#muse; titus

[ofglaiveandguard]

@rexelectus​

The treaty signing was only a few weeks away and just about everything was in place. He had steered a good number of the Glaive to his side and made plans to keep those he couldn’t away. Noctis was the one person he was struggling to factor. He’d always had a soft spot for the Prince, but despite his attempts to distance himself, they had grown closer over the last few months.

He didn’t want Noctis to get hurt and he certainly didn’t want to be the reason he did. Regis needed to die though. Titus had decided that much, years ago. If all went according to plan, Noctis would be far from Insomnia by the time it fell. He would be off on his merry way to meet his bride-to-be and that would be the end of it.

Hopefully Titus Drautos would be announced killed in action and Noctis would never know of his involvement.

The bleak thought was pushed from his mind as a knock on his door was followed by the appearance of the Prince himself. Speak of the devil, hm? Titus gestured for him to take a seat.

“What can I do for you, your Highness?”

[theovergrowth]

Awhile back I answered an ask from a meme about what lie Titus and Macrides respectively tell the most, and I said that Titus’ is “I’ve got this under control” which is true but there’s another one he has to say more than he would like to admit: “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

He says it every time he’s about to leave for good, just so nobody suspects that he’s about to disappear and try to stop him. So instead, he makes plans to see them the next day and leaves in the dead of night.

[justassorted]

@theovergrowth

This is Ithadel at baby Titus :’)

self-recognition through the other (concerned)

[eclipsecrowned]

stray mortified that she got a tiny hip tattoo for her on-again off-again boyfriend that in a majority of verses she firmly lands in 'better off as friends' territory with because how does she even explain that to her actual partner that 'oh yeah, i have a symbol of this noble guy on my body for the rest of eternity--'

crowe, meanwhile, rolls up her sleeve and demonstrates that if she flexes the little kenny cr*w on her arm does a funky little dance that pisses off bahamut, watch. no shame no dignity just whatever she has the cash for and will enjoy. it doesn't have to mean anything except 'crowe likey crowe get-y.'

[revalition]

OCT 3 - RHETORIC

Practice the art of persuasion. Enjoy rigorous intellectual discourse.

ahhh Rhetoric. I hated him in my first playthrough. I became a true blue moralist in my attempts to stay away from the politics he was constantly spewing. And ended up realizing Moralism was just as extreme as the other options. Now I'm very fond of him.

He's also very fun to draw with 4 arms!! (and he's not the only skill I've given 4 arms to, these poor guys) No WIPs in this one, but i can share if anyone wants to see haha.

As usual, lots of dialogue and musings under the cut!

This exactly, is why I hated Rhetoric at first. It was all I could see in him.

echem vs rhetoric!

lol

Perception repeatedly telling you that they can't smell communists never stops being funny to be.

I know it's Rhetoric day but Volition ily. He's the lone supporter of building communism.

ty rhetoric, dispelling these myths

inexplicable feminist rhetoric is my best friend. He doesn't care what it is, if Harry wants to stand for it rhetoric is ON BOARD. I do find it a little off-putting... but that's okay.

Second one is re. communism if you're a moralist.

the rhetoric fail against Titus is so painful. it's not as bad as the authority fail, but...

all of these damage morale too! gotta love how you get scolded for going off script if you choose anything but the fiddle option... and your delivery sucked if you do choose it. thanks rhetoric

aw :(

The highest rhetoric check! difficulty 18 (Impossible)

he backs down so easy sometimes, and it's completely random when it will be

listen to your stomach harry

If your rhetoric is high enough, he knows some German! his translation isn't quite right, I'm pretty sure. it seems to be a pale radiation incident...

In my, admittedly limited, search I actually found no reference to Rhetoric advising you to say any of these things. Harry comes up with this shit all on his own!

he just wants you to share your opinion...

also Rhetoric's nickname! He's called Goldmouth (or Gold Mouth) by Volition (x2) and Empathy, and Golden Mouth Man by Harry and Drama. From what I can tell, the name doesn't seem to have much meaning outside DE. But there is this mention in the Innocences book...

Perhaps it's a nickname Rhetoric gave to himself pre-Martinaise that has stuck, based off the Perikarnassian innocence? It's fun to think about.

Going to leave it there. There's a lot of other really good Rhetoric with Other Skills dialogue, but I put a lot of it in a previous post and don't want to repeat it, so it's been left out. If you read this far... you're crazy haha.

[ofdxngers]

☆ﾟ*·ﾟHEART BEATING SPORADICALLY and out of turn, Hanna curled up into a ball, trying her best to calm herself down. But due to the lack of attention, touch, and soft words, she couldn't get herself to. Rubbing her arms, she whimpered softly as she noticed someone heading her way. She lifted her head, tears still streaming down her face. Her heart still beat way too fast for her liking. It needed to stop, soon. "N-No, I don't... I don't think so. T-There's too many people and one guy, h-he bumped into me and I panicked. He didn't a-apologize. And now, I'm n-not feeling good at all. My heart it's...please help."

Septimus was tired. Exhaustion had finally caught up to him slowing him down and the desire to party until he dropped, to raise hell with these pagans and their merry-making for the turning of the world and the wheel had hit a snag. Well, perhaps not entirely. Septimus did not remember their name or even what they looked like but if played right he was intending to leave the areas overflowing with continued revelry to have someone warm his bed. This left, that turn, down this way and - eyes widened as brows lifted and a jaw fell open with a minor amount of shock. Staring, a future emperor watched unsure to walk on by and pretend like he did not see the heaving, hyperventilating woman bawling her eyes out or to run the other way. No. Unfortunately for the roman, emotional outbursts like this made him deeply uncomfortable and face his own jared feelings shoved far back in hos being there was a gentleman there. Grimacing he swore under his breath.

"Fuck me" the roman murmured giving a half growl feeling his skin want to reject the movement forward. Holding out his hand he spoke in a stern whisper. "By god woman stop this blathering I can't help if you don't - did anyone hurt you? which way did they go?"

[kit-williams]

Modern!Space Marine AU

Blame @pluvio-tea because I've been reading her interpretations of what Titus and the gang would be doing in the modern day and I got enough people encouraging me... so...

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog @remembrancer-of-heresy @felinisnoctis @solspina

@the-californicationist

lets begin

Note: a lot of them will be ex military though in honesty you could make them all ex military just if I mention they are ex military its more so they are a recent ex military

The Dark Angel; Azazel: In a modern setting I see him as still being active military but now behind a desk and more so working for the Intelligence community and interrogations but he tells people that he still does work as a military therapist which isn't exactly a lie. The excitable young woman that works with him is a nice distraction...

The Emperor's Children; Palion: Is a Tailor and a Costume Designer he loves to make fancy outfits that glitter in the light and is inspired by a tragic Muse...

The Iron Warrior; Harram: Military Contractor (still very much as a Dad bod in this universe) with a focus on construction so like infrastructure and building. He's recently moved and there is a nice widow right new door...

The White Scar; Nogai: Racing (he's a white scar) with a focus on motocross on both bikes and ATVs. However he also likes to do rally races with his navigator Honey... he may or might not enjoy the steadfast and commanding tone she takes when she’s in the co-driver seat and in the zone as they race a little too much...

