacking stopped. You walked further into the cave, until you could see the batcomputer and the looming figure of the Batman sitting in front of it. “I didn’t hear you come home,” you waited for his response. And there was none. “Dad?” You chanced it again. And the Batman turned quickly on the chair.

You were afraid.

You felt your heart pumping and the blood rushing through your veins. That wasn’t your father, no, it was a daemon in the Batsuit, how fucking fitting. And you screamed, you called for help, and you wanted to fall to the ground and cover your ears with how the daemon roared. And when it fell to the ground and started clawing its way toward you it just felt so real, it felt so real that you could feel the tears streaming down your face and your burning throat.

“(Y/N)! Get away!” Your dad. You felt someone pull you back with such force that you nearly flew at that size. And you watched the two Batmen fighting. One, your father, and the other a daemon. 

“You!” Another voice now. You were knocked to the ground and you saw… you. She pinned you down with a crazed look in her eyes. “You took everything from me,” her voice dripped with venom and you looked away. She wrapped her hands around your throat and pressed her thumbs against your windpipe. “I’ll kill you.” You gasped for air now and she throttled you. “Give it back. Give it back to me!” You shook your head, and you shut your eyes, trying every trick in the book to wake up. You bit your tongue, you gnawed on your hands, and you even tried doing simple math until finally you shot up from bed.

Taking deep breaths, you clutched onto your heart. Your wounds had been cleaned and bandaged. You looked around the med bay and you wiped the cold sweat from your head. You looked to the side, spotting the scattered tools, and you grabbed the scalpel. You took more deep breaths, the world at your peripherals still fuzzy, and you plunged it into your hand just to be sure you’d woken up and soon you heard a shout next to you.

“Are you crazy?! Give me that!” Jason tugged the scalpel out of your hand and chucked it toward the other side of the room. It looks like he had just woken up too. He slumped back on the chair next to your bed and took deep breaths.

“Jason, what happened?” You watched your hand reattach. Back to normal.

“What happened? You almost got ripped apart, that’s what happened,” he points at your bandages.

“I mean after, Jay.”

“Oh, well,” he shakes the shock off, “after you passed out, Alex came back and helped that other girl wheel you over here to get you patched up. Tim went with Mary, I think her name was, and they started doing stuff with the monster to see why it reacted that way.”

“And Damian?” Jason points at the other side of your bed and you turned your head toward it. Damian had fallen asleep next to you, head resting on his arms that were crossed over the edge of the bed. Wordlessly, you rubbed his hair gently and you turned to Jason. “Talk about a warm welcome,” you repeated. Jason didn’t answer, he was looking down at your hand. “You’re right. It is sick and twisted.” Your hand looked like nothing had happened to it. “Looks like I never stabbed it all, huh?” Your voice was quiet, so as not to wake Damian.

“But those are still there,” he looked at the healed over that encircled your whole wrist.

Your hands were the first to go that night.

You rubbed it softly.

“I don’t like thinking about it.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“I still have nightmares about it,” you tugged the hospital gown up, as if it would hide the scar that encircled your neck. It didn’t.

“Was that the one you had just now?”

“No, that one was… fairly new,” you thought back to it. It wasn’t the first time you’d been attacked by yourself. You figured it was some crazy dream symbolism thing that said you were at odds with yourself, but you weren’t so sure. Jason didn’t need to know about it. “It’s fine,” you shook your head.

“Oh, Captain, you’re up,” the nurse walks in with a clipboard in hand. “That was a nasty bite you had there, but I suspect it’s all been reattached by now, right?” You touched your chest. All good. You nodded your head and the nurse beamed. “Excellent, then, you’d been resting for a while so you should be able to get back to work soon?”

“How long have I been out?”

“It’s been a couple of days, Captain. Sir Grant will drop by and hand you the paperwork you’ve missed.”

“It can’t be that much, can it?” You asked. The nurse just smiles.

“Dr. Bronte ordered you to remain on bed rest for the week, he was very adamant about it,” she says. “So, unfortunately, nothing but paperwork.”

“What?! He knows I reattach, right?!” You shot up from bed and she ushers you back down.

“Yes, of course, but it’s still his orders,” she says. You groaned.

“I see, thank you,” you dismissed her and she saluted before leaving the room.

“So… Captain, huh?” Jason makes conversation. “You have to tell me about that,” he crosses his ankle over his knee and you shook your head with a slight smile.

“It’s boring.”

“Well, not like you’re going anywhere.”

“Rude!”

“I’m serious! I wanna know what you’ve been up to! I thought you hated being a leader.”

“I do.”

“So… why Captain?”

“God, everyone else is incomptent,” you rolled your eyes and Jason laughed.

“That’s more like you, tell me from the beginning.”

“Ugh… well…” You looked up at the ceiling, thinking of where to start. “When I woke up here I was so lost. I was lucky enough to have been brought in by good people, and they showed me how this world worked, but I knew I had to repay them somehow. Luckily for me, one of them was the previous Captain, so he let me train under him and now I’m here. That’s the shortened version,” you explained.

“What? Boring, give me the good one.”

“You’re so annoying!”

“Sure, yeah, now tell me about people you beefed with.”

“Fine.”

~

2015

You were worried sick, and you stayed up late to wait for your father and Tim to come home, they told you they’d be back in the morning, and now it was nearing midnight, their comms were turned off and their locations unknown, Babs was going near crazy trying to locate them and here you were, waiting in the Batcave like it would do something.

“Dick, what do you think?” You chewed on the tip of your thumb. Your older brother stood by the computer, trying to do anything to locate anything.

“I might send the Titans in after them if they’re not back,” he says. You stood up and looked at the screen. Tim had only recently been inducted in as a Robin, after months and months of training, he finally made it, and this was his first big break mission with your father after he’d saved the others from Two-Face, the first time he was entrusted with an actual mission aside from the Gotham patrols. But… you were worried.

Then, finally, you heard the telltale sign of the plane landing, and you and Dick were quick to run over. Your father emerged first and soon after…

“Tim?” You stepped forward to see him better and… You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, it was the only thing louder than the ringing. There was blood, a lot of it, it caked around his face and on his uniform, and it left footprints where he walked. He spotted you, forcing a smile and a wave.

But the world around you dulled. All conversation was muted to you. Your vision tunneled on Tim, and for some reason all you could see was Jason, head split open by a crowbar and blood pooled around him like you’d seen in all your nightmares, and when you’d blink he’d go back to Tim, bloodied. Then you’d blink again, Jason, you’d blink, Tim. What was this ringing? This fear you felt in your heart? Couldn’t your father have helped clean him up a little on his way here? Couldn’t he have dressed those wounds better? Was the blood even his?

“(Y/N)?” Tim was closer now, you noticed him nursing his side, the wound messily dressed and barely doing the job. You looked at your father.

“Oh, Tim,” your hands rest on his shoulders gently, while you tried to assess the damage. “What happened?” You asked carefully.

“It was rough,” your father shook his head. “Too many variables we didn’t account for, we won’t make that mistake again.”

“Too many variables? Enough to leave Tim like this?” You looked at him. “Let me see it,” you looked at his side.

“It’s okay,” Tim shakes his head.

“Show me,” you insisted. Tim only nodded, removing his hand just enough so you could see the scar through the cut-open uniform. Go figure, the Robin uniform wasn’t fit for a jungle. You looked at your father again, who was looking at Tim. “What happened?”

“Mutated animals, we’re still investigating it, we’ll return in the morning,” he responds.

“In the morning? Look at him! He’s barely holding himself together!” You argued. “Take Dick with you! Tim needs to rest.”

“(Y/N),” Dick spoke up, or had he been speaking?

“He’s fine, (Y/N), we all cleared him for Robin work, this is just collateral,” your father answers.

“Just collateral? He’s not a business, he’s Tim fucking Drake!” You stepped in front of Tim now. “Do you want to go back there?” You looked at him, and he shrank in his shoes. Tim only shook his head, clearly still shaken from the events.

“He’s a Robin, he wanted to be a Robin, trained for it, and now he is it,” Batman argues.

“Christ, dad, he’s thirteen!” You shout.

“Dick was eleven!”

“And look where that got him! He resents you!” You looked to Dick, who sighed and shook his head. He couldn’t answer, because what you said had some truth to it. Everyone knew it.

“Jason was—”

“Jason is dead!” You cut him off, your hands balled at your sides and your throat strained, there was a tense silence in the cave now. “You killed my brother! You killed him and you didn’t even grieve like a normal person, I had to hear from Tim that you were ripping people apart in the ports! That’s horrifying, dad! Why… why are you repeating what happened with Jason?!”

“Take that back!” Batman’s voice rose in a way no one ever heard before.

“And what will you do if Tim is gone? Are you going to go on a killing spree?” You felt like pulling your hair out. “Jason’s gone and you haven’t done shit about it!”

“I’ve done everything to avenge him!”

“Everything to avenge but none to honor!” You stood up taller now, and you looked the Batman in his eye. “The Joker still runs wild, and all you’ve done is train his replacement.”

“You know nothing about what I do for this city!”

“And I don’t want to be part of it,” you could feel your throat burning. “Look at Tim! He could be dead right now and you wouldn’t do anything about it, you said it yourself, it’s just collateral,” you turned his words on him and Batman stepped forward. You stepped back. 

“Death… death is part of the job,” Batman responds and your shoulders slumped.

“God… are you even my father when you put that mask on?” You tried to step back, hoping you’d see at least some of your dad in him, but nothing. “If death is so okay with you then I don’t want to be next in line. I will never be a vigilante.”

“What did you say?” Batman spoke up.

“You…” You’re a monster. You couldn’t find it in yourself to say it. “I will never be a vigilante, I want nothing to do with this Batman circus act, especially if you’re so okay with your kids being near killed,” you were running your mouth now, saying everything that came to mind. You just couldn’t think straight, how the hell did your older brothers do it? You would scrape a knee and they’d raise hell, now Tim comes home bleeding head to toe and you want to throttle whoever did this to him. “I don’t know who you even are, anymore, but the Batman I idolized would have never put his sons in these kinds of situations!”

“You don’t know me!”

“I don’t anymore!”

“Don’t pretend you understand this line of business!”

“I’m not! I don’t understand being a vigilante at all!”

“You’ve lived with us your whole life and you still don’t understand?! Gotham needs us!”

“You’re right, Gotham needs you! Not some remote island with mutated animals! Jesus, you could’ve at least given Tim some actual gear!”

“We didn’t account for monsters thrice our size!”

“And you didn’t think to regroup and plan that shit out?!”

“Watch your language!”

“Fuck my language, Tim’s barely together!”

“You’re acting like you know him so well.”

“And you do?! You really think any normal thirteen-year-old would be okay with getting their shit beat out of them!”

“He chose this.”

“He doesn’t have to get ripped apart because of it!”

“You are making a big deal out of—”

“I just don’t want to lose another brother!” Your voice echoed in the cave. You looked back to Tim, whose hands were over his ears now and his eyes shut closed. His bloodied hands dripped down his face and you shook your head, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping most of it from his face. Tim’s eyes opened slowly and his hands moved away so you could clean up at least that much, at least enough to stop seeing the worst possible outcome. And though you felt a rage like none other, you kept your hands steady, you kept them gentle, just enough to try to calm Tim down without saying anything that would make him more scared. 

“Why do you even bother, (Y/N)?” You heard Batman speak behind you, and before you could turn back to him, Dick took your shoulders and pushed you away.

“Let’s go, you need to cool off,” he says quietly.

“I need to help Tim!”

“Alfred will help him.”

“In that case someone has to pull Batman back to reality!” You tried to shrug Dick off, but his grip was firm. “Let go, Dick! Don’t pretend you don’t agree with me!”

“Let’s take a walk, (Y/N),” he insists, urging you out of the cave.

“Am I so wrong, Dick?!”

“Let’s go,” he keeps ushering you, “I’ll deal with Bruce.”

“You’ll deal with him?” You pushed away from him, you were just steps away from the outside. “Oh! Right! You’ll deal with him… the prodigal son,” you huffed. “Go figure, the kid he listens to is the one he chose and not the one he had,” you snarked and Dick’s expression steeled.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“But it’s exactly that and you know it,” you shot back. “When dad found out I was a weak kid he picked you up instead to train as his protege.”

“That’s not how it happened and you know it!”

“Try all you want to escape him, you never will.” Dick clenches his jaw, holding back something that probably, no, definitely would’ve destroyed your relationship, and he took a deep breath.

“Let’s go,” his voice was softer as he ushers you out again and you both take a step into the cold. “Take a deep breath, (Y/N).” You did so. Both of you were quiet, looking over the cliffside.

“I’m sorry, Dick,” you said quietly, your voice just barely over the sound of waves hitting the rock around you.

“It’s fine, you’re mad, I get it,” Dick nods. “You never get mad, this is just all that pent-up anger.”

“Yeah…” you took a deep breath again. “How the hell did you two do it?” You asked him. Dick shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Do what?”

“All of it.”

“You know, we came home much worse before.”

“But I never saw it.”

“We didn’t let you.”

“I was so young at the time, I get it.”

“You’re still young now.”

“And he’s younger.” Dick didn’t respond.

“Being a vigilante… it’s not easy work, (Y/N),” he says. “We get battered, bruised, and beaten, but we do it for a good cause. If we don’t do it, then who will?” He asks.

“I know, I understand it when you say it, but I can’t understand him,” you looked at him.

“And I respect that, I do,” Dick nods.

“Who even is he, anymore?” You looked away from him. Again, Dick didn’t respond.

“You were pretty harsh in there, (Y/N),” he says.

“Was I?”

“Jason would be proud,” Dick laughs. You didn’t. “You know Bruce is… he’s on his own train, and we’re just a couple cars behind him,” Dick says. “He has his own way of doing things, he cares in his own way, too. You know he wouldn’t let Tim die, he’s not going to put him in a situation he knew he wouldn’t be able to save him in.”

“I… I think I know that,” you shuddered.

“What happened with Jason was because of a myriad of factors that were out of all our control. It’s no one’s fault,” he looks at you, but you were looking to the city. "(Y/N)? What are you thinking right now?"

"I just..." your voice trailed off and your eyes were still distant. You hadn't realized it, you hadn't really thought of it until now. “I miss my dad.”

~

2022

“What do you think, Zee? Can you find them?” Dick’s brows furrowed together while Zatanna ran back the camera footage from the cave earlier. They played the footage in slow motion so she could run through every detail.

“What I can definitely say is that it’s 100% magic,” she says. Constantine leans over, eyes squinted.

“Yup, I agree.”

“Can you back off? You smell like alcohol,” Zatanna grimaces.

“Hey, I’m here to help too!”

“I didn’t ask for your help, you were just in the room when Dick asked me to come over and you followed,” Zatanna groaned.

“Contrary to popular belief, I was (Y/N)’s favorite,” Constantine grinned.

“Okay, that’s definitely not true,” Dick frowns.

“It is! I’d do a lil party trick for her every time I saw her when she was a lass,” Constantine defends. Zatanna and Dick share a look of disbelief before they go back to the tapes.

“Well?” Bruce approaches from behind them. “What are we thinking?”

“Aside from the obvious magic?” Constantine lights his cigarette.

“What do you think?” Bruce asks.

“Roll it back a few seconds, Zee, right before the bright light,” Constantine leans against the console, and when Bruce glares at him he straightens again. “Zoom in on the watch.”

“Here, we have a reconstruction of it here,” Dick taps the screen to the side and brings up the holographic image of the watch. Constantine swipes it around while observing the emblem etched onto it.

“The hint is here,” he says while pointing to it. “Trace back this emblem and you’ll find your boys.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“There are very few kinds of magic that you can use on an object like this,” he says. He opens the watch and the watch face deconstructs into layers in the hologram. “And when you look at the make of the watch, it explains much more.”

“Look at the hands, there’s eight of them, and with each hand is a corresponding circle with a different engraving around the circumference,” Zatanna says, “it’s a device used for transport, to put it bluntly. And if the watch hands aren’t set to a certain one, it can be inferred that a device used for transport would have its default settings set to where it’s originally from, so if we trace back the source we’ll be able to find Tim and Jason,” she says.

“What she—” Constantine is cut off by his phone ringing. “Hold on, gotta get this,” he picks it up and walks to a quiet part of the cave.

“Think you can give it a shot?” Dick asks. Zatanna hums.

“Sure,” she shrugs. “Gnirb kcab Mit dna Nosaj!” Though there were sparks, nothing happened. “I didn’t think that would work. Let me try something else. Gnirb em eht hctaw!” In seconds, a bright light forms between her hands and then the sounds of clinks and clatters of watch pieces falling to the ground are heard.

“Oh, great, they broke it,” Dick wasn’t surprised when he picked it up.

“But if there’s residual energy on it then I can trace it,” Dick places the pieces on the console right as Constantine returns.

“Alright, let’s work a deal,” he looks at Bruce. “I help you find your four missing kids if you help me with mine.”

“Tell me more,” Bruce invites him to continue.

“An old protege of mine has been having some trouble with monsters, if you and your detective brains can help him and I figure out what’s going on, Zee and I will help you look for your kids.”

“Hey! Who said I agreed to this?!”

“I thought you had a soft spot for Liverpool,” Constantine shrugs.

“Oh! If it’s him who needs help then by all means,” Zatanna smiles, remembering the younger boy fondly.

“Well, there you have it, should be quick, might end up just being an extermination job, but he won’t stop bitching about it, so what’s the plan?” Bruce and Dick look at each other. They’d been trying for weeks now trying to find a lead of some sort, with Constantine and Zatanna’s help they’d be able to figure it out much faster.

“Fine,” Bruce shakes Constantine’s hand and, at the snap of a finger, a portal opens up next to Constantine.

“Then let’s start our search,” he invites the two to enter first. “You coming, Zee?”

“I’ll follow, I want to study this watch first.”

“Smart move,” Dick says.

“I’ll see you all soon,” she watches the portal close.

The three men land in what looks like a small village. People milled about and kept to themselves while they moved about the streets.

“So where is this protege of yours?” Bruce asks.

“Beats me,” Constantine shrugs.

“What do you mean?!” Dick shouts.

“Might’ve landed in the wrong town,” Constantine looks around. “‘Scuse me, love, which way to the Capital?” He pulls aside a maiden. He cheeks tinge pink before pointing down the road.

“You’ll get there in three days if you walk, hail a cab, they’ll be able to take you there faster,” she says.

“Will do, thanks,” Constantine holds his hand up. “You guys have cash right?”

“Who do you think I am?” Bruce asks. Constantine busies himself looking for a cab while Bruce and Dick stuck together, looking around the village with a hawk’s eye.

“Whoops! Sorry, mister!” A kid accidentally collides into Bruce and runs off. Bruce checks his pockets quickly, feeling everything still inside, and soon the duo notice the grouping of children.

“Wonder what the fuss is about,” Dick stretches slightly to try to see what everyone’s looking at. “Hey, what’s everyone so excited about?” Dick asks one of the newspaper boys.

“You don’t know?” The kid asks.

“Nope,” Dick answers with a shrug.

“Dang, mister, are you living under a rock?!” He hands him a newspaper and Dick skims through it. “The Dark Knight is coming!” Bruce turned his attention to the newspaper kid. “We’ll be saved from the daemons!”

“The Dark Knight?” Dick asks, catching on to Bruce’s attention.

“Duh! Captain Wayne!”

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[respondedinkind]

Despite the rhythmic pulse inside his own ears, a banging noise like there's a war fought within the shape of his own skull, Ka'anh still notices the subtle sound of foliage being squashed between a pair of feet - like before, just with it becoming louder now, closer even...

There's a brief moment of panic rising within him as he realizes he might not be alone; If someone were to approach him now, they would have an easy time taking him out, getting rid of him, eradicating his existence - sure, Ka'anh is still ready to fight, to defend himself, but with how serious his injuries are, even the most iron-willed soldier has to accept the fact that it won't end well for them to have another war fought on top of an already existing one.

Yet, a man like him won't go down without honor - without trying to claw his way out.

So he steadies himself, as much as he can, yet the way his body demands for air leaves him gasping and panting; Every inhale feels like he's ripping himself apart, accompanied by the rattling sound of his exhales, the quiet whistle when he inhales, the taste of copper sticking to the roof of his mouth. Despite Ka'anh's vision being a bit blurry, still, he tries to focus, gritting his teeth together...

... And the sight he's greeted with a few moments later is... nothing like he expected it to be.

