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kitkats-and-kittens · 3 months

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One of my favourite things to think about is the rest of the batfam all having their own ‘Brucie Wayne’ personas. So here’s me listing how I imagine the main family members would front to the public.

Dick

I think would be very similar to Bruce with the same air-headed personality. As far as the internets concerned he can’t spell orange and pretends not to know any of the 50 states let alone which one he lives in. He also uses the fact that he never officially finished college to his advantage. As a kid he was more eccentric and people just knew him as that little kid whose constantly high of sugar and lollipops. Not much changes when becomes an adult.

Of course like father like son and he is also extremely charismatic. His persona is a little more goofy than Bruce’s and he’s known as the Wayne’s resident gymnast, at least in the air. He’s made a habit of acting as though any and all fine motor skills come to an absolute stop the moment he isn’t doing some complex flip, or cartwheel. There are serval videos on YouTube of him tripping over air, spilling drinks over his shirt, and stumbling into several guests, only half of these were faked. He also has a reputation of being an absolutely insane drunk. He went viral on twitter for doing a triple backflip in the middle of a gala which resulted in a shattered punch bowl, several traumatised guests and a fake news report claiming he’d died which sent the city into a riot for the next 24 hours all because he was a little bit tipsy.

Jason

Jason was pretty young when he ‘died’. Before hand he was the happy go lucky kid. With stars in his eyes and more energy than a Chihuahua hiked up on red bull and pure, liquified blue raspberry. Of course you had the occasional leech who saw in some news report that he used to be a street kid which resulted in several rumours about his ‘horrid violent nature’ but all it took was actually meeting him for most to completely disregard this.

After his death he doesn’t hang around the rest of the family much. Especially not in public and out of masks. However there is the occasional day (once every millennia or so) where he’ll stroll up to whatever part or gala or social event the Wayne’s are hosting that day, with his foolproof, impenetrable disguise Tayson Jodd absolutely no relation to Brucies dead kid, nor the elusive red hood who has a hate account dedicated to his very existence.

His whole thing tends to be a regular upstanding member of society. He acts completely normal. This wasn’t always the case. He used to change it every time he went to the parties, either acting as some depressed, lonely rich guy or an alcoholic and on one particularly memorable occasion a closeted drag Queen. However one time he showed up without a persona pre made and ready to go and just decided to wing it.

However Tim Drakes insane paranoia meant he stayed up a good 3 weeks after that night just to make sure Jason wasn’t trying anything and when Red hood found out he found it absolutely hilarious and resolved to be as respectable as possible while also generating maximum suspicion for all other members of his family.

Stephanie Brown

Although not officially adopted by the Wayne’s most people have gotten used to seeing her just roll up with the Wayne’s and it didn’t take long for social media to realise that Brucie had emotionally adopted her, if not legally. At first Steph didn’t really understand the need for a persona. She was already fine with keeping her actual personality and not turning it off for the cameras.

It took seeing Jason, who was having an absolute blast with his public persona to open her mind to the range of possibilities and she spent a full 3 months crafting a personality from scratch (putting that psychology degree to good use).

She cycled through a couple. Rich party girl, serious career woman, ditzy idiot. But eventually she landed on scheming socialite. She saw some tabloids slandering her for being Tim’s ex and although the rest of the family was not happy she took it and ran with it. Landing herself in the circles of the most gossip loving, shit talking, hot woman she could find.

She makes sure she exudes villainy at all times and has been seen eyeing Timothy Drake from across the room, stroking a cat (though no one knew where she got it from) and sipping a martini. Although she doesn’t particularly like how cruel some of her companions are she finds no greater joy than passively aggressively remarking about how Donna is wearing the same heels she was 3 years ago and oh my is she running low on funds? She was born to instigate and takes every opportunity to do so.

Tim Drake

If Tim is known for anything then it’s his ability to appear as though everything has gone to his exact calculations on the outside while internally screaming and just completely winging whatever half brained plan comes to mind. But one forgets, he isn’t just a Wayne but a Drake. Son of Janet Drake at that.

As a kid he was very much a mamas boy and would replicate her cold calculating air to the best abilities of a 10 year old boy. As he grew up however he realised that he much preferred letting people underestimate him. So in the end he settled on the stoner.

It was pretty unexpected for most of his family. Bar Dick who embraced it with all the reverence of a chaotic older sibling. Of course Tim Drake being as meticulous as he is meant when he made this persona built it from the ground up. He gave himself a favourite drug, a fake dealer, and he methodically updates his account balance every week, taking out just enough that it looks like he’s been buying.

Not only does this have the added benefit of explaining the random times he’s passed out in the middle of a party or those random compilations of him on YouTube simply staring into the abyss for hours on end, but it also means he had to try way less than his siblings when it comes to presentation. If Dick or Bruce show up with even so much as a slightly ruffled collar the tabloids will go on for weeks about the mystery guy or girl they definitely slept with. But when Tim does it, they just laugh. He gets a pat on the head and a glass of water shoved into his hands and no one thinks anything more.

And if he can also use it as an excuse for a few extra minuets of sleep then whose going to stop him?

Cassandra Cain

Cass didn’t need to do much of anything. When she first arrived in Gotham she was small, quite and not very well versed in social customs so it was practically written in the stars that she’d become an instant fan favourite. However unlike most of her siblings most of her fans aren’t focused on her what she’s been doing, or with who, but rather on trying to spot her.

She’s some aloof, mysterious figure to them and she’s also become a bit of a where’s Waldo meme. News reporters will post overview shots of the huge hall the guest are occupying, the grounds of the manor, the well kept lawns, the roofs, and the internet will go crazy trying to find her. At first it was difficult but only because she kept to herself, you’d find her in a corner of the room, or hiding behind one of the taller guests but ever since she realised what was going on she’s been making a conscious effort to make it as difficult as possible.

Some of her hiding spots include: under the table, the roof, inside the fountain, disguised as Dick Grayson, a statue, on the chandelier, and somehow as one of the reporters, camera and all. It’s become a bit of a game to see who can find her first and she remains Gothams favourite Wayne.

Duke Thomas

Duke isn’t really sure what to make of this whole public persona thing. He finds hiding such a big part of himself a little strange, and doesn’t much enjoy the idea of putting on a mask for others. So he does what he does best and puts the rest of the Wayne’s to shame with his sound logic.

He’s just himself. And somehow manages to cause the biggest impact. The people aren’t used to rich people not being overly eccentric. This is Gotham after all! And Duke Thomas’ actual personality is not exactly something they were expecting.

This is the same man who raised an army of teenage armies in the absence of his hero. To call him impulsive would be an understatement. Also he very much enjoys ‘eating the rich’ so to speak. He used his powers to convince one particularly nasty man that he needed full psychiatric care by randomly disappearing whenever he was in their line of sight.

He hangs out with Dick a lot, but only so when the worst of the Gotham socialites approach he can make them feel as uncomfortable as possible by questioning their thoughts and feelings on the working class, living conditions and all the other stuff they usually couldn’t care less about which leaves them scrambling for an answer that won’t completely ruin their reputations. Although he’s been branded ‘the responsible one’ that’s only because he presents himself as such to reporters. Most of the people attending the galas live in fear of him ever approaching them.

Damian Wyane

Being the youngest meant that people already had expectations by the time Damian showed up. Although most had no idea where the kid came from that didn’t stop them from making assumptions, and the rumours circulating from before he was officially introduced range from a mini Bruce Wayne to raging alcoholic. And yes, these were published when reporters knew damn well he was 10 years old maximum.

When the public do finally see him for the first time it doesn’t take them long to craft a persona for him. Damian of course sees this whole thing as beneath him, he doesn’t understand why he would need to hide himself, he didn’t train with the league for years to just not show of his skills. Dick tries to get him to think of it like training, as though he were on an undercover mission. This works a little too well and now he takes it so incredibly seriously it’s hard for the others not to laugh.

He arrived, squeezed in between Brucie Wayne who was blowing kisses to the camera, Dick Grayson doing a handstand, Tim Drake who looked absolutely blitzed and Stephanie Brown who was manically rubbing her hands together. Cass nowhere to be found and Duke giving his classic sunny smile to the camera.

So of course people realise this kid must be the adult. There’s jokes about how Damian must be the one doing the Wayne’s taxes, about how he probably drives Bruce to work, and other such things. Which is only further cemented by the kid himself. But he also doesn’t talk much (Dick said if he had nothing nice to say he shouldn’t say anything), and a few (illegally taken) photos show him drawing, as well as his small army of pets and so people are torn between this kid who is clearly far too mature for his age and this cute baby of a child who likes fluffy animals and crayons.