The Space Wolf; Arkyn: Another Ex military (given that he was a captain) so at the moment he is learning how to transition back to being a civvie but he's recently learned he enjoys helping at the local wildlife rehabilitation center. The other retired military woman who works there helps sooth his wild soul...

The Imperial Fist; Astel: Black market Doctor and Chemist operating without a license. He makes house calls and is good for what he does but sometimes he likes to take on cases "out of the goodness of his heart" for way less money... such cute little mouse for him to work on...

The Night Lords; Ghosk: Actor but not just any actor he is a monster actor; aka the guy who is in full prosthetics moving like a cryptid even if he's under like 20 pounds of makeup and props and prosthetics. When he's not assigned to a movie role he likes to be a scare actor at one of those parks where he can touch the attendants... he likes watching the rabbits run...

Anrir: he is in the nitty gritty and dirty business of Organ Transplants like proper handling (just don't ask where he got those 30 kidneys)

The Blood Angel; Sirus: He is someone's Art muse. He get's so much money and time to make his pottery. He also is good at making memorial pieces like incorporating human ashes into a piece... that's because for his grand pieces he's already doing that. Sirus is also a Serial Killer with a pinch of cannibalism, he incorporates blood into the hues... human ash mixes nicely with his clay. He's hoping to ask his Moonlight muse for a photoshoot soon...

The Iron Hand; Marlos Vauth: Software Engineer. He focuses on programming for prosthetics but he's been moonlighting as a hacker as well and getting rather good at it. He's been bothering the IT girl recently...

The World Eater; Zul: Retired. He heavily insists that he is retired but he's still jacked and simply says he made smart investments so his money makes money. But how can he be retired he's young (40s) and scarred to hell and back. But he will get aggressive if you keep asking questions. He can often be found with a sickly young woman on his arm too...

The Ultramarine; Tulio: He is a high salaried investor who could retire if he wanted but he just hasn't done so yet... He has to make sure that the new girl is going to be fine...

The Death Guard; Solos: Unemployed. He is the guy in town who you never see at the same job twice and never for very long, yet he somehow has money all the time. His spats with his lady are legendary as they seem to break up and get back together all the time, even if she could do so much better than Solos, but people who intervene with his love life have a habit of going "missing" and Solos always has an alibi...

The Thousand Son; Nakht: He is a professor that deals with historical documentation as well as document repair. Though a few people have noticed that a lot of what he deals with is occult materials given how his main field of study has nothing to do at all with esoteric occultism...

The Black Legion; Zhur: Professional Dom... he's got his eyes on a particular client but he's got to pay the bills and his baritone voice can easily get anyone to obey him.

The Word Bearer; Jihias: Preacher (is anyone surprised?) well in fact the Preacher bit is a ruse as he is in fact a full blown cult leader. Such passion and fervor his preaching tend to be but if you think more and more of what he says... and by the time you realize the grotesque nature of his preaches get it's far too late... the shepherd loves you and wont ever abandon you...

The Salamander; Nubin: Master Blacksmith. Run's his own shop and also does free classes for the high school when they cut their shop classes so he just offered free courses and is trying to get some deal for the time spent in the shop to count towards credit hours.

The Raven Guards; Sor, Kazi, and Moremo: Private security guards though they have come under scrutiny for getting rather close to their latest client

The Alpha Legion; Omegon: Lawyer and a damn good one as some people say he hires professional investigators to look over a scene again he's never really lost a case.

The Black Templars; Roland: Retired Military and does stuff with guns either selling them, helping people train with them, also runs a Youtube Channel with Backerin called "Guns & Buns" which has their own niche because it will be Roland helping out with his wife's bakery/a slight vlog showing off his journey with retirement

Arnault: Retired Military turned erotica writer/author. Started writing when he was bored out of his mind during a recovery and found out he enjoys writing erotica.

The Carcharodon; Tyberos: Mafioso. (Rather he is either the head of the Carcharodons or an enforcer) but right now he's helping run a front which is a coffee shop but it's become a nice little community get together since it has decent food and good coffee and its great for people trying to sell stuff

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

The Master Lists

Blueberry Pie:

Aeonid Thiel, Cato Sicarius, Demetrian Titus, Malum Caedo, Roboute Guilliman, Uriel Ventris

First Born Husbandry AU:

Alpharius, Draco Kai, Hura, Imhoden, Jerahmiel, Karlsor, Omegon, Petras, Petrico, Su'cona, Symith, Torglite, Zaarius, Zadakael, Zeth

First Born Mer-creature AU:

Alpharius, Draco Kai, Hura, Imhoden, Jerhamiel Karlsor, Omegon, Petras, Petrico, Su'cona, Symith, Zaarius, Zadakael, Zeth

Primaris Marine Husbandry AU:

Atlas, Catius, Claude, Kerubiel, Jophiel, Nanael, Oleandros, Ramiel, Thressl

Primaris Marine Mer-creature AU:

Catius, Claude, Kerubiel, Jophiel, Nanael, Oleandros, Ramiel, Thressl

Soul Mate AUs:

Horror will do a mix of cannon characters in Warhammer setting and also Husbandry :) Sad will do a mix of cannon characters in Warhammer setting and also Husbandry :) Happy will do a mix of cannon characters in Warhammer setting and also Husbandry :)

Random:

Ultra-moo-rines Musings (Demi)God(ess) Is A Girl Forcibly Turned Into a Demon (Not) Normal Animals Here An (In) Glorius Duty AU Captured Alive is Worse

[alessabriel]

polaroid love.

Summary: When she called his name it made his heart race.

Cw. flulff, soft.

He had never been a fan of photos, eventually and his arrival in Gotham under the care of his father had learned to hate them by the detestable press that seemed not to have much more chaos to cover. He hated the photos, he didn't like them and when he appeared in them he looked so tense that his family learned the hard ones that he didn't like them.

That was until you came into his life, a flash in purple tones from cold to warm that hit him squarely in the face blinding him.

You were a brilliant person without trying and you lit up every damn room with your mere presence without counting on the trail of magic that danced around you as if it protected you, with your sweet and melodious voice you broke the silence around him and he loved it in a thousand possible ways and he felt lucky when you said his name,  with so much love and adoration that you caused his heartbeat to go completely crazy, as if the organ wanted to leave his chest and settle on your bare hands. It was a bloody, romantic metaphor you had said once, that time when you created a pendant out of thin air to wear around your neck and never take it off.

And so, with your arrival he began to take a liking to photos of any kind from the casual ones in which he caught you off guard leaving your pristine beauty exposed, the formal ones in which you wore the gala uniform of your private school (specialized in magic and even more private than his) or dresses to match their costumes when they could not escape the galas,  those where he could catch you sleeping peacefully on his chest or shoulder, when they came out in pajamas in front of the bathroom mirror with their faces still sleepy but he could not help but smile and those that made a special place in his memory; in which you went out with Titus on your lap, his great companion saw you with dreamy eyes as if you were some kind of goddess in his eyes (he believed the same) and those where Alfred his little sloe companion became putty on your body snuggling between your arms or on your chest. Those photos were polaroid and he kept them in his purse suspiciously, another pair well hidden in his private locker in the cave. He also began to like going out with you in selfies either in which he partially saw their faces, with silly filters (because in what world did you, the most divine being on this earth need a filter? I didn't understand, but it made you laugh and I was happy) or in which you always sealed your smooth lips on his cheek with your eyes always closed and he with a serious face or an attempt at it.

It was easy to start loving the photos where you went out because you were her beloved, the sun that her moon needed, the breath of fresh air on a hot day, the drizzle in a desert and the complement she did not know she needed in her life. The part of an equation sought, the longed-for inspiration and its eternal muse. Loving you had been so difficult at first, but you made your way through his heart like a warrior, you crossed his barriers and you took him out to live his life without the interference of others, you taught him many things; Learning that being wrong was okay, that it was part of being human his feelings and that it was not wrong to feel it, that he deserved love, tenderness and care.

You deserve to be yourself and be loved with the intensity of a thousand suns, and if you allow me I want to be the one who loves you Damian.

Those words still comfort him in those days when everything lacerated him, and his mind reproduced them until he slept, because he would never tire of remembering them.

Damian had read a lot as a child because it was the only way to approach a normality shown in books, one that he longed for, but did not know, and in those days that his psyche still kept hidden he remembered reading romantic books where the protagonists loved each other with everything and mistakes, with darkness, with defects and with hands full of blood.  even with his back loaded with thousands of ghosts from the past. Books where love never won, but never stopped fighting for a single opportunity.

They were certainly tragic books, yes, but they showed how much the characters loved each other.

And he knew that he wanted to be by your side years ago, when the uneasiness of not being loved as he wished for his parents was still fresh in his heart (father minimized him to just a tantrum child and his mother knew she would throw him under a train if he gained power with it), when with the damn sword of Deathstroke lodged in his chest and feeling himself lower by his own weight on the edge,  when I look at you he has the means of falling and unconsciousness; boiling in such a horrendous wake of magic that it suddenly advanced until it flooded the whole place and swallowed the mercenary whole. He never knew how he got to the ground or how you pulled out the sword, but he does remember your warmly cold hands on the hole left by the sword and the boiling sensation of tears falling on his skin like a strange sensation running through him whole. You whispered in another language that I did not identify, but distinguished supplications.

Don't take my best friend, please.

No one could know how you saved his life when his death was assured by the severity of his injuries, but no one got answers. You always deflected the subject by being annoying, talking like a chatter about your cartoons that you loved to watch until you got fed up with anyone who asked you, except him, and I always got the same answer –someday I could tell you Dami, but not today, please– and I respect that, even when I was 11 years old and longed to know.

Now today everything was complex, but at the same time easy, he learned a lot by your side. I felt like you always added to him, never subtracted from him. That feeling made him tremble from head to toe despite the assassin training that he took all his life, you simply made that old-fashioned feeling completely envelop his heart by removing any filter from his system, he could not retain the love he felt, nor the absolute and unconscious adoration he professed when he kept his gaze fixed on your figure taking care of your micro expressions and gestures,  In search of some discomfort or discomfort to help you, because every move he learned over years and never realized until he knew he was completely and madly in love with you.

He knew about your overflowing powers, how magic absolutely adored you, and how you understood it even more than your mother or grandfather. You were a being full of magic, in every aspect.

I knew that loud noises stunned you in an uncomfortable way, you didn't enjoy arguments, and you usually tended to be silent out of nowhere because they got lost, but you came back to yourself to continue any conversation.

He knew that you completely detested paperback books with very loaded or tasteless designs, he could reproduce in his memory your complaints about new books, the same complaints that he would listen carefully to protect the information.

Since they were friends I knew that you really disliked completely that your mother intervened in your training or missions, because from the beginning she abandoned you with Constantine (who surprisingly was a good father, somewhat absent but good) and therefore you had a tense relationship with her.

He always had in mind that you were cold and carried a jacket (his and even with traces of his cologne because he knew you loved it) in the back of his car.

Really everything he learned from you was almost by inertia, you were always attentive to him in many aspects which he loved, because nobody had taken the trouble to know all his preferences; From food to clothes, how he liked certain products over others, how he was constantly bored and carried a small book of artwork in your bag or car for him, how he sometimes worried because he could not let his guard down until your magic in the form of soft mist settled on the inside of his arm giving him comfort.

They were a litany of things they learned from each other.

Damian knew that with you in his life he opened up to new things, that having your hand holding his tightly there would be nothing he feared.

A semi-empty fair was one of the last places their families would look for them, both did not like those types of places at all. The perfect choice.

"Hurry up Mian!" you said with emotion, pulling the Wayne boy out of his dazed state.

With a soft snort without ulterior motives the tallest followed your light trot towards a photo booth crudely decorated with fair colors, but it had a certain gloomy charm for the old and once in front of it was nothing to take out your wallet you were faster paying and smiling shamelessly for it.

"I invited you to this date pretty boy, so I pay" you commented triumphantly before removing the curtain to give him access first "You First"

Damian could only smile at your tender antics and entered first without wasting time pulling you inside, there was a padded seat where he sat and pulled you into his lap, they could both see the options and after a little talk they opted for a simple polaroid that would give them two. He kept his gaze on the countdown and without a word took you by the cheeks with utmost care and kissed you, savoring the light, velvety texture of your lipstick against his own lips in every uncalculated move, and viciously swallowed your needy little gasp.

"Mian" you sighed dreamily when the kiss ended, your hands trembled on the fabric of his shirt and you looked with a smile as your boyfriend's lips looked reddish.

"Beloved" replied softly the tallest without avoiding kissing your sweet smile.

Between laughter and stolen kisses they left the photo booth, with a polaroid in hands.

Damian considered that you not only took a copy of the polaroid in your hands but his heart in your hands.

[ofglaiveandguard]

Titus stood in silence as the King read through the reports. It wasn't good news. As the man had aptly surmised, the Empire was growing stronger. Unlike them, the Empire didn't need to train their men, didn't need to worry about sending them into battles they wouldn't return from. He took no pleasure in sending men to their deaths.

"Word has it that the Nox Fleuret boy is to be promoted to deputy High Commander. I wouldn't be surprised if was an attempt to get a rise out of you – to get you to do something reckless."

It was also another way to tighten their ever-growing hold on Tenebrae. They had the oracle, and the former prince was an active member of their military.

"Troops are being called back to the capital. It is their belief that they may be regrouping before launching a large-scale attack. Unfortunately we don't know when and where at this time."

@ofglaiveandguard (Drautos)

Regis silently looked over the reports Titus had given to him, a small sigh leaving his lips once he was done. "They are getting stronger still," he offered finally, referring to the Empire. Their Glaives fought valiantly, but it was truly hard to compete with mind-controlled beasts and beings that didn't feel pain or had no qualms about self-destructing if it was required of them. Niflheim had truly created something terrifying.

"Have you gotten word from our spies? There must be something to be done to push them back further," Cor was in control of their spies, but he had surely spoken with Drautos already.

"I fear the situation is getting dire."

[ofglaiveandguard]

@galahdborn​ continued from here.

Nyx Ulric seemed to be a magnet for trouble. It didn’t matter what Titus did, it didn’t matter how many times he placed him on guard duty or how many lectures he gave him. The Glaive would just turn around and do something stupid the next chance he got.

He’d be angry if he didn’t remind him of himself. That was part of the reason he was so fond of him – why he hadn’t dismissed him from the Glaive entirely. No matter how good of a soldier someone was, frequent insubordination was usually grounds for dismissal.

“A chat, hm?” The Captain mused, only releasing his grip once they were far enough away that he was certain Nyx wouldn’t go back. He didn’t buy his excuse though, not even for a moment. ”Would that chat happen to involve fists?”

He let out a soft sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as they walked. Sometimes he thought Ulric had decided to make it his goal in life to make his life more difficult than it needed to be. No other Glaive had ever caused him so much trouble.

“I know it’s hard, but you shouldn’t let them get to you. They say what they say because they want a reaction. When you give them that reaction, you’re just playing into their hands. What would have happened if I hadn’t been there? You’d beat them up and then what? What would it actually accomplish?”

[imaginethisisagoodname]

Big spoilers for C2 below (this includes the tags, I try to be vague in them but if you really want to avoid spoilers skip them)

I also don’t have a good conclusion to this so it’s mainly just some guesses but not really anything else

So when we find out Elgas real name, Calliope and Barney’s kids names, Titus and Samson, they sound like weird names, which they would be now, because they’re really old. Titus was a Roman emperor who ruled from 79-81 CE and is known for being the conquer of Jerusaleum and in Greek it means title of honor, and Samson was an Israelite warrior and judge and was really strong and his name means sun And it’s kinda cool that Micah gave them these names and I don’t know if they mean anything, but they might. Also both of them are from the Bible so that’s kinda cool.

I suppose Samson could be a play on words like sun vs son but I really don’t know.

But they also have Elgas birth name Calliope, wich is the name of the oldest of the nine muses, and the muse of epic poetry and eloquence which isn’t super Elga. I don’t really know why Micah gave her this name, but it probably wasn’t a name from internet people so it must have some purpose.

Calliope dose mean beautiful voice in Greek so it could’ve just been that he was referencing Elgas nice acent?

Her mom was also the goddess of memory which is kinda ironic and could also be Micah referencing the fact that she lost her memory?

But some other stuff about her that doesn’t mean anything (as far as I can tell) is that in some interpretations she is a water nymph, her dad is Zeus, she’s the mom of Linus and Orpheus, she was often depicted with her sisters, some say she was homers muse for the Iliad and the Odyssey, she was sometimes referred to as the mother/chief of all muses, she was also sometimes said to be the mother of the sirens and her symbols were the lyre, tablet and stylus.

I’m willing to bet Micah named her off my first 2 guesses but he could’ve had some other plan and I just think it’s interesting that when given to name Barneys sons he named them after biblical people but for his daughter he names her after a Greek muse. And the Elga thing just feels kinda interesting to me but if anyone else knows anything else please tell me.

Also here’s some pictures of calliope in greeek mythology just because I think it’s interesting

[ladytauria]

44 with timdami? if the muse strikes~

the muse struck and struck hard. this ended up about 2k words XD

my brain went "terminal illness? oh! hanahaki 😌" so i hope that's okay <3

there is also not really a... resolution to this. i debated between happy and sad, but, as the words kept coming... i ultimately ended up going open instead <3

thank you for the prompt!

Tim coughs up the first petals on a Sunday afternoon.

He’s sitting outside—Dr Thompkins says he needs more vitamin D, and despite what the others might think, Tim does try to stay on top of his health. Damian is sitting outside too; though not on the porch where Tim is. Instead, he’s sitting under a tree, sketchbook balanced on his knees and Titus lying by his side.

Dappled sunlight dances on his skin, and Tim’s fingers itch for his camera.

Then his throat itches too; diaphragm spasming as he coughs into his arm. Something flutters in his throat; on his tongue. He worries for a moment he’s coughing up phlegm—and then he tastes something… sweet. Floral.

He thinks. He might have preferred the phlegm.

After a quick glance to make sure no one sees, he spits the petals into a napkin. They were likely a bright, vibrant white before they sat in his mouth. A few speckles of blood dot them; vivid even with the darkening of their color.

Tim crumples the napkin, crushing them within.

Then he tucks it into his pocket, takes the rest of his tea, and heads inside.

~

The petals don’t stop coming.

Of course they don’t. Once they start— It’s hard to get rid of them. Tim knows that.

It’s inconvenient anyway.

Even more inconvenient is the way that suddenly, Damian is everywhere, just when Tim wants to avoid him most. Or doesn’t, he supposes, because… he never seems to excuse himself. Not until the coughing starts, anyway, and then he finds a way to leave without calling too much attention to himself.

It’s only a matter of time before one of the others notices something is wrong. They’re all too damn nosy and observant by far—something Tim appreciates when it comes to solving a case, not so much when it comes to butting in his personal life.

It’s also harder to lie to them. Not impossible. Tim’s done it enough that he knows just how to do it best; what each of them needs to hear to make them believe it. He’s practically an expert.

This, though.

It’s harder to conceal.

Especially as the tickle in his throat grows more frequent, his chest growing tighter. The petals get larger, too. It won’t be long before flowers form. As soon as that happens—

Tim will have to disappear.

Oh—sure. He could confess. The flowers in him will wither and die without that built-up longing to cling to. But—

He would have to leave anyway, wouldn’t he? He doesn’t think he could stand it, working day in and day out with him after a rejection. Doesn’t want that cloud hanging over any of them—or to put Damian in that position in the first place. Sure; rejection won’t kill him, that’s a myth, but. For Damian to know that Tim’s feelings ran deep enough that they had taken root and bloomed within him—?

Tim can think of many ways to describe Damian, not all of them flattering, but— Cruel isn’t one of them. Not anymore.

He might accept Tim’s confession in some misplaced kindness—out of pity, and that— Would be worse than any rejection could be, actually.

So no. Either way, Tim has to disappear. At least this way his dignity will be intact.

He always figured he’d have a short life. Granted, the method of death he pictured was different, but— well. Actually. With Ivy around, asphyxiation by flower isn’t really that different from something he could have faced as Red Robin.

There is also the surgical option, too—but Tim would rather die than become unfeeling. While some claimed that the surgery caused only dulled feelings, especially with modern technology, there isn’t enough information for him to be willing to take the risk.

Leaving is best, then. For everyone.

~

Tim does not have as many contingency plans as Bruce—but he comes a close second. Among them, there are many plans for disappearing and starting over somewhere new.

Picking one is the hardest part.

From there? Smooth sailing.

He quietly divides his cases between the others. Some, he offers outright. Others, those less pertinent, he quietly slips onto their systems, as if they had always been there. He does the same with his patrol route.

Tim works with Babs fairly often these days—especially with the blooms growing larger; the coughs more frequent. He blames it on the changing weather, and Oracle is happy enough to have an additional pair of hands. Tim exploits access to her system to make subtle tweaks to everyone’s patrols until his is virtually non-existent.

He also packs. Lightly, of course; just a few things to look at, to reminisce about the past in his dying days. 

He has a will, and some pre-recorded messages. He shortens the period of inactivity which will automatically send them; tweaks the messages a bit; and moves on.

Tim allows himself a few indulgences, too—spending more time with the others, not skipping group meals, taking more time off of work. He knows it raises a few eyebrows, but— Tim is practiced at explaining his oddities away.

All in all, it’s quite easy.

And when the time comes—

He disappears, quietly; into the dawning light, when everyone else is tucked into bed. When the city—never truly sleeping—is beginning to bustle again.

Tim burst into their lives with a bang.

He steps out of them without even a whimper.

~

Damian is the first to realize that Drake is missing.

He wishes he could say it was because he noticed—but he cannot. He discovers it when he pays a visit to Drake’s theater penthouse, and finds it empty and cold. Devoid of life.

His home has always been somewhat austere… but this is different.

Damian knows that something is wrong. He is—afraid. He texts the others immediately, asking them when the last time they heard from Drake was. It does not take them long to realize that Drake’s disappearance is unrelated to their vigilante lives; that, for all intents and purposes, it seems to be willing. Which meant— there must have been signs. Damian turns through his memories with a growing sense of desperation.

Drake is—

Complicated.

Their initial relationship was fraught. Damian will take the larger share of blame for that. When he did, eventually, somewhat reluctantly, get to know Drake—it. Changed. He gravitated towards the older man, and his perspective; often unique from either his Father or Richard. He found him a good listener, too, and while he could be dismissive—Damian’s words usually held weight to him.

It—

Was nice.

Up until Drake’s presence started to make his insides squirm. Until he found himself with ears pricked for compliments from Drake. Until he found himself gravitating to Drake’s presence—choosing to take patrols with him even when Richard was in town.

Until he spoke to Jon and realized he had all the symptoms of a schoolboy crush.

He placed distance between them, then. It wasn’t hard, though it hurt when Drake did not appear to notice beyond a few things. But it was better than facing heartbreak.

And then—

Drake drew closer.

Damian kept his distance.

Now… Regret coats his tongue in ash. If he had not pulled away… might he have noticed sooner? Might he have been able to stop whatever caused Drake to disappear?

There is no sense in ruminating on it.

The important thing is to find Drake.

With Oracle in his ear, Damian makes his way to Tim’s Perch. Logging into his computer, even with Oracle’s aid, is generally a tedious affair.

This time it is not.

He can tell by the way Gordon quiets that she likes this no more than he does.

Drake’s face appears on the screen. He looks paler. The circles around his eyes are darker. He sits in the same chair Damian sits in now, wearing civilian clothes. Something comfortable—a t-shirt that should have been thrown out years ago, a pair of leggings that conform beautifully to the curves of his legs.

“If you’re watching this,” he says, “you’ve noticed I’m gone.”

Damian’s fingers itch to pause the recording.

He does not.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s…” Drake’s face scrunches. “...shitty of me to disappear without notice like this. I promise you it was for the best.” He pauses. He looks—almost hesitant.

Damian does not want to hear what he has to say next.

He keeps listening anyway.

“I’m dying.”

Damian’s heart falls to his feet. He thinks he hears it shatter there—a silly, poetic notion brought on by reading too many of Todd’s recommendations, he’s sure, but nonetheless. Blood roars in his ears. He hears little of what Drake says next. Something about pre-recorded messages, spaced out by time, and easily accessed by Gordon.

When Gordon directs him, Damian lets her instructions carry him through.

He sends the messages; all sent to personal devices, save for a few directly to the Batcomputer. And then he makes his way back to the manor. The trip is a blur. He realizes, only when he is seated on the couch, strange looks sent his way, that he has taken a blanket from Drake’s apartment. It is a fluffy purple abomination—a gift from Brown, he’s sure. Rather than explain himself, or tuck it away, Damian unfolds it over his lap; stroking it the same way he does Alfred, when he deigns Damian’s lap a better place to sit than a patch of sun or soft cushion.

Richard’s arm settles around his shoulders, tucking him into his side as if Damian is still small. Normally he would bristle; especially since he is half a head taller than Richard himself. Today he settles without argument, letting the solid presence of his older brother be a comfort.

Brown leans against the back of the couch. Her fingers comb through his hair. He does not fight this either.

Instead he listens.

Gordon has accessed his medical records; a liberty she normally does not take. He has been diagnosed with no terminal illnesses across most of his aliases.

“Most?” Richard asks.

Gordon’s mouth pinches. “There is one. I don’t think Tim knows I know about it—though I wouldn’t rule it out. He went to a clinic in Boston, and was diagnosed with Hanahaki. He picked up medicine, then bought a bus ticket. After that, I believe he shed that identity. I haven’t been able to pick his trail back up… yet.” Gordon says ‘yet’ with such certainty, Damian believes her.

“Hanahaki…” Jason repeats. He swipes a hand down his face. “Fucking figures. One of us would be too emotionally constipated to just get over it and confess, wouldn’t we?”

Damian frowns. He pulls away from Richard’s side, Brown’s fingers slipping from his hair. “Drake left— because he was a coward?”

The words are vile and bitter on his tongue. It is an unpleasant feeling that does not even come close to touching the fire in his chest. There are two cures for the disease of love—

The first, to confess. Face rejection, or reciprocation. Allow yourself, your feelings, to be known.

The second, to have the blooms removed, and risk dulling or losing the ability to feel forever.

To choose death—

“Damian, that’s not—”

“Quiet,” he snaps. He stands, thrusting the blanket at Richard, who takes it with startled eyes. “I am going to find him, and then I am going to wring his neck.” He spins on his heel and stalks out of the room.

How dare he. How dare he.

Damian does not think he has ever been angrier. Drake, who has more audacity and daring and stubbornness than anyone Damian has ever met—who’s passion and conviction and love has held this pseudo-family together even when they were separated by the eons of time—would rather disappear, leave them all to mourn instead of swallow his foolish pride and let someone—someone with whom he has fallen in love—to see the truth of him.

Damian will find him, and his object of affection, and he will tear the words from Drake’s throat if need be.

He does not get to die.

Not like this.

[dent-de-leon]

Lastly, Leo Amicus Circle connections. I'm going to miss him ; ;

Taliesin: "Let's start with Lycoris. I'm going with Coworker. I will admit, when you talk about what you do, I kind of glaze over. I really appreciate the suit, because it makes me look good, which is a good wingman to have. But the circles you run in are definitely circles I don't run in, and that's so valuable. You're a tough nut to crack, so I always like--I really enjoy trying to get you to laugh, smile, or grimace...getting a reaction out of you is always rewarding."

"Grimoria--Confidant. I am a keeper of secrets. I know everybody's bullshit, you have to tell someone. You are more or less the only person on earth I actually more or less tell everything to. I think I probably invite you up for coffee and tea quite often, cause I'm also in the Red Lamp district, and I like to think it is really a safe haven, and you're invited up. You probably have a key to my place. So no matter what happens--sit down, we're going to have a cup of coffee. But I may talk more than you no matter what's going on..."

"Synamynt...I love it, I love the name...I put down Muse. I feel like my charms don't work well on you because I'm nothing but eye contact, and I do not know how to turn it off. I'm sure there comes a point--there are occasional points where I have to talk to you and I literally close my eyes, just to make it possible. The work that you're doing fascinates me, and I think there might be a solution to my problem that is in your problem, and so your problems interest me, because I feel like we might have some stuff in common with our damage.

"And you're smart enough to be able to actually approach it in a direction I can't. So I would like to think that I am at least trying to encourage your work however I can. Quietly. I think we would've [crossed paths before] I'm trying to see if I would've remembered...my feeling is, I would've remembered you when you were younger, because those sorts of functions were the boring ones where people trotted out their families. So it was never the wild or crazy stuff, it was Uncle Titus' Boxing Day party that is held every three years, because they have to divide it up amongst the family. And everybody's in a fucking suit, and it's vile. Oh, you would've been trotted out, like just the grandkids shown off , cleaned up. So you know, I would've been aware. There would've been that mental image of where you are because, you know, you start taking account. But I don't think I would've read a personality in you yet. But I do know your family, and you apparently--and I think I have the right read--fell delightfully very far from the tree. In a weird direction, but anything's better than that tree. (Katy: "Would you have known my mother?") Probably, yeah...Yeah, you know all the other families cause they have money. You know, money knows money, so yeah. That's possible. We can cement that. I would've at the very least known of her."

For Malcolm, I put Family. For kind of the same reason you did, which is we have the bond of where we came from, which no one really understands. That is such a very unique place. We are very different people, but in this one point, we are-- (Imari: "Connected.") --There's just no one who can know what that is. Everything else is just--'My word, you're useful and it's wonderful to have you around.' But yeah, we would not be friends if this wasn't here. In the real world, we would never talk. We both grew up in a cult, more or less."

Taliesin saying Leo likes to make the doctor laugh and smile and that Malcolm is family to him...my heart is in shambles.....

[rubydubydoo122]

Jason gets de-aged because I've seen fics of Tim or Dick being de-aged, and Bruce losing his memory, but no one has realized the potential for angst if you de-age Jason.

Also, and Author's note-- when I wrote this fic, I was using the Latino Jason Headcanon, I don't really believe in that anymore, but this chapter is heavy handed with that headcanon, but it's just filler, so you can probably skip it if you hate it.

Jason tried really hard to find Bruce after that, but he could not cross paths with him. It was like everyone was trying to stop him. 

Damian stopped him first, “I’m going to take Titus and Ace to the park. You are coming with me.”

Before Jason could even tell him that he had to talk to Bruce (because Constantine had told Jason that the spell was going to wear off, but he didn’t tell Jason when) he was being dragged out the door.

The park in Bristol was a 20 minute walk from the manor, and somehow, they didn’t need any adult accompaniment. Sure, they were trained, and they were also going to the safest park in town, but still, whenever Jason wanted to go, he had to go with Alfred, Dick, or Bruce. Though, they were also Jason’s only options for company, so maybe that’s why.

Though Titus was up to Jason’s shoulder , and Ace wasn’t much shorter, so big dogs probably helped. 

Damian dug through his backpack, threw a rope to Titus and Ace, then took a sketchbook out and sat under a tree. Jason sat down next to him and observed the park.

A lot has changed about it. A lot of the trees and benches were in different places. The walkways that had previously been a concrete sidewalk had been changed to a red rubber track, and the playground had been completely renovated. 

A part of Jason wondered if the old playground in Park Row had been fixed up in the past couple years, but he knows even if it was, it probably was ruined again by a rogue attack. Bristol could afford a clean park. It was safe.

He watched as a kid, maybe 5, walked hand in hand, bubbled in between her parents, as they lifted her up in the air every couple of steps. 

He doesn’t think he could remember Mami and Papi walking with him like that. Maybe they had moments like that when Jason was too young to remember, maybe they just never had them at all. Now, all he could remember when Mami and Papi were together was when he was under the table, hugging Sparky tight as trying to block out the sounds of glass shattering, or skin making contact with skin.

Jason’s eyes made their way back to the playground, where a kid, maybe 7, was on his dad’s shoulders gripping the monkey bars. 

He knew that Papi had loved them both. He had to take those jobs to make money for them. To take care of them. He drank to forget the crimes he did to keep the heat on, or put food on the table. If he didn’t love them, he could’ve left. If he didn’t love them, he wouldn’t have gone to prison for them.

There was a mother laying on the grass with her daughter, maybe 11, tying flowers together in a crown. 

And Mami, she had to have loved him too. Jason wasn’t even hers, yet she had loved him like his own. Even though in the end she needed the Heroin more.

Jason could feel Damian’s eyes on him. “What’s up hermanito? ” 

Damian shook his head and closed his sketchbook. “Nothing.”

That was…very convincing. “Am I your muse?” Jason pointed at the sketchbook. 

Damian shrugged and placed the book back in his bag, “I was drawing you before you…shrank. It was missing something, though now I have an idea.”

“You’ll show it to me when you’re done?”

Damian just shrugged and gave the command for Ace and Titus to come along. 

By the time they got back to the manor it was close to 6:30, and Jason really wanted to talk to Bruce. Except he ended up helping Alfred with dinner. And then Bruce wasn’t even at dinner. And then before he could sneak down to the cave to talk to him, he’d already gone out for patrol. Jason wasn’t even allowed to snoop because Alfred wouldn’t let him. 

He was standing across from Batman. In a beat up abandoned apartment. 

He had the Joker in a headlock. He had a gun in his hands. And so did Batman.

Even with the cowl on Jason could see the look of distraught that drowned Bruce’s– Batman’s face. 

“Stop this. Enough. You know I won’t–”

And that was the problem. Jason knew he wouldn’t. He knew Batman could never kill the Joker. But even after Jason revealed himself, he continued to fight him. In fact, the punches felt harder. He thought he had cared. He thought Bruce had cared about him, but he would always put the Joker first. He would always put Batman first. “All you’ve got is a headshot. I’m gonna blow his addled deranged brains out– and if you want to stop me..” He could feel the knot form around his throat, “You’re going to have to shoot me. Right in the face.” Just choose me, Bruce. Show me you still care. I’m scared, Dad. I don’t want him to hurt me anymore.“One…two… the–”

A batarang flew through the air, ricocheting off the wall and embedding itself into Jason’s neck.

He shot up clutching his neck…right where there was a scar.

No. It was just a dream. Just a dream. Batman could never. Bruce would never. 

12:23 am. Bruce probably wasn’t back from patrol yet, but Jason needed him. He needed to hear his voice, deep and soothing. He needed to feel his embrace knowing that he would protect him no matter what. Jason went to the library and waited for him

He heard Damian’s door close first, around two, and then Cass’s door further down the hall. 

Ok, so they were coming back. It shouldn’t take Bruce too long. 

It was just a dream. Why would Jason be holding a gun up to the Joker’s head? Why would he be asking Bruce to kill him?

By the time Tim got back to his room it was close to four in the morning and Jason had gotten halfway through Hamlet. Then Dicks door closed. 

Any minute now. Bruce should be coming up soon. Then thirty minutes passed, then an hour, then two, and when it turned seven, Jason was done waiting. He stormed down to the kitchen. 

It was Saturday morning, in a house filled with vigilantes, and Duke knew no one would be up. Not even Alfred. He wouldn’t be up until 9:00. Except today was his hair care day. Which was why he was up at 7:00 in the morning, nursing a cup of coffee. So was he startled when Jason came down, cursing in Spanish, looking like he got zero sleep? Yes. 

Though Jason stopped in his tracks when he realized he wasn’t alone. 

Duke knew that no one would be up until at least 12, and maybe it would be a bad idea to leave Jason alone to brood. “I have some errands to run… wanna come?”

All Jason did was shrug. 

Duke learned very early on while living at the manor that Alfred did not know how to cut black hair. And his old barber got caught in a rouge attack, so Duke just decided to grow his hair out. Then he figured out that cowls don’t fit the same when you’ve grown out your 4b hair. So he had gotten into the habit of twisting or braiding his hair on the last Saturday of every month. 

Jason probably knew that too. His hair was a little looser than Duke’s, but he still had 3c hair. Duke kinda figured the reason why Jason switched from the helmet to the hood every couple of months is so his hair doesn’t take up space in the helmet. 

They drove down to the Narrows, because that’s where the strip mall with the hair and beauty store and the convenience store is. 

“Do you… wanna tell me what’s going on?” Jason had been quiet for most of the car ride, and yeah, maybe Jason was just… quiet as a kid, but currently it was a sad kind of quiet.

Jason shrugged, “I’m just being dumb. I feel like Bruce is ignoring me, but Bruce is probably just busy now. A lot busier.”

Duke had to suppress the urge to flinch, because Bruce was definitely avoiding Jason now. After getting the news from Constantine that they were playing russian roulette with magic and Jason’s life, Bruce had shut down, and then rebooted as Batman. “I mean, he is trying to find a witch with a stick. He’s in Batman mode.”

Jason nodded, “I know. But I don’t want Batman, I just want Bruce.” 

Duke pulled into a parking space, and turned to face him. “Jason, I think you should tell him that. Or at least, physically drag him. Bruce probably needs that.”

He gave him a tiny smile, and then looked to the shop, “What’re we here to get?”

Duke tugged at one of his twists, “Gotta re-do my hair. The cowl of my suit doesn’t really fit with my fro, and I love Alfred, but the first time he cut my hair I had…”

“So many ingrown hairs.” Janson visibly cringed, “...My mami used to help me maintain my hair. She used to do little braids, but then she couldn’t. And I never learned, so it was usually really frizzy. So I started using pomade.” 

Duke patted his shoulder, “Well, I’m not the best, but I can teach you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, man. You taught me how to kick-ass. It’s only fair if I teach you how to do your hair.”

All Duke needed from the Hair and Beauty store was some mousse, but he let Jason pick out a couple of hair accessories.

“Oh my god, Duke. Duke, Duke, Duke.” Jason tapped his arm to get his attention, “They have little bats on them!” Jason held a package of hair rings that had different bat charms on them. And by bat charms, they weren’t like halloween bats, they were ‘Bats and Birds’ themed, with each of their bat-symbols. 

He picked up another set and looked over all the charms again, “I think the Signal ones glow in the dark.”

Jason cupped his hand over the charm and peeked into the mini cave he made, “That’s so cool.” Then he looked up and frowned, and motioned for Duke to lean in, “Which charm belongs to who?”

Duke couldn’t help but laugh, because of course no one told Jason which identity belongs to who, “I’ll tell you when we get home. The ones that glow in the dark are mine, though.”

Jason grinned and they went to check out.

Then they went to the convenience store, got a bunch of different types of chips, and headed back to the manor.

“Ok, So, let me get this straight. Cass was Orphan, then Batgirl, and now she’s Black Bat. Stephanie was Spoiler, then Robin, then Spoiler, now Batgirl. Tim’s Red Robin? That’s lacking creativity.”

There was a scoff that came from the kitchen, “Hey! It was between that and Drake.”

“Why didn’t you go with Drake?” Jason paused, “Ok, I get that’s your old last name, but that’s perfect. No one would think it’s you because it would completely ruin the point of a secret identity. Also, whenever a villain’s on a monologue–” Jason snickered, “You could quack at people.”

“That’s just–”

“QUACKKK!”Maybe Jason getting no sleep was catching up to him. Oh well, at least he was being silly and not upset. 

Duke set down a bag of plain potato chips for Tim, “I hate to break it to ya Tim, but you have to let go of Robin. Time to stop tweeting and start quacking.” 

“I-” “Quack!” Did Duke actually think that Drake was better than Red Robin? No. They were both equally bad. He just found it really funny. “Come on Jason.”

Jason found that doing his hair did a really good job at distracting from the dream he had last night and fact that Bruce was ign- nope, busy. He’s just busy. 

After Jason got the general motion down—twist left, cross left, on the left half of his head, and the opposite on the other half— he and Duke just started talking. Jason asked questions about his powers, and Duke didn’t seem upset by them, and then they started talking about different books, how much they did or didn’t like them, and before he knew it, Duke was finished with his whole head, and was munching on a bag of pretzels. 

Jason was done with the front portion of his head, but his arms were getting  sore and the mirror was making him mix up his left from his right. 

He felt his eyes start to burn as the twist he was currently working on came unraveled. Why couldn’t he do this? 

“Hey, it’s ok, man. The back is always the hardest part.” Duke threw out the bag and washed his hands, “Why don’t you take a little break. I can take over.”

Duke's fingers gently parted and twisted Jason’s hair, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine mami, eyes bright, heart and spirit strong. 

Jason locked eyes with Duke through the mirror, “This is the first time we’re doing this together, right?”

Duke gave him a small smile, “Yeah. It’s been nice too. Every time I do my hair, it reminds me of my mom. It's usually in a melancholy way, but with you here, it’s more…”

“Reassuring.”  It was like Duke knew exactly what he was thinking. “Like, even though she’s not here, she’s still here.”

He nodded, and as Duke finished the last twist, Jason could see the grief flash across his face, until it was replaced with something more hopeful, and then determination, “We’re doing this again. Next month. We can do it at your place if you want to, but we’re doing this again .” 

Jason turned around and smirked, “You really thought this would be a one time thing?”

“It better not be.”

Because everyone woke up at different times, there wasn’t really a set lunch time, but everyone was there for dinner. Everyone except for Bruce. Again.

Maybe Jason would’ve been fine with that, if it wasn’t for the fact that he hadn’t seen Bruce at all.

“Hey Alfred, is Bruce in the cave?”

Alfed set down a bowl of roasted vegetables on the table with a sigh, “Yes, Master Jason.”

“Great. I’ll go get him.” and he got up and headed towards the cave.

He heard the sound of chair legs scraping against the floor, “Jason, hold up,”

Nope. Dick wasn’t going to stop him.

He got to the bottom of the staircase and froze when he caught sight of Bruce. Of Batman . Even though it had been hours since he had woken up from the nightmare, the image of him throwing the batarang, the feeling of the blade digging into his skin felt almost like a memory.

Jason crossed his arms, “You’re breaking rules #1 and #2.”

Batman stared blankly at him, and Christ on a stick, he did not get any sleep did he? “How–”

“You left me with the batcomputer unsupervised.” Jason gave Bruce his best imitation of Alfred’s you’ve messed up ™ look. 

Not that Bruce was even looking at him. It was like the first night all over again. Jason rubbed the scar on his neck before marching up to Batman, “Cowl off.”