There is a person appearing within the area of his vision, one who looks stunningly similar to his own kin. That fact alone stirs something within him at first, something primal, a mixture of fear and terror - was he wrong about everything? Did he not make it? Did his own kind fly after him, caused his shuttle to crash, and now they're here to take him back, to nurse him to health just to then execute him in the most torturous ways to make him pay for his sins?!

The thought makes him flinch away, briefly so, yet there's nowhere Ka'anh can go. His body won't move much, the pain is too overwhelming... he either has to succumb, to wave the white flag, or to fight---

But then, once more, things are happening much differently than expected. The other person, who appears to be male - Ka'anh guesses, based on the guy's facial structure - holds himself low instead of tall, and he opens the medkit that has been sought after previously, as if...

"---Jo tibiescai!" (Stay away!) It sounds much more like a grunted plea than a command when those words leave Ka'anh's mouth, accompanied by bloody spit flying from between his bared teeth - a warning, directed at the unknown visitor - and he groans right after, eyes squeezing shut briefly before he opens them again, being met with the sight of the man holding out a wet gauze toward his direction.

That's... not what he had expected to happen. Again.

"jo tibiescai, scroa ---" (Stay away, or---) A breath is being taken, wheezing within his lungs, words interrupted by another wave of pain, "---achbl frafr bleth eiqe!" (---I will kill you!)

Not that he has enough strength to do so - but Ka'anh will definitely try, even if it means he's going down too. Yet, with how the other holds himself, almost submissive in nature, something within him wonders if this man is not as dangerous as he thinks he is. There's a lot of things wrong about him, not fitting his own kin... the hair color, for example, it is foreign to Ka'anh. The clothes he wears, they do not fit the government's standard. The single sound he speaks does not sound like Ka'anh's own language either...

Taking another, shaky breath, making a split-second-decision, Ka'anh reaches out with his broken hand - and, still managing to use his fingers despite the injury, he grabs the offered gauze. He's unable to feel the soft texture as his nerves seem to have gone numb within his digits, but it doesn't matter, it's not important. He uses the moist tissue and rubs it along his own forehead, getting rid of the blood that constantly drips into his eye, then throw it to the side before reaching for the medkit that sits in front of what seems to be a not-too-dangerous man... for now.

Instinct kicks in. Perhaps he should be more careful, but the medkit can give him some time, can help him to keep his feet on the ground for a bit longer---

Ka'anh grabs the syringe, then brings it to his teeth and bites the cap off. Within another second, he slams the needle into his other arm - the syrings hisses, releasing its content into him, and, once done, he throws it to the side carelessly before awkwardly sitting up on his knees with his broken leg being bend a bit odd in the process. This will allow him to use his good hand, because he needs it, reaching for the shrapnel sticking out of his shirt...

A groan, a shout, like a soldier mentally preparing himself - which is precisely what Ka'anh does - before he pulls in one rough movement, gritting his teeth as he larger-than-expected piece of metal is ripped out of his own stomach and dropped, replaced by his own hand pressing on the bleeding injury as hard as he can somehow muster.

Come on, he thinks... he can do this. His body can do this...

He'd just been walking the trail when he'd heard something like a shockwave in the middle of the day. What he first thought could be a jet, when he looked up, was something hurtling down towards the grounds in many pieces, on fire...breaking apart. Instinct kicks in as the wreckage breaks the tree line, and Logan begins sprinting towards it, where he can hear the crashing, the destruction. It doesn't take long for the scent of burning metal, the taste of it even, slithering down the back of his throat as he takes care in his run up the trail: he doesn't need a sprained ankle out of this since he can't feel his feet after two years home.

Breaking free from the evergreens, he seems to stumble upon the wreck from the back, the skid marks deep furrows in the dirt making Logan stop in his tracks taking it all in. There's...there's no way anyone survived this if there was in fact anyone in that pod. He'd heard of pods from the space station landing in odd places around the globe here and there, but this? Logan's brows furrow as he wanders over to a bulkier piece of whatever pod this was, and...it doesn't look anything like standard NASA pods or shuttles. Plus, there was no parachute, regardless of degraded functionality on entry into the atmosphere.

Logan wanders over to what appears to be the main hull, the command station, and the buttons all look somewhat similar to what he'd seen when he'd had to undergo basic NASA training before his mission to Mimas but, what is that? The writing on the buttons, the commands...it's definitely not English. He doesn't even know how to begin to read it. A hand settles on the metal only to flinch back with a wince: it's so hot, he probably burnt himself. Shaking his hand from the sting of blisters, the blonde just staggers around, looking at all the wreckage, and his shoulders deflate with the seriousness of this, the implication that nobody could've survived. With a sigh, he runs a hand through his hair before he stiffens at a sound echoing through the pines. He's heard it before, back on the battlefields.

It can't be...

Just as Logan was about to take off, he catches sight of something on the side of the hull, something that looks familiar...like it could be a first aid kit. Jumping into the destroyed shell, Logan yanks the pack free, boosts himself out of it, and runs towards the sound of that guttural groan, that sound he's so used to hearing when soldiers are in so much pain they're on death's door, but never ready to die.

Ducking under a low bough of pine, Logan abruptly stops and takes in the sight with a slack jaw, disbelieving eyes taking in the person, the man...alive. Somehow. He's definitely worse for ware, and Logan walks towards him, hands raised though he holds the pack in one hand, to show he's clearly unarmed: the guy looks like he'd be ready to shoot if he had a weapon.

Very much like a soldier.

"Fuck..." Logan whispers as he crouches down near the man, though out of reach of an attack or scratch. He's not here to corner a wounded animal and make it feral. It's only now that he can take stock of the injuries, the sheer amount of them setting him back in his head. He trembles ever so slightly at that wrist, bent and clearly broken, the immobile leg, the shrapnel poking out of his abdomen, but he knows how to keep a level head in all this. Logan sets the pack down and opens it, though of course, he can't really read any of the labels on the vials with the syringe next to it. He took a gauze pad instead and his water bottle hanging from his belt, soaking the white square with water to at least wipe the man's face clean, see if there's head trauma. "Here..." Logan murmurs, keeping his voice soft and his body low to the ground, attempting to reach over with the wet gauze to wipe his forehead of blood and sweat.

[blackswan446]

m.list.

fyi most of these lead to wattpad, some of them to tumblr. any stories posted in the future will be posted to tumblr (unless it's a chapter story, then it'll be posted to my wattpad as well :))

if you want to read a little ab me and get my other links, click here

if you want to be brought right to my newest work, click here

if you want to request something, check out my rules here

if you'd like to be added to my taglist, shoot me a message

username stories

yandere alphabet

➸ knj.

“class president”

CWs: obsession, swearing, kidnapping, mentions of (very light/mild) sexual advances/innuendos

2. "worth it"

CWs: mentions of abusive ex boyfriend, heavy descriptions of gore, death, and cutting (not as sh)

➸ ksj.

-coming soon-

➸ myg.

“just go for it”

CWs: kidnapping, obsession, mentions of murder, drugging

➸ jhs.

“sugar” - incomplete

CWs: descriptions of gore/violence/death, sexual innuendos, poorly written (if you guys like it perhaps i’ll rework it >:) hehe)

2. “corrupted”

2. 5 "corrupted" - TUMBLR LINK

CWs: emotionally abusive/manipulative!yoongi, mentions of suicide, descriptions of fighting, gore, and death by gunshot, swearing, kidnapping, implied drugging

3. "weeping mary"

cws: gun, reader gets hit in head and passes out lols

➸ pjm.

“romeo and juliet”

CWs: swearing, mentions of murder, implied suicide

1.5 “romeo and juliet” - reworked version

CWs: heavy talk of/plans of suicide, mentions of murder, mild swearing

➸ kth.

“notice me” - incomplete

CWs: bad writing oops, heavier sexual innuendos/undisclosed/implied twisted sexual thoughts, stalking

2. "partyisntover"

CWs: drugging, kidnapping, slight sexual innuendos

➸ jjk.

"thief"

CWs: mentions of rape/murder, implied smut

2. "lifetime"

CWs: kidnapping/coercion, death, funeral, sexual advances

➸ ot7.

-coming soon-

welcome to the madhouse <3

-evie xoxo

[memethebum]

Here’s me and @alcruid’s entry for Reverb 2024! If you like Hell’s Paradise, murder/gore, Soul going through the horrors, and wacky character interactions check it out hehe

Summary: Soul is sentenced to death but is visited by Maka, a head strong woman from a clan of executioners who offers him the chance to be pardoned.

He and other death row convicts are sent to the lost island to obtain BREW and bring it back to the shogun. In order to prevent escape, each convict is supervised by an executioner from Lord Death’s clan.

Rating/Warnings: M (mild violence, swearing, minor character death)

[campingwiththecharmings]

HAPPY OSCAR FICVERSARY HONEY!!!!

That is SO exciting!!!!!!

Ok so listen, if you want me to choose a prompt specifically I will, but I had a thought that I think you might like so please just lmk what you think:

Neighbor Miguel is Spider-Man and his identity is a secret from the world, ofc. Reader works in the medical field, he knows this because they've talked casually on occasion in the past. He gets injured and doesn't have anywhere else to go (for whatever reason) so he knocks on reader's door.

Can be just fluff or smut, whatever your heart desires, but I thought it would be a cute idea that you might like hehe <3

Helping Hand

AN: Eeeeeee, thank you, Mel. Your friendship and support mean a lot to me, I hope you know that. ❤️ Thanks for being there, and also for sending this prompt in. I hope it did it justice! 🤞

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: T (for mild gore) Words: 1,007 Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader (should be GN, please let me know if that's incorrect) Warnings: brief mention of blood, wounds/injuries, hurt/comfort, cheesy/contrived dialogue probably lol AO3

——————

You sigh as you enter your apartment, shuffling through the door and letting your bag drop to the floor. The ER had been slammed today, and you were beyond exhausted. Starving, you head toward your kitchen, rifling through the fridge before settling on some leftover takeout for dinner. You decide to change while you wait for it to reheat and exit the kitchen, heading in the direction of your bedroom.  

A soft tapping noise makes you pause, your ears perking at the sound as worry settles in your gut—shit, it wasn’t rats again, was it? You’d thought the landlord had taken care of that problem months ago. You listen for a moment longer, your anxiety easing a little when you don’t hear anything further. Maybe it was just the wind, you think, resuming your trek. 

You hear it again as you reach the door to your bedroom, the tapping louder this time, more insistent. It takes a moment for you to realize it’s coming from your window, a surprised scream lodging in your throat when you finally locate the source of the sound. 

Is that….Spider-man? 

You stare, a little flabbergasted and blinking rapidly, as if it’ll somehow make this baffling image disappear. 

Alas, it does not. 

He taps again, the movement sluggish. His fingers slide down the glass and your breath catches when streaks of red appear in their wake. 

He’s injured.  

Before you can really think about it, you’re at the window, unlocking it and pushing it open. He all but falls through it, his huge frame pouring onto the floor beneath the sill. You immediately crouch beside him, your hands on his broad shoulders as he struggles to prop himself up against the wall.  

“Where are you hurt?” you ask calmly, your eyes flicking over him expertly, alert for any signs of injury. 

He says nothing, just gestures to his head, panting as if he’s been running a marathon. You frown, carefully taking his face in your hands. You can feel the warmth of his skin through his suit as you gingerly turn his head this way and that, careful not to injure him further. He grunts when your fingers graze the back of his head and you bite your lip, your gaze settling where you assume his eyes are beneath his mask.

“If you want my help, I’ll need you to remove the mask,” you tell him, your voice gentle but firm, leaving no room for negotiation. 

There’s a pause as he presumably considers your request, and just as you’re wondering what he’s thinking, he nods, his mask retracting like magic. Your mouth falls open when you not only see his face but recognize him. 

It’s your neighbor, Miguel. Spider-man is your neighbor. 

You allow yourself a moment of shock, before standing to your feet and running to your bathroom to grab a few clean towels and your first aid kit.  

Help first, questions after. 

You crouch before him, holding his chin between your fingers and carefully tilting his head up to check his eyes with your pen light. He flinches but doesn’t fight you. Once you’re positive he doesn’t have a concussion, you maneuver him so you can reach the back of his head and begin gently examining and cleaning his wound. His hair is soft against your palm, the ends curling slightly from exposure to the humid air outside, and you wonder briefly what it’d be like to plunge your fingers into the dark, mussed depths (under different circumstances, obviously).  

You’re close, close enough to smell him, his scent warm and woodsy, oddly calming. He winces as you work, grunting every now and then in pain as you clean the area. Once you're finished, you apply an antibiotic cream to his scalp that you know will help heal it quickly.  

“You should be okay, just try to keep it clean and dry.” 

He nods, wincing a little as he shifts, leaning more of his weight against the wall. 

You study him quietly for a moment, eyes tracing the tired lines of his face. His eyes are half closed, his mouth drawn in a tight line. You wonder if anyone else knows his secret; does he have a partner or does he carry the weight of all of this alone? The thought breaks your heart a little. 

“So,” you begin airily, his eyes flicking to you as you gesture at what remains of his spider-suit, “is this why I never see you at any of the building meetings?” 

He blinks at you, his movements sluggish, and for a moment, you worry that you’ve made things awkward...but then he sniffs a laugh, a smile curling on his lips, and there’s a dim light in his eyes that wasn’t there before, despite his wince of pain. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, a pang of guilt snagging in your chest.

He waves you off, meeting your eyes again briefly, his expression sobering a little. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“What for?” you ask, brows furrowing in confusion.

“For showing up like this…unannounced and bleeding all over your floor.”

“It’s okay, was only a little blood,” you tease, shrugging slightly.

He snorts and you chew your lip, your stomach flipping nervously. Has he always been this good-looking? Suddenly you can’t remember, aren’t sure you ever really took the time to notice…

“C’mon,” you say, standing to your feet and offering him your hands. 

Miguel looks between your face and your outstretched hands for a moment, then takes them, his large hands engulfing yours. You grunt as you help him stand, using all of your weight to help him get up off the floor. He wobbles a little as his center of gravity shifts, leaning against the wall again for support as he waits for the dizziness to pass.

“Okay?” you ask, watching him closely, your hands still clasped in his.

Your heart skips in your chest when he meets your eyes again, his gaze soft as he smiles and nods.

“I’m getting there.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

[marblerose-rue]

it's art raffle time baby!!! more info below cut :-D

hi hi hi!! first off i'd like to thank you guys so much! <:-D your support means everything to me and i can't believe just how much y'all like my art!!!

one person will get one flat fullbody / two people will get one icon (each) / so three winners total :-)

requirements: none!!!

liking and reblogging this post is the way to enter in :-) one entry for liking and another for reblogging (so up to 2 entrees per person!). winners will be up to rng! winners will be selected and notified 9/1/23!!

what i will do: - original characters - canon characters/fanart - blood/mild gore - furries - still in the learning process but i will do humans :-)

what i wont do: - nsfw - anything that falls in the "pro-ship" category (immediate block) - anything that is hateful, bigoted, or racist, ect (immediate block)

some examples of my work: my carrd and my commission info (and speaking of, my comms are open too hehe)

[lace-coffin]

Hey can I request jason voorhees x reader were the reader is like freddys sister or kid (grown up ofc) and he is protective of em and when freddy tricks jason to coming to Springwood the reader and jason meet at the corn maze rave and fall in love and it upsets freddy more? Thank you

Requests are open!

Thank you for the request! Ngl I had to rewatch the corn maze scene to refresh and I can’t get over how cool the fire stunt is + I love this Jason’s design with the droopy eye hehe

Jason vorehees x gn!reader

Tw for mild blood and violence (very little)

Fluff/wholesomeness, first time meeting, love at first sight

Is this too corny?

As the younger sibling of Freddy Krueger you know how he is and that things most likely won’t play out smoothly with his new plan. You attend the corn maze rave to keep an eye out for your older brother despite being told implicitly to stay home where it’s safe. You weren’t expecting to meet your soulmate here of all places..

So far things with Freddy’s new idea haven’t been going according to plan, despite successfully deceiving Jason into coming to springwood to do his dirty work he’s not being able to get a good control over him and loosing kills/opportunity to restore his powers as a result of that. Hardheaded as ever your older brother keeps to his idea, detailing how he intends to make the best of a rave that’s being held by local teens in a corn maze.

You however, the younger and only sibling of said boogeyman, were told your not to go and that’s final. As reckless as Freddy can be he cares about your wellbeing, you’re his only sibling and hold a special soft spot in his heart. You feel the same towards him, which is where the issues arises. Things haven’t been going to plan up to this point already, Freddy not being able to control Jason as well as he initially thought and having kills stolen from him as a result. With the situation being as messy as it is there’s absolutely no way you’re letting your brother go alone. Weather he actually knows you’re joining is unimportant, you’re just going to head there, keep your head low, make sure everything goes to plan and then come home.

Everything did not go to plan. Within an hour of being there Freddy has realised you’re here and berated you. He’s beyond pissed since he explicitly told you to stay home, not wanting you involved in the massacre because he knows deep down he doesn’t have a good grip on it right now.

After a few minutes of back and forth arguing he relents and agrees to let you stay. Only because he feels it would be to dangerous for you to walk home in this mess. He can’t bear the thought of something happening to his younger sibling under his watch. He begrudgingly tells you to keep out of the way and lay low until he’s finished and he’ll take the pair of you home. He swears if he wasn’t already dead then the shit you put him through would kill him five times over.

Bitter that you’ve been yelled at for the last couple minuets you make your way into the dense crowd and pour yourself a drink. May aswell, seems you’re going to be here surrounded by dumb hormone driven teens for the next few hours. After finally having enough of the crowd and loud music you take yourself to a more secluded area of the maze, perching yourself on a decorative hay bale and swishing your drink around your cup uninterested.

That is until a corpse covered in glow sticks seemingly falls from no where and slumps down infront of you. Huh. Maybe this will be interesting.

Before you can process what just happened you notice an orange glow emanating from closer to the party, fire. Intrigued and not one to sit idle you follow the haze until you reach its origin. It seems the rave has come to an end as body’s litter the floor, gored beyond recognition. You look over them in sick fascination, quick to realise they aren’t the work of your older brother..the wounds don’t match up.

A rusting noise emanates from the corn stalks and you snap your head around to the source of the noise. Still on fire a hulking 6’5 man? Zombie? Trudges out of the corn maze and pauses to stare you down. Ah, this must be Jason.

Despite your better judgment you rush over to the table to grab whatever liquid you can to douse him in, hoping to put him out. You know he’s important to your brothers plan and your not just going to let him stand there ablaze weather it will actually hurt him or not.

As you throw the (non flammable) drink over him he recoils, albeit a bit delayed to the initial impact. The fire slowly dies down and Jason looks back up to you slowly. Despite the mask you’re sure you can see some gratitude swimming behind his good eye. You rush over to check him over, Jason more than confused but intrigued allows you to once he realises your unarmed and not a threat.

You gently rid him of his jacket now ashen from the fire and tend to any wounds as best you can with whatever is available. Jason is baffled as to why you’re treating him so gently, like you genuinely care about his safety. For most his life all he’s knows is the cruelty of others and the pain he inflicts in the name of his late mother. But you, your so ..soft? Careful and considerate in a way he hasn’t felt in years. He watches you cautiously behind his mask, eye following every step of your movements as you work to patch him up.

You’ve been talking non stop since you started, quickly grasping onto the fact talking wasn’t exactly his forte but enjoying having someone to listen. You explain each step of what you’re doing to him beforehand as not to startle him, Jason gives little nods in response to let you know he understands and is comfortable with you to proceed. Your complete strangers right now but the connection you’ve built over this small period is pleasant and new to the both of you, Jason having someone fawn over him and his health for the first time in years whilst speaking to him normally and considerately is scary but welcomed. You having someone to talk to and make little jokes with whilst not talking over you and giving you room to express yourself is heaven. For what Jason lacks verbally he makes up for in expression and gestures. You notice the way his shoulders bounce as he silently chuckles when you make a particularly cheesy joke, his eyes crinkling under his mask.

Eventually you decide it’s time to bite the bullet and ask if you can take a look under his mask to check if the fire caused any damage that needs to be attended to. Instantly he pulls away. Shit, that’s a no then. You put your hands up defensively and tell him you won’t make him do anything he’s not comfortable with and that you’re sorry for offending him. He shakes his head, wanting to get across that you didn’t offend him, he’s just unsure, you’re a stranger after all, even if he is enjoying your company. After a while of negotiating via head nods you come to the agreement that you can look over the skin visible from behind his mask and no further.