Damian is disgusted by both sides, but there isn’t much he can do about it and resolves instead to fuck with everyone by leaning into it and alternating on a seemingly random basis between clueless child and grown adult in a 10 year olds body. It mostly ends up terrifying the rest of his family because occasionally Damian (who several of them watched kill a man) will come up smiling and demand to be placed on their shoulders, and other times the same kid (who found a cow a decided immediately he was a vegetarian) will be found sipping straight vodka and going on about the good old days with people 8x his age as though he were some drunken world war 2 veteran.

#bruce wayne #richard grayson #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damian wayne #Public persona #batfam #they were born to terrorise the rich #dc comics #brucie wayne #Tayson Jodd

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acadjonne · 10 months

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so hear me out

tim drake and danny fenton are twins

jack drake really did have a brother named eddie, once upon a time. eddie drake also had a wife, and she was expecting twins, but of course gotham is gotham. right before the twins would be born, eddie died, but his wife was brought to the hospital and lived long enough for the twins to be born.

jack and janet drake adopt the older twin, tim, because people knew that eddie and his wife were going to have a baby, and they had been considering having a kid themselves. but no one knew the drakes were expecting twins, and jack and janet don’t want two babies, so they arrange for the younger twin to be anonymously given up.

well, through some insane miscommunication, the other twin ends up in illinois, where he’s adopted a few months later by jack and maddie fenton. of course, because danny was given up anonymously, there’s no information whatsoever about his birth family

tim finds out he’s got a twin when he’s eleven or twelve by finding his birth certificate and an ultrasound print in his father’s safe. he starts looking for his twin, but doesn’t find a whole lot on his own.

(even when tim becomes robin, he never thinks of mentioning his twin to bruce.)

when they’re 14, tim meets sam manson at a gala in gotham. she’s originally from gotham as well, but moved to amity park as a kid, so this was her first time back in a long time. danny had just recently found out he was adopted, so of course when sam sees tim and he looks exactly like danny, she puts two and two together and approaches tim.

once sam gets back to amity, she puts danny and tim in contact. they agree that it sounds super unlikely on paper since danny was found in a hospital in chicago, while tim was born in gotham, and danny’s birthday is a couple days off from tim’s because no one knew exactly what day he was actually born, but they also look way too much alike for it to be coincidence.

of course, before they can get a dna test done, danny’s portal accident happens, and he gets super squirley about it after that whenever tim mentions it. plus they’re both minors and the drakes are never around to actually consent to it so it would be kinda weird for tim to insist on a dna test at that point.

but they stay in touch for the next few years, both expertly dodging any mention of their hero activities, and even manage to meet up for their sixteenth birthday. they hang out for a weekend in cleveland because it’s neutral ground, pretty much right smack in the middle between amity park and gotham. then, a few weeks after the events of d-stabilized, shit hits the fan.

valerie knows vlad is also plasmius, and after giving (dani) ellie a good head start, she starts going after him, outing him to the whole town in the process. of course, vlad assumes danny is the one who told valerie, so he outs danny as phantom as well. vlad manages to shake valerie, the fentons, and the giw, but danny isn’t so lucky, and gets captured by the giw.

of course, once they find out he’s been captured, sam, tucker, and jazz start planning to break him out and get him somewhere safe. obviously they can’t take danny to either the manson or foley houses, the giw would check there first, and they can’t take him to jazz’s college dorm either. gotham has a lot of ambient ectoplasm though, and the giw (probably) wouldn’t go anywhere near batman’s territory even with the anti-ecto acts, so sam calls tim and asks if they can take danny to him once they rescue him.

of course, tim had no idea about anything going on in amity park, not that team phantom knew that. turns out the giw have been covering things up forever, and the extremely high ectoplasm leaking from the fentons’ portal doesn’t help either. but of course sam assumes he knows because most of amity park is actively protesting against the giw and demanding danny’s release and it’s about to start getting violent any second now, and if it’s such big news in amity then of course tim knows danny is phantom by now, right?

but tim’s able to keep hold of himself long enough to let sam know that yes, danny can come to gotham, all of team phantom can come to gotham once they’ve rescued him, and once he’s let her go he immediately goes to the other bats and sounds the alarms

so queue the justice league showing up in amity park to deal with the giw, and inquiries about the legality of the anti-ecto acts and how they overlap with meta protection laws get raised, and danny gets rescued, and team phantom is evacuated to gotham.

once things have calmed down, tim tells danny about being red robin and they bond over hero stuff. danny fixes jason’s pit-induced anger problems because holy shit dude your ectoplasm is rancid. bruce of course takes on look at danny and decides to adopt him.

anyway, thanks for coming to my ted talk.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #tim drake #danny fenton #tim drake and danny fenton are twins #listen the whole ‘giw and fentons find out about danny by accident and he has to run to Gotham’ thing is fun #but i think we as a phandom sleep on valerie finding out about vlad being plasmius in d-stabilized way too much #and like vlad would totally think danny told valerie since he was literally bragging about how easy she was to trick #so if valerie went after him for being plasmius he’d immediately turn it around and out danny too #plus in this case it works as a way to get danny to gotham and get him to join the batfam which is great #honestly i wanna write a fic about this but i don’t even know where to start #so enjoy my 1am ramblings of ideas that have been rattling around in my head for several days now #drake twins

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zahri-melitor · 7 months

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Next up time for more intense angst in the Potted Fanon Histories with Robin III, TIM DRAKE:

Tim, newborn: His parents bring him home from the hospital to the family mansion in Bristol, Drake Manor. They are millionaires.

Tim, 3: Was at Haly’s Circus. Saw the Graysons die.

Tim, 8-9: Realises that Dick Grayson is Robin after seeing him do a quadruple flip on the news. Becomes immediately obsessed with Batman & Robin. Starts sneaking out at night with a camera to take photos.

Tim, 8-9: Jack and Janet Drake decide that their child is just so mature and competent that really, they’re too busy with their work running a multimillion dollar medical company as internationally renown archaeologists. Tim is now left at home in Drake Manor, with a housekeeper and/or nanny.

Tim, 10-13: shortly after Tim gets into his new hobby of midnight roof vigilante photography, Jason becomes Robin. Tim is now obsessed with this new younger Robin who cares so much for children.

Tim, 10-13: attends Gotham Academy. His parents return home at irregular intervals for a few days without warning. They repeatedly encourage him to network with other children at school for Business Purposes. At some stage they decide he no longer needs adult supervision at home, as he’s just So Responsible. Mrs Mac now drops in for a couple of hours per week to do the vacuuming and cook.

Tim and his parents: Janet is an Ice Queen and Jack is abusive. Tim is unaware that this is not normal. He is being raised as a Business Baby. He is expected to skip grades at school and be working 2-3 years above his age cohort.

Tim, 11-13 (yes we’re sticking with a wide range here): Tim finds out Jason is dead when Bruce announces it in the paper. During his nights out he notices Bruce is getting more violent. Tim goes to find Dick in Bludhaven to tell him that Bruce is too violent! Dick shrugs him off so Tim is determined – he goes to Bruce and tell him that there must be a Robin and insists it is him.

Tim, 13-14: is a smol sad bean. He is now Robin and Bruce is less violent but he’ll never be a Robin like his hero ~*~Jason Todd~*~. Bruce accidentally calls him Jason and looks at the memorial case all the time. Tim knows he’s not really part of the family but he’s doing his best as Robin.

Tim, 13-14: Tim goes on a trip to Paris where he encounters assassins. No further details.

Tim, 13-14: Dick starts dropping by the Manor and Gotham every second weekend to patrol with Tim as Robin, because he’s so guilty about Not Spending Enough Time With Jason. They become close, like brothers.

Tim, 13-14: Tim encounters Steph as Spoiler when she hits him on the head with a brick. They immediately start dating.

Tim’s Parental Free Square: Janet and Jack are both alive and well and neglect Tim. They have not realised he is Robin as they’ve been home for 6 weeks total in the last 5 years.

Tim’s Alternate Parental Free Square: at an unspecified time Janet died. Jack went into a coma. Since then, Tim has been living at Wayne Manor in a spare room. One day, Jack might wake up, but it’s been months or years now.

Tim, 14: Tim forms Young Justice with his best friends Kon, Bart, Cassie and Cissie. They hang out together and play baseball in space! (the only plot that happens here)

Tim, 14-15: Tim and the rest of Young Justice (minus Cissie) become Teen Titans. No reason why, they’re just old enough now. (The only plot that happens here is Titans of Tomorrow where they meet their evil adult selves)

Alternate Robin Tim plot: Joker Junior! Due to either Reverse Robins or just a desire for whump, Tim is captured by Joker and tortured till insanity. He becomes Joker Junior.

Tim, 14-15: there’s a new villain in Gotham haunting the streets, Red Hood. Bruce is now obsessed with him and has no time to pay any attention to Tim. He has told Tim not to patrol. Dick is also worried. Tim, forbidden from going out in Gotham, goes to hang out at Titans Tower (location unspecified). Jason turns up and beats Tim up with his own bo staff and may slit Tim’s throat. Alternately, Tim sneaks out in Gotham anyway and encounters Red Hood on another occasions where he gets his throat slit. This is a major injury that scars badly.

Tim, 16: His parents die. His best friend, Kon, dies. His girlfriend Steph dies. Tim is very distraught by this and refuses to let Bruce adopt him, inventing a Fake Uncle. He tries to clone Kon 99 times in a basement.

Tim, 17: gets adopted. He meets Damian and Damian immediately tries to deliberately murder him. Several times.

Tim, 17: Bruce dies. Tim is convinced he is not dead. If Battle for the Cowl happens, Jason tries to kill him with a batarang. Once Dick is Batman, Tim and Dick fight over whether Bruce is dead. Dick says Tim is crazy and should be in Arkham. He then tells Tim that Damian is now Robin. Tim, furious, drops out of school and runs away and becomes Red Robin.

Tim, 17: Tim is captured by Ra’s Al Ghul. He loses his spleen. He gets away by blowing up ALL the League bases and hundreds of people die. He then returns to Gotham and falls out of a tower due to Ra’s Al Ghul. Dick catches him. The spleen loss is a secret.

Tim, 17: Tim gets emancipated and is no longer legally a family member because that’s how emancipation works. He now runs Wayne Enterprises as CEO. Everyone is impressed how good at it he is and how hard he works.

Tim, 17: Tim is still mad about what Dick said to him. Damian again attempts to murder Tim, this time by dropping a billboard on his head and when that doesn’t work, by cutting his line. Dick takes Damian’s side, and explains Tim can’t be Robin anymore because Damian just needs it so much more and look how well he’s doing!

Tim, 17: Bruce returns due to Tim’s research but he’s now mad at Tim because Tim tried to kill Captain Boomerang (who killed his parents).

Tim, 17: (optional angst) the Daughter of Acheron tries to rape Tim and Cass saves him. This provides angst. Cass is the only person who knows or cares.

Tim, 17: Jason apologises for trying to kill Tim multiple times and blames it on pit rage. Tim accepts this as a good explanation and becomes Best Brothers with Jason as he has apologised.

Tim, 17: Tim’s no longer part of the family and it gives him ANGST. He’s just so sad. Also he just can’t trust Dick any more and their brotherhood is Eternally Destroyed. He’s just a Coworker.

Tim, currently: Tim comes out as bi and starts dating an old classmate, Bernard. They live on a boat. Bernard was in a paincult for a while. Tim is Robin.

Alternate Tim, currently 17: Tim is living in an apartment and running Wayne Enterprises. He does not live at Manor but he has a bedroom there. This is an argument between him and Bruce. There is still tension between Tim and Dick that they are both sad about, but Tim is cool with Jason. Tim has either forgiven Damian or they fight constantly every time they’re near each other. Tim is Red Robin.

Tim, currently: is in a relationship with Bernard, Kon or Steph, pick one. If Tim is in a relationship with Kon, Bruce vaguely disapproves and says “no metas in Gotham” a lot.

#potted bat fanon histories

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sungbeam · 2 months

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BIRD HUNT — two

nonidol!choi line x f!reader

gotham city is a gutter running rampant with the ill, corrupt, and the insane. at times, justice and vengeance must be served by one's own hand... no matter the lengths one must go to do so.

▷ genre, au, etc. bat family au, dc comics inspired, dark, vigilantes au, slow burn, ceo/billionaire au, cat woman!reader, murder mystery au, action, suspense, angst, slow burn-ish?, love square??; choi line inspired by dick grayson (csb), jason todd (cyj), and tim drake (cbg), including bruce wayne for choi minho and damian wayne for nishimura riki, inspired by 2022's The Batman

▷ chapter warnings. swearing, mentions of death and murder, mentions of weaponry, blood, mentions of suicide but no actual act thereof, one suggestive comment

▷ word count. 4.3k // taglist. open

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FILE_02 : behind every man

gotham city.

[three days since your mother was murdered.]

You had no real friends or allies in Gotham City besides your mother and your extended family of stray cats. The metallic smell of blood had begun to cling to the walls after an hour of holding your mother's body close to you.

The police had come when you called.

They deemed it a suicide for simplicity's sake.

When you pointed out the note in a rage, they left it embedded in the wall as it laughed at you. Your hands were covered in your mother's blood like a morbidly crimson finger paint, and the damn cops weren't going to do anything about this. Not for someone like you. Not unless…

Not unless you used what you had in your arsenal.

It was stupid, you had thought at the time. It was an open invitation to get yourself thrown in the ringer by… oh Hell, you shivered so violently, it could be compared to a Magnitude 7 earthquake. No, you could never forgive yourself if you did that—the stupid idea popping into your head. And yet…

You knew that your mother would have never allowed you to sacrifice yourself so vulnerably. (The irony of the matter was that your mother would probably do the exact thing you were considering, had she been in your position.)

But by the third day of not leaving the apartment at all, you had made up your mind.

It was time to go see your father.

"We're investigating the murder of a mayoral candidate, Yeonjun, not a stripper."

Yeonjun rolled his eyes from where he sat in his armchair, legs crossed neatly over one another and his elbow perched on the armrest. There was a distinct look of boredom on his face as the flames of the fire in the hearth flickered across the sculpted grooves of his features. "Well, I know that. Strippers are more fun."

Soobin pretended he hadn't heard that. He pressed his index finger and thumb to his eyelids with a deep sigh. "So at least one of us has to be present at the company for the Choi-Palmer Merger. And at least one of us has to be present at the meeting with Commissioner Kim about the investigation."

"In unif—"

"In uniform," Soobin confirmed.

Beomgyu sipped his third cup of coffee this morning (it was approximately seven in the morning and he had a brief nap from one to two). There was something so addicting about the bitter taste and the buzz at the back of his head. He didn't feel like himself without it. Definitely not healthy, but he hadn't been healthy for a while. "You say at least one of us for both. So which one needs two of us?"

Yeonjun closed his eyes. "Why can't dad and Riki go?"

Soobin sent him a glare that Yeonjun pointedly ignored. "Because they're out of town? They've been out of town for a week, dude. Where have you been?"

"Serving justice," Yeonjun droned.

It wasn't difficult to sense the tension in the front parlor of the Choi Manor. There was always some sort of tension present, especially between the brothers. Riki never really dealt with it because they all had a soft spot for their half brother, and because Riki was too much like their father, Choi Minho, to care about what other people thought. It was no surprise as to why Riki was the favorite child. Soobin, Yeonjun, and Beomgyu had long since accepted it and wholeheartedly agreed. It was one of the rare few things the Chois could all agree on, actually.

Soobin strived to hold in another sigh. "Okay, fine. Whatever. I'll go meet with Kim to talk about what the Hell's going on this time." He slipped his phone out of his pocket to double check the details of the meeting and where it would take place. Usually, they would be in uniform under the cover of night, but there were exceptions. Plus, corruption nor crime waited for nightfall, so why should they?

Yeonjun nodded as he pushed up from his seat. He stretched his arms over his head, the popping of joints dull yet satisfying. "Cool."

As the two older brothers began to make their way out of the room, Beomgyu bolted upright. "Hey, wait! Who's doing the Palmer Merger?"

"You," Soobin and Yeonjun answered in sync—then promptly gagged to themselves. That was the cringiest thing they could've ever—

"Where the Hell are you going then, Yeonjun? There's no way you would entertain politicians," Beomgyu complained with his arms crossed firmly over his chest. "Even the dead ones."

Soobin's eyes narrowed at the slight dig at himself, but Yeonjun simply waved a flippant, uncaring hand. "I have a hot date."

Soobin scoffed. "With who? Your hand?"

Beomgyu didn't even bother suppressing his giggles of utter delight, especially when Yeonjun sent a look at his younger brothers. "You're both so rude—"

"Whatever you say, old man," Beomgyu jested. He picked his coffee cup up from the table and made his way past his brothers. "Have fun or whatever." As he walked away, his footsteps were so light that even in the hollow hallway, not even the dust stirred. His voice was distant and muffled as he called out for the family's butler and right-hand, Alfred Pennyworth, about what tie might go well with today's soon-to-be successful merger.

While he was away, Soobin clapped a hand on his older brother's shoulder as they too went down the hallway, but traveled further past the grand staircase in the foyer and into the chamber of a small elevator. "You know, Lee would murder you if you called your meeting with his girlfriend a 'hot date.'"

Yeonjun folded his arms over his chest. The elevator carriage began descending deeper into the manor's land to its subterranean levels. He scoffed. "Who said the hot date I was referring to was his girlfriend and not him?"

"Just marry him already," Soobin rolled his eyes, his head shaking.

The elevator came to a smooth stop, the door sliding open to reveal the massive, yawning cavern below the grounds of the Choi Manor. The squeal of bats echoed against the cool, stone walls and the LEDs installed into the ground and in select areas of the cavern roof blinked to life as the two brothers walked past them. It was a generous basement space that acted as headquarters for the family's alter egos as well as housed their vehicles. Beomgyu had called it the "Bat Cave" at one point, to which everyone in the family pointedly disagreed to. Their father was not pleased with it at all, but it had unfortunately yet gradually begun to stick.

Soobin stopped at a doorway that came up just before they would have reached the massive set of computer monitors and controls. He glanced over his shoulder to watch Yeonjun don a pair of matching brown leather gloves as he headed for the garage levels. "Hey."

His brother's split eyebrow quirked upward.

"Stay outta trouble, will ya?"

Yeonjun smirked. "I thought you knew me better than that, Bin."

Soobin huffed a sigh. He really couldn't control his older brother, nor his younger brothers, but he could definitely hope and dream. "At least wear a helmet, dickhead," he shouted after him.

The lights built into the perimeter of the runway shuttered to life as Yeonjun skipped up the steps to his beloved motorcycle. He cooed at his vehicle, hands gently caressing the handlebars and polished metal that he lovingly maintained. "Hi, baby. How we doin'? Can you hear that? He wants me to wear a helmet like you won't protect me."

"Oh my god, he's talking to it again." Soobin turned away from his strange, strange brother. He had much bigger fish to fry than worrying about Yeonjun. Contrary to popular opinion, Yeonjun could unfortunately take care of himself (most of the time).

Soobin pushed into the doorway and into the arsenal chambers. These were lit in dim, blue-white lighting—colors that Yeonjun and Beomgyu detested because of the clear "bias" toward Soobin and their father's uniforms, but Minho had simply rolled his eyes and approved the order for blue and white LEDs. There were separate rooms for uniforms, weaponry, and other gadgets that might be needed while out on patrol, but since this was simply a… conference of sorts, Soobin donned his black and blue uniform, along with the black domino mask fitted over the upper half of his face.

While Yeonjun was partial to his beloved pearl-handled pistols (and things that went BANG BANG, in general), Soobin preferred his escrima sticks—twin batons that were wired with tasers. Hand-to-hand combat and close combat was his specialty, and it was how his father had first taught him to fight. Everyone in the family could fist fight, but some preferred it and some didn't.

Once everything was in place, Soobin headed out to meet with Commissioner Kim about a man's murder. He hoped this wouldn't be a massive waste of his time.

You had never liked the look of the Iceberg Lounge. Its front door was like a rusted garage, and it was fixed below an active metro line. The train rattled on by every ten minutes or so and blew your hair behind and to the side of you as you monitored the exclusive club across the street from you. You had only ever been to the Iceberg Lounge a couple times, and that had been years and years ago when you had been pint-sized and your mother still acknowledged your father's presence. You wished you could carry on her routine of no longer acknowledging him, but desperate times called for incredibly desperate measures.

There weren't many ways you supposed you could break into the lounge without having to go through the front security. You could probably try to scale the wall to reach that one window way up there…

Or save yourself the trouble by simply going through the front. You sighed, clambering out of your car and making your way over to the front door, where a pair of big bouncers stood stationed outside. There wasn't a line, not when it was still day and there was too much risk of people recognizing other people.

The two men eyed you, and you them. You bet they could manhandle you if they wanted, but you flashed them your ID, and the one on the right lowered his mouth to his communicator. "Capo's daughter is here."

Ah, so he had been keeping an eye on you.

You were granted entry.

The smell of sweat and booze hit you like a massive gust of wind. The men behind you chuckled at the way you gagged, the doors slamming shut behind you. Your eyes shuttered like a camera lens in an attempt to quickly accustom them to the dimmed, blue-white lighting.

There weren't many people around at this time of day. You came upon a balcony railing that looked down to what you assumed to be a dance floor below. Above, you caught the gleam of the upper offices that overlooked the rest of the club with walls made of thick panes of glass. But your destination was further up, and so you made your way to a set of elevators to the left.

If you ventured down to the floors beneath the dance floor, you would find the VIP lounge—the real Iceberg Lounge. You remembered recognizing famous people you'd seen on TV down there before with scantily dressed women hanging off their arms like jewelry.

The elevator carriage brought you up to the top floor that opened up into a penthouse suite. Washed out white light poured through the window at the far wall and shelves of books and manuals and ledgers lined the walkway into the living space. There was a muted jazz tune playing from the record player in the far corner; you never thought your father would listen to jazz, really. He had always been a classical guy when you were young.

"It's been quite a long time—" You whirled around to find a tall, lanky man stepping out from one of the doors on the right side of the room. He wore crisp, black silk clothing, his face sculpted and well-kept. The hair on the back of your neck stood. "—but I suppose the phrase is 'better late than never.'"

You swallowed and steeled yourself. You didn't cry, you really didn't. "Mom—" your voice broke, "—mom's gone. I don't… I didn't know what to do or where to go…"

Your father hushed you as he enveloped you in his hold. You wondered in the back of your mind why he was so cold.

"It's okay, Yn. It's going to be okay."

You didn't cry. You really, really didn't.

But this was your mom. You loved your mom. "She's gone," you croaked into the expensive material of his shirt. "Someone killed her." There was a sort of grit in your voice from the congestion, but you liked to think it was passion.

His hand came up to smooth the hair at the back of your head in a sort of comforting gesture. You would take what you could get at this point. "Then they will pay, Yn. I will find them—you know I can."

You felt as cold as your father's body heat. "Do you know who could have done this?"

"I have ideas," he said quietly.

How was he so calm? You were close to shaking the information from him and going to deal with them yourself. Your father pulled away from you to take a look at your blank face. He placed a hand on your shoulder, guiding you to the sectional and offering you to sit with him.

"You know I have my enemies," he murmured. He leaned against the back cushion, eyes glazing over. "I'm just sorry you and your mother had to suffer because of them."

"Who?"

He glanced at you. "I don't know who exactly—"

"Then give me options." Your voice had steeled again, like your resolve. You swallowed—but you were still just a scared, little girl. You knew your father had enemies, but he had double the amount of connections and triple the power. You would exploit it if it meant bringing your mother the justice she deserved.

"Would you like to help?" That piqued your interest. Your father lifted a hand. "I understand that this is dangerous… this is a dangerous world, but you can be even more dangerous, if only you were given the proper guidance."

Those words… you didn't realize how much they could send a jolt through your veins. You weren't sure if it was good or bad though. But at this moment, it seemed to be what you wanted to hear.

"Could we… could we have a funeral for her?" Perhaps that was one of the only things you wanted. That, and justice. And maybe for your mother to come back.

Your father's eyes shone—with what, you couldn't tell just yet. "Of course, Yn. We can have a funeral. That is a small thing." You wished you had known just how small it was compared to all of the things he would ask of you.

There was a vintage diner located far from the Choi Enterprise building and far from anyplace anyone would think to find a member of the prestigious family. That was why Yeonjun loved it so much. Plus, the waffles weren't half bad.

A plate of said freshly made waffles had just been placed before him when the bell above the diner door jingled its merry, little tone. He hummed in delight, dancing in his chair a little bit, as he fed himself a chunk of the waffle smothered in melted butter and sweet maple syrup.

"Ooh, that looks so good, Jun."

Yeonjun grinned as another chunk of waffle went into his mouth. He glanced up from his plate only for a second in greeting to his so-called hot dates. "Mhm, she's a beauty."

He dug his fork and knife into the waffle piece, moaning softly with his eyes closed. "Mm-mm! Hear that crunch? Music to my goddamn ears."

Felix Lee rolled his eyes, tongue poking his cheek through an ill-concealed smile. There was a young woman next to him, who was already sliding into the squeaky, red vinyl booth across from Yeonjun. She was pretty—that much Yeonjun knew. After all, he was the one to have introduced his best friend, Felix, to her. It took a lot of courage to give him away like that.

Felix himself was a blond—well, not fully blond, but—wait a second.

Yeonjun shoved his bite into his cheek. His eyebrows furrowed, and he gestured to the tips of Felix's hair. Said tips that were now burned a scarlet red. "It's red."

Felix slid into the booth beside his girlfriend, who most everyone referred to as Nana, and braced his arm over the booth behind her. "Good to know your eyes still work, Choi."

It was always so strange, the contrast between the little nose and freckles to the deep, ass voice. Even after years of knowing him, Yeonjun still did a double take sometimes. He supposed it was good for scaring the shit out of the baddies when they couldn't see his face, and they only heard his voice and felt the sting of his arrowheads.

"Don't give me that, Arrow Boy—"

"Just saying, Red Hoodlum—"

Nana hit the table with her palm. "Hey! Can you bozos wait until I've had coffee before you start your lover's quarrel?"

