(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent
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Tw: vivisection mention (not in detail), bad Fenton parents
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Pt. 2 here) (Pt. 3 here)
(Masterlist/subscription post)
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It was a dark, cold, miserable night, and Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, wanted nothing more than to be home, covered in blankets with the heater set to max as he worked on his most recent strain of fear toxin.
Instead he was at the docks, standing in as backup for the Penguin as he made a deal with some sleaze-bag smugglers. Something about some sort of body armor for his hired help. Crane hadnât really paid much attention to the Penguinâs words, only caring enough to show up because of the reward.
But honestly, he couldnât care less about the money at this point.
He was cold, and miserable, and his leg hurt something fierce (heâd had chronic pains ever since being mauled by Killer Croc some time ago), and he was so, so close to a breakthrough with his new toxin, and he really couldnât stand the Penguin anyways. The only thing keeping him there was his reputation as a rogue.
Just as Crane was deciding that the whole ordeal wasnât worth it, he heard the sound of a chase a few blocks down. With a deep, heavy sigh, he moved from the wall he had been leaning against, looming in the alleyway as he waited for the potential threat to reveal itself.
A few moments later, a boy came careening into the alleyway, sliding to a stop when he noticed the Scarecrow, his eyes growing impossibly wide. Beneath the mask, Jonathan grinned.
The boy swore, loudly, glancing between Scarecrow and the exit of the alleyway. As the echoing sound of footsteps grew closer, he chose to face the way he came, turning his back to Scarecrow.
What an idiotic way to get killed. Either the boy was a complete and utter fool, or there was something out there worse (to him, at least) than the Scarecrow.
Jonathan Crane tilted his head slowly, considering. He could just cut his losses and leave, Penguin be damned, or he could stay and see what had the boy so spooked.
Eventually, unfortunately enough, his curiosity won out. He shifted, bringing a hand to his side where he kept several canisters of fear toxin.
Crane had to bite back a groan when the boyâs pursuers entered the alleyway.
It was those damned idiots in white suits.
They had been tailing him for weeks now. They were easy enough to fight, but they were annoyingly persistent, and always seemed to have a way to find him. (Not to mention, the Riddler had strong opinions on their outfits, and if he had to hear the white-suit-in-Gotham rant one more time he was going to throttle him.)
Led by the men in white was a woman in a teal hazmat suit. Jonathan had seen her around, too, though less frequently than the others. He had honestly assumed that she was just a new C-tier rogue and avoided her like the plague.
Her eyes went wide as saucers when she saw Jonathan standing a few feet from the boy. No one moved a muscle.
âDanny,â the woman spoke softly. The boy, Danny, flinched, glancing between her and Scarecrow, âcome on, we can talk about this. Your father and I only want to help you.â
He was running from his mother?
Scarecrow paused after that revelation, choosing to fully take in the boyâs appearance.
He was lean, almost gaunt, and wearing clothes several sizes too big for him, probably stolen. His entire body shook, from fear and cold both, and he clutched his stomach with one hand. At first, Scarecrow assumed that it was due to being out of breath, but as he looked closer he could see blood staining the dark fabric of the boyâs shirt.
He was injured, underweight, and running from his parents.
Something that felt a lot like rage swelled in Jonathanâs heart.
âDanny, you donât get it! Weâre so close now. We can fix you, and then we can go home, and everything can go back to normal,â she said, smiling in a way that was clearly supposed to be reassuring. She took a few steps forward, the men behind her clearly readying their weapons.
The boy backed away from his mother, inadvertently coming closer to Scarecrow.
He glanced up at Crane again, his blue eyes shining in fear, but not of him.
Sickening. Sickening.
In one fluid motion, Jonathan grabbed the boy by the wrist, pulling him behind him, and threw a large canister of fear gas into the group who had been chasing him.
The liquid in the container turned to gas as soon as it broke open, billowing out and filling half of the alleyway with a thick yellow smog.
The boy gasped, pulling his shirt over his face in a pathetic attempt to filter out the toxin. It would have to do, though, Scarecrow thought, rushing forward to force the boyâs aggressors to breathe in the gas.
The fight that the men put up was pitiful. The few individuals who didnât breathe in the toxin immediately were clearly unused to fighting hand-to-hand, and dropped like flies in Scarecrowâs wake.
Just as the men began to spasm and shout in their terror, as if on cue, the familiar wail of police sirens reached the Scarecrowâs ears.
He heaved a heavy, irritated sigh, fingers twitching for a cigarette. He was trying to quit as of late, but he felt that after today, he might deserve one.
Though now was not the time to be thinking of cigarettes.
