Discover Top Posts Tagged with #and cheering

loved the movie!!! the audience wasn't really dancey though

#at least they were clapping #and cheering

DC: rott dosnt smell good on bats

This will hurt. I love angst and body horror! Have fun!

This wasnt suppouse to happen.

It was a childish thought. Thinking everything would work out, that death dosnt loom like a boot over the earth.

Still Flash knows it shouldn't have happend like this.

"Hey uh-" Fuck. His leg. Shit okay, breath. "Batman your.. your concuisos right?" Batman would know what to do in this situation. Trapped under a fallen building with a war Flash isn't optimistic about wagering around them.

But Batman didn't grunt. Didn't 'hn'. Didn't even shift the rocks that coverd that stupid dramatic cape of his. He just sat still. So very still, and Flashes fingers drummed against the earth at a pace that hurt.

"Batman?" Mabye he needed to try a nickname. Something to really piss the man off. That's gotta work, it has too. Flash shifts haveing to stifle a yelp at his- okay fuck don't look at your legs holy shit. "Spooky?" Someone else would be so much better at this. Superman or Wonder Woman or anyone that new Batman past being a crytic shit that only liked black coffee and could calm a baby in exactly three minutes.

"You know you usesly quite but uh-" Flash knew he was dead. Mabye though he could pretend that fucking Batman didn't die from fallen rubble. Mabye he could pretend that Batman would get them out, like every other time any of the league got themselves a pickel. "I'd um." His mouth felt dry and- mabye he wasn't dead!

Stupidly and painfuly Flash drags himself over to Batman. By the time he's near his co-worker (freind? Corsep?) Flash don't even try to stop the tears. It hurts. Everything hurts and he wants it to stop hurting.

Batman still looks like a broody asshole. Block cowel, stupid little ears, black white soulless eyes and a mouth that hung open. He was cold. Flash knows he's stupid. He knows Batman probably though he was dumb and childish but before this he was a CSI. Before this he was smart. Called smart, dished compilemtns and he's not dumb. He's not.

He knows a corpse when he sees one. And no matter how- personal it felt to check Bats pulse their wasn't one.

"Fuck." Flash laughs. It's not funny. It's not. Yet the laughs push past his chest and cling at the dusty air and weep. "Fuck, we, God shit-" He didn't even know who Batman was out the mask. He didn't know a family fo call, or if he even had any to greaive him.

"Really um.. really good training exercises Spooks.." Flash didn't want to talk anymore. Didn't want to stare at the broken jaw of his freind. Didn't want to know he was doomed. Because if this 'low risk' battle killed fucking Batman? Their dead. It's pointless.

This isn't how Batman would want him to be thinking. But what's the point? This stupid battle they were supouse to handle with a few quick punches was a war. A war that they stepped unknowingly into, with the most paranoided prepared man dead, