#shippy's writing

[shipsgaysfordays]

Chapter 1: Introduction

finally getting the first chapter of “but if you feel like i feel, please let me know it’s real” out, so that’s exciting. here’s the ao3 link if people prefer that.

so yeah, finally my Minnie and Poppy fic, here it is. we start with the fluff but in later chapters we’ll get to some angst.

also, i want it to be known that this fic is so fucking far away from cannon and you fuckers better not start complaining about that now.

After a long time of studying medical magic at St. Mugos, Poppy Pomfrey made the decision to finally go to the school that always struck her curiosity, Hogwarts. Despite having been homeschooled in magic, the school always intrigued her. A new situation to tackle, a huge group of people, students and teachers all around…children. Now surrounded by students and teachers who know the school like the back of their hand, she feels like a bit of a fish out of water. At least she’s not the only new staff to the school. 

A gorgeous woman, called Mc���Something, Poppy hadn’t entirely learned the names, there were so many to attempt to memorize, it was all a bit much. Everything was a bit much, so she put her head down and focused on the injuries, on her job, that was all. She’d always been taught to know her place, and Poppy always sort of knew she was more of a side character, a bit less important, just do your job and that’s it. But when she caught sight of that green green gown, or the pinned up swirling brown hair, Poppy would wonder: what more is there to this life? Why does this woman capture all my thoughts? I need to just focus again, but I can’t with her image always coming back to the forefront of my mind. What adventures has she been through? What stories does she have to say? I’ve done so little and she has the confidence of having done so much. 

Poppy turned a corner, back to her brewing pot, new medications to be made, this was all to worry over when the medical wing was this close to empty due to it being the beginning of the year. 

…

Minerva racked her brain for hours and hours, why don’t I recognize her, we must have gone to school together for ages, we’re just about the same age? I would know those eyes, those ice blue eyes that make my heart race just a little bit too much. As she flipped through the pages of her textbook, making sure to think through any questions or mistakes that could occur in her first lesson, Minnie’s mind could not escape from the meal in the great hall just a few minutes prior. 

The long process of sorting that was a bit of a bore given the years upon years that she had had to sit through the ceremony as a student, except this time she would be observing as a teacher, trying to ensure the students wouldn’t be misbehaving during the torturously boring time of watching first years. Though, wondering about the personalities of these children did intrigue the new teacher, just who would be a troublemaker and who might decide to make her life just the slightest bit easier (unlikely to happen but a lady could hope). 

Her eyes also darted to the students around, some of whom she used to tutor, but now she wasn’t just Minerva the seventh year quidditch hotshot, now she was a teacher. There was a small sense of anxiety over if they would respect that, Dumbledore would make sure they did, McGonagall could make sure they did—still, there was that anxiety there. 

As she laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, hoping to brush aside the worries, think of something else, anything else from the day. Ice blue. No, not this, I’m not–I’m not having a stupid crush ruin my life again…but, ice blue, sky blue. A sky blue you could fly in.

…not again.

…

At least Poppy didn’t feel so useless within the first few days, students constantly coming in with new ailments, and even a teacher who seems to get herself into trouble just a bit too often. Something about flying higher and higher, it was always quite dangerous, Poppy didn’t understand this school’s obsession with it. 

It made the hospital wing quite busy, just a bit too busy, but nothing the medi-witch couldn’t handle. Or at least nothing she wouldn’t have to handle. Plus there were some 6th and 7th year volunteers that came in every so often to help with simple recovery spells or to try (and most often fail) at replicating certain healing potions, but slowly but surely the students were gaining their skills as they came in again and again, practicing. 

A part of her began to understand why people go into this education thing, that look of eureka in a kid's eyes, the amount of simple joy that could bring was honestly a magic of its own.

…

The beaming late afternoon light shone through the medical wing making the cots appear to glow, it was all quite beautiful the brightness brought warmth to the currently sterile and empty room. Thankfully that Sunday had been pretty calm for Poppy, a few healing potions here and there, but no serious injuries or complex magic. Over the weekends the kids didn’t seem to work themselves to the bone, at least not as much as certain teachers, Poppy’s mind remarked as a certain professor with pinned up curling brown hair dragged her feet into the hospital wing yet again.

“Back so soon?” Poppy remarked.

The young professor gave a pained smile back, “Well someone needs to give you company on such a beautiful day.”

“By this point I fear you just never want to leave the hospital wing, you know there’s a world out there, right?”

“Oh, I know far too well. That world just happens to be a pain in my–” the woman covered her mouth and coughed, “heh, never know when the children are around. Sometimes one slips up…”

“What happened this time Professor…..?” Poppy trailed off.

“McGonagall, Minerva McGonagall, though my friends call me Minnie.”

“Have I heard some of the students call you Minnie too?”

“I haven’t been away from the school all that long,” Minnie’s eyes darted around the room, “anyways, to the business of me being here. While doing some flying practice I happened to get just a smidge distracted and…well this world decided that due to that fatal error it would give me as much pain as possible.”

“Quite a fall?”

Minerva nodded, “Quite. A. Fall.”

“Well, relax a moment, let me see what I can give you.”

Glass rattled and clanked around as Poppy sorted through the vials, jars, and general equities of her storage. Something for the aching, something to strengthen those bones, something for–

Pomfrey was brought out of her mind as she heard Minnie’s accent across the room, “You know, it’s quite unfair now.”

“What’s that?” Poppy peaked her head out, raising her eyebrows at the professor.

“Well now you know something about me, yet I know nothing of you.”

“I know your name, I would have learned it sooner or later.”

“And I still don’t know yours, and that’s just unfair,” Minnie faked a pout, though her smile was very clearly seeping through her mouth. 

“Pomfrey.”

“What?” the lady held a hand to her ear.

“Oh, have I got to check your hearing too now?”

“You’re muttering across the room, sorry if I don’t have the hearing of a hound, Miss…Pomey?” Minerva moved her arms and hands around, almost like conducting an orchestra of sass and sarcasm, it was honestly quite impressive to see this young confident woman. Though a bit more intimidating to be in a conversation with when all one can focus on is the movements of her fingers, or the way the light shines in her eyes. Nothing Pomfrey could think of for too long. 

“Pomfrey,” she finally corrected, “Poppy Pomfrey, there you go, now we’re even.”

“Not quite.”

“Oh, and what’s this now? Some new rule to your game?” Poppy sauntered next to the woman, holding out a vile. In a more professional tone adding, “Drink this, you’ll feel better.”

Minnie swigged it down in one go, drawing her head back as she did so, then immediately began speaking after swallowing it down, “Well, you see, I know exactly what you do at this school but you have no clue about me. I have the upper hand.”

“You’re a professor.”

“What do I teach?” she grinned as Poppy looked into her mind, trying to remember what it was Dumbledore had said about McGonagall that first night, that grand dinner. 

“Minerva I’m just here for my job. I’m just here for the kids you know, you’re just an added bonus.”

“And I feel quite the same, though it could be fun to try and get to know each other Poppy, Mediwitch of Mystery,” Minnie stood up next to the woman. 

Poppy held her hand out, Minnie thankfully returned the awkward favor and the two ladies shook hands, “Nice to properly meet you, Minerva.”

“Nice to meet you too, Poppy, if you ever want to drop by for a chat or a biscuit I’d love to talk.”

“I can tell, though I’m unsure if I could find the time. Medical wing is always busy, even certain teachers come in here needing my attention, could you imagine?”

“I couldn’t, though I must say, the fair share of fellow professors I’ve met have not been as cordial as I.”

“Nor as mysterious, though I’d love to drop by for a biscuit when I have time, I wouldn’t know where to find you.”

“Then I’ll find you,” Minnie smiled as she turned and left the wing. 

She’ll find me? Poppy raised her eyebrows, feeling just a bit of warmth in her face that hadn’t been there before. Must be the sun though, because of all the open drapes, must be the sun. 

[tubbytarchia]

Missed drawing these two too

Bonuses

[asilentguardian]

Thinking about Tim being the second batkid to get married, after Dick. Thinking about how Bruce's hair is really starting to grey now, and how he goes out at night less and less frequently. Tim's wedding is a less public one, so most of the Justice League is there, and as the night goes on Bruce and Hal keep drifting towards each other. And Bruce sees his kids, older now, confident and healing and laughing with each other all night. They'll always need him, and he'll always need them, but even Damian has started handling things on his own. So for the first time, Bruce lets himself look at Hal. Really look. And he finds that Hal looks back. Maybe he's always looked at Bruce like that, and Bruce has definitely always stolen looks and wondered: what if? So they talk all night, disguise it as carefully contained bickering. They hover, exchange glances. Bruce leaves with Hal's hand resting in his back pocket and has a brief pang of regret that he didn't let himself have this sooner. Didn't let himself notice the heat in Hal's gaze, or the curve of his jaw. But Hal goes home with him that night, and he never seems to leave.

[vivitalks]

we don't talk about it enough but duck and billy's relationship in amnesty is truly a tragic one.

imagine: you rescue a mindless drone. you save his life, you give him autonomy, you give him language. you teach him trust. you protect him at your own expense. you name him billy. he knows three words in your language, and one is your name. you promise to keep him safe, and he betrays his programming to help you in return. he defies everything he was designed to do in order to aid you.

you save him from being a drone, but in doing so, you kill him. he was never supposed to be here this long. you gave him freedom at the cost of rapid decay, and now he's dying. and if he could just go back to his home planet, he would live, but he doesn't want to. because you're here. duck newton, his first friend, his savior, his guardian. you showed him that there is a better way to live - with free will, with pizza and playstations.

he's damned if he stays and damned if he goes. but you can't watch him suffer. that's not who you are. you're duck newton, local beefcake, defender of the disadvantaged. so you wait until he's engrossed in his video game - in humanity, in freedom of choice - and you strike him down out of mercy.

billy reverts to his original form: a four-armed being of light, once a drone, now a friend. he's beginning to disintegrate, but he has unfinished business here. he never finished his video game. and you give him one last gift of mercy: you lie to him. don't worry, you tell him - that character you're worried about? she's fine in the end. no, i know it seems bleak now, but she turns out okay.

you can't give him anything else, so you give him hope. it's the same thing he gave to you, all those months ago when you saved him.

[strohller27]

I'm sorry EXCUSE ME LADS but what is this ABSOLUTE SLEEPOVER BEHAVIOUR I'M

Hastings: Poirot are you asleep.

Poirot: yes

Hastings: oh good. me either. wasn't that seance thing that happened at dinner so creepy lol how do they do that

Poirot: *does that*

Hastings: OMG THAT'S AMAZING HOW DID YOU DO THAT

Poirot: yes. so amazing. alas it is only guesswork. now shut up and let me sleep

they're so funny I'm never gonna be normal about this

[willowser]

i had to call the awful evil witch from tech support at my job today, and it had me thinking about getting the little error message and feeling your heart sink and you lean over to your coworker to whine,

"i have to call and get an override,"

and she snorts because she knows what that means, and despite what she says—there is an evil little gleam in her eye. "maybe midoriya will pick up."

you throw your head back dramatically, letting it hang over the chair until you feel the blood rushing to your ears. "i never get midoriya! what menu options are you choosing to get him, because it's never him for me!"

your coworker shrugs, turning from her computer again to smirk at you. "i don't know, man, it's just whoever picks up."

you stare at the window box in the center of your computer, the red ! at the front of a set of codes you loathe to see. hard as you try to find hope that you'll get lucky and izuku will pick up the phone—you don't think it's likely.

"will you call for me?"

"oh my god, just do it already."

and that's how you end up biting at your thumbnail, staring down at the phone on your desk as the automated voice greets you—happily—and begins to list out the different menu options. you consider choosing something random, to see if that will get you to a different, nicer member of the support team, but you wait too long and the options repeat and you decide to just bite the bullet.

it only rings for a moment before you get,

"task solutions. 's'bakugou."

you roll your eyes up to the ceiling and back and snap to stare at your coworker, mouthing a soundless 'fuck!' as she bursts into a fit of laughter.

"y'got five seconds before i hang up the—"

"sorry, hi, sorry! hi! i'm here!" you muster up all the kindness you can, smiling politely so that it will transfer in your voice. "i just need an override, please."

there's not much he says that he doesn't have to, only grunting in acknowledgement when you give him your name and employee id, read off the error message that brought you into the lion's den.

the support team for your company works off-site, so you've never met him. bakugou. hardly know anything about him outside of the name he barks out when answering the phone, and you don't think you'd like to, really.

it's incredibly frustrating to have to call him for help because he knows the system better than you do, knows your job better than you do—and is quick to call it out when your math is wrong or your input is off. if validation didn't fail every once in a while when the program is overloaded you'd be fine—but here you are.

a tense silence fills between the phone as he works, and you know he can only log in and see your screen but it feels like he's watching you, entirely. to be polite, you ask, "are you, uh, goin' to conference this year?"

the silence becomes a void, all consuming, before he murmurs out a sharp, "no."

"oh, bummer," you chuckle nervously, sweat building on the back of your neck as you watch his mouse click around on your screen. "are midoriya and iida going?"

bakugou sighs, heavy with frustration. "probably," he answers, though, to your surprise. "they like to sit around and do fuck—nothin' all day at the damn booth."

you've been by the task solutions booth every year at conference, mostly because they hand out nice steel cups with metal straws, but the faces you've seen there are never unfamiliar. for a moment, you try to imagine it: walking up to get your free goodie from some sour asshole, only to have him bark at you as you try to reach for it.

the mouse stops in the bottom corner of your screen, hesitating. you hold your breath. this is usually when he chastises you for something he makes sound so simple.