Jonathan approached the boy, mindful of any signs he might run off.
The boy didnât seem to notice his approach in the slightest, just staring at the woman in the jumpsuit as she writhed on the ground.
Right. That would most likely be traumatic for a child to see, wouldnât it?
Scarecrow moved in front of the boy, blocking his line of sight. The boy looked up at him now, his face completely blank.
âThe police are on their way,â Scarecrow spoke, his voice low. The boy didnât acknowledge him in any way.
âYou donât want to be here when they arrive, do you?â
After several moments pause, the boy shook his head slowly. He looked numb.
Dissociation, most likely.
âYouâll come with me, then.â
It was a statement, not a question, but he waited for the boyâs response regardless. As soon as he nodded in agreement, Jonathan lifted him up, carrying him out of the cold, miserable alleyway.
Scarecrow paused briefly to warn the Penguin of the incoming officers through the comm he had been given, and then he was off, weaving through the streets and alleyways towards his getaway car.
âŚ
The drive back to his safe house was quiet. The boy didnât look over at him once, instead opting to stare out ahead of him.
âŚ
Luckily, they were able to make it back without detection. Jonathan ushered the boy into his small apartment, sitting him down on the dingy couch that had come with the lease.
âWait here, alright?â Jonathan said, the boy nodding once in response.
With that, he retreated into the small kitchen, looking for some sort of warm beverage.
It was nearly three in the morning now, so coffee was out of the question. He was completely out of the hot chocolate he had bought for whenever Eddie or Harley came over for a visit, so that was out too.
He supposed the only option was his chamomile tea. Did teenagers like tea? He supposed it didnât really matter, the kid was on the run from his parents in the house of a Gotham rogue. Surely he had bigger things to worry about.
Jonathan made the drinks quickly, leaving the kitchen with two mugs in hand. He gave one to the boy, who looked up at him in surprise, before settling into his own seat.
It was an incredibly comfortable old leather armchair that he had gotten some years ago and stubbornly held onto ever since. He usually had one of the rogues he was at least somewhat friendly with pick it up when he entered Arkham.
Whenever Eddie and Harley were over, they would call it his old man chair, and he would tell them to leave.
The two of them sat quietly for a while, drinking their tea slowly. It was clear that the boy was leaving whatever headspace he had slipped into, becoming more alert (and uncomfortable) by the second.
âSo,â Crane began, pausing before speaking more quietly when he saw the boy flinch, âyou knew them.â
It was not a question.
The boy nodded, curling in on himself. He held the mug close to his chest, no doubt soothed by the warmth.
âTheyâve been following me around for some time now,â Crane continued, âand youâre going to tell me why.â
The boy looked up at him, a pained expression written all over his face.
âYou wonât believe me,â he murmured, curling up even further.
His clothes were soaked. Jonathan should have put down a towel before letting him sit down.
âSure I will,â he said, ignoring the blood and water seeping into his furniture.
The landlord would not be happy.
âItâs gonna sound crazy.â
âIâve been to Arkham.â
The boy paused, before mumbling something quietly.
âAgain? I couldnât hear you.â
âI said,â the boy huffed, quickly changing his tone when he remembered who he was talking to, âtheyâŚthink youâre a ghost.â
âA ghost,â Crane repeated flatly.
âI told you it was gonna sound crazy!â The boy protested, before wrapping his arms around himself.
âWell,â Jonathan hummed, âitâs not the strangest thing Iâve heard in Gotham. Explain it to me.â
The boy paused, glancing up at his face, no doubt looking for some sign of mockery. He found none.
Then, he opened his mouth, and explained everything he could.
Ghosts, the portal to another world, the GiW, his parents. It was all incredibly far-fetched, but also far too consistent to be made up on the spot, and Crane could tell that the boy genuinely believed what he was saying.
ââŚbut, if you donât believe me, fine. I know it probably sounds stupid and fake,â he mumbled, looking away.
âIâll believe you for now,â Crane said. The boy whipped his head up, staring at him in shock.
âIf I do trust that what youâre saying is true, though, then why do I show up on their equipment as a ghost? Iâm not dead, and never have been.â
âUm,â the boy hummed, looking somewhat nervous. Understandable, really.
âWell, have you by any chance been involved in any lab accidents recently..?â
Jonathan Crane froze, his face dropping. The boy noticed his change in demeanor, flinching slightly.
âPenguin,â he hissed out, his voice slightly inhuman. âCobblepot, that motherfucker.â
âWaitâcalm down! The angrier you get, the easier youâll show up on the radar!â
Crane glared down at the boy, seething with rage. He once again flinched, looking away from him. With an extraordinary amount of effort, Jonathan slumped back down in his chair, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself.