Batman didn’t even dignify him with a response. 

“I want Bruce, not Batman.”

They held each other's gaze, and for a second, Jason thought Bruce was just going to turn right back around, but he didn’t. He reached up and pulled down the cowl, revealing his eyebags to be darker than usual, and his eyes were slightly pink. 

Probably from looking at the computer all day, because Batman doesn’t cry. 

Though Bruce was currently looking at him with a look of concern. “Are you ok, Jason?”

“No. I’m upset with you.” Jason took a step forward, because Bruce was somehow less intimidating than Batman. Even though they were the same person. “You do realize your brooding has an effect on other people, right? Because you kinda just left in the middle of my mystical diagnosis, and you didn’t even bother telling me when the effects would wear off. And I was waiting for you, ya know? In the library, but you never came up because you were busy brooding, and I haven’t seen you the entire day, and I wasn’t sure if I did something wrong—“

“No! No. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Bruce cupped his face, “Jay, lad, did you wait the entire night for me?”

He looked away. 

“I just got caught up in everything. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you didn’t matter to me. Because you do.  I don’t think words could describe just how important you are to me.”

Jason wrapped his arms around Bruce’s torso, “I know. I know. I just… had a bad dream last night, and I really— I just wanted to see you.” He murmured into the armor. 

He felt Bruce’s arms wrap around his shoulders, “I’m here now. What do you need from me?”

“I’m still upset with you, but if you come up for dinner and then watch a movie with us, maybe I could forgive you.”

Jason pulled away and Bruce took him in, “I like your hair by the way. Are those little bats?”

Jason grinned and nodded, “Duke and I are matching. The Signal ones glow in the dark.”

Dick was pretty sure everyone in the manor could tell that Bruce was starting to go on a downward spiral. So imagine their shock when Jason got him out from the batcave. Not only that, but Jason had also somehow managed to convince Bruce to join them for movie night. Bruce hasn’t joined them for a movie night, unless it was the end, in years, but hey, Dick wasn’t complaining. Just suddenly reminded of the fact that Jason was definitely the favorite at this age. 

“What movie should we watch?” Dick jumped over the back of the couch and grabbed the remote. 

Tim flopped onto the loveseat, but then sat up so Cass could sit behind him. “If you try to get us to watch another Disney movie, I’m leaving.” 

Jason turned his head to Dick so fast, he was afraid he would get whiplash, “You never wanna watch musicals when I suggest them.”

…and yeah, Dick stopped watching musicals by the time he was 14 and thought he was too cool to watch them whenever Jason wanted to watch them. It’s just, after Jason had died, and Dick was missing him, he would go on a Disney movie marathon, or watch any of the musicals Jason had suggested, but Dick had just scoffed at at the time. Now they had become Dicks comfort movies “You’ve converted me”

“So you’re saying, if I asked you to put on Frozen—“

“I’d ask one or two.”

He saw the realization settle on Jason’s face, “it’s 2023. That means Frozen II has been out for four years.”

Damian groaned, “We are not watching Frozen II. If I have to listen to Richard shriek Into the Unknown I will peel my ears from my head.”

“What about The Lion King.” Jason suggested. 

Duke shrugged, “As long as it’s not the live action.”

Jason looked bewildered “There’s a live action?”

“It’s not good. And we’re not watching the Lion King, Dick is going to sob at Mufasas death, and then we have to pause it.” Tim reached for the blanket that was draped over the arm of the sofa, “What about Jurassic Park?”

“Drake, we’ve seen that as many times as we’ve seen Tangled.”

“So? I don’t see you coming up with any suggestions.”

“All of my suggestion are always vetoed by Father or Richard.”

“Wait, can we watch Tangled?”

“No. Dick will sing every single song.” Duke hopped into the armchair. 

“Hey! That entire soundtrack is elite.”

“ Mother knows best, At Last I see the Light, I Have a dream? Top tier.”

“See, Jason gets me.” Dick placed his legs on Jason’s lap, but he shoved them off. 

“No. Dick, you don’t get to say that after saying that Beaty and the Beast was a little kids movie. Do you know how much that hurt my heart and soul?” Jason put a hand to his chest and leaned into Bruce, “Tell him, old man.”

Bruce almost had a fond look on his face, “That we should watch Beauty and the Beast?”

Tim shook his head, “Nope, Dick will pull one of us in to Waltz with him.”

Cass giggled, “I think it’s fun.”

“Yeah but then the rest of us can’t watch.”

Bruce reached over and snatched the remote out of Dicks hand, “I’ve got an idea.”

“If it’s James Bond, I’m doing whatever stunts are done in the movie next time I’m out on patrol.”

“Jason, you already make it a point to do one movie stunt per patrol. Where do you think most of B’s gray hairs come from?” 

Jason shrugged, “Damian.”

“Todd!”

Duke smirked, “Nah, Damian’s the cause of Dicks gray hairs.”

“I do not have gray hair!”

“It’s ok, Dickiebird. It’s normal for 30 year olds to have gray hair.”

“Oh my god! Jason. I’m not 30! I’m 27.”

Bruce ended up putting on Mission Impossible. Mostly because he knew he could finish the mission before Tom Cruise did, but also because he could tell that Jason didn’t get any sleep, and he finds action movies boring. And sure enough, not even halfway through the movie, he felt Jason slump onto his shoulder. 

Bruce knew that the rest of his kids were taking pictures, and he also knew that Jason probably would hate all of them by the time he was back to normal. 

If he went back to normal. 25/25/50 chance . It wasn’t good odds. At all. What if Bruce didn’t have the chance to mend his relationship with him? What if 20 year old Jason died thinking that Bruce didn’t care about him? What if—

The Kremlin exploded on screen, and suddenly, Jason was feeling too limp on his shoulder. 

No. No no no no no. 

The air felt thick like smoke was filling the air. The only thing he could see was the rubble of a warehouse. The only thing he could see was his son, limp, beaten and bloody. The green of his suit soaked brown, the yellow cape splattered red.

No. Jason was alive. 

Bruce placed his hand on Jason’s wrist, and felt for a pulse. 

It was there. Beating strong. 

Slowly the air became less thick, and he realized that Tom Cruise was sneaking out of a hospital building. 

Magic really sucks. 

[ewesless]

Some Songs

I don't have as many songs for OM characters as I have had for others, but I wrote down some that inspire me or make me think of them. Will update periodically because I have more than this, but my poor little brain is doing its very, very best and that isn't good enough

Barbatos: Gary Numan - My Name is Ruin, End of Things, Pray for the Pain You Serve, It All Began with You / A Perfect Circle - Pet / Jen Titus - O Death / Hidden Citizens - Swan Lake / CHVRCHES or The Muse - Lies

Nightbringer: A Perfect Circle - Counting Bodies Like Sheep, KMFDM - Bait and Switch

Solomon: Gary Numan - The End of Dragons / Tool - Jambi / Reuben and the Dark - Out of my Mind, Hallelujah / AWOLNATION - Run

Various: Gary Numan - Dead Sun Rising / Reuben and the Dark - Woke up a Rebel / Ghost - Call me Little Sunshine

....Leviathan: S3RL - MTC 😂