You decide it would be easier to do this sat down so you take Jason’s large leather clad hand into your own and guide him to the floor of the maze clearing. Shuffling closer you ask him again if he’s ready and ok to be touched. Receiving a nod in reply you bring your face up to his. It’s more intimate than you expected considering you just met him and now you’re within kissing distance. Jason snaps his eyes away from yours bashfully but lets you proceed. You run a careful hand over the skin around his mask, miraculously it’s a little charred but already looking better than you expect thanks to his rapid regeneration. Lost in concern and concentrating on looking the visible skin over you don’t realise your effectively petting over his skin softly. It’s relaxing and soft in a way that’s foreign to Jason. You realise the effect it’s having on him once a rumbling content noise similar to a purr emanates from his chest steadily.

You giggle, thinking the noise is cute, especially coming from such a hulking undead being like himself. Jason seizes up at the sound of your laughter, thinking you’re making fun of him like those horrid kids in his past but easily relaxes again when you explain you found it endearing. Your eyes meet and hold contact for a few moments, feeling peacful in each other’s new found company. Without thinking you bump your forehead against his, soft skin meeting plastic. Just resting your head against his and looking into his eyes, it’s intimate but not pushing either parties boundaries. You swear you can see Jason’s skin flush a little darker and the rumble in his chest picks up. After a few moments of shared nuzzling you move back into your earlier position.

You offer to bring Jason back home with you so you can Atleast get him cleaned up and treated with better supplies. It’s not a super smart idea considering you just met him and he’s a 6’3 machete wielding zombie but when have you ever made good choices. He hesitantly nods and agrees to go, he thinks he can trust you after the moment you just shared and to be honest with the way his undead heart is fluttering he doesn’t feel like he could bring himself to say no to you.

You spend a few more moments in comfy silence before your brother emerges from the maze, face splattered with blood. Freddy pauses to take in the scene. You cozied up to the man who’s currently ruining all his plans. Absolutely not. Are you dumb? Do you know what he’s capable of? Did you not just see him slaughter half a student body? Freddy is across the field and pulling you off before you have chance to explain.

Jason, not know Freddy is your older brother and is just being protective, hardens his stance and rips Freddy’s grasp from your arm, machete readied. Freddy doesn’t take kindly to this and snarls at the man, demanding he backs away from his sibling. It clicks that Freddy is your older sibling. Freddy lets go and Jason relents.

Explaining to Freddy that you’re going to take home essentially the flaw within his plan doesn’t go over well. You bicker for a good five minutes, both hard headed and stubborn. Eventually Freddy throws his razored hands up and gives in, telling you that you can patch him up and that’s it, and if he even thinks about laying a hand on you or acting out of line then Freddy will slice him to ribbons without hesitation.

Freddy walks ahead of you on the way home, grumbling to himself about how unreal and stupid this is and how this wouldn’t have happened if you’d just stayed home safe like he told you. You can’t bring yourself to care as you slip your smaller hand into Jason’s, enjoying the brisk night air together.

[king-cuchara]

too much MH posting so again back with oc's hehe

dunno if i should put content warnings for him since it's very mild body horror/gore idk

anyways finally made a proper ref for Gore the Clown/Chester, my silly creepy clown guy who may or may not be a Cannibal idk

my friend wants me to draw him naked but i don't think i'm mentally prepared for it

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Ow, ouch, man, out of all the things you mentioned, I imagine if only one person is.. responsible, for all this, it would be interesting with a kind of Helmut Zemo (Movies) siche, where the person is just so deluded in their goal that consequences don't matter to them, they genuinely do not care, that they won't just die, but suffer for what they've done, it doesn't matter to them, because they got what they wanted. Maybe they come off as deranged (or not), but whatever their goal/mission is, gets the kids killed, it's not even a part of their plan, how the kids get involved/kidnapped is something to explore on, and it's not even necessarily world-ending either, it'd probably hurt more if their mission wasn't something catastrophic, something more mild like dismantling the military y'know casual friday stuff ;)

And If reader didn't know the yan adult was their parent, :D HEHE, maybe they wrote in a journal/computer log, telling about how they felt guilty for wanting that kind of affection, writing how whenever any of the adults did anything that made reader see them in parental manner, they felt shame because reader wasn't as close with them in ways maybe the other kids (possibly the older teen yans) were/are.

Dude, I'm really enjoying watching the way this is coming together! 🐑 Anon

I'm very glad you are enjoying the growth of the 🖤Dark AU! Im glad to hear from you again! Do you have any preferences for a few possible parent options for Reader? I'm up to hear a few of them, and explore it a bit. I'm really enjoying these too! If anyone has questions about this au or wants to explore it a bit, feel free to ask😊 (Just no requests for it at this time, okay?)

I was imagining what happened with the kids was kinda a blind hatred/not-care-about-the-consequences act. Whoever did it, one person or multiple, weren't seeing the four as kids or living beings. They didn't care that they were people, or what they'd do to them was illegal, sick, and inhumane. Their hatred of mutants blinded them, their thirst for power overwhelmed them, and the chance to study their remains... they weren't passing it up. Part of what they did was for "science". Part of it was out of hatred and fear. And the other part? To hurt the others.

And it would be the worst, and last, sin they ever made.

The second that the adults are within range of them, of the people who had done the wicked deed, those responsible realize something is... off. Different, this time. And it starts to click when their guards start dropping, bleeding out or burnt to ashes or frozen solid or impaled... And it only goes downhill from there. Their base falls under attack. They send soldiers, but nothing they do deters the older mutants... If anything, it enrages them. Anyone who faces them doesn't make it. They wind up as a fallen corpse, no matter who's hand brought them down. This time, they realize... there is no mercy. There is no grace. They won't be let free; they won't slip away. This isn't a rescue mission (the four are already dead, they showed them the footage they took), this is an act of vengeance...

And by the time the last of them are either fleeing or holed up in one of their labs, it's too late to do anything. Their guards: dead. Their soldiers: torn apart. Most of their staff: impaled, burnt, frozen, or bleeding and dying in some horrible way. Who is left is them... and they realize they have one card left to play. When the doors burst apart, revealing who they can only assume are the adults, covered in gore and smelling of rust and iron and death, they're soon attacked. A few of them are killed immediately, splattering the rest of them in bright crimson... Yet as the head scientist is about to meet their own deserved fate, they say what they hope is their saving grace: "We weren't the ones who ordered it!"

That pauses the world for a minute.

The grip on the tightens, almost choking them, until they're being asked in a tone that leaves no room for regret or mercy: "Who?"

And they spill what they can, all the while they feel their gazes drift over them, murderous and unyielding, sensing for lies and threats. They explain they were given orders to do it. A small branch of the government was interested in mutants powers and capabilities, as it were, and so they said to study the ones they chose. So they did. They only did standard procedures, nothing more than what happened with every asset-!