Yeonjun averted his eyes to his waffle plate, and Felix winced. "Ah, sorry babe." Felix flicked his wrist to signal a waiter. The kid who arrived was the same bored, overworked and underpaid one who had delivered this golden plate of Heaven to Yeonjun. "Can I get a plate of that—" he gestured to the Heaven, "—and two cups of coffee? But both with a bit of milk as well."

"Thank you!" Nana called after the boy after he gave a dull bob of his head in acknowledgement. She then settled her elbows on the shiny, white table and braced her chin on her hands. "How're you, Jun?"

"Great," he replied between bites. "Managed to dip out on company duties and 'good guy' shit—"

"A normal day," Felix added.

Yeonjun lifted a shoulder like a half-hearted shrug. He wasn't about to disagree. "So everything's comin' up—"

"Order up!"

Nana perked up as the waiter kid set down twin mugs of steaming hot coffee. The woman delicately blew over the scalding hot surface while her boyfriend scarfed the shit down like it was water. It was funny, Yeonjun thought as he watched the two of them. So different, yet so similar. Felix was usually quite sunny and polite, like his girlfriend, but sometimes Yeonjun brought out the worst (he liked to think it was their true best) in people. Felix was actually a neighboring city's own watchdog and resident bow and arrow enthusiast, Speedy.

Yeah, Yeonjun loved that name when Felix told him what his vigilante name was. Tch. Speedy. He bet that was exactly how one could describe their experience with him in—

"That's good coffee," Felix said as he set the cup down. Empty. He glanced over at Nana who had just finished stirring in a packet of sugar and took a generous gulp of her drink. "Cheap but good, hm babe?"

"Mm," she hummed in affirmation. She set the mug down. "Okay, okay. Shall we—"

"Here's those waffles." Another plate of Heaven touched down onto the table, was slid over to Nana, and suddenly the words disappeared from her tongue as she indulged in pure goodness.

Yeonjun finished off his first waffle and vaguely gestured in the air with his fork. "I'm starting to think the universe just doesn't want me to find my mom."

Felix shrugged. He turned his head, eyes still looking at Yeonjun, as Nana fed him a fork of waffle. He swallowed, then replied, "Maybe. But it's not like the universe has done you any favors."

"That is so true, my friend."

"Why do you say the universe doesn't want you to find her?" Nana queried between bites.

Yeonjun set his utensils down then drummed his fingers against his chin where he had braced against his palm. "Well, for starters, it keeps interrupting you."

"Well," she emphasized, "you can stop thinking that, because I found a trail."

His breath hitched.

Felix grinned at his friend's reaction, arms holding his girlfriend by her shoulders. "See? Isn't she so good? She's so talented, such a genius."

"Nana Lee—" Yeonjun began.

"Yeonjun, that is not my name."

"Hey, let the man speak! And what do you mean that's not your name?"

"—I love you so much," Yeonjun finished, hands clasped together in prayer. As for whom he was praying to… well, he believed in no god, only himself. And perhaps the woman seated across from him.

Felix narrowed his eyes. "Okay, bro."

"Chill," Yeonjun said with a pointed look. "Nana, please do tell me what lead you have caught and how I may repay you."

Nana shook her head at this. "Oh no, you're not repaying me, Jun. Not for this."

"Oh, come on," he protested. He nodded to his best friend. "Back me up."

Nana sent Felix a sharp look, to which he could only raise his hands in surrender. "Baby says no, I say no."

Yeonjun narrowed his eyes at Felix this time, face twisted into an expression of pure disbelief. "Oh my god, you simp. Every other moment I give you a chance, you're begging me for money."

Felix coughed as Nana's eyebrow flew upward. "I've changed my ways, babe."

"Mhm," she hummed in disbelief, then returned to her waffles. Sometimes Yeonjun wondered how this pairing even worked, and then he realized that he needed to give himself more credit. Because this pairing definitely worked. He suppressed a chuckle to himself, but he knew Felix saw the way his eyes were alight in silent laughter.

Shut up, the blond seemed to say.

And in proper Yeonjun fashion, he smirked. Make me. "So, the lead?"

"Oh, yes. Right." Nana swiped a napkin over her lips. "She was put in witness protection quite a while ago." Yeonjun and Felix paused their squabbles, both of them fully tuning into Nana's findings. "Usually, they don't release such records to the public for obvious reasons, so I don't know much about her new identity."

Yeonjun cocked his head to the side. "Much? So you know something."

"She doesn't live in Gotham," she said. She paused, considering something. "But again, I found a trail. It's faint, but a trail is a trail."

He couldn't agree more. "Send me it when you can."

Soobin found that domino masks were relatively comfortable. They were definitely more comfortable than the entire cowl thing that his father wore as the Batman, and they didn't make him feel like he was suffocating. The rooftop of the police headquarters allowed for lots of breathing room, so as he inspected the photos of the scene the commissioner had given him, he didn't feel like he was being caged in. Most of the time, he figured out how to shut himself off and to focus on the details and the job. Others… it was a little more difficult.

The man in the pictures had been murdered executioner style with a kill shot to the head at close range. The victim would have been at the mercy of his killer. There was blood spatter on the floor, the walls… all standard stuff. But the most curious thing about the scene was the note that had come with it.

"Hey." Soobin lifted his head up from the folder and pictures. A figure in lean, armored red and black touched down onto the roof with his grappling hook, feet as light as a feather. Beomgyu also had a domino mask fitted to his face to hide his identity. He made his way toward his brother, his black cape moving with his footsteps. "What'd he give you?"

Soobin shifted the images slightly so Beomgyu could tilt his head and see for himself. "That was quick."

"Yeah, Palmer didn't fuckin' show up," Beomgyu grumbled.

Soobin clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Guess we can say bye to him, then."

He grunted. "We better. If he comes crawling back, you're dealing with him because I'm not wasting another nicely ironed suit again for that idiot. Or Alfred's time, for that matter."

Soobin could get behind that.

"What the fuck's that?" Beomgyu picked up the photocopy of the note.

Right. That. It was a simple piece of paper, but with the words "A Debt Repaid" typed in large letters and basic sans serif font. There was a bit of the victim's blood on it, but that was expected. The note had been dusted for prints, but as expected, none were lifted. Based on this, it might have been a crime of passion, especially since this mayoral candidate would have made lots of political enemies. But looking at the method of death, there was something still detached about it.

Majority of the signs pointed to an assassin—a skilled killer of sorts, probably for hire. What Soobin couldn't hit the mark with was why? A Debt Repaid, was the supposed "explanation." But why? Who decided this man had offended someone so badly that he deserved to die? Soobin didn't like researching politicians, but politicians were so easy to dig up shit on. And if they deserved it (as most did), finding the shit and exposing them for it was always a job well-done in his books.

Justice, after all.

"A note from the killer," Soobin said plainly.

Beomgyu considered it for a moment. "Why does it look familiar to me?"

His brother turned to him. "Huh?"

"It just looks familiar for some reason. Maybe déjà vu or something," he dismissed with the flick of his hand.

"Mm." Soobin stared at the lifeless eyes of the mayoral candidate. His name was Lee Sungjae. He had a wife, three children, a house in the suburbs. And he was dead.

Guess he had some research to do. Soobin balked though; he really didn't like politicians.

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harpie-raven · 10 months

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No no no cause I was listening to “Gunpowder Tim vs. The Moon Kaiser” again and I noticed something

When Jonny talks about Tim in the song, all times except for ONCE he only refers to him as “Tim”, not “Gunpowder Tim” (again, save for that one time—which I’m gonna get to). And since Tim’s the hero of this song, you’d expect a heroic ballad to have the title of the person mentioned more than just once, and it is ONCE.

Not even in the end when Tim blows up the moon does he call him his “title”, he only says it once—and it’s at the beginning of that solemn section after the verse where Tim loses it.

It goes from Tim going ballistic to Jonny introducing him as “Gunpowder Tim” for the first time, talking about all the violent and insane things he did

I can’t place exactly why this makes me feel things but it does?? Like—I fucking love Tim for so many reasons, but this is one of my favorite songs cause there’s just so much for me to think about in it, and that part STICKS with me fr—

#I think about this too much tbh #like #those last two verses #they STICK with me #the mechanisms #the mechanisms band #gunpowder tim #gunpowder tim vs the moon kaiser #mechanisms mechanisms mechanisms #mechanisms tales to be told #jonny d'ville #the toy soldier #raphella la cognitzi #drumbot brian #baron marius von raum #nastya rasputina #doctor carmilla #ivy alexandria #ashes o'reilly

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perseus-jackass · 2 months

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EEEK YOU’RE A BATFAM FAN AND A PJO FAN THAT IS SOOO COOL tim is my favorite but i love jason and the fact you crossed him over with luke?!?!?! i’m going insane please tell me more about your fic friend!!

All I have to say about the Jason and Luke thing is that Anastasia has a TYPE.