When he cracked his eyes back open, the boy was openly staring at him, curiosity written all over his face.
As soon as he noticed Crane looking back at him, he glanced away, straightening in his seat.
âWell, youâve given me a lot to think about. In the morning, weâre going to discuss this in a lot more detail,â he said, standing up with slow movements. The boy stood as well, hands clasped together.
âFor now, though, youâre going to let me take a look at that wound of yours, and then youâre going to take a shower and go to bed.â
The rest of the night went rather quickly.
The boy was rather hesitant to show him his wound, instead assuring him that it had been properly sewn up and that he was fine. Crane was having none of it, though, and gave him a once-over just in case.
It was, very clearly, the kind of cut used during an autopsy. Danny didnât offer any information, so Crane had to assume that he was either back from the dead, or he had been vivisected. Either was possible in Gotham.
At the very least, Danny hadnât lied about the stitches, and the wound was already beginning to heal.
With that, Danny showered quickly (he leapt out with a shriek the moment the hot water ran out), and went to bed in borrowed clothes without much complaint.
Thus, Jonathan was left with cold water for his shower, and slept on the still-damp couch so that the boy could have a bed to sleep in. Somehow, he found that he didnât mind as much as he thought he would.
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Hey guys, do you remember this London scene from Sonic 3?
Okay, so Iâm rewatching the movie once again, and something clicked for me this time.
I alway associate this moment with one reaction channel that was reacting to the trailer for the movie. While watching it the guys pointed out that the position of everyone in the shot looks odd. Like if somebody is missing there! Trailers likes to omit some moments and details that are only gonna be present in the release version. They hid Shadowâs super form in the trailer, for example, while still showing the scene itself. So, the missing character is not that big of a stretch in this situation.
As we all now know, there were actually no character there. Later when they were reacting to the movie itself they even noted that âwow, guess there were no hidden character in that odd spot after all, huhâ. And they left it on that.
But now Iâm watching the movie again, remembering that reaction, and still thinking: why is that odd blank spot there?
And I think I have an explanation!
Itâs a cool visual representation! You see, by this point, we have a few conflicts on our hands. On one side, the main plot of the movie - with Sonic and his team versus Robotniks. But we also have the conflict of found family vs blood family - Agent Stone vs Gerald Robotnik. Both of whom dragging the blanket of Ivoâs attention on themselves.
We already saw the scene where Ivo and Gerald spend their âquality timeâ together in VR. And we saw how hurt it made Stone. Although, he canât be mad at Eggman about wanting to spend time with his previously presumed dead grandpa-
-but heâs not obligated to be happy about being ignored either. Stone is not used to being forced to share Ivoâs attention with anyone else, and it shows.
And so now we come back to scene I started this whole discussion from. And what we see?
A literal GAP between Agent Stone and the rest of Robotniks!
Yeah, I did on purpose called all the three of them Robotniks. Despite everything, Shadow was like a brother to Maria. We see from the flashbacks that in the past Gerald too cared for the alien as for his own kid. âTheyâre trying to take Shadow away from us, Maria!â HE CARED! So Shadow I can count as technical Robotnik, alongside Maria Robotnik, Gerald Robotnik and Ivo Robotnik.
And they all stand on the left side of the shot, leaving Stone standing alone far to the right corner. The closest standing to Stone is Ivo, and even he is âone human-sized gapâ away from him. (The gap that Gerald can and want to fill in to achieve his goal)
It might also be that Stone himself has chosen to separate himself from the group here, feeeling as if heâs not part of it. Not part of Ivoâs family! And isnât it sad!?
The scene hurts even more when you remember that at the start of the movie, in the first scene where Eggman shows up, he calls Stone âthe only person in the world I could trustâ
Stone: Doctor, you have visitors.
Eggman: Oh, really? I thought I was having an anthropomorphic nightmare, where the only person I could trust in the world shows up with all my worst enemiesâŚ
Ok itâs partially bc Iâm in a mental drought due to irl stress of trying to improve living situation things⢠⢠but I deadass do not know what to draw and post anymore cuz of how Iâd only ever draw and focus on twf. Like Iâm focusing on other things and as much as I wanna keep twf alive rn thereâs zero insp at all and myself and the rest of us have all squeezed out every last drop from it and idk itâs really depressing
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it does not necessarily reflect on the status of wlw book recs bc, in this case specifically smth like 70% of the picks were valid (albeit selling them as wlw books was perplexing to me) and solid choices, but inserting the book that is the equivalent of madeline miller does norse mythology is very funny and a very low bar