They're thrown across the room, head colliding with something metal, then there's one of the mutants looming over them. And what they see in their eyes... It promises a fate worse than death...

(And when the older mutants, adults and teens alike, find the government had something something to do with what happened... it leads to them taking control of the world... What happened to them all was bad, what happened to their kids/friends/siblings... It crossed a line that shouldn't have ever been crossed. And they're going to ensure it is never crossed again. That there is no need for lines in the sand, or vengeance, or suffering... They'll make it better. They will. If only... if only they didn't lose them. It's a heavy burden, a crushing weight, that drags them down and down and down, threatening to engulf them. But they manage, somewhat, enough to bring about a new peace, and to grow some more... Even though they're haunted by what they've seen, the videos they saw of what happened to them... They can't rest just yet. They miss them, and they love them, but... until they've done everything they can, or at least set up something to keep everyone in line, they can't stop...)

(And well, if Reader didn't know they were actually their kid... that would only add to the pain, the guilt, that they feel. This platonic yan adult didn't even know their own kid was there with them, wanting to be seen as their kid along with the other teens... And they would never know they were seen that way, or that they were their kid... It makes them feel sick and hollow, as though someone sucked the warmth and essence out of them, leaving nothing but a sorrowful, weeping shell behind...)

[tears0fsatan]

                ♰          ・        𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓!

✦ ⊹ ˚˖ warnings... suggestive! below sixteen, ageless blogs and fem aligned do not interact, dead dove do not eat, implied m!reader, vampire!asmodeus, gore, cannibalism question mark (he's a vampire does it really count as cannibalism), blood, mild dub con

 :¨·.·¨ ♥︎  a.n... welcome to the start of my horror mini series! kicking it off with something that has had me gripping the bars of my enclosure like the animal i am! i loveee unsettling asmo and cannibalism as a metaphor for devotion and so why not combine the two am i right (can u believe that all the dialogue in this actually came from the game.. they should make asmo deranged more often)

 #﹏𖣠  ㅤ HEART SHAPED HICKIES MASTERLIST ㅤ. . . ㅤ !! ( ☠️ )

the moments leading up to the cute, pink-haired vampire making himself comfortable on your lap while your body remained frozen still were a blur. all you could remember was a soft, coquettish mumble asking for your help before a dizzying embrace and the current predicament you found yourself in.

"hehe," asmodeus giggled breathlessly, looking up at you with wet puppy eyes you never realised looked so sinister up until that very moment, "i need you to help me satiate my hunger." time felt as though it came to a halt, the haunting words ringing in your head as your mind ran wild.

perhaps asmodeus could see the fear swimming in your eyes for he let out another sweet giggle which, under different circumstances, you would've found charming, but all it did now was send a shiver down your spine. a strange shine flashed in his eyes, the kind of gleam he usually got whenever he got excited over a new plaything, only in this instance, you had become his new object of interest.

"i want your blood so bad i can't stand it! you're the only one who can do anything about that!" the vampire whined, putting on that faux, innocent tone you had grown used to. "your skin is so tender, so fragile… like this spot here," his fingers brushed against the crook of your neck, the feather light touch leaving goosebumps in their wake, "it's so soft and supple." the words came out in the form of a whisper, masking the horrifying meaning behind an intimate and gentle front.

"if i were to sink my teeth into it, i wonder what sort of noises you'd make…?" there was a heavy implication beneath the teasing question, though whether asmodeus was hinting towards something obscene or something dangerous was unknown to you.

"hehe, if I get overexcited and take so much of your blood that it kills you, sorry in advance, okay?" he giggled before bending forward with practiced grace to bite into the junction of your neck and shoulder, accurately landing directly on your jugular vein. the hollow words offered you no comfort, much less the teasing hilt the sentence ended on.

then before you knew it, he was there, nestled on your lap with his pouty lips attached to your neck where he ate his fill, hands gripping your shoulders like they were a vice and the only thing keeping him grounded with you. the only noise in the room that could be heard was the loud slurping from the vampire, fervently suckling on your neck like a starved man, not letting even a single drop of your blood slip past.

you tasted so sweet, better than any other prey he had caught before and he craved more. asmodeus's eyes often wandered to your chest, staring intently at the flesh that came between him and your beating heart. he wondered how your heart would taste, freshly ripped out from your warm body, if the lump of muscle would continue to beat even when harshly taken out of it's home. he daydreamed about how the thick, warm, saccharine blood would feel sliding down his throat, sucking you dry of every ounce of life.

the blood that very heart of yours produced had been the most addictive thing he'd ever tried, and the vampire had been alive long enough to try out all sorts of things. from the very moment he walked by you and caught a whiff of your heavenly scent, he knew he had found his new plaything for the meantime. there was something different about you, something that set you apart from the other humans he had hunted and consumed.

he couldn't get enough of you, pliant in his hold and yet the heat in your gaze slowly shifting from fear to defiance. it was all so adorable to the vampire, no matter how hard you tried to fight against his magic, it was inevitable. it was refreshing so see someone attempt to fight against his magic rather than accept their fate. the thought of that alone was enough to have asmodeus shuddering in response, his hips subconsciously rolled against your thigh. hell, he wanted nothing more than to rip you apart, to savour the taste of your flesh on his tongue like you were the main course at some lavish restaurant, made and served all for him.

he wanted to scavenge through your organs, find out which part of you tasted the best and what tasted the worst, if it were possible. asmodeus was thoroughly convinced no part of you could taste bad, be it finger or liver.

he detached himself from your neck with a loud 'pop!' and sat up to face you, shifting his hips backwards ever so slightly so he could get a better look at your face. though he did his best to not let any blood slip by, he was unable to stop the blood from coating the lower half of his face.

an unsettling grin took over his face, his bloody mouth on full display for you to see. a couple small drops of blood trickled down from his fangs, the rest of his teeth coated in a light sheen of blood, which only served to make asmodeus look all the more unnerving. the vampire usually emitted a radiating beauty that often left people speechless and questioning whether he was really a human or not, had it not been for his pupils that turned into slits and his irises that had a faint glow, reminding you all too well that the person sitting on your lap was far from human.

a groan escaped your mouth as your surroundings began to spin, the sound of your heart pumping excessively to replenish the blood you had forcibly stolen for you echoed in your ears and only served to make you feel dizzier. it took all your strength to keep your eyes open, to watch his long tongue flicked out of his mouth to lap up the surrounding blood. it was far more erotic than it should've been, the flush covering his face, the satisfied smirk on his lips, the half lidded eyes watching your every movement as though he was bewitched by you, it all didn't help the growing problem in your nether regions.

it was shameful really, how you felt turned on from the very monster who feasted on you like you were nothing more than an insignificant being. what was even more shameful and concerning was the fact that you didn't care as much as you should have.

© 2023 TEARS0FSATAN. please don’t translate, modify, repost or plagiarise my works anywhere.