AHHHHH OKAY OKAY so on the batfam side everyone except Bruce and Dick are demigods bc I think it’s funny.

Alfred- Themis, who’s actually a titaness but she’s actually the titan of justice, divine law, divine order, and custom, which is perfect for him (also that makes the fates his sisters which is hilarious to me).

Selina- Hermes obviously.

Jason- Poseidon bc I’m obsessed with it within the context of him dying 4 months before his 16th birthday??? Like I’m having so much fun with that.

Cass- Ares which I feel is self explanatory, but I’m also obsessed with her having to reconcile being the child of the god of violent, bloody war and her childhood (I might actually end up writing a connecting oneshot just exploring that).

Steph- Hermes the vibes are there and again, loving playing with the parallels of Arthur Brown being a villain she has to fight and the Luke, who’s her brother.

Tim- Athena duh.

Duke- APOLLOOOOO. NOT JUST BC OF THE LIGHT THING BUT HE CANONICALLY HAS SO PRECOGNITION ABILITIES IN CANON?? too perfect.

Damian- Damian is actually a legacy, not a demigod. Ra’s is a son of Hades. I had a fun idea about Lazarus Pits being corrupted wells of the Styx that crossed over into the mortal world.

And I think this will be the first time I post about this part, but Jason is going to be a part of the Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth crew. Luke ends up in Gotham when he goes south from Connecticut and they meet first. This is both so him and Luke have a good relationship and because Jason and Thalia being close is why Zeus doesn’t just kill him 😭.

ALSO ALSO Roy is a son of Hephaestus (blessed by Apollo bc Oliver is an Apollo kid (all Oliver’s kids are blessed by him but Roy is the only one that’s also a demigod)) and I have a really funny scene of Jason meeting the Titans for the first time and they’re like

bc Roy and Anastasia have a brother-sister relationship so Roy and Jason know each other pretty well. Also the demigods know superhero identities bc of Roy and Oliver.

And this is just some of what I have 😭 I’m still just writing out the timeline rn

#no grave can hold my body down (i’ll crawl home to her)#codi screams #jason todd x oc #batfamily #luke castellan x oc #percy jackon and the olympians #jason todd #roy harper #oliver queen #tim drake #cassandra cain #duke thomas #stephanie brown #damian wayne #selina kyle #alfred pennyworth #luke castellan

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bradassholemajors · 5 months

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Wtf Is Shock Treatment’s Deal? (Or, Local Critic Discovers Escapism and Having Fun In The Midst of Late Stage Capitalistic Dread)

Watched Shock Treatment for the first time this week, and I am a changed man lol. Here are some disorganized thoughts:

I think something that makes Rocky Horror so special is that it can be as deep or not-deep as you want it to be. Like, if you want to think about the cultural implications of the themes portrayed (hedonism, gay & trans liberation, gender roles, the Invasion-of-the-Body-snatchers style infiltration of outside queer forces, the downfall of the safety contained within a collective identity), you can absolutely do that! There’s so much to be interpreted there!! But if you are just here to see Tim Curry looking incredibly sexy and violently thrust along to the Time Warp at a midnight showing with a bunch of cool strangers, that is absolutely awesome, too. Slay!! Take what you want.

BUT SHOCK TREATMENT MANNNN??? Shock Treatment is a whole different ballgame lol. Like, it is also a thematically rich goldmine, if you’re willing to squint a little— in terms of content included, not necessarily how it’s portrayed within the narrative. In the words of Barry Bostwick here, “it was a statement about the future that we weren't quite ready to explore. We didn't really even have the mental emotional vocabulary to understand what Richard [O’Brien, the creator] was trying to say.” I think this is spot-fucking-on!!! It’s absolutely frighteningly prescient, especially today in terms of the commodification of mental health. Like, woah. Janet being crowned “Miss Mental Health” felt like such a Gwyneth Paltrow moment. Cultural prophet Richard O’Brien saw the dark cloud of Betterhelp and wellness culture galloping over in the horizon in the distance of the American landscape, and he set out to warn us.

I still don’t quite understand what happened in the movie. I still don’t know what my takeaway was supposed to be. And I guess if you’re a little insane and love having fun doing thematic analysis with weird media (like me), taking Shock Treatment seriously may be right for you, lol. But thematically overall I think it’s safe to say: it’s a lot less coherent than its predecessor. It’s messy. It’s not interested in being flawless. It’s not interested in appealing to an audience. It’s barely interested in being a sequel. Shock Treatment is lowkey pointing and laughing in the face of those who showed up expecting a masterpiece— which admittedly was me, because I take Rocky Horror pretty seriously. (I put off watching Shock Treatment for a while bc I wasn’t sure about how it would affect the Rocky Horror Universe I had in my head.) If not for the internet reviews prepping me, I would have walked in completely expecting another nuanced perfect symphony of a movie to measure up to Rocky Horror’s magic.

But the thing was? Watching Shock Treatment, it ended up I did not really care!!!!! I was having the time of my life!!!!!

(more under the cut whoops)

Wtf was going on!!!!!!!!!!! Who knows!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I still don’t quite know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I loved it!!!

This reaction of such joy, just letting myself vibe out made me think because when did I start getting surprised when watching a movie is more pleasurable than not??? Isn’t that the entire point of media??

I think with the modern commodification of media analysis and examining pop culture up close, I’d argue that Fun Media without a message is actually pretty hard to come by— at least in mainstream culture. Even stuff as sanitized as Disney movies are now digging into like generational trauma, appealing to what seems to be a collective search for depth (or at least the appearance of depth.) Modern neo-nazi brands of fascism wields power like never before, horrific images of violence follow everyone left and right. Sometimes it seems like this open secret, that everyone knows there’s this looming darkness at the forefront of our minds at all times.

So this transition from Rocky Horror to Shock Treatment felt actually sort of powerful to me. Rocky Horror’s generation-long reverberations of shamelessly depicting sensual revelry are so powerful; it’s bold even for today! (Of course, we all know transvestite isn’t a term commonly used today, but looking at it through the lens of its time, it becomes clear what a miracle the movie is. Knowing what it must have meant to queer people at the time it became a phenomenon— giving them a real space to be themselves in a hostile world criminalizing who they were, in a time of oppressive pressure to stay silent — that is the type of brave blatant acceptance hard to come by in any era.) Rocky Horror is something I don’t know if will ever happen again, and its sequel seems to concur.

Shock Treatment has been called a cash grab but I beg to differ. If you’ve seen it, no offense: but does this seem marketable to you??? It seems like it’s a Richard O’Brien project (already wacky) that went through several levels of development hell and heavy modifications through the creative process. Said with the utmost respect… it may have got away from them a bit. Put lovingly, Shock Treatment lowkey kinda sucks a little at times. It’s silly, it’s got a huge cast and musical fun galore. It’s serving B-movie realness. I don’t say this to bash on it, I say this with a bemused respect— I think the existence of Shock Treatment is as much a miracle as Rocky Horror (aren’t all creations???)

So in the first iteration, we have advocacy and fighting for freedom for those long silenced… but also, Shock Treatment seems to allow the creators to just let themselves have fun. Aren’t they both revolutions in their own right? Does everything have to be lasting cultural milestones or does our enjoyment matter in the moment? I’d argue we need both as human beings to thrive. It comes back to that Rocky-Horror-experience philosophy I covered where you’re taking what you feel you need most from the media you consume: a message or a celebration of just being here.

In conclusion, sometimes shit doesn’t have to be that deep. More movies should just say “fuck it, we ball” and give you the most absolutely incoherent fun time of your life. I love not taking things seriously, and I love creators willing to not take their work seriously. Perhaps Richard O’Brien also had a premonition with Shock Treatment in the sense of how he just had fun with it! Maybe we need less attempts at masterpieces and more attempts at just creation for the joy of it— or both, because joyful creation makes masterpieces!!! I’d love to see more creators of every skill level and every background, known and not known, say fuck you to capitalism and expectation and marketability and just say, we’re gonna do it anyhow, anyhow!!!

#this got away from me #just like #shock treatment #may have for #richard o brien #media studies #hey janet. i’ve got something to say #this is so incoherent but I’m okay with that ❤️ love and light ❤️❤️#written while I was so so sleep deprived pls only discuss if you are nice and kind abt it lol #love me writing a whole essay on how cool it is to not take things seriously - taking it Very Very Seriously #mamma mia #<- this is also abt her in a. way #Farley flavors call me

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meetmyothersouls · 1 year

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It's Not You, It's Me

Part 12

Warnings: recovering from an accident, bruising, wedding, braxton hicks/contractions, violence/violent situations, a single gun (not used), feelings of dread and sadness, this is quite long so, please bare with me. Not proof read

What should have been a weeklong hospital stay, turned into two, then three, then before you knew it, Timothee had been in the hospital for a month. During yours and Timothee's stay, there was an interesting new development in your pregnancy: Braxon Hicks contractions. The first time you had one you thought for sure you were going into labor, luckily the hospital Timothee was staying at was the same hospital your OBGYN was at and the same hospital you were delivering in. So, your doctor saw you every time you had one, "just to make sure," you told them. By the time, Timothee was released, and a quick wedding ceremony was in order, you were eight months and a week pregnant, feeling like you were about to burst at the seams.

The week that Timothee was released from the hospital was exponentially busy, filled with dress fittings (your least favorite part considering), physical therapy for Timothee, somehow getting a church on board for a last-minute wedding, finding an ordained minister (which ultimately did not work out. Luckily, Timothee's best friend Stephane went the extra mile and spent the week getting ordained) and finally (and almost forgotten) obtaining a marriage license. Nicole took the matter of guest list, invitations, decorations and food into her own hands.

The night before the wedding, Timothee seemed distracted. He paced the floor of your shared apartment, biting his fingernails. He hissed in pain as he bit one down too far, drawing blood. The sight brought on one of the fake contractions. You winced a little as you got up, walking them off seemed to help.

"What's goin' on, Tim?" You asked, walking over to him. "Not getting cold feet, are you?" You asked, mostly joking.

Timothee quickly turned his neck to look at you, wincing in pain from the movement. A lot was still difficult for him, and it worried you to no end. "Of course not!" Timothee smiled, the bruising around his eyes and faded into a nasty yellow color, but somehow, he still managed to look insanely attractive. "I should be asking you that, you know? The one who always runs off." Immediately your faced dropped and Timothee quickly added, "I'm kidding. I'm kidding! No, really, everything's great, y/n. We're getting married tomorrow, our daughter's gonna be here any day now. What more could I want?"

You winced again at a second false alarm contraction and Timothee put a hand on your belly and ran the other through his hair. It was something he did when he was nervous. Then, his index finger went back into his mouth as he chomped on the already torn fingernail. You chalked it up to last minute jitters as you closed your eyes.

"We don't have to do this, you know?" He said quietly.

Your eyes popped open and you pulled his other hand into yours, hoping to minimize the torture he was putting his fingers through.

"I know, but a ceremony is important and I think your mom would flip if we didn't have one."

"I know, but-" Timothee slid his hands out of yours and went back to pacing the floor. He'd mellowed out a lot since the beginning of all this. And the accident left him a little fragile. Secretly, you hoped he'd get back to his normal devious self. Maybe after the wedding and after the baby was born, he'd settle back down.

"But....?"

"But," Timothee sighed, launching back into a pace. "I'm just freaking out. And probably over nothing. It's stupid. Forget it."

You rolled your eyes. "No. Fuck that. You can't just say that and then tell me to forget about it. What's going on, Timmy? Tell me."

You waddled over to him, hoping it looked like anything other than a waddle. You stopped him mid pace, pulling his hand from his mouth and took it in yours. His other hand went to your cheek as he brushed strand of hair behind your ear. He sighed again.

"Just tell me, baby," you urged him gently.

"I'm just waiting for something to happen. Something to go wrong."

His anxiety was talking again, and you were getting better and better and calming his rising panic. You'd been talking him off the ledge a lot lately. Sometimes were easier than others. You weren't sure how this one was going to go.

"Nothing's going to happen, Timothee. We're going to get married and then hopefully have this baby, like, two seconds after," you laughed. It was getting hard to breathe with how the baby was positioned.

He nodded, smiling as he took your face in his hands and kissed your lips tenderly before building up to a deeper, more passionate kiss.

"Let's go to bed," he said against your mouth. "Tonight's the last night I get to have sex with you as y/f/n y/l/n."

The next morning came early. Timothee had physical therapy that morning, so Nicole picked you up to begin getting you ready for your wedding. You couldn't believe it was happening. Your wedding. You were marrying Timothee Chalamet.

Nicole stood behind you as she zipped your dress up. Your hair was done, your make up was perfect and the dress, though heavily modified due to your pregnant belly, fit you like a glove and was somehow not the least bit uncomfortable. You looked beautiful and that was something you never considered yourself. Your eyes glistened a little as tears built up.

"Oh, honey," Nicole said, leading over to grab a few tissues. She handed them to you over your shoulder and you patted your eyes, careful to not smudge your perfect eyeliner.

"I'm sorry your parents couldn't make it here, sweety, but I just want you to know that long before today, I already considered you a daughter."

"Make that both of us" Timothee's dad, Marc, said from behind you. He must've snuck in without you noticing, which wouldn't be hard to do considering how much was on your mind. He looked quite handsome in his tuxedo with light blue accents. "Y/n, I'm not sure if you've given it any thought...and there's no pressure at all of course, but...if you want, I'd love to be the one to walk you down the aisle today."

Tears immediately welled up in your eyes, which prompted Nicole to grab more tissues. This time, she dabbed your eyes for you.

"I'd love that thank you, Mr. Chalamet. Or...should I call you Dad now?" You chuckled but cringed at your awakardness.

But marc offered you a genuine smile and his arm and said, "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

Timothee's POV

I stood at the altar, my hands a sweaty mess. Normally, Y/n wouldn't want a big ceremony, and I knew she was doing it for everyone but her. That's one of the reasons I fell in love her. Her selflessness.

I'm lost in thought as the music begins playing and the groomsmen with the bridesmaids began to walk down the aisle and joined me on stage. Part of me, unfortunately, worried about her not showing, but these thoughts are instantly put at ease when the music changed and my dad brought Y/n out, his arm interlocked with hers.

Everything stopped and there was only her. She looked...beautiful. Pregnancy certainly made her glow like an angle sent straight from heaven, just for me. My eyes began to fill with tears and I didn't even try to keep them from falling. I wiped my eyes with one hand, keeping the other one behind my back, shaking like a leaf. Her dress, which she was so worried about made her look even more angelic. The fabric fell off of her shoulders, exposing my favorite spots to kiss, and draped down her arms. Lace covered the plunging neck line, a modification Y/n added to not show so much skin. A satin tie gathered perfectly around her waist, showing off a perfectly round baby bump. Then it hit me. Both of my girls were here on my wedding day.

And then, we locked eyes and she waved at me. Wiggling her delicate little fingers, in my direction. I couldn't help but chuckle. My dad helped her up the three steps. Words were spoken, but I didn't hear a damn on of them. Y/n hugged my dad before he joined my mother in the front row.

Stephane greeted the guests, speaking eloquently I'm sure, but all I could see, all I could hear, all I could think of was her. The day I'd waited for, since I saw her in that coffee shop so long ago, was here.

It must've been time for vows, because Y/n cleared her throat and said my name. Her eyes were glossy as she spoke.

"Timothee, my love, my world, my everything. We've been through a hell of a lot together, haven't we?" She chuckled and sniffled a little, and I reached out to grab one of her hands, rubbing an encouraging thumb over her fingers. "There have been moments in my life, where I didn't think I had a purpose, a reason. But then you came along, and you gave me two." She placed a hand on her belly, and she gripped mine tighter. "I never thought I'd get married, and I definitely never thought I'd have one these." The guests laughed and so did I. "But I'm so happy, Timothee. I'm so happy that I get to spend forever with the two of you. I love you," she said to me, her voice going a bit higher in pitch as it did when she was about to cry. "And I will never run from that. I promise.

Reader's POV

You breathed a deep sigh of relief as you finished your vows. You decided that you weren't going to write anything down. You were going to speak directly from your heart. You laid it all out for him in a way you hadn't ever before. And Timothee looked at you, happy tears welling up in his still bruised eyes.

Timothee opened his mouth to speak, but smiled instead, as if gathering words to say.

"I'm not as poetic as my beautiful bride here," he started, and you rolled your eyes knowing very well how eloquent he was when he spoke. Still, the small crowd of maybe 100 guests laughed. "So, I had to write mine down." Timothee reached a hand into his pocked, fishing for his vows. He finally pulled out a folded white sheet of paper. It appeared wrinkled and worn, like it was folded and unfolded countless times over numerous days as he worked out his feelings onto paper.

"Y/n," Timothee said, "I-" he cut himself off with a short, shaky breath and a light emotional sob. It was your turn to comfort him, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. He looked up at you and pulled his lips in to form a smile one does to push back a lump forming in their throat. He was trying so hard not to cry.

I love you. You mouthed.

"I love you too," he whispered back. He huffed out a breath and refocused. "I wrote this a week after I met you and-"

Timothee stopped again, cut off by something different this time. He turned his head to someone in the audience, someone that caught his attention. Instantly his face changed. Your smile dropped from your face and your snapped your neck in the direction he was looking in. Your stomach tightened, contracting again at the sight of the man standing in the back of the crowd. He entered quietly, Timothee must have seen him out of his peripheral vision, there was no sound upon his entrance; even the large church doors didn't make a sound. But a man that you knew from long ago stood in the threshold and his presence was just as menacing as you remembered.

"No," you whispered. "No. No. No."

The two of you, seconds ago standing in front of each other, holding hands, exchanging vows, shifted to face the man at the door. His face was twisted in an ominous smirk, making his dark eyes appear evil. His hair, as black as night, was styled as perfectly as it was the day you left him and decided to erase him from your life. But now, here he was and by his looks, he was here to ruin it.

"Y/n," Timothee said, not taking his eyes off of the wedding crasher. "Who is that."

You wish he hadn't have asked that. Because saying his name out loud would acknowledge that fact that somehow, he reentered your life. You spent so long trying to forget him, to repress him from your memory. But of course Timothee would ask. Why wouldn't he? You never spoke about Jacob. Not after what he did.

"His name is Jacob, you said. "And he's my ex-fiancé."

Timothee's grip on your hand tightened to the point of pain and the muscle in his jaw strained as he worked it. "For now," he sighed, as if he knew this would happen. You thought of what he said the night before. I'm just waiting for something to happen. Something to go wrong. And here it was. "We're going to skip over the fact that you've never mentioned this to me and figure out what the fuck is going on."

Jacob looked around the church, an obnoxious fake look of awe plastered to his face. He clapped his hands in mocked amusement and then held them out to both of you as he took slow, but deliberate steps towards the front of the church. "Oh, I hope I'm not too late. Y/n, I missed your invite, but you know I'd find you eventually." Jacob grabbed a wine glass from a woman's hand and downed the entire thing in a single gulp. He looked at Stephane. "Is it too late to object this shit show?"

Stephane stepped forward, an elegant swagger to him even in the most awkward situations. "With all due respect, uhm, sir," he added in disgust, "objections are reserved for legal matters only, emotional reasonings are not valid for objections. So, unless your objection is of legal stature, we won't be stopping the wedding."

Timothee pulled you closer to his body as Jacob pursed his lips in thought. Another fake contraction tightened around your belly, this time building in intensity. This time, a wince was hard to hide. Your hand went to your belly and your breathed out a big puff of air.

"Are you okay," Timothee whispered over his shoulder.

"Yeah. Yeah. Braxton Hicks," you reminded him.

"Oh for the love of God, Y/n. Really? Pregnant at your own wedding? I know you're trash but this," he held out his hands as if showing you to a crowd gathered to see a freakshow at a circus. "This is next level!" Jacob laughed in disbelief.

"Hey, man. Get the fuck out. You weren't invited and this is a private event. You've said what you needed to say. And whatever the hell went on between you two is clearly over. She doesn't want you. And no one wants you here right n ow. Leave. That's the last time I'll ask.

Jacob's lips pulled into a sadistic smirk again, and a sinister laugh vibrated in his throat. The guests looked horrified and a few of them already picked up their bags and walked out.

"Jacob, please. You're ruining my wedding day." Just like he ruined your life.

"Your wedding day?" He laughed out loud. "This was supposed to be OUR wedding day, y/n. Remember all the plans we made? All the things we did together, all the memories we made together? ALL THE LOVE WE MADE?!"

"Stop."

"You can't just throw that away."

"Stop it, Jacob."

"But you did. Didn't you? You threw it all away. You threw us away, y/n. Just like you threw me in prison!"

"BECAUSE YOU KILLED MY FAMILY!" You screamed. The remaining guests gasped, and Timothee's head snapped to you. You didn't tell him this. You didn't tell anyone anything. You couldn't. As soon as Jacob went to prison, you entered the witness protection program. You started over. You weren't sure how Jacob found you. How he was out of prison.

The rest of the guests were leaving the church in hoards at your outburst. Stephane still stood behind Timothee. You saw Larry hiding out in the corner. He'd have you if you needed and if god forbid anything happned to-

Jacob pulled his hand he'd been keeping in his pocket, revealing a heavy black handgun. Anyone left in the church aside from Stephane and Larry had fled. And Jacob began walking causally around the pews, waving the gun around as he talked.

"You know, I've had years to think about how this would all go down. Because I knew you'd change your name. I knew you'd move and hide. And lemme tell ya, you were a tricky one to find," he shook the gun at you as talked, "They did good with you."

Jacob pointed the gun in your direction, and instantly Timothee opened his mouth to speak.

"Ah, Ah," Jacob said, moving his aim to Timothee. Timothee made sure you were behind him, assuring that if Jacob pulled the trigger, it'd be him that he shot. Another shooting pain rippled through your abdomen, this time your knees buckled a little and it took everything in you not to fall to them. You gripped the back of Timothee's tux, but he didn't seem to notice. Stephane placed one hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles and the other hand on Timothee's shoulder.

"If you can't tell," Jacob started back up when he was sure Timothee was done interrupting. "I'm calling this wedding off. She's not marrying you." He emphasized the word 'you' with evident disgust.

"We're already married," Timothee blurted out. If there were still guests in the room, you were sure his declaration would have resulted in more gasps. Jacob stopped walking and lowered his gun. Taking his chance, Timothee started up again. "About a month ago, I was in a pretty bad accident. We decided that as soon as I was out we'd get married. But we couldn't wait. We got married in my hospital room and didn't tell anyone. This ceremony was all for show and formalities. Y/n is already my wife."

Jacob took in what Timothee had to say and for a second you were hopeful. Your stomach tightened again, and you couldn't suppress the groan of pain you let out.

"Y/n," Timothee said.

"I'm fine," you assured him, even though you felt like vomitting. You started to wonder if these were real contractions. "I'm fine," you said again, unaware of who you were trying to convince.

You gathered yourself enough to stand up straight, thought the pressure building between your legs was starting to increase and became more obvious than it had in the last few weeks. Your eyes found Jacob again, standing right in front of the stairs leading up to the stage.

"No matter," he shrugged and pointed the gun. That's when you felt it, like a water balloon from inside of you bursting. Fluid rain down your legs and onto the stage. If Timothee saw it, he didn't make it known.

"Tim," you whispered. "Tim my water broke." It came out like a sob.

Timothee gripped your wrist tight, you already felt bruises forming. He didn't say anything, he only stood his ground in front of you, his body as still as any statue. Stephane took his place at his side, increasing your shield from Jacob.

Jacob let out a laugh that echoed and bounced off of the walls of the empty church. "Oh no, you don't understand, you stupid fucks! I don't want her. Why would I kill the one I want? No. I'm coming after you."

"Ahh, fuck!" You screamed as another contraction rippled through your stomach. It was unlike any pain you'd ever felt, like your insides being twisted and ripped out. Your stomach tightened so intensely you couldn't move. The only relief was that it wasn't constant. You prayed they were far apart enough to finish whatever this was.

"If she won't come with me...I'll make her a widow. She's so pathetic, she'll come crawling right back to me. Now, come on," Jacob said, waving the gun towards himself, motioning Timothee to follow, but Timothee stood still, completely unmoving. It wasn't until Jacob was halfway to the door, that he realized Timothee wasn't following. Jacob stompped back over, clearly annoyed, not stopping until he was directly in front of Timothee, his nose practically touching Tim's.

"You better learn how to follow directions, pretty boy."

"Fuck you," Timothee spat.

"You want me to kill you in front of your widow?"

Timothee didn't answer.

Behind him, you screamed as another contraction reared its ugly head.

"Y/n," Timothee said, slowing turning around with up turned palms, assuring Jacob he wasn't going to run off or do anything slick. "Y/n, listen to me."

"No. No. Nononono. No I can't do this. I can't. Do go. Don't go with him. Please. I need you, Timothee."

"I know. I know my love. Listen. Listen to me."

You made yourself look at him, and regretted it instantly. You'd seen Timothee in a thousand different ways, but you'd never seen him as broken as this.

"You get to the hospital. Okay? You have our baby and when she's here, you tell her how much I love her and you make sure you tell her that for me every day until you grow old and gray. Until you don't have the strength to say it anymore. But please. Please know that for every ounce of love I have for her-" his hand went to your belly, and you sobbed loudly. "Is nothing compared to how fiercely I loved you."

Loved.

"No! No I'm not going. I'm not leaving you, you can't make me Timothee, please."

"LET'S GO!" Jacob screamed.

"Just give me a fuckin minute!" Timothee yelled, tears rolling down his face.

"I love you, y/n. Don't you ever fucking forget that."

Timothee grabbed your face tightly in his hands and kissed you. Normally, you'd love a kiss that deep and passionate. It was one of those kisses that Timothee put his entire heart into. His tongue wrapped around yours. His taste in your mouth. His lips skating gracefully around yours, even with how rushed it was. The soft noise he made while he kissed you that he didn't even realize he was doing but he did because his entire soul was in the kiss. But right now, you hated it. You hated it because he was kissing you like it was his last. And for all you knew, it was.

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