This yours?
[DP x DC fic]
[Love at first... murder? - part 12]
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Part 1
Ao3
---
Somewhere else, in a seemingly abandoned building on the outskirts of the city, a figure shrouded in darkness and wearing a dark cloak plots.
In front of them is a whiteboard. It’s covered in pictures, sticky notes, and illegible texts. Some of the notes thrown about that are legible are ‘fight…’, ‘draw blood.’, and ‘DEATH!!!’.
There’s a crude stick figure drawn in the corner of the board, it’s impaled. Other small doodles can also be found all around the board.
Most of the information and pictures are connected by red strings, like you see in movies.
In the middle is a picture of 2 people sitting on a motorcycle, the arms of the person sitting in the back are around the waist of the person sitting in the front. The picture has some arrows pointing towards it and the people in the picture are very obviously circled.
Though the face of the person driving the motorcycle is obscured by their helmet, the other person seems to be heavily blushing and grinning broadly.
“Yes… yes! That’s it! I know what to do…” They seem to be speaking to themselves.
Quickly, the person scribbles down a barely legible ‘sacrifice!!‘.
They start cackling.
“Mwuahaha!”
It’s an evil laugh they’ve been working on for quite a while now, and they’re pretty proud of it.
However, the effect is slightly ruined when a fly enters their mouth, cutting off their cackling with choking as they gasp for air, grasping at their throat.
A few good thumps against their chest, with some coughing out their lungs, helps them dislodge the fly from their throat and they spit it out on the ground. They take a few deep breaths before straightening up again.
“Curse you” the person exclaims, angrily waving their fist at the fly as it flies away.
---
Bruce’s face gives off nothing as he stares at the streets down below. He’s dressed as Batman, crouched at the edge of a building with Damian by his side as Robin. Spoiler, Black Bat, Nightwing, and Red Robin are further back on the rooftop.
They watch in silence as another group of the Joker’s goons passes by. They’ve been all over the city, wandering around, not doing anything obviously illegal.
They don’t stay in one place and they don’t seem to have much of a purpose. No attacks… No stealing… No smuggling or transport of goods… No, instead they’re inspecting every single inch of the city.
They don’t seem to have any weapons on them. All they’re carrying on them are some flashlights. While most don’t give anything away with their body language or expressions, some seem to give off a bit of anxious energy.
Spoiler claimed she even saw some of them climb down into the sewers earlier and then climbing out again sometime later somewhere else, but this time ‘dejected and stinky’.
One thing seems clear to the Bats.
They’re searching for something… or someone.
“This basically confirms that not even the Joker’s henchmen know where he is. He’s missing.”
“I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing”
“Good… thing?”
“It’s… something. That’s for sure.”
“We don’t know if he’s really missing. For all we know it could be a trap. What if the Joker is hiding, pretending to be missing to have us bring our guard down? Besides, how could he be missing? He’s the Joker. No one’s just gonna kidnap him”
“For all we know he could be lying dead in a ditch somewhere”
“I highly doubt that”
“Everyone, focus” Bruce speaks up, having them draw their attention to him.
“It’s unclear whether the Joker is simply hiding away or missing. Instead of focusing on the why, we need to focus on the where. Missing or not, we need to find him and get him back to Arkham. Oracle, have you managed to find out anything from the footage yet?”
“Nope, still nothing. All the files from the moment he enters Crime Alley are wiped and any attempt at recovering them only brings back corrupted files.”
“We need Red Hood. Where is he?” Bruce asks.
“He still has his phone on silent and he has removed the trackers and cams. We haven’t placed any new ones on him yet”
“Let’s visit him on his turf then. And keep an eye out for anything suspicious in the meantime. Oracle, try recovering the missing files. If that doesn’t work, go back to the breakout footage. Perhaps he left some kind of clues about his plans or whereabouts behind there.” Bruce states.
“Roger that.”
---
Red Hood has his arms by his sides as he gazes down upon the street below from the rooftop of a random apartment building in Crime Alley.
He’s lucky to have avoided the Bats so far. But he doubts his luck will last for long.
Red Hood stiffens as he suddenly feels something clamp down on his arm. As a reflex, his other hand has already drawn his gun.
He slowly raises the arm he felt something clamp down on and looks at it, only to make eye contact with a girl with black hair and blue eyes who has sunk her teeth into his arm and is now hanging off of it.
The teeth are sharp, as the girl seems to have some small fangs. They’ve gone through his jacket and sunken into his skin.
It doesn’t really hurt all that badly though, probably hasn’t even drawn much blood, and that’s one of the only reasons Jason hasn’t flung the kid off of him yet. Another reason is the fact that it’s a kid.
They both stare at each other for several seconds.
As Jason takes her appearance in, he notices that she seems rather familiar. In fact, she looks like a more feminine version of Danny, or if Danny had a twin.
The person hanging off of his arm looks younger than Danny though, probably a teenager around 13 or 14, if he had to make a guess.
Slowly, he puts his gun away and takes out his phone with his other hand, watching the random girl’s eyes follow his movements. He raises it level with her face and snaps a picture, quickly sending it to Danny and ignoring the girl’s curious gaze while she’s still hanging onto his arm by her fucking teeth.
---
Meanwhile, Danny checks his phone to see Red Hood sent him a message. He opens it and is greeted by a picture of Ellie in human form biting down on Red Hood’s arm with the caption ‘this yours???’
---
Taglist:
@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing
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On the MegOP fandom trend of saying "Optimus should apologize to Megatron"
(Speaking specifically for IDW1, though it applies to a lot of MegOP especially ones that do continuity soup with heavy reference to IDW1)
I was talking to a friend in DMs and they mentioned a common headcanon/fanfic trope that I also concurred with, and both of us said it's something that bothers us: a common take in the MegOP fandom goes basically along the lines of "If Optimus had just apologized to Megatron, the war would've ended" (or other variants including "if he'd tried harder to understand Megatron/work in collaboration with him").
And firstly, this is incorrect for a number of reasons:
There were attempts at peace negotiations during the war, but they fell through. So Optimus WAS trying to work with Megatron to the point of participating in formal diplomatic meetings.
Optimus tried multiple times on page to convince Megatron to just stop fighting and work with him for peace (Autocracy, Chaos Theory) that Megatron rejected. Given that these on-page examples take place at the start of the war and at the end of the war respectively, it makes sense that Optimus asking Megatron for collaboration is something he was trying/willing to do the entire time. So again, Optimus was always willing AND ATTEMPTING to work with Megatron and find a joint solution
Even before the war when Optimus was still Orion, he was very explicitly inspired by Megatron's writing and names Megatron as one of the people who "opened his eyes" to the wrongs of Cybertronian society. So how is it that people claim "the war went on for too long because Optimus never tried to understand Megatron" when OP literally named Megatron as one of his biggest idols, thus implying that OP does understand Megatron's ideals
But the primary purpose of this post wasn't to defend Optimus, actually. Even though I personally think Optimus did plenty (dare I say, everything) to try to end the war, there are some who may still think otherwise, so instead of arguing about whether Optimus did "enough", or who should apologize to whom, or who "deserves the blame" for starting/continuing the war, I'd actually rather talk about this:
No matter who is most "to blame" for the war, it's my firm belief that neither Megatron nor Optimus would even expect/demand the other to apologize to them at all.
On Megatron's side, he would never seek to judge Optimus negatively for the decisions to the point of saying "you wronged me, apologize." Whether it's evil Megatron who doesn't care about atrocities and revels in an opportunity to expose Optimus as a hypocrite, or post-war/Autobot Megatron who knows that his own evil actions are irredeemable, the idea of Megatron judging Optimus and demanding an apology for the war specifically strikes me as out-of-character. Why would Megatron demand or even want an apology from Optimus when Megatron knows fully well that he has his own sins to bear, he prolonged the war for his own selfish/material gain, and that he is responsible for an untold amount of suffering? Demanding an apology would imply that Megatron sees himself as the wronged party and Optimus as the wrongdoer, but by the end of the war, Megatron is too aware of his own part in the war to ever demand such a thing of Optimus. Even if he DID think that Optimus was "equally to blame" for the war (which he doesn't/wouldn't, btw), Megatron's own feelings of guilt would prevent him from trying to seek the petty satisfaction of the moral high ground or making Optimus beg for his forgiveness.
Additionally, Megatron knows Optimus very well as a person: he knows that the position of leadership is full of "loneliness [and] agonizing self-doubt" for Optimus (Chaos Theory) and that "when Optimus hurts others, he hurts himself" (MTMTE). Another reason that Megatron wouldn't demand nor want an apology from Optimus is because Megatron knows Optimus so well that he already knows that being a war leader fills Optimus with immense guilt and suffering. Given that Megatron knows about Optimus' self-doubt and guilt, why would he even need an apology when he already knows how much Optimus regrets the war and desperately wishes/wished for it to end?
Then, as established in the previous paragraphs, Optimus is too full of guilt for his part in the war (both before it started and in being unable to stop it sooner) to demand an apology from Megatron. Again, demanding an apology would put Optimus in an implied position of moral superiority and/or victimhood, but Optimus doesn't see himself as morally superior or as a victim (or rather, he sees himself as being responsible for these bad things happening and internalizes this as a duty to do better/fix wrongdoings). In other words, Megatron and Optimus both share this view of themselves and each other: Their hands are so dirty, and they both feel such guilt over this, and they know each other well enough to know that the other feels this way as well. Because both of them feel blame for the war and are acutely aware of their own flaws/part in suffering, both of them feel far too responsible for the war happening for them to ever blame their archnemesis for "not trying harder" or "being responsible for the war."
Hell, if you even look at the socio-political climate of Cybertron before the war started, neither Megatron nor Optimus were the ones who put this conflict into motion. The corrupt legacy of the Primes, Functionism, class issues-- all of these things existed before Megatron and Optimus did. Even once they started doing things like writing about social issues (M) or fighting against the Senate (OP), both of them were "underlings" in sense that they weren't leaders:
Megatron's writings may have inspired the Decepticon movement, but that movement existed as an independent entity with its own leaders and speakers long before Megatron became the "official" ruler of the Decepticons. He wasn't even the leader of the 'Cons until he took control of the gladiator arena and the nonviolent sections of the Decepticons were (presumably) subsumed into the underground, exploitative battle culture that Megatron created.
Optimus-as-Orion was a police officer to start, but even once he started going against the Senate, he mainly worked in collaboration with others like Senator Shockwave and Zeta (later Zeta Prime), who he either saw as his idols or who were literally superior to him in rank due to government/military structures.
So with this in mind, even from a social level, while Megatron and Optimus may have been "catalysts" of a sort that caused the war to escalate to an outright planetary/galactic level, the scenario is too complex to solely lay the blame for the war at either of their feet. I'm not confident in saying that Megatron/Optimus would explicitly think of this when talking to each other, but what I'm trying to say is that M/OP were just catalysts in a long chain of brewing tension that exploded into a war. Even if one could claim that one of them "started" or "escalated" the war, the social issues that caused the war and the positions of power that allowed them to become leaders in the first place were falling into place before either of them actually BECAME leaders.
In other words, this shared fate of being the final reaction that exploded a societal conflict into outright war... Megatron and Optimus both have that in common. And because of this, I really don't think either of them would even think to ask the other to apologize because they're both in such similar positions, with such similar feelings of guilt and responsibility, that they understand each other's feelings without words. To demand an apology would be akin to taking that shared vulnerability/guilt and stepping on it, attempting to claim that one is right/superior and the other is wrong/inferior, and that the inferior one needs to grovel and take responsibility for the bad things that happened.
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Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday
(Picks up where Viper left off)
"You know you've got like a whole bucket of cactus paddles down there?"
Jak sauntered back into the throne room from the hidden door and tossed Damas a sealed bag of roasted crickets.
"I should hope it's a full bucket, considering I picked those this morning."
Damas pulled out one of the cooked insects, plucked off the legs, and popped the rest into his mouth.
"You don't eat the legs?"
Jak draped himself over the edge of the throne to snatch a handful of crickets from the bag.
"They get stuck in my teeth," Damas complained, "I save them for my birds."
Daxter snickered. "Even Pecker?"
"If Pecker doesn't like the food, he's free to fly back to Onin," replied the king with an almost mischievous look.
"Oye, you didn't mess with anything in the kitchens, did you? The head cook is...tetchy."
"She's a miserable old cuss and she threw a knife at me," Jak said indignantly.
"She throws knives at everyone. You're lucky it was only a knife."
Around another mouthful of crickets, Jak made an appalled expression. "What else does she throw?!"
Damas grimaced and rubbed his forehead as if remembering an old injury. "Whatever is closest. Pans. Porridge. Whole onions. Cactus paddles with the spines still on."
Daxter started to come closer, but glanced at the dead snake still decorating the dais and thought better of it. "Hey, Jak doesn't need to go to the kitchens to experience that! All he has to do is get distracted while on the Leaper again and he'll have a mouth full of prickly-pear!"
"That wasn't my fault!" Jak protested hotly.
Damas raised a brow. "Oh? I hadn't heard about this one."
Hoping to avoid retelling the story, Jak quickly changed the subject.
"Wait, can you actually eat cactus?" he demanded.
He moved to sit cross-legged directly in front of the throne, and began examining the viper's mouth to get an idea of how to harvest the fangs later. Absentmindedly, he reached a hand back behind him, and was too deep in focus mode to register that this wasn't Daxter or Keira he was non-verbally bumming snacks off of. Nonetheless, Damas made a goodnatured scoff and placed several more crickets in his hand.
"You can eat specific kinds of cactus," Damas clarified. By the emphasis he placed on "specific", it was fairly obvious he was anticipating Jak trying to eat random cacti in town.
"Only the ones with the paddles like you saw, understand?"
"Sure, sure." Jak brushed this off. "But what do you make with them, though?"
Damas inspected the bag of crickets and sealed it back up to ensure that they would have some snacks during the coming meetings. "You use them for just about anything you need a vegetable for, honestly. I tend to grill them with lemon. Some people boil them for salads. Sig's mother is known in the East Quarter for frying it in batter and selling it in little cups."
"Ooh! We still haven't met Sig's ma!" Daxter chirped. He grinned wickedly. "We should ask her about Sig's embarrassing baby stories."
"She has no shortage of them," Damas agreed.
Daxter glanced back at Jak, happily munching crickets, and shuddered.
"On a scale of one to "Jak eats things raw if he can't figure out how to cook them", how hard is it to cook?"
Jak looked insulted. Damas snorted.
"After the afternoon appointments, I'll teach you one of the simpler methods. You won't need much- Jak, don't touch the fangs. We still need the evidence intact."
"I was just looking!" Jak defended.
"With your hands?"
With a gusty sigh, the teenager scooted back to the right of Damas’s seat. He looked a little cross, but it faded soon enough.
"What appointments do you have, anyway?"
Damas stood up to stretch. Precursors knew he wouldn't get a chance in the next few hours.
"Third bell after noon through fifth bell is reserved for Arbitration Court," he said. "Which is why I do not usually call you during those hours. My job as king is to uphold the safety of my people, ensure the continued functioning of the Beacon and the water filtration system, mediate disputes not serious enough for the Arena, and enforce laws agreed upon by myself and my council."
Jak made a face. "That sounds like a lot of being stuck inside."
Dryly, Damas asked, "Why do you think I planted an entire grove of date palms in here? I would have died of boredom years ago if I did not."
He turned to fix both boys with a stern look.
"Out of respect for your fellow Spargans, try not to fidget during Arbitration Court unless you notice something suspicious. After five is a monthly meeting with the northern clifftop farmers to discuss rent payments."
"You rent farmland?"
"They rent from me," corrected Damas. "I didn't clear boulders until my hands bled just to abandon my land when I became king."
Jak blinked. "Fair enough. Man, we should've charged Sandover rent, Dax."
"Pal, they thought we owed them compensation for being allowed to sleep on their porches and eat a bare minimum of their food," Daxter pointed out sourly.
He caught a troubled frown on Damas’s face after the statement.
"Hm. I would like your attention to be on the visitors most during the rent meeting and the council meeting after evening meal. If anyone has a problem with me, specifically, that's likely where they'll turn up."
Jak eyed the snake again. "And if they blow their cover, I get to take 'em out, right?"
"No." Damas narrowed his eyes and pointed at Jak as he sat down again. "I need to determine how far the plot goes. No killing the assassin or accomplices."
"What about after?" Jak pressed.
"I'm the aggrieved party, I'm the one who deals with them," Damas said in mild reproof.
Jak folded his arms. "I dunno, we're feeling pretty aggrieved, right Daxter?"
"Positively outraged," Daxter added, sounding more bored than offended. "More Jak than me, but he's the sensitive type. You know him."
"Yes," Damas said, shaking his head with a small smile, "Yes I do. The answer is still "no", Jak."
Jak huffed and settled more comfortably against the throne. "You never let me do anything fun," he joked.
"I don't, I really don't." Damas reached over to prod the back of Jak's head affectionately.
"I'm a horrible, mean, adult who only lets you risk life and limb four days out of the week instead of every three hours."
"The folks in Haven would think that was the worst kind of tyranny, not being able to make us do all their work for them," Daxter scoffed.
The lift began to rattle, and Damas cleared his throat.
"Well, back to work. Eyes open, my boys. Let us see if we can't catch a would-be assassin. Jak, don't touch the fangs."
"I wasn't!" Jak protested.
Neither of his companions looked convinced.
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