"you goin'?"

"uh," your mouth hangs open for a second, because this is the most you've ever spoken to him that didn't involve scolding of some kind. "yeah, yeah! our team will be there for day 2!" there's a soft hum from the other end, and you see the opportunity for what it is: a chance to get on good terms with this guy, so you can stop being so afraid to call the help desk. "you should go! i don't—i don't think we've ever met before."

it's hard to tell how he takes that, but you only assume not well considering your screen flashes as he logs off, taking the error message with him.

"uh, yeah, whatever," he grumbles, "is there—you need anythin' else?"

"oh, nope! that's it, thanks!"

"alright," the line doesn't disconnect immediately and you curl into yourself, as if you could hear anything else by pressing the phone harder to your ear. then he says, "later." and is gone.

[ajokeformur-ray]

My thoughts on Jareth

If none of these thoughts or concepts are original or if they're canon elsewhere, then I'm unaware because I've never read any of the novelisations or comics etc. These thoughts are all based on over twenty years of loving this film; it raised me while I raised my younger siblings.

4.9k words, written during Labyrinth's 1 hour 41 minute runtime. Unedited.

Hesitant to post but doing it anyway because a friend read it last night and liked it enough to encourage me to post it.💖

I think a lot of who Jareth is, is contained within his music - “lost and lonely... no love injection... no one can blame you for walking away... don't tell me truth hurts, little girl, because it hurts like hell... that's underground.” - in this last one, he's telling her who he is and how his world works. He's lonely, the only one of his kind Underground, and in the end credit song it's rather heavily implied that his sister wished him away when they were children, and he begged for his daddy to come and get him, but he was never rescued and rather reluctantly was forced to become the King of the Goblins, somehow. Jareth knows the truth hurts, towards the end of the film he's hurting but he can't and won't stop it, because Sarah is his downfall and he knows it. He's doomed to shrivel up within her as a very strong childhood figure, lost and stagnant within her imagination, while Sarah will, at some point, grow up and thrive because of the lessons he taught her, the friends he gave her (or the creatures he put in her path, if you'd prefer to think of it like that) and his presence in her life. He was there for her when she was lost and lonely and wanting to escape from all of it. Jareth caught her as her world fell down, but when he fell... no one was there to catch him. He's doomed by his own narrative.

He watches her rehearse from the book he gave her in the park – he's getting to know her and who she is in the moments when no one's watching. A teenage girl who has had a traumatic time – the death of her mother/her parent's divorce and her father's remarriage (canon is shaky on whether her mother died or left to become a Hollywood actress and so her father remarried after their divorce, so I've included both possibilities for the sake of being thorough), the birth of a new sibling and the parentification that elder siblings get stuck with most of the time, – and is stuck in the uncomfortable stage of still being a child but not quite an adult. He's an owl while he watches her – suspicious in broad daylight but hidden; Sarah clearly thought nothing of it, and perhaps he was indulging her, giving her the audience and attention she craved, but also giving her and himself the company they both need - “lost and lonely”is repeated in the opening song; it's common ground they both share and is therefore a theme within the narrative. Jareth uses his music to speak, as do we all. Music binds love and humanity together, and Sarah's time in the park, her rehearsals, is clearly a more tangible deep dive into the world inside her mind – a world in which she is a heroine up against a villain who is as strong and powerful as she is, and an escape from her real life, which is always shattered by the chiming of the clock. Just like Cinderella, another fairy tale. This parallel with clocks, big white Cinderella ballroom dresses and reality shattering a fantasy, is evident also in the As The World Falls Down scene, in which Jareth's devastation is made clear. (More on this later!)

“But what no one knew, was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers” - here's where my main theory starts. Jareth is doomed by the narrative – his own narrative – because it's been constructed by a teenage girl who doesn't know quite yet who she wants to be, and this narrative has been constructed because of the powers he gave her. Jareth doomed himself by falling in love with Sarah and he knows it, but he's powerless to resist because it's in the narrative that he can't. This ties into the “fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave” scene later on, because Jareth is simply declaring them as equals with that line. He already fears the power she has over him, as she has revoked his power over her (or, the power that his character in her story has over her), he already loves her, he already is her slave, and he is already scared of what she could do, because now Sarah has realised that, while she does have to grow up and be a better person, she still has the time for childhood, and that is what she chooses in her rejection of Jareth; she chooses her childhood, delaying adulthood for a few years more. She's only fifteen, so I can't say I disagree with her decision.

Instances in which Sarah could have been harmed but she was not, showing that Jareth never intended her any actual harm and was merely fulfilling his role:

Threw a 'snake' at her, which turned into a soft furry goblin the second it came into contact with her (role here: Sarah wanted to be like the heroine she reads about in Labyrinth, so Jareth gave her a villain to go up against. He said it himself, he only took Toby because she asked him to. Prior to this, the only involvement he had in her life was giving her the book. Otherwise, he was a content silent spectator of this fascinating human who lives with her head in the clouds.)

Sarah got the riddle at the door right and she would have been able to progress through the tunnel into a deeper part of the Labyrinth, but then she said - “I think I'm getting smarter.” (this is confidence and therefore went unpunished; the trap door didn't open) “this is a piece of cake” (this did get her punished, because there's a fine line between confidence and arrogance and she tipped over the edge, so for being arrogant, Jareth hindered her progress and sent her into an Oubliette where Hoggle was waiting for her because, again, Jareth does not want to harm her. He's not an actual villain. He's doing this because she's written him as HER villain and he's merely doing what she asked him to do. Again.Another lesson here; he humbled her immediately and played the role of a mentor/guardian). She could have been hurt when she fell through, but she wasn't. There were Helping Hands to guide her way down gently, and then Hoggle was ready and waiting to take her to another part of the Labyrinth. No harm came to her, even though it very easily could have; Jareth could have let her fall through unguided, with no help on the way down. But, he opened up the world beneath her, and then manipulated his own world to catch her fall, like he promises in the romantic song As The World Falls Down (more on this later). For the second time, he threatened but did not fully follow through.

The cleaners!!! Second time Sarah got arrogant – this time, she looked down before she said “it's a piece of cake” so she was lying about it, and you do not lie to fae! So, Jareth punished her with the cleaners. This was a little more high stakes in terms of harm, but at the end of the corridor is a readily marked part of the wall which is obviously cut out with a darker arch around the outside and weakened enough for a teenage girl to push against it just enough to knock it over right before the cleaners got there and then there's a ladder taking her to safety away from the tunnels???? There is no way that's accidental – everything in the Labyrinth which challenges Sarah is put there by Jareth, who can manipulate his heart (I think the Labyrinth is a metaphysical representation of his heart – more on this later) – or, his world – to his own wants. He humbled her yet again but also punished her for lying to him (to herself, technically, since this story is hers), and gave her a good scare in the process. Sometimes, we need a good dose of fear, and Sarah clearly wants adventure and some excitement in her life!

The Bog of Eternal Stench – What I find interesting here is that Jareth spoke presumably through one of his crystals to warn Hoggle against throwing away the poisoned peach in a god-like over-seeing manner – this was an overt intervention. But minutes before that, he did nothing to prevent Ludo, Sir Didymus and Hoggle all working together to save Sarah from falling into the Bog when the bridge broke. We know from that exchange with Hoggle and previous scenes that he watches Sarah's progress and he manipulates his world/heart at will to hinder/help her, but in this particular moment when she is actually in danger, and not through his or anyone else's fault, Jareth does nothing to prevent his subjects from helping her. Therefore, he never intends to harm her, and I fully believe that if Ludo hadn't been successful in summoning up the rocks to save Sarah, that a barn owl would have swooped in out of nowhere and stopped her from getting hurt/falling into the Bog. There's a strong branch right above where she falls, and there are enough rocks in the Bog to get Sarah to safety. The world of the Labyrinth is built for Sarah because she's at the core of everything Jareth does and stands for. She has to get to the centre of the Labyrinth because the castle represents the core of Jareth's heart. Why else would he be so proactive the closer she gets, with the threats of danger becoming more real and yet she narrowly avoids harm every time? Jareth's mischief is just enough to scare but never enough to hurt Sarah. This over-seeing intervention in times of danger also happens when she jumps in the Escher room – Jareth gentles her descent so she lands delicately on her feet before he steps out through an alcove, implying that he was watching her and intervened when he needed to so that she wasn't hurt. It's no coincidence that all of her friends are able to help Sarah in some way! Sir Didymus' role is intellectual stimulation, giving Sarah the adult conversation she's craving, challenging her to challenge herself. She rises to the challenge every time, and Jareth's lesson here is that sometimes we just have to ask for help - “well, do I have your permission?” - sometimes things aren't always as they seem, but sometimes they are that simple. Family is loyal to family, which is chosen and not decided – Ludo and Sir Didymus are clearly different species, and yet they decide they are brothers and honour that throughout the rest of the film.

Instances in which he aided her progress through the Labyrinth because his real intention is to help her grow up, to help her become who she is supposed to be:

Had Hoggle stationed at the gate of the Labyrinth as her way in, but also as her first friend; we cannot travel through life or growth alone and a being as lonely as Jareth would know this. I feel like Hoggle represents Sarah's stubbornness & her inability to accept help or friendship when it comes from an honest place. “Hoggle is Hoggle's friend!” // “Hoggle, you coward!” - Sarah frequently says “it's not fair!” and doesn't accept responsibility for her actions, so here Jareth has prepared Hoggle to be Sarah's mirror – holding him up so that Sarah can see the error of her ways by observing her behaviour in someone else and realise why it's wrong. Also - “Who are you?” / “Sarah.” / “That's what I thought.” = Hoggle KNEW that Sarah was coming. The journey through the Labyrinth is one big lesson Jareth constructed, because stories have morals and they're meant to teach us about perspectives and other such things about life. So in a way, Jareth turned the powers he gave Sarah against her.

The worm at the wall who told Sarah how to get through the walls/access the actual Labyrinth instead of running through the outer walls; though, Jareth is a fae and Sarah needs to learn to be less naïve/stop taking things at face value so much, especially from strangers or people she doesn't know very well, so the worm lied about which way to go. Nothing is fair in life and this was Jareth's first little reminder for the important lesson. He said it himself - “You say that so often. I wonder what your basis for comparison is.” - which means, all the times he was in the park with her, he never quite figured that out = it's a part of Sarah she needs to work on, because if a silent spectator can't understand something revisited often, then it's likely not a valid viewpoint.

Hoggle frequently tells Sarah that she should give up, stop, turn back, not continue, and every time, Sarah snaps back and says she's not quitting or giving up, she's come too far. This links to my previous point about Hoggle, but here, Hoggle is showing Sarah that she can do something when she wants to, she can be responsible when she needs to be (by this stage of the film, she has accepted the consequences of her actions and has resolved to 'save' her brother from Jareth's very generous babysitting services), and that perseverance and a certain degree of being stubborn is necessary in life. The world doesn't stop when you're tired and Hoggle's role here is to nurture Sarah's resilience. She's already endured so much, “you've run so long, you've run so far” (Within you), and she can endure it better and easier when she has friends/a support network to get through it. Additionally, Sarah and Hoggle are both less resistant to each other's help and friendship as the film progresses – the reflection is completing itself, the mirror isn't needed so much as Sarah grows through the Labyrinth. Jareth has seen her potential through shining moments in Aboveground, and he's trying to help her reach it as best as he can, given he's a figment of her imagination and he knows it. By the end of the film, she's accepting her potential a little more, but isn't quite ready to step into it.

Ludo! His role is to reaffirm that things aren't always what they seem, and to teach Sarah that appearances are deceiving; Ludo is supposed to look scary, but in reality he's a big teddy bear who is resourceful (he uses rocks in times of trouble, or, translated into our world, he does what he can with what he has – an important lesson), afraid of the unknown but willing to venture forth if he has a friend beside him (and this humanises him in Sarah's eyes and makes it easier for her to befriend him), and he's bullied by others for things he can't control (i.e. being strung upside down because he's “a big yeti” and goblins like causing trouble). Ludo's role is to teach Sarah that face value isn't valuable all of the time, and his resourcefulness saves her multiple times. As the King of the Goblins, Jareth knows absolutely anything and everything which goes on in the Underground, and there is no way that he didn't deliberately choose the creatures he did to aid Sarah in her journey. They all fulfil a specific purpose and mirror a part of Sarah back to her so she can change her ways by seeing them in others and realising there's another way. Ludo is a big cuddly teddy bear who gives Sarah a hand to hold, he saves her, he keeps her company, and gives her some comic relief too. He may also be very slight practice for going back home to Toby, like when he gets the door handle stuck in his mouth and Sarah has to help him with it. Jareth here nurtures Sarah's kind nature – she makes friends everywhere she goes and is willing to forgive when Hoggle commits wrongs (abandoning her when they are afraid, giving her a poisoned fruit under the pretense of giving her actual food – which Sarah should have known not to accept, but sometimes we can't see the red flags even when they punch us in the face, and this may have been another lesson from Jareth, or perhaps it was his only way into fulfilling another of his roles; romance.)

This is where things start to fall apart for Jareth. When he says, “friends?” to Hoggle, the bitter undertone in his voice reeks of jealousy. He wants to at least be friends with Sarah, this human whom he's watching grow, but because of the multiple roles and challenges she has written for him to fulfil for her (as a figment of her own imagination, hence why he looks like David Bowie because, in the beginning, we see newspaper clippings of Sarah's mother with David Bowie, so there's a strange Electra-esque situation going on with Jareth looking like Sarah's mother's boyfriend), he's unable to be friends with her. His narrative has him being the villain, the challenger, the threat, the teacher, the nurturer, this all-knowing figure who holds a strange power over her (powers he gave her were then turned onto him and then turned back onto Sarah when she rejects him at the end), the suitor, and, above all else, the life lesson. Nowhere in the narrative she constructed is there room for friendship. He “can't live without her sunlight” (her attention on him), he “can't live without (her) heartbeat” (Within You) because Jareth literally exists within Sarah. He will dessicate inside her, shrivel up within her imagination and become a distant childhood figure as she grows up, while she will flourish and thrive because of everything he did for her when she was younger. And the worst of it is, Jareth is self-aware and he knows this, but he's doomed to do it all anyway because it's his narrative. He is a self-fulfilling prophecy, he's watching his own car crash and he's powerless to stop it because a teenage girl took the powers he gave her and made everything happen between them like it does. He does everything she asks of him, against his better judgement in some cases, and yet she still doesn't accept his love (which, if we follow the metaphor, is actually adulthood as a concept because he's nurturing her – another of his roles) and he's known all along that this doesn't end well for him (“don't tell me truth hurts, little girl, 'cuz it hurts like hell”) but he can't – or won't – try to change it.

The Garbage Lady who leads Sarah into a reproduction of her bedroom to try to trick her into thinking she is home until she opens her bedroom door – Jareth reminds her of what is important – her brother – and 'tests' her by presenting her with all of the material things she values in her bedroom; her childhood slippers and toys, but then she sees the Labyrinth book and she remembers her brother – she chooses reality over fiction and chooses responsibility over fiction, though she still leans into it when it is piled on top of her. Here, Jareth is showing her a balance between the two. They're both important, and they both have their place in helping us to do what we need to.

As The World Falls Down is a scene in which I think, while Jareth is fulfilling the role Sarah has given him as her suitor, he's also being quite vulnerable. Not with her, necessarily, he's teasing her by disappearing into the crowd and he makes her look for him. He makes her chase him, rather than him being the one who is chasing. And then, when he's had his fun, he finds her like he was watching her the entire time and knew exactly where she was and who she was with (notice that when the camera pans, he is always looking at her and barely glances at the other fae who address him in some way). He sweeps her into his arms and they dance. Sarah wanted romance and he was giving her that. In her bedroom at the beginning, Sarah has a ballerina figurine that looks exactly like Sarah does in this ballroom scene, and so parts of the Labyrinth – Sir Didymus' Ambrosius is her dog Merlin, she becomes in this scene that same figurine she has in her bedroom, she has an Escher wall poster in her bedroom, she has a grass maze, she has stuffed animals of the Fire Gang, she has a Hoggle puppet, she physically takes the same lipstick she applies in the beginning into the Labyrinth to guide her way... all these pieces of the Labyrinth which she encounters already exist in her bedroom, adding further evidence to my theory that the Labyrinth and, by extension, Jareth, are all figments of Sarah's imagination, with some added fuckery in that Jareth is the one who gave her the Labyrinth book, which is the source of the powers he gave her.

When they dance, Sarah falls into the illusion, she falls into the romance, but then like in Cinderella and as aforementioned in previous statements, the clock chimes and this shatters the spell, it breaks the dream, and Sarah frees herself. Jareth is visibly distressed, he looks so heartbroken and shattered because he knows no matter what he does, what role he performs for her or how good he does it, no matter what, Sarah is always going to reject him even though she is the one who assigned these roles to Jareth. He is under her spell, powerless to resist against his own powers – powers he gave her! How do you fight yourself? How can he convince Sarah when he only exists within her own mind and worse still, he knows this? He is doomed by his own narrative and it breaks his heart to follow it, but he has no choice. So he exhausts himself, as he states at the end, trying to live up to all the roles Sarah gives him, knowing the entire time that it's futile and he's not going to triumph.

That's not what Sarah wants – she wants a villain, he gave her one. She wanted an escape from a constantly crying baby – he gave her that. She wanted romance, mystery, intrigue, adventure, a good dose of 'safe' fear, friendship, companionship, he gave her all of that. But Sarah cannot give him the one thing Jareth wants – acceptance. Because he exists within her, and being a teenager is too tumultuous a time for Sarah to be able to accept herself, to accept that she needs to grow up and fight to be a better person, and she's not quite ready for that yet. Jareth knows Sarah will fight her way to his heart (the centre of the Labyrinth) and then destroy it – the Escher room dismantles when she jumps, effectively choosing her brother over Jareth. His love for Sarah destroys him, but aids Sarah in becoming someone more mature, wiser, and kinder. When Sarah breaks away from him in this scene and literally shatters the dream he gave her, is when Jareth starts to realise that he's been doomed from the start. Sarah wants pretense, she wants an escape. When Jareth shows her the reality of who he is (or, in the metaphor, the reality of reality), she rejects him, she rejects what it means to be an adult, and thereby chooses to be a child for a little longer. One who is more responsible, sure, but still. Jareth understands this, he knows why it happens the way it does, and though he pleads, the look on his face when he throws the crystal up in the air is ultimately,

“We could have had so much fun together”.

Additionally, there is a deleted scene where Sarah rejects him, but then he smiles right before he throws the crystal into the air. It's a proud smile, which lends support to my theory that he is using the journey through his Labyrinth to teach Sarah, to help her to be a better sister and daughter. She rejects him, and he's heartbroken by it, but he's proud of her too, though he knows he's doomed to just wither away within her. He's a complicated being, so full of grey areas, he's spoilt and ironically as childish as Sarah is, but that's why he's able to fulfil all those roles so well, and apply a mirror between her and the world she explores – self-reflection is, after all, taking a look at oneself, and Jareth has spent so much time with Sarah Aboveground while she rehearses her favourite scenes in Labyrinth that he's come to understand her, though he doesn't agree with everything; and that's why he put this journey into motion.

Another thing I find interesting is how, at the gates of the castle (at the gate of the core of Jareth's heart), is a very menacing scary metal contraption designed to invoke fear and keep people away from getting through the gates. And yet, Hoggle is able to intervene and prevent the attack, and once they're all through the gates, the goblin army don't seem to take it very seriously at all. I have no doubt that, if they needed to, goblins could and would cause serious harm, and yet really they just annihilate themselves and make it very easy for Sarah and her friends to make their way into the castle. This suggests that it's all what's on the surface – they don't treat Sarah like a threat because she isn't one – by this point, Jareth has accepted his own ultimate role is to lose in a love he was written to feel, and he wants her to succeed in running his Labyrinth, he wants her to triumph and become better and learn from him. He wants her to get her brother back, because her brother isn't the point of it all – Jareth only took Toby because Sarah asked him to. The point of it all is for Sarah to grow, to learn how to grow up, to learn to be stronger and kinder and wiser so she can grow up, and that is why Jareth makes it quite easy for her to get through the city into the castle. He only watches from the window, he does nothing to help his goblins or to help Sarah. He just watches from his window, looking down at life happening but doing nothing to stop it.

Once Sarah gets to the castle, it's quiet, still. No more resistance from Jareth, just a final plea to delay the inevitable. “I have to face him alone, that's the way it is done” - here, he is once again a villain, staged for the final confrontation, and Sarah has painted herself as the heroine. Likely because she has little to no control in her real life over anything, so in her head she writes herself to be heroic on adventures, saving other people in a way she wishes she could be saved. In Within You, “your eyes can be so cruel, just as I can be so cruel” - again, he's showing the parallel within them, his first declaration of them as equals, because writers always put a piece of themselves in the stories they write, and Sarah, as Jareth's writer, is no different.

Jareth is so tired in the final scene, all of his masks and roles are discarded, though Sarah still recites from the Labyrinth. Before, Sarah backed away from Jareth, but now he is backing away from her, though he pleads with her to accept him (her dreams, her fiction). The power is now hers, and she knows it. He knows it. The crystal ball turns into a bubble, which breaks at Sarah's touch. Jareth's world shatters, he returns to existing only within her, and Sarah takes away all of the wisdom and lessons and experiences he gave her. I find it interesting how “I need you, all of you” should include Jareth too, but he sits on the outside looking in once again, forced only to watch, and no longer able to participate in her world. The boundaries have changed, Sarah admits she still needs her childhood fantasies and stories to help her with real life, but the narrative she wrote for Jareth is set in stone.

When Sarah's world fell down, Jareth caught her (the comfort of fiction) but when his world implodes, no one is there to break his fall.

Don't tell me truth hurts, little girl, because it hurts like hell...

[rainbowberriesandcookies]

"Orihime being afraid of Ichigo's hollow power shows she doesn't fully accept him."

I see this take and similar ones pop up from anti fans of Ichigo and Orihime and try to say that Orihime is bad, in the wrong, etc. for being afraid of his hollowfication powers when her first encounter with a hollow was her brother Sora.

I know the anime did a lot of damage to Orihime's character - especially by taking these scenes out and altering them compared to the manga - but when Ichigo begins to undergo the same process as Sora, it only makes sense that she's afraid.

Not because she's afraid of Ichigo but because what he can become.

And just like Sora said, "It would be [her] fault"

Also - this is to counter the whole "Ichigo and Orihime were never close/barely friends/just acquaintances" that I see floating around often too.

But all in all - Orihime was never afraid of Ichigo. She was afraid of what he could have become.

As Acidwire, Sora targeted Orihime because of her growing bonds with Tatsuki and Ichigo. He even says that he attacked them because they tried to tear him and Orihime apart and that she already knew why.

For clarity - what I'm about to say isn't me saying that Sora was abusive in life and I'm going to specifically try to use his name as a hollow "Acidwire" as much as possible to express the slight separation between Sora as he was while he was alive and Sora as he was when he became Acidwire.

Especially since early on, it established that hollows - while they were once former humans - often end up being twisted versions of the people they once were.

Now onto the point -

The "You already know why" isn't dissimilar from how abusers, manipulators, etc. often talk to their victims when they're angry or upset. It's similar to the silent treatment in a way where it implies that the victim intentionally made the abuser upset.

He references her prayers for him every day helped ease his own suffering before she became friends with Tatsuki and entered high school before she stopped praying for him altogether. He then says how it hurt him that when she got home, all she would talk about was Ichigo.

For one - the fact that Acidwire knows this proves that Ichigo and Orihime were at least already friends by the time the manga started. In contrast to the anime where Ichigo outright says to Rukia that they've "never had a real conversation"

Anyways - this here in and of itself proves Ichigo and Orihime at least knew each other beyond just acquaintances - because they were close enough for Acidwire to notice and be hurt by it.

She tries to defend herself but he cuts her off before attacking Ichigo again

Acidwire tells her to come with him back to when it was just the two of them. In the context of the story, this would basically be him killing her.

However, this is also a tactic abusers use known as isolation.

When she questions why she should go with him and why he'd hurt Ichigo and Tatsuki before saying that the brother she loved would have never done anything like this.

I feel like in the anime, it kinda breezed by these moments which are honestly heartbreaking in hindsight and key for the leadup to why Orihime was afraid when Ichigo would use his hollow mask.

but Acidwire's response to her refusal and saying that the brother she loved would never do this is to not just harm her, but blame her and say that he is going to kill her.

In the time that she's become friends with Ichigo and Tatsuki and slowly grew happier, Acidwire blamed her for his own despair and sadness.

The kind, loving older brother that she had always known became a monster that would kill her and everyone close to her, and it would be her fault that he did because she stopped praying for him.

Here, it shows how Acidwire views Orihime not as a person who should live her own fulfilling life, but as an object who should live for him because he gave up his entire life to raise and protect her.

Once again, not to say that Sora was an abuser or abusive person, but this line of logic is the same one that abusive and toxic parents often use when it comes to emotionally abusing their children. Saying how the sacrificed so much for their children to control how their children live their own lives when the child never asked to be born. Similarly, Orihime didn't ask to be born or ask for Sora to raise her.

Sora did because that's the kind of person that he is, but Acidwire turns these loving traits of Sora's into a manifestation of abuse.

And even though she has nothing to be sorry for... She apologizes to Acidwire because that's the kind of person she is.

It also shows how she puts on a smile so that way others don't have to worry about her. She didn't want Sora to think that she was sad and hurting, she didn't want him to worry about her so she buried and hid her own sadness.

She apologizes to Acidwire for making him sad and (in what she thinks are probably her last moments) says that she loves him and that she didn't mean to hurt him.

As he's slowly regaining himself, Sora admits that he already knew that Orihime was just trying to shield her sadness from him but still wanted her to pray for him because it was only in those moments that her heart was his.

Ichigo then tells him that it's the same, those who die and those who survive are just as sad as the other.

It's in this moment Sora had fully regained himself, enough to know that he couldn't stay in a form like this or else he'd come to hurt Orihime again. If he killed the little sister that he raised like a daughter over his own heartache, would he have been any better than their own abusive parents?

And finally, the two get to say goodbye properly.

Also - a side note - a lot of people criticize Orihime's passive nature and how she never seems to fight or argue with anyone but it's because the one time that she did have a fight with someone, they died and became a monster.

This entire sequence emphasizes why Orihime always tries to reach out to others in need and never argues or fights. She doesn't want her friends or even strangers, to become like how Sora became Acidwire.

Now, Rukia had changed/erased Orihime's memories following this event but it likely didn't work as intended since during the Rukia rescue arc, Orihime mentions that she's been able to see hollows and spirits ever since the encounter with Acidwire.

Now let's go ahead and jump ahead to VL Ichigo -

Going to Hueco Mundo - Ichigo already knew without having to be told or convinced by anyone that Orihime was in danger. Aizen did his best to make it look like Orihime was a traitor to the Soul Society and Ichigo never bought it

It's being put in plainer and plainer terms that Ichigo transformed as a response to Orihime's call for help.

Even if you want to argue that there was a mistranslation or that Ichigo doesn't directly reference Orihime, even if you remove all of the text the sequence of events goes

Orihime's cries

Ichigo began to move and get up - functionally coming back from being dead

Once again, even if you want to remove the text avoid arguing about whether or not it was properly translated - nevermind the fact that in Japanese pronouns are often omitted and there is a big assumption to just know who/what you are talking about -

Even without text, the images show Orihime crying, and Ichigo beginning to come back to life.

Both she and Ulquiorra question whether that is Ichigo

Now that said, I think that Ichigo vs Ulquiorra is one of the most brutal and best fights in the series. Both Uryu and Orihime know that this isn't Ichigo.

Yet remember how it is established that hollows often become twisted versions of the people they once were? This is a power that Ichigo can't control and yet uses it to protect the person who called out to him.

While I don't disagree with the notion that this is also White protecting Ichigo, it doesn't change the fact that Kubo intentionally drew Orihime and Ichigo rising side by side multiple times. Even without text, Kubo places emphasis on her and her cries for help against VL Ichigo - not White or Zangetsu.

And when Uryu tries to bring him back to his senses what does Ichigo do? Put a sword through him.

Once again, even if you want to remove any and all text, Kubo puts VL Ichigo paneled side by side with Orihime, and when Ichigo comes back to his senses

The first person that he sees is Orihime.

As much as I want, I'll save my yapping about Ulquiorra for a separate time.

But for a moment, even if only briefly, his desires to protect were twisted in a way that hurt those around him, and once again - Orihime was the catalyst.

Ichigo says that he didn't want to win like this - showing that he views fights as something more honorable than what White/VL Ichigo had done. His last memory being that he had a hole put in his chest, also shows that he more or less "blacked out" and had no control over his actions.

What is one of the things established when people become hollows?

That they lose control of themselves and their desires are twisted.

The difference between Ichigo and Acidwire is that Ichigo wants to protect Orihime while Acidwire wanted to own her - which is why Ichigo never directly harms Orihime even as he loses control of himself.

But - all of this yapping is to show how from Orihime's perspective, hollowfication and hollow powers aren't good. They turn people into monsters that hurt their friends and loved ones.

It's also established that Orihime is the type of person who will internalize her own thoughts and feelings (it isn't ""hubris"" as some people call it).

Whether or not you want to argue that it was an assumption that Ichigo became a VL because she cried for help, it doesn't change the fact that she still cried for help and that Ichigo became a hollow/VL.

From her own perspective, she blames herself regardless of whether or not you think that it is an assumption on her part that Ichigo became a VL to protect her.

And after all - why wouldn't she blame herself when her first encounter with a hollow - Acidwire - blamed her for the monster that he became?

I know I skipped over him using his mask in the fight with Grimmjow, but I already yap too much and wanted to try to keep an already long post short(er).

Anyway - all of this illustrates the trauma that Orihime has regarding hollows and hollowfication. It's not truly her fault - yet in both instances she blames herself.

And not just Kubo, but Ichigo himself is fully aware of this.

Which is why when he tells her not to worry and that he's still himself is so important - because it shows that Ichigo has learned to control that side of himself while at the same time, being aware that Orihime is someone who has been traumatized by hollows and hollowfication.

Ultimately - she doesn't want Ichigo to become a monster like Sora. For Ichigo, it's growth in his own ability while for Orihime it's comfort in knowing that Ichigo won't lose himself fighting to protect those he cares about.

In short, she isn't afraid of Ichigo - she was scared of him becoming a monster like Sora had.

[necrotic-nephilim]

this is not a ship post, but something that frustrates me a lot in fanon concerning Jason Todd that attempts to soften Jason's return to Gotham for the sake of found family domesticity or easy hurt/comfort or just sliding him into the Batfam sooner, is they all seem to fundamentally misunderstand Jason.

because there seem to be a lot of fandom popular concepts of Jason coming home much sooner and just not having his whole Under The Red Hood arc. which in theory is fine and i can see the want to simplify canon to make room for your lighthearted more fluff-leaning concepts. but in everyone without fail, the way they address the clown-shaped elephant in the room is by having some throwaway line that "oh Jason quietly kills the Joker and moves on".

when the Joker being dead or alive is not the *point*. if by some chance accident, the Joker had died prior to Jason's return, whether by ridiculous freak accident, getting whacked by a fellow villain, hell even someone actually doing so to avenge Jason, it *would not* satiate Jason's anger. because Jason's end goal in UtRH is not to simply kill the Joker: it is to make *Bruce* kill the Joker. Jason's anger is directed to the idea that to Jason, if Bruce truly loved Jason, he would've killed the Joker. that is love, for Jason. compromising your personal values for love and not letting someone go unavenged. when Jason was Robin, almost every angry or misguided thing he did was born of love. he wanted to kill/hurt Two-Face because he believed Dent killed his father. he was so angry at Felipe because an innocent woman was dead due to that man's actions. he wanted to save his mother in a situation he knew he shouldn't be in because he loved her. his anger, his violence, it is driven by love and feelings of righting wrongs. that is how he thinks wrongs *should* be righted. that is how you avenge and *love* someone.

because so long as Jason's return to Gotham doesn't end in Bruce killing the Joker (which, it never will bc Bruce is Bruce), Jason will never forgive Bruce. you cannot wave away the layers of hurt and complicated trauma by killing Joker offscreen. because Jason will still be angry that Bruce didn't avenge him. in his eyes, that means Bruce did not love him enough. he was not truly loved by Bruce the way he loved Bruce. bc Bruce was Jason's whole *world*. prior to being taken in, Dick and Tim, they had support systems. they had loved ones. they knew what stability and healthy family love looked like. Jason *didn't*. and that's not to say that Catherine Todd did not love him with her whole heart and thus he loved her, but it certainly wasn't a stable and safe support system for Jason to grow up in. Bruce was Jason's first real sense of a stable, healthy life. and so of course Jason poured everything into Bruce and loved Bruce so devoutly. Bruce was his world. like he says, if it had been Bruce, Jason would've stopped at nothing.

so his betrayal is rooted in that he was not avenged, not that Joker is alive. so long as the Joker does not die by Bruce's hands, it will never be enough for Jason. (in this era, at least.) notably, this is also why i don't think it would change a thing if Jason knew the whole "oh Bruce wanted to kill the Joker but Superman stopped him" tidbit that fanon has really latched onto as a way to pacify Jason's anger toward Bruce. Jason knowing that wouldn't change a thing, in my opinion. because Jason knows Bruce. and a tenant of Bruce's character is that he grapples with murder *every day*. the whole point is how *easy* it would be for him. he is a human weapon, trained by killers, trained to be deadly. he is the greatest strategist to exist. he knows he could kill someone and get away with it. *no* trace, no proof, nothing. and he knows he *wants* to. wants to kill the Joker, Joe Chill, anyone who's hurt him that viscerally.

but he *doesn't*. that's the point. Bruce wakes up every day with that question on his mind, and every day the answer is the same. Bruce's morality is not a decision he made in an alleyway when his parents died, it's a decision he continues to make every day and he *must* continue to make in order to remain who he is. Jason is quite familiar with the fact that Bruce grapples with this daily. i do not think it surprised nor fazed Jason to know that Bruce did *consider* killing the Joker. that he wanted to. maybe even planned to. but a consideration, a want, a plan, is just a thought. it's nothing substantial, and substance is everything to Jason. at the end of the day, Bruce didn't. he was talked down by *Clark* of all people with an excuse of diplomatic immunity, as if Jason and Bruce don't both know that Bruce could've *easily* found a way to make it look like an accident or some other loophole. because he's Batman. there's always a loophole. he always finds a way when he actually intends to. but he never actually intended to kill the Joker. so he didn't. and Jason would know that there was never an intent. it's an interesting piece of fodder to add to the nuance of Jason and Bruce, but honestly, i think it'd make Jason angrier to have that excuse thrown in his face. as if Bruce hasn't beaten Clark half a dozen times by now. it's a flimsy nonsense excuse that Jason would rip to shreds.

so while yes, i understand the wish for easy lighthearted fanfic that doesn't have to deal with the nuances of canon, i think that Jason's character will always be so deeply robbed and altered if you try to fix his thirst for vengeance with an off-page killing of Joker at Jason's hands. it was never the point. the point was that -in his own eyes- he wasn't loved enough for Bruce to make an acception. he realized that not even his *death* would come before Bruce's Mission. Jason truly believed that Bruce loved him and held him as the most important thing in the world, and now he has proof that Bruce didn't. because the Mission mattered more.

i'm not saying i have a solution to this conundrum if you're attempting to solve it for fanfic/fanon, nor am i even saying it's a bad thing it exists. i just think it becoming overwhelmingly common has led to misunderstandings surrounding Jason's motivations and feelings about this arc and it's an unsatisfying solution that only seeks to pacify Jason's rage and his trauma responses for the sake of found family-ification.

[veinsfullofstars]

“Quit laughin’, ya bastard, I’m dyin’ over here! Get me some starsdamn milk, for cryin’ out loud!”

(ID: Kirby series fanart comic of Dark Meta Knight and Daroach, in which lunch is interrupted by a disagreement on spicy food and some improper use of the Sharing mechanic. Transcript below the cut. END ID.)

Based on a personal headcanon that DMK enjoys spicy food and Daroach vehemently does not.

Started 04/06/24, finished and updated 04/09/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24.

---

Transcript:

Panel 1

*DMK and DR sitting side-by-side enjoying some lunch together - a sandwich for the thief, a plate of spicy curry for the knight. DMK (his mask pushed up to the side of his head, bits of curry stuck to his face) idly eats his meal with a fork as DR picks up and scrutinizes a small bottle of hot sauce the knight had set aside, a brow raised in disappointment.*

DR: “Ultra spicy,” huh? Blech. How can you stand this stuff, Dark? Like, can you even taste anythin’ anymore? (Besides pain?)

Panel 2

DMK: Aw, c’mon, it’s not that bad. Here, want a bite~?

*setting his fork upright in the curry, DMK pushes his plate aside and turns towards DR with the most mischievous expression, reaching up to grab the collar of his cape. DR turns his head sharply, dropping the bottle and the sandwich, as the knight starts tugging him towards him.*

DR: What’re you-? Hey! No! No! Don’t you friggin’ dare, Dark, I swear to Nova-

Panel 3

*DMK stands up and yanks DR down towards his face, a hand clasped on the back of the thief’s head to hold him there. DR flinches (VFX: two large exclamation points), knocked off his feet and holding his paws out in surprise. A wisp of steam rises from between them, curling into a little pink heart at the top. Text reading “*Face-to-Face SFX*” hovers behind DMK.*

Panel 4

*DR jerks away from DMK, red-faced and doubled over in pain, his eyes squeezed shut and his tongue hanging out with a fresh red burn on the end, steam emitting from his face in puffs. He frantically fans at his mouth with one paw while shoving DMK away with the other.*

DR: (breaking the dialogue bubble in places) AAGH!! Ow! Star-burnin’ son-of-the-void what is wrong with you piece a’- aaaughh dammit stars dammit ow ow ow ow!!

*DMK cackles, leaning away with one arm held up against the rat’s pushing paw, one eye shut and mouth stretched open in a wide smile, a single incisor prominent within and a touch of blush at the corner. Text reading “HA HA HA HA HA HA HA” hovers behind him surrounded by laugh lines.*

[dolphelecat]

I Will Follow - Chris Tomlin

Wonderhole Edition

[acapelladitty]

When The Lights Go Out: Riddler

Summary: Richard Madison is a crook but a strange encounter with a man calling himself Edward Nygma may prove to be his undoing.

Part 1: When The Lights Go Out: Scarecrow

AO3 Link ☆ Fic Masterlist

The miraculous release of Walter Johnstone from his asylum incarceration was not the only odd thing to have occurred in Gotham that day. Nor would it be the last.

It was certainly a day that Richard Madison was never likely to forget.

If you asked the average person to describe Richard Madison they would have a host of phrases ready to spring forth in his praise. As sweet as sugar, one might claim. Honest as they come, another would cry. A good man with a good heart. However, there were those who saw another side to the man and those individuals would quietly lament his misdeeds and misgivings.

Both opinions are entirely valid to their holders, as all opinions are, however those who believed in him were only witness to the facade which he presented to the world.

To put it simply, Richard Madison was a crook.

Oh, how people loved being around Richard. They whispered promises in his ears, slipped offerings into his pockets, and overall doted on him in exchange for the opportunity to engage. To have their needs met.

And he was never a man to deny the people their needs.

When it suited him.

Emerging from the elevator to his private office, his shoulder clicked as he stretched his arms before him to prepare for the next few hours of sitting at his computer and running his small empire from the comfort of his favourite chair.

However, an unexpected sight stopped him dead in his tracks.

Standing in his office as though he belonged there, lounged a suited man. His body was on the thinner side and even from this distance Richard could tell that the bottle green suit, expertly styled as it cinched his frame, was cut from expensive cloth. Boyish features shone from a face which could not have been a day over forty and his appearance was made all the more striking by the shock of flame red hair which sat atop his head, mostly covered by a lurid green bowler hat which perfectly matched the shade of his suit.

“Richard Madison!” The man exclaimed in a showman voice, his excitement radiating from him in waves. “In the flesh! The man of the hour!”

Reaching out as he approached Richard’s stunned position, he gripped his hand in a firm grasp before shaking with an almost comedic level of effort. His arm swinging up and down in the grasp of the madman, Richard politely let go before hiding his hand within his pocket to prevent any further touching.

“Who are you?” Richard asked. This was his private office and absolutely no one got in here without first jumping through a series of hoops designed to keep out any 'undesirables'. “And what the hell are you doing here?” He allowed his shock to manifest as anger as he roared at the red-haired man.

“Lovely office,” throwing an arm out with great flourish, the man ignored the open aggression to gesture wildly around the room, “you must tell me who your decorator is.”

The stark minimalism of his office stared back at him as Richard's eyes swept the room. His room was boring, intentionally designed as such, so was he joking?

“Look, buddy, I don't thin-” cutting himself off, Richard clenched and unclenched his fist as he repeated his earlier question. “Who are hell are you?!”

“My name is Edward Nygma.” Flashing a smile, Edward dropped his head in a dramatic nod and allowed the green bowler hat to topple from his scalp and into his waiting hands before tucking it below his arm. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Madison. May I call you Richard?”

Now exposed, his red hair was perfectly coiffed into an old-fashioned style which felt very out of place in the modern office.

“I suppose.”

“What about Dick?”

Pursing his lips as his eyes narrowed, Richard was unable to tell if this man was mocking him or his earnest manner was genuine.

“I usually insist on Richard.”

“Then feel free to call me Edward.” Edward answered. “And to answer your earlier question, I am here to make you an offer which I know you will be unable to resist. We are both men of knowledge and money, so I know that you will want to hear what I have to say.”

“I’m not a trader.” Richard spat back, the surreal nature of this meeting making his aggression feel more performative that anything. “If you want me to invest in some shit you’re cooking up then go to Wall Street and pitch to the sons of bitches there.”

“Oh, I met the fools at Wall Street. Quite a long time ago.” Smirking as lips curled into a smile, Edward flashed his white teeth. “I gave them all the clues and all the opportunities to be honest men and they chose to ignore me. And then? Can you believe it? BANG!”

At this, Richard jumped in place as Edward smacked his hand against his thigh with some force.

“It all came crashing down. The Wall Street Crash, they called it. More than a few brains came to decorate the nearby paving after that, but they can't say they hadn't been warned. I gave them every chance.”

He's definitely mad, Richard thought. Edward did not look a day over forty and yet he had the gall to claim that he was present for the Wall Street collapse in the 30's?

“Talking like that will get you locked up in Arkham.” Richard warned.

“Oh no,” Edward exclaimed, “oh no, no, no! That would never do! I am far too intelligent for that and besides,” leaning in close as though divulging some information that only he was privy to, the green of Edward’s eyes twinkled madly for a moment, “an old friend has already made himself comfortable in those harrowed halls. It would be rude for me intrude on his delicate work.”

“You have connections in Arkham?” Such things were not unheard of and Richard himself had at least one guard on his payroll to ensure that the odd piece of information here and there fell into his hands. “Staff or guests?” He added.

“Staff today could be guests tomorrow and vice-versa. Let's not judge people based on their current position, particularly when that position is fragile at best. Fantastic things are afoot in Gotham right beneath your nose,” Edward insisted, “and my associates and I are here to see what she has to offer. So much filth and rot and chaos all wrapped in a pretty package of gothic architecture and urban landscaping.”

“Associates?”

“Oh, don't you worry, Richard. You are very unlikely to ever meet them as we tend to stick to our roles somewhat rigidly.”

“I need to make a phone call.” Richard interjected quickly. “Excuse me.”

Quickly retreating back to the doors of the elevator, Richard snatched his mobile from his suit pocket and quickly hit one of the numbers on his speed dial. This man, Edward, seemed to have decent connections and money to his name but he wanted to be sure before moving any further.

To his luck, his secretary picked up after only two rings.

“Hello, Richard Madison’s office. How may I direct your call?” Came a feminine droll from the other end of the line.

“Hey, Sam.” Relieved to hear a familiar voice, Richard continued. “Need you to run a quick background check for me.”

“Sure, boss.”

“Claims his name is 'Edward Nygma'. Never heard of him before but he looks like he has some decent coin behind him.”

“Okay. And where is he currently?”

“Standing inside my office.”

An audible hitch of breath.

“Okay, boss.”

Immediately on to business, Richard could hear the frantic tapping of her keyboard as she sought out the information he needed.

“The name is coming up here, boss.” As though reading from a script, Sam listed off her findings. “Edward Nygma. Business owner and entrepreneur. Apparently considered rather handsome. Worth…”

A pause.

“What?” Richard asked.

“Billions. Christ, he could put Wayne outta business. He’s absolutely loaded.”

“Billions! How have we not heard his name before?”

“He's a noted recluse. Very little personal details available here. All I can see is that his net worth is mind-blowing but the only thing he has name officially to is a production line of different types of toys.”

“Child toys?”

“Puzzle toys. For all ages and ranges.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s not a lot to go on but it’s definitely there. Good source too. He's legit.”

Hanging up with a shaking finger, Richard could smell opportunity like a shark could blood. A noted recluse worth billions, right here in his office. He could take advantage of this in a way which he and all others had been unable to do so with Bruce Wayne; a man so wrapped up in his holier-than-thou attitude that he refused to engage in any business which would dirty his hands.

Richard hated him.

Taking a deep breath, he dropped his phone back into his pocket and started to move back towards Edward. He had not moved an inch since Richard had disappeared, but his attention was wholly focused on something which was clutched between his hands. As he approached, the flash of the brightly-coloured item in Edward's palm also drew Richard's attention and he squinted as though a sharp light had accosted him.

“What's in your hands?”

Rolling the offending object between his fingers with a practised ease, Edward brought it into the space between them.

“This?” He asked. “A curious little thing. I am very fond of puzzles and I haven't seen anything quite like this before.”

Recognising the piece, Richard squinted once again.

“A rubix's cube?” He asked, incredulous.

Who is their right mind had never seen a Rubix cube before?

“Rubix cube.” Edward repeated with a look of contemplation. “After the man who created it?”

“I guess.” Confused as to what exact relevance the puzzle held to the current discussion, Richard gestured vaguely with his hands. “I don't know what this has to do with-”

“Oh, of course! Of course!” Exclaiming loudly, Edward slapped a hand good-naturedly on his knee as he smiled. “Excuse my ramblings but you must forgive an old man his pleasures.”

“Would you like a drink?”

“Watered down whisky doesn’t agree with me, Dick,” Edward declined. “And I would think a man like yourself would want to watch his health. The liver can be a tricky old thing, especially six years down the line.”

“So, what can I do for you, Mr. Nygma? I doubt this is a social call since we don’t, uh, know each other.”

“I have an opportunity which you would be a damned fool to pass up on. A new line of puzzle and magic toys, fabricated and distributed across Gotham and her sister cities.”

With Edward waving his hand around, Richard was able to catch a glimpse of his watch and found himself momentarily stunned by the beautiful timepiece and the various gemstones which were embedded within.

“Toys? Just toys? Surely we cou-”

“I have meetings today with others, including a meeting with a very interesting man named Wayne who seems to have taken a liking to my products,” Edward grinned.

Richard’s chest clenched with anger at the familiar name and he immediately backpeddled on his scepticism, “That won’t be necessary. I would love to enter into a business deal with you, Mr. Nygma. I hear you have quite the reputation.”

“I’m certain I do,” Edward replied, “and I would like to bring you onboard before I return to my other duties. $10 million would suffice as a minor investment, one which would see major returns.”

Wincing at the amount but desperate to keep the vaguely gullible and eccentric billionaire within his grasp, greed already blinding his thoughts as he imagines various ways of involving the fool with his less pleasant ventures, Richard nodded at the proposed amount.

The conversation flowed smoothly after that, discussions of timescales and proposed returns forcing Richard into the belief that he was making a smart choice. His mind focused despite the whirling nature of Edward’s demeanour; Richard felt the thrill of his greed thrumming in his veins as he catered to his latest potential cash cow.

“So, do we have a deal, Dick?”

Extending his hand with a showman smile, Edward allowed it to hang in the air between them with a sense of finality.

Willing to ignore the nickname this one time, Richard nodded once more and accepted the handshake before dropping his hand to his inner pocket. Mobile phone in hand, it took Richard less than five minutes to have the investment money wired over to Edward’s accounts – ensuring that he retained a firm copy of all Edward’s account details should anything go awry with their deal.

“This account is one of my more selective accounts and I would appreciate its use being kept on the quieter side of things. I am sure you understand,” Richard muttered with a put-on smile.

“Of course, of course! My lips are sealed.” Edward winked, placing his bowler hat atop his head with a dramatic flourish. “A silent account for a silent partner.”

His smirk actually blossoming into a genuine smile, Richard took the initiative to end their meeting.

“A pleasure, Mr Nygma. I hope to work with you again.”

Tilting his head with a wicked smirk of his own, Edward answered in kind.

“I’m sure you’ll think of our partnership often.”

x-x-x-x-x

Stepping into the familiar office of Salvatore Maroni, Richard inclined his head to the goons who remained on guard as he joined both the owner of the office and their mutual friend, Daniel Mockingbird, by taking a seat on the only available chair.

“Evening, boys. Pour me a decent one, eh, Sal?” Richard asked, inclining his empty whisky glass to Maroni. A glass which was quickly filled with amber liquid as the man in question poured him a healthy slosh of scotch.

“You’re chipy as fuck today, Richard. Balls finally drop?” Mockingbird cut in, his thick Italian accent glossing over the words with ease.

“Funny,” Richard deadpanned as he sank a gulp of the scotch, “but anyway, how has your week been gentlemen?”

“Great, I got me a new business partner and I think he’s going to be one for the books, boys,” sipping from his own glass, Maroni appeared pleased with himself as he divulged his luck to the other two.

Surprised, given his own unmade announcement, Richard inclined his hand to Maroni as he indicated for him to continue.

“Yeah, some fucking freak. Came here to ask me to partner on an investment deal for some shitty kids toys and-”

“Bullshit!” Mockingbird called out, surprising both men at the outburst. “You met with Nygma too?”

Open shock playing on his face as he watched the two speak, Richard dropped his hands to his lap as his head darted between the two like a tennis match.

“Yeah. Showed up here asking for $10 million.” Maroni confirmed.

“Fuck! Same from me.”

“Same, huh? For the toy business?”

“Yeah, for the fucking toy business. He didn’t say nothing about having other partners.” Running a hand through his slickened hair, Mockingbird was clearly unimpressed with the fact that his great deal had not been as exclusive as he thought. “Jesus Christ man, $20 million from us both. Sneaky fuc-”

“$30 million,” Richard intercut with a frown. “I also received a visitor yesterday.”

Genuinely speechless, all three men grumbled their discontent into their glasses as they observed the others with open suspicion. Their friendship was tenuous, agreements always being settled under the table to ensure that the dirt they could hold over each other was limited, and an event like this would only breed discontent.

Unable to muse for too long as his phone started vibrating madly in his pocket, Richard pulled it free with a gruff greeting as he pressed it against his ear.

“Mr. Madison, we have a problem.”

Sam. Sounding thoroughly distraught as her voice stuttered across the words.

“What is it?” Richard asked, a sinking feeling dropping his chest into his stomach.

“It’s gone, Sir. Everything. All the money from the secret account.”

His heart stuttering at the information, Richard barely noticed when both Maroni and Mockingbird picked up their own ringing mobiles.

“What the fuck do you mean it’s gone?”

“The account is empty, Sir. The $10 million transferred through to the Nygma account but the rest has disappeared. It’s gone, Sir.”

“No, no-NO!” Richard snapped, snarling his words down the phone. “You find me that money, Sam. Find it and get it back. Hunt down that fuck Nygma if you need to because I think he has something to do with it.”

Slamming his phone shut, his heart pounding in his ears as his blood pressure reached new levels, Richard zoned back into his companions to find that all hell had broken loose across both men. Maroni’s face was a stunning shade of puce as he screamed insults into his mobile while Mockingbird was speaking in Italian at record speed, his expression equally as angry.

Allowing both men the time to finish their phone calls as they went through a similar disbelieving anger to himself, Richard understood without a doubt that they had all been swindled in a similar fashion.

“What the fuck is happening?” Mockingbird hissed, throwing his glass to the floor as the scotch splashed across the carpet. “One of my private accounts has been tanked! Gutted! Fucking robbed!”

Maroni pulled his lips back into a snarl, “Same here! Fuck! The account I used yesterday. That sneaky fuck Nygma is behind this and I’m going to find him, boys.”

“Pull our resources! I’m going to kill that red-haired fuck.” Richard added with a roar.

“Red hair?” Mockingbird face was confused despite the rage, “You mean black hair? Short little fucker too, only about 5ft? Weasley as fuck.”

“What?” Squinting, Richard shook his head. “No. He was wiry with red hair, probably about my height and thin as an addicts piss. Sal?”

His voice so low that both men struggled to pick up on his exact words, Maroni growled his own description.

“Brown hair. Slicked back. Slight build on him. Had a stupid cane with him. I even got the bastard on record.”

Snatching out a voice recorder from a nearby desk drawer, Maroni fiddled with it before clicking play on the recorder as all three men stared at it with narrowed eyes.

“-an excellent choice, Mr Maroni! I admire your taste in being able to pick up on a good deal when it comes your way. So, let’s get down to business and I can be on my way. Shall we say around $10 million as an investment? With that I cou-”

His heart racing at the familiar voice, Richard saw a similar look of rage on Mockingbirds’ face as he listened to the recording.

“That’s him!” Mockingbird grunted, his fists clenched against his lap. “That’s the smart-mouthed cunt.”

“How the fuck can that be the same man we all met?” Richard asked reasonably, rage giving way to confusion. “Sure, he could wear a wig or change his clothes, but his height? He wasn’t a fucking magician. This shouldn’t be a fucking riddle. How much did he take from you?”

Directing the question to both men, the grave looks he received in response no doubt mirrored his own. If their loss was as great as his own then they were looking at an easy collective loss of over a hundred million. A hundred million dollars, gone in a puff of smoke.

All dirty.

All untraceable.

As it was designed to be.

It was a perfect theft.

“Play the bastards voice again, Sal.” Mockingbird hissed. “I want it committed to memory so I can remember to have his tongue ripped out when we catch the prick.”

Thick fingers pressing the play button of the audio recorder, Maroni startled in place as the casual conversation which had previously been loaded on the device was replaced by a loud, cackling laughter – the rising cacophony of Edward’s mirth making all three men shiver in place as something dark curled around the joyful sound and rattled them to their cores.

Richard Madison was a crook, but he was no fool, and, as Mockingbird fixed himself with the sign of the cross, Richard could not shake the furious anxiety which seared in his chest as he realised that something evil had held counsel with him in his office yesterday and that his money was gone somewhere he did not dare to follow.

[asilentguardian]

I've got like three wips rn that I really want to finish but while I bang my head against those walls here's a little fic. I was going through my old wips and this is something from 2021 that I finished and apparently never posted, and I think it's decent enough to share. enjoy the hurt/comfort :D

-------

It’s weeks before he starts noticing it.

It’s only after they start whatever they’ve started that Bruce’s walls start coming down, that Hal allows himself to watch Bruce unabashedly.

It’s subtle, at first. Sudden hitches in his step that Bruce recovers from almost flawlessly. When Bruce sits down, the crease between his eyebrows smooths out, his face uncoiling from itself. Hal is no stranger to the people in his life hiding injuries, and Bruce happens to be an expert at it, but Bruce’s skin is only marred in old wounds.

When Hal has Bruce on top of him, bare skin and smiling down at Hal, he runs a hand down his spine. There’s no new bumps or bruises, nothing out of place from the skin Hal has been making an effort to memorize. The muscle at the base of Bruce’s spine tenses as Hal’s hand comes to a stop, so he moves it further down. Hal’s thoughts turn to a barely coherent jumble soon after that.

He tries to bring it up. Tries to ask Bruce about it, but Bruce is adept at leading Hal’s attention towards more pleasurable things.

It’s not until days later, when Hal arrives at the batcave, that it all comes to ahead. It’s late at night, and Hal just spent 3 days away from Earth. The last time Hal had been gone for more than a day, Bruce had barely let him get more than 2 feet out of reach. So the fact that Bruce doesn’t even spin his chair around is Hal’s first indication that something is wrong.

“Honey, I’m home!” Hal calls out as he touches down, expecting an annoyed Bruce to swivel around and glare at him. Or perhaps a grunt of acknowledgement. He remains still in front of the computer.

“Bruce?” Hal says, a bit softer this time. He starts towards the chair.

“Yes.” It comes out strained, more of a statement than a question. As Hal gets closer, Bruce sucks in a breath and grits out “Don’t.”

Hal comes to an abrupt stop and gives the back of Bruce’s head a look.

“What happened.” Hal demands.

“Nothing.”

“Then stop giving me one word answers.”

Bruce heaves in another breath and grips the arms of his chair until his knuckles turn white. Hal braces himself for the start of a fight, but it never comes. He walks around to the front of the chair and leans against the console. Bruce is still in his suit, sans cape and cowl. He’s sitting ram-rod straight, his eyes shut and his entire face contorted in pain. Hal tries to push the panic back down his throat.

“Baby, tell me what’s wrong,” Hal whispers, reaching out and placing his hand on one of Bruce’s arms. Bruce’s eyes snap open and find Hal’s, only to immediately turn his head away, eyes falling down towards the cave floor. Whatever pain Bruce is feeling, it was enough to distract him from Hal’s approach.

Hal assesses him again. Bruce’s breathing is so carefully even. His arms are trembling, and his shoulders are tense. His back is entirely still.

Hal makes sure Bruce is telegraphing his movements out of his peripherals before he crouches down in front of him and takes his hands, lifting them off the arm rests. Bruce’s hands are clammy, they clench and unclench, trying not to grip Hal’s hands too tightly.

“How bad is it?” Hal asks, his voice still low. Bruce swallows once before answering.

“Can’t move,” Bruce pushes out.

“What happened?” It takes a bit of effort to keep his voice even, to keep all of the fear and anger out of it.

“Old injury. Lower spine. Strained it.” Bruce says, once again closing his eyes. It takes Hal a moment to recognize the look on Bruce’s face as shame. He’s blown away by it for a moment, the idea of Bruce feeling shame for something so human. But he’s familiar with the shame that comes along with pain.

“Alright. You can squeeze my hands as hard as you need to, I can take it. We’re going to get you to wherever a clean pair of clothes are,” Hal says, standing from a crouch, maintaining his hold on Bruce’s hands.

“Hal-”

“Nope, no arguing. You’re not laying in bed with me in full costume. Not unless we’re doing something sexy. On second thought…” Hal muses, watching Bruce’s face carefully. A ghost of an exasperated smile makes its way oh-so-briefly onto Bruce’s face.

“Locker room, to your left,” Bruce mutters out, his grip tightening significantly on Hal’s hands. Hal takes a step back to give Bruce room to stand, and Bruce’s eyes finally flutter open. He takes a deep breath before slowly beginning to stand.

It takes a full five minutes for Hal to help Bruce to the locker room. The idea of carrying him is quickly shot down, so Hal just supports most of his weight as they hobble to the door. Hal tries to keep a running commentary up, even as they have to pause for Bruce to catch his breath.

When they finally get Bruce seated on a bench, Hal goes about undressing him.

“Hal, you don’t have to,” Bruce croaks out as Hal begins undoing the hidden catches and buckles on his torso.

“What? Undress my very sexy boyfriend? I think yes I do have to.”

“Hal,” Bruce whispers. Hal stops for a moment and looks Bruce in the eye, framing his head in his hands. 

“Hey, I’ve got this baby, alright? I’ve got you,” He whispers back. Bruce nods and Hal leans forward, pressing a kiss against Bruce’s lips.

“I’ve got you,” Hal whispers again, his thumb stroking Bruce’s cheek. Bruce closes his eyes as Hal resumes taking apart the bat suit. He moves his arms when Hal taps them, stands on unsteady feet when Hal takes off his pants and stays standing as he helps him into sweatpants.

Hal doesn’t draw attention to the spasms in Bruce’s back, doesn’t comment on the occasional flinch. He just eases Bruce through, pauses without Bruce having to say anything.

“We need to get you upstairs,” Hal murmurs, his voice shockingly close. Bruce opens his eyes and looks at Hal. He’s sitting beside Bruce, holding his hand, staring steadily into his eyes. Bruce takes a breath before nodding.

It takes longer to get Bruce to the elevator, but Hal is able to get away with using his ring to help keep Bruce upright.

When they emerge into the manor, Alfred takes one look at them before his eyes widen in panic.

“Master Bruce!” He yells before rushing to Bruce’s other side, taking some of his weight onto his own shoulders.

“To the couch,” he says to Hal. Hal is about to protest, but Alfred seems unaffected, so he obeys. The two of them manage to get Bruce to lay sideways on the couch, his head in Hal’s lap.

Hal is momentarily embarrassed by the fact that he’s essentially cuddling with his boyfriend in front of his boyfriend’s father, but he’s distracted rather quickly by Bruce sucking in another breath between his teeth. He buries one hand in Bruce’s hair and grabs ahold on one of Bruce’s hands with his other. Bruce’s eyes are laser focused on Hal’s.

“I’ll be just a moment,” Alfred says before hurrying out of the room.

“I’ve got you sweetheart,” Hal whispers down at Bruce. Bruce doesn’t respond beyond squeezing Hal’s hand briefly. He closes his eyes again and turns his face into Hal’s stomach.

When Alfred returns, he’s holding a syringe. He gestures for Hal to roll Bruce onto his side, and Hal can feel Bruce tense again as he does. Alfred injects the painkiller into Bruce’s back and gently helps Hal roll Bruce back onto his back.

Alfred takes a moment to study Bruce’s face and take in his labored breathing before standing back up.

“That should help ease the pain, as well make him drowsy,” Alfred says. It takes a moment for Hal to realize he’s talking to him. He looks up at Alfred from Bruce’s slowly softening face.

“Thank you,” Hal responds. Alfred nods and turns to leave the room. He pauses for a moment and turns back to Hal, his eyes fluttering across Bruce, worry very clearly etched into his face.

“Thank you, Captain Jordan,” Alfred says. He’s out the door before Hal can respond. Hal looks back down, continues to study Bruce’s face. He leans back into the couch and props his feet up, listening as Bruce’s breath gets steadier.

[vincentvalenfine]

forget-me-not

Cloud understands better than anyone what it's like to forget about the important things.

"So you're telling me you forgot Marlene's birthday is tomorrow?"

All it takes is that little note of disbelief, the look that says 'you were already told a dozen times', and everything about you becomes brittle. Even your smile, accepting of the teasing up until now, feels liable to shatter away at a moment’s notice.

Luckily Yuffie isn't that observant. She takes your excuse that you've been tired and busy with WRO work as it is, then playfully suggests you'd better hurry and go pick up something nice for the kid before the ninja is finally distracted by Tifa calling her over from across the bar. It's still not safe to fall apart yet, and Tifa will question if you leave before your food even comes out, so all you can do now is stare morosely into your drink, stirring the straw about slowly.

"You look beat."

You look up at Cloud's voice, blinking a few times as he sets your meal down in front of you - and then sits down across from you. Normally he would wander off to check on other bar patrons, begrudgingly accepting his side gig here on the days where there's no deliveries to be made. But tonight's a slow one, and the only people around are his friends, so you're graced with his company for once.

Well, graced isn't the word you'd pick while trying to stave off your feelings.

You give him just a nod and poke at your food with disinterest, appetite vanished under the weight of your emotions trying to crawl out your throat and throw themselves on the table. That would be ugly, and you're pretty sure Cloud wouldn't appreciate it. He's never been big on talking about feelings.

But it seems like he's going to try for once, clearing his throat quietly. "You alright? What'd Yuffie say this time."

Not a question, but statement of fact - you had to admit the assumption made sense when the ninja has a bit of a motor mouth at the best of times. It makes you clench your teeth a little, finding brief distraction in sipping at your drink before you force yourself to answer him.

"She reminded me about Marlene's birthday. I forgot... again." You can't help the bitterness that seeps into your voice, staring down at your food that you'd normally be digging into by now. Instead, the smell of it makes your stomach twist.

It takes a moment before Cloud comes up with a response. "I forget stuff too, all the time. I get it."

"At least people are sympathetic to your reason," you snap without meaning to, glancing at him just long enough to spot the surprise in his mako tinted eyes before you abruptly stand, empty enough gil from your pocket to cover your meal, and head for the door quickly. You need some space, and privacy to lose your cool in peace.

"What was that about, Cloud?" You hear Tifa's voice behind you before the door closes, and don't bother giving anyone a chance to come after you as you practically race back to your apartment.

-

It's been... maybe an hour? Two hours? Your grasp on time is already bad enough without being caught in the throes of self-loathing and misery. The wallowing is interrupted by a knock on the door though, and you barely find the energy in you to shuffle over, still draped in your softest blanket as you check through the peephole.

There's Cloud, a to-go box in one hand and phone in the other as if he's waiting to get a message. Tifa's probably waiting for him to come back you realize, and a double pang of guilt crushes your heart in your chest. Both for snapping at him before when he was just trying to connect, and now for keeping him away from a nice, relaxing evening with his friends that are otherwise so busy most of the time. By the day after tomorrow most of them will disperse to their usual haunts until the next birthday rolls around. You're keeping him from the people who care about him the most.

"Go away," you croak, knowing he'll hear you through the door. To his credit he barely even reacts, just sets his thumb to texting before closing his phone up and tucking it away.

"Tifa wanted you to get your food. She's gonna yell at both of us if I just leave it here."

That much is likely true, prompting you to heave a defeated sigh - scoldings from Tifa are the worst, since she always knows just the right words to make you promise to do better even when your own brain makes you into a liar later. Forgotten promises and bad habits, the perfect storm to get lectured (even if it's with friendly intent) on the regular. She makes you feel like a kid again, and that stings too.

Finally you groan and unlock the door slowly, cracking it open just enough to stick your arm out while peeking with one reddened, puffy eye.

"She wants a picture of it in your fridge."

That prompts a louder groan, and Cloud just shrugs, snorting softly. You retract your arm back into the soothing warmth of your blanket, then just as slowly open the door further for him, holding it in front of yourself like a shield. Hopefully he'll just take care of this quickly and you'll be out of each other's ways in just a minute...

His footsteps on the floor are measured, and you listen quietly to the sound of your fridge opening, the belated realization of all the things you've forgotten in there making you cringe just a moment later. Now Tifa will get onto you for food waste too, shit. You wish you could retreat into your own body like a turtle to escape the upcoming scolding. She means well... but it's just another thing to stress about now.

The doorknob suddenly slips from your grasp, leaving you staring blankly with surprise at Cloud. He takes in your rumpled appearance without a twitch in his expression, a stoicism to be envious of at times. You almost wish he'd just express his disappointment already and be done with it, but instead... his hand ends up on your head, with an attempt at reassurance as he lightly brushes his hand from front to back. You go stock still in response, trying to figure out how to respond when he speaks.

"We... I just. Wanted to make sure you're alright."

For all his awkwardness, his sincerity still shines through and stabs you right in the heart. Your head droops, trying to hide the expressions flashing across it, and find yourself surprised again when his hands guide you into a light hug. He's warm, smelling like the savory fragrances of the bar kitchen and plain soap. Despite yourself, you end up clinging to him with fresh tears welling up to spill onto his shirt. His strength makes it easy for him to handle most of your weight leaning against him as he closes the door and then guides you to the couch to sit.

"It's okay," he mumbles. He's trying his hardest to be comforting, rubbing his hand on your back in slow, steady circles while you cry your eyes out on his shoulder.

When the tears finally die off again you pull back from him, though his hands catch on your shoulders in a request for you to remain close that surprises you again, but makes you settle in place and shake your head.

"It's not. I'm always going to keep forgetting things, even the important stuff, and I - don't even have the excuse of being mako-addled. It's just my stupid, broken brain."

"You're not broken."

You frown at Cloud, and he frowns right back.

"I mean it. You're just a person like anyone else, not a piece of machinery. Some of us just have shit memory too."

Now you give a disbelieving snort. His expression grows disgruntled, as if he's trying to find a way around your stubbornness, and finally he puts his hand on your head again, giving it a light ruffling motion. "Knock it off, I'm trying to make you feel better."

"You gonna just tell me to feel better next?" you retort, watching him grasp for a response again before he huffs and shakes his head.

"You don't need a reason for why your head works the way it does. We're your friends. It's okay."

You get the feeling Tifa may have said something identical to him before, and your heart writhes in your chest with discomfort. Though you make a brief attempt to pull away again, his grip remains firm; you duck your head instead, listening to an exasperated sigh leave him. Yeah, you'd be frustrated dealing with you too.

He suddenly drags you into another hug, and this time his arms are just tight enough around you to draw an undignified yelp from you at first. Against your better judgement you end up relaxing into him after a few seconds, heaving a frustrated sigh of your own. Why is he being so persistent? He'll give up eventually and it'll hurt less if he does it sooner rather than later.

"We... I care about you. Okay? It's okay to forget things." His voice is quiet, comforting even though you'd rather he not be. "I forgot Tifa's birthday. She doesn’t hate me for it."

You hate that you recognize the unspoken words behind that, the frustration with himself that makes your heart clench in empathy. You end up giving him a light squeeze around his shoulders, trying not to let his embrace comfort you in return and failing. At least someone understands what it's like to forget anything at the drop of a hat, understands the frustration and hurt, the disappointment of others and how they always edge closer to giving up on the mess that can't even remember the produce in the fridge.

You feel tears welling up again but blink them back fiercely this time, pulling back just a little and realizing his eyes are a bit watery as well now. You're both messes.

"Don't let me drag you down with me now," you joke weakly, "once you start crying it's all over."

Cloud gives a faint huff of amusement, shaking his head slightly before giving your head a pat and letting go to reach for the TV remote on your coffee table. The move makes you raise your brows, but he shrugs it off.

"I could use a break from the bar. You need to get out of your head for a while. We're gonna watch a movie."

His look is stubborn again, so you give a resigned sigh and lean back into the couch, pulling your blanket tight around you and making no complaint when his arm gently settles on your shoulders to draw you against his side. Maybe it won't be so bad to let him linger - he understands better than anyone else in the group.

And being understood... feels good. But you won't tell him that.

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

±, jondami

death headcanons

~~

I think it might depend. If they live happily and grow old and just die naturally, I think it’s peaceful. Granted, I think whoever dies second just continues to mourn and grieve for the rest of his days (and if it’s Damian I think he would purposefully put himself in some kind of harm’s way to ‘accidentally’ die and be reunited with Jon sooner) but I think the death itself is peaceful. Quiet. Nothing is left unsaid.

If one of them is killed, oh boy.

If Jon is killed, I think Damian will go into a blind rage for a few days. He’ll indiscriminately hurt those around him, maybe go too far a few times, and have to be sedated/restrained. If Jon’s killer isn’t caught on scene, then Damian puts all his rage into finding the fucker, and attempting to take an eye for an eye. (Clark and/or Lois stop him.)

Then he just…stops. I think losing Jon would be a trauma he wouldn’t recover from. I won’t even say he just grieves forever, but literally just stops. Goes numb. He stops being a hero. He stops doing art. Without Jon, there’s just no point, not in anything. So he becomes a recluse. He just stops.

If Damian is ever killed (again)…good luck. Jon would go insane with fury. Think Injustice!Clark on steroids. He’d kill Damian’s killer before anyone could blink. It’d probably be his first kill, and I don’t think he’d ever feel bad about it. Because that person took Damian, took his Damian, and they deserve to pay for it.

Everyone deserves to pay for it.

I think Jon would blame everyone around him, but the Batfamily the most. If Clark was involved in the situation, I think he’d blame his own father too. He’d hate them. And he’d tell them how much he hated them every time he saw them. How they failed Damian. How he would happily trade all of them to whatever god there was to get Damian back.

In fact, he tries. He goes to Talia. He begs for a pit. She denies him, reminds him how it’s not what Damian would want, he made that clear to all of them long ago. So Jon hates her too. Reminds her that she never deserved him. Talia reminds him that he never did either.

But when he’s alone, he’s ashamed of himself. Knows Damian would be ashamed of him too. For his weakness, for his self destructiveness. So he runs. He’s always running. Always working, always heroing. Anything to not be alone, to not think about Damian and his loss. To not see the ones he blames for it.

And if anyone hears agonizing, howling screams up in the clouds every so often, well. The people of Metropolis have stopped mentioning it.

[artemismoorea03]

Ok, but for your amusement, might I suggest:

Tucker decides Danny needs a break and a shot at a love life. Tucker blackmails Danny into ATTENDING (though he makes the mistake of not specifying for how long) and Danny runs into a bored Wayne kid. Neither want to be there. Both were blackmailed with the kindest intentions. Both decide to team up to make their well-meaning but obnoxious meddlers pay.

I MIGHT HAVE GONE A LITTLE CRAZY WITH A REPLY HOLY FUCK, I'M SO SORRY. WARNINGS FOR THE END: MENTIONS OF GUNS, THREATS OF VIOLENCE, VIOLENCE. Happy ending <3

"Danny, you need a break." Tucker said, and Danny sighed.

"This again? Guys, I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Danny." Sam insisted, standing next to Tucker. She had originally struck up this conversation when they were still in Amity Park. "You're going through a lot right now and you need a distraction that isn't work or ghost related. Gardening didn't work-" Because he froze every plant he touched, "Meditation didn't work-" because when he closed his eyes and tried to relax he would have flashbacks about the countless things he'd seen since the accident. "So the next step is dating."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Hard pass."

"Come on dude, Sam is right. If nothing else you can at least do some people watching and get to know the city better!"

Danny simply continued to scroll on Tiktok, wondering how hard it would be to do one of those dancing videos he saw everywhere. Then again he'd actually need to know how to dance for that to work. He was so busy looking at the video he didn't notice the glance his friends passed between each other before they sighed.

"You've given us no choice, Danny." Sam said, "Tucker."

Tucker held a phone out to Danny to make him see the screen as Danny's face burned red at the picture. It was a picture of him in his Phantom form after a fight with Skulker where a good chunk of his suit had been destroyed, showing off more than Danny was comfortable with.

"DUDE! I told you to delete that!" Danny said, jumping off the couch towards Tucker who was pulled out of the way by Sam who then armed herself with a frying pan. "Delete it, guys!"

"No way! And if you don't at least get out of this house and at least make a friend I'm going to make a Phantom Dating Profile using this picture!"

"You wouldn't dare." Danny glared.

"Try us." Sam said, "We'll even send it through the Ghost Zone now that the Phantom Phones are working we're bound to get some replies from interested ladies."

Danny faultered, then groaned. "Fine."

"Hell yeah, we even made it easy for you." Sam said, handing Danny a piece of laminated plastic. "One ticket to the Wayne Gala this weekend. Tucker got permission for two people to go with him. Which means the three of us are going to a party!"

"A party. A Wayne run party? You guys are just begging for trouble." Danny sighed, "Besides, I don't own a tux, remember?"

"Leave that to me."

Two days later the party arrived and the three of them walked up the drive towards the building where the event was being held.

Sam was wearing a beautiful A-Line dress that was jet black in color with a rose shaped black bracelet that was wrapped around her wrist over the back of her hand and connected to her middle finger.

Tucker was wearing a black suit with a white button up shirt with slight rose shaped patterns on it, a black tie and a thin gold chain connected to his left vest pocket. he looked very sofisticated.

Danny felt like a fool though. Silently wishing he had never let Sam pick out his clothes. He was wearing a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the black compression sleeve on his left hand, a gray vest, black suit pants, black shoes and a black tie. He was wearing a silver watch on his right hand which served as a ghost portal maker in emergencies.

He also knew that the 'pocket watch' in Tucker's Pocket was the same kind of device, and the rose Sam was wearing would release harmless smoke out of it if they needed a distraction.

Danny still felt like this was a bad idea. No, actually, this was a terrible idea. Not only because he looked out of place compared to his friends but compared to the rest of the party he hardly seemed like he fit in. He was going to draw so much attention to himself.

They walked to the front doors, showing their invitations and id's to the guards before walking inside. It wasn't as loud as some other parties they'd seen since coming to Gotham but it also was more crowded. There were people everywhere in expensive outfits, talking about... something that sounded like rich person gossip, it was boring.

"Have fun you two, don't make fools out of yourselves." Sam said, waving as she walked over to mingle with a young woman with blonde hair and another girl with short black hair, both seemed to recognize her.

"Oh, hey those guys are from my team, I'll catch you later, Danny. I wanna talk shop." Tucker said, rushing off just as quickly as Sam did as Danny sighed.

'I wanna go home.' He thought as he began to wade through the sea of people, trying to find his way to a wall where he could make himself look as small as possible. Not that it would be hard, his body was so busy developing new powers all the time it had decided that he didn't need to grow anymore after he turned 16 and stuck him at a solid 5'6".

He finally found his way to a corner, letting out a sigh as he sat down on a chair and looked out at the party happening all around him. He started to subconsciously count the people in the room, even going so far as to closed his eyes and sensed the very souls in the room. 56 people in his room, 17 in the room Sam was in, 10 upstairs. Danny then opened his eyes and got a sense for the room in another way. 45 windows lined the entire South side of the building if he was going his math right, with two sets of double doors near the front of the building. The building was mostly open floorplan which helped keep an eye on everybody but in an emergency it would be a stampede.

A man walked over, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall with a growl. He was wearing clothes similar to Danny's but with a red shirt, but what caught Danny's attention was how he felt. He was luminal but not like Sam who felt like a walk through the garden or Tucker who felt like gritty sand, no the feeling that came from this man was like fire. A burning pain that also felt like grease stuck to the back of Danny's throat.

He was luminal but the ectoplasm that made him luminal was so fucking tainted that it made Danny want to gag.

Seeming to notice Danny's glance the man looked back at him.

"What?" He growled.

"Nothing, just thought your hair was cool." Danny said, noting the white streak at the front of his bangs.

The man blinked, touching his hair. He was about Danny's age if he had to guess, maybe a bit older.

"Thanks. It's a birthmark." He grumbled, but Danny could tell that it was probably a sore subject. If death turned his hair white he could only assume it did the same to this guy too. "What's your name kid? Never seen you at one of these boring as parties."

"Danny. Danny Fenton. And I'm not a kid, I'm 19."

"Same age as me, neat. The name's Jason." Jason introduced, himself. "You work at Wayne Enterprises?"

"Kinda, I'm just the janitor, my friend was the one who was invited. I'm just one of his plus ones."

"Yikes, what'd you do to deserve a punishment like that?" Jason asked as Danny laughed.

"My friends decided that going to work then living as some kind of godless cryptid that sleeps the rest of the day 'isn't healthy' so they dragged me out here in hopes that I'll make friends. Though they may have heavily implied that they expected me to either find a date or hook up with somebody while I was here. When I said no, they blackmailed me here. I'm just hoping that if I stay small and don't complain then they'll just let me exist without getting in my face for a while. What about you, what are you in for?"

Jason hummed and nodded, "Similar story. My dad and siblings are all here and said that if I didn't at least make an appearance this time that they would hide some of my books. Among other things. Plus my older brother used the whole 'you never spend time with us' whimper while my two sisters gave me puppy dog eyes."

Danny and Jason sighed before Danny looked at him. "Wanna hang out so they think we're playing nice and leave us alone?"

"Sure." Jason chuckled, "So which ones are your friends?"

"That one there." Danny said pointing to Tucker, "Tucker Foley, he works as a Programmer at WE. Then over there is Sam Mason, she works as a Gardener."

Jason's eyes widened, "Doesn't your friend Sam work at the Wayne Manor?"

"Yeah? How do you know that?"

"My dad is Bruce Wayne." He said, his eyes going to Tucker before they landed back on Danny and he laughed. "Wait. You're that Janitor?"

Danny swallowed a lump in his throat. "I don't understand?"

"My dad came home one day and said that somebody told him that there was information happening at Wayne Enterprises that was above his paygrade an we've been teasing him about it for weeks. Now every time he asks anything we reply with 'that's above your paygrade, Bruce'."

Danny groaned, his cheeks burning red. "Oh my god, I can't believe this. I didn't even mean to say that, I just panicked when he suddenly showed up in storage for no reason and caught me... uh... testing stuff."

"Testing stuff?" Jason asked as Danny nodded.

"Y-yeah. See, I work as a janitor because I didn't graduate high school and unlike Tucker I can't just breeze through school and show off my hacking skills to get a job. So I've been using some of the tech that gets thrown away to make something that would help me temporarily lift some of the fragile heavy objects around the building and place them harmlessly down so I can clean under them. But then Bruce caught me, I panicked and that was my reply." Danny was quick to explain, which wasn't a lie he was working on something like that but it was for the Ghost Zone to help him move some heavy things around his Lair and hold down things that often floated off for no damn reason.

"You know, that does explain a couple of things. I can't imagine your boss seeing you mess with tech would be a fun thing to explain. But... if you're so smart why didn't you graduate?"

Danny shook his head, "I'm not smart, I mean not like Tucker or Sam or my family. My sister is in Metropolis studying Psychology and is already a good way through her degree because she graduated a year early. Tucker and Sam graduated and are both working on getting degrees in something but nah, school just wasn't something I could do. Sitting behind a desk learning from a book isn't my thing. I'm better at using my hands, figuring stuff out on the fly, and trial and error shit."

Jason thought about this for a moment before he smiled. "I don't blame you, school is bullshit. Just like stupid galas."

"Mhm..."

Jason suddenly smiled, "Dude, I have the best idea to get back at all of them."

Danny smiled back, "Oh, you have all of my attention."

That one choice was how Danny ended up leaning against a wall closer to the crowd while Jason loomed with one hand near his head, talking to him about absolutely nothing important just to play the position while Danny occasionally chuckled. To anybody outside of the conversation it was supposed to look like they were flirting, which in a way they were but they also weren't.

"Do you like raisins? How about a date?"

Danny chuckled, at the horrible pickup line. "Excuse me, sir, do you have the time? I would like to know the exact time when I got a crush on you."

Jason snorted, "Are you a magnet? Because you sure are attracting to me."

Noticing Tucker and Sam looking his way Danny reached up and gently touched Jason's black tie to sell it more, but he was careful not to touch Jason otherwise. "Let's flip a coin." He told the taller man, "Heads I'm yours, tails you're mine."

Jason's cheek got ever so slightly red as he cleared his throat. "Are you a parking ticket, because you've got fine written all over you." He said as Danny chuckled again, watching Sam and Tucker quickly walk away to give Danny privacy.

"If you were a vegetable you'd be a cute-cumber."

Jason relaxed again at the cheesy flirt as Danny touched the silk tie in his hands. Not because he was actively trying to flirt with Jason but because it felt really nice and expensive. Jason snapped him out of his thoughts with another flirt. "Do you believe in love at first sight, or shall I walk by again?"

Before Danny could think of another flirt another man walked over, this one about 24 or so in age. He had wavy black hair and blue eyes with tan skin.

"Little Wing! Who's your friend?"

"Ugh." Jason groaned, moving slightly as Danny let go of his tie. "Take a hint, Dickie-Bird." He groaned.

The new person simply ignored Jason though and held out his hand.

"Hi! I'm Dick, Jason's older brother."

Danny shook his hand, "Danny. Danny Fenton, it's nice to meet you."

"You too, Danny! You look a little young to be working at WE, are you here with somebody?"

"A bit of both, I'm a janitor at WE but I'm here with my friend Tucker."

"Really? That's awesome! How old are you, Danny?"

"I'm 19."

This seemed to relieve Dick in a way that confirmed any suspicion that Danny had about him checking to make sure Jason wasn't doing anything illegal though he found himself ever so slightly annoyed. Did he look that young? No, people were just blind.

"Neat! Well, I just wanted to make sure Little Wing here didn't ditch the party, so I'll let you guys go back to what you were doing. Have fun~" He said, then walked away as Danny chuckled and looked at Jason.

"'Little Wing'?"

"Dick gives everybody nicknames, it's stupid. Now, where were we?" He asked, suddenly slamming his hand back by Danny's head as his cheeks grew warm. "Oh, that's right, I was going to out cheese you with these stupid fuckin' flirts."

Danny snorted, "Do you play soccer? Because you look like a keeper."

"I'm studying to be a historian. I'm really interested in finding a date."

This continued for a long time until they ran out of flirts and by that point Bruce Wayne was about to do a speech. At least that was the plan until suddenly the doors slammed open as party was crashed by a large group of people all wearing matching masks. Masks that looked like Ghostface from Scream.

There were at least twenty of them, all heavily armed with guns that they fired into the air. Jason cursed and Danny quickly grabbed him by the arm.

"Don't." He said, looking for Sam and Tucker who were trapped on the other side of the room. They were separated, they were in a large room but with so many people they might have been trapped in a hallway. "Where's your family?"

Jason looked around, "I see my dad and youngest brother. My two sisters are with your friend Sam. I don't see the other three though."

Danny shook off the question of 'just many of you are there' and instead nodded. "Okay, my friends are together too. So we should stick together, everybody else is in groups. Rushing anywhere now might start a stampede."

Jason frowned then glared at the criminals who were pointing their guns at everybody.

"Okay~ I think it's time we get this party started. Now, let's make this easy. If you don't actively work at Wayne Enterprises or aren't related to Wayne Family via blood or adoption get on your stomachs on the ground, the rest of you stay on your feet."

"They're looking for somebody..." Jason mumbled as Danny nodded.

The majority of the crowd laid down while only about a third of the crowd remained standing allowing them to see each individual person.

"Very good!" The criminal in charge praised and looked around. "Now, anybody who makes the wrong move will get one of the people laying on the ground killed. I know a lot of you are stupid enough to try to play heroes so instead of you getting shot we'll shoot whoever is closest to us."

"Shit." Danny and Jason both said together before passing a glance at one another.

The one in charge looked around again until he looked at Danny and pointed at him. "You. Step up."

"No way." Jason said as the man pointed a gun at a young woman who sobbed in fear.

"No no, it's okay. I'm coming." Danny said, patting Jason's arm as he walked carefully through the crowd towards the gunmen.

"Nice to see you again, brat." Hissed the man as Danny raised a brow. Before he could question it though the man pointed to Bruce Wayne. "You. Step up."

"Father." The young kid standing next to Bruce Wayne said going to argue but Bruce just told him to stay put then walked towards them. Bruce kept his hands up, looking at Danny with a clear look of recognition.

"Why don't you let the kids go, there's not a lot of them but those who are here don't need to be involved in whatever demands you have." Bruce said.

"Hah, no way, Bruice-Boy." Hissed the man as two of his men grabbed Bruce by his wrists, yanking his arms behind his back and knocking him back down to his knees. "We came here today for you, but damn we're lucky that this one is here. See, if it weren't for the kid here-" The man grabbed Danny by the front of his suit, shoving the barrel against his chin. "We wouldn't need to do this. This is what happens when you meddle, brat."

Danny's heart sank before he glared. "It's you. You're that bastard who boke in a few weeks ago!"

"Yeah! And if you had just minded your damn business this wouldn't be happening now. If you had just let us do what we were going to do then it wouldn't be a problem."

"You were trying to burn down part of the building with people still inside, I wasn't going to let you."

"And how is that turning out for you now, brat? Hm?" He moved the gun from Danny's chin as shoved Danny back into the arms of two more men who grabbed Danny's arms and shoved them behind his back but let him stay on his feet. "Now, Mr. Wayne, let me explain. See, you and your company were trying to find a cure for something found in the water supply that was making some kids sick, but see were were making a lot of money selling the cure at the highest price. We were going to destroy your progress but unfortunately we were stopped by another kid who thought he was a hero. So, this is what we're going to do. You're good at fundraising so you're going to help us fundraise ransoms for each and every one of these people from their own pockets. The more a person pays the more limbs they get to keep. We'll start at 20,000 per limb." He pointed his gun at Jason. "We'll start with the young man closest to doing something stupid."

Danny growled, glancing at Sam and Tucker. Their eyes met and Danny flashed them green. Sam nodded then with a swift motion told her friends something before smashing her bracelet on the ground.

In an instant their area filled with smoke that rushed out covering the men with smoke and protecting the majority of the crowd laying on the ground in a layer of smoke while only those standing could be seen. Danny reacted as well, knowing that more people would be able to see him . Dropping his full weight down he yanked the two men holding him together as they smashed their heads together and let him go. Danny then elbowed the one to his right in the crotch before standing up, grabbing the barrel of his gun and yanking it upwards, squeezing the metal so the gun would be unusable before he pulled it from the mans hand. Flipping on the safety of the gun he spun it and smacked the man in the temple with the butt.

Danny spun the gun, moving it to his left hand before disarming the man of his gun and kicking it into the smoke in the direction of the stairs in hopes of keeping it away from people. Snapping out of their dazes Bruce and Jason also seemed to react as Bruce slammed his head back, breaking the nose of one of the men before elbowing one in the center of the chest knocking the breath out of him while Jason grabbed the barrel of the gun the main guy was using and shoved it up, causing the gun to go up and break some of the ceiling plaster but preventing people from getting hit. Deciding to leave those men to those two Danny go to work again, but this time in a slightly different way.

He hated fighting humans.

They were too fleshy and not durable like ghosts so he chose not to fight and the smoke provided the perfect cover as he froze the feet of the enemies who were still posing threats while mysterious snake like shapes wriggled under the smoke and yanked the men under to where they would later be found wrapped up in plants or ice. One by one the men were taken down until there was a pained cry that made Danny turn when he heard Bruce shout.

"Jason!"

Danny turned, seeing Jason rubbing at his face. There as a cut above his brows from a knife. He had managed to get the gun from the man but he had pulled out a knife.

Protect.

Danny snarled, taking a step forward as the man went to stab Jason. Danny and Bruce moved at the same time with Bruce covering his son. But Danny made it to them before the man could make contact and he got in the way of the attack. Danny held the wrists of the man as he barred his teeth.

Danny shoved the mans hands upwards, knocking him back slightly before he spun and did a roundhouse kick. An attack that he might have put just a bit too much power into as the man was thrown a good ten feet backwards towards the stairs and the doors that he had broken down. Danny could hear the man wheezing and coughing, seeing him flailing desperately under the smoke but not getting up.

No sooner did Danny relax and turn back to the Bruce and Jason then did Batman (who seemed shorter today for some reason), Red Robin and Signal showed up with the police and a verity of confused looks.

"You sure you're okay?" Danny asked Jason who nodded, his forehead bandaged.

"Just a scratch, headwounds bleed a lot. I'm more confused what the hell just happened. Normally the bats react more quickly than that when they send in a smoke screen."

Danny chuckled, "You have a lot of experiences with the bats?"

"I'm a Wayne, it comes with the territory. Are your friends okay?" He asked as Danny looked towards Sam and Tucker who were mostly just waiting for Danny to finish but Tucker was also hacking on his phone to erase whatever data he could from the security cameras as he possibly could.

"They're fine. I'm going to get an earful for being reckless though."

"I don't think you were reckless. But... how did you learn to fight like that?"

"Uh... long story. Where we come from though the saying 'fight or die' was serious and there were daily reminders of it. But again... long story."

Jason nodded, looking drained. "Well... I know that this whole thing was just a way to get our groups off of our backs but how would you like to get dinner together some day? Just as friends, I mean I'm not against maybe trying some day but right now I kinda wanna get to know you. Besides, I'd like to thank you for protecting me and my dad."

Danny thought for a moment before he smiled. "Sure." He reached into his pocket and handed Jason his phone. Jason typed in his number then handed the phone back. "Get home safe, Jason."

"You too, Danny."

Danny started walking away when Bruce suddenly called out.

"Danny." Danny stopped and turned towards his boss, shrinking down slightly before Bruce smiled and put his hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"All good."

"Are you sure? You did really well out there but if you're hurt you should get looked out."

"I'm not hurt, Mr. Wayne, I promise. Just really tired."

"Alright, if you're sure." Bruce moved his hand and smiled, "Thanks for saving us, Danny."

"Any time, Mr. Wayne, but let's not make a habit out of it, okay? I moved to Gotham to get away from craziness like that." He said, waving his hand as he walked to his friends as he wrapped his arms over both of their shoulders and they made their way home.

"So, you guys have fun?" Sam asked as Danny looked at her.

"You know what... kinda, yeah. At least until the end."

"Did you get his number?" Wondered Tucker.

"Of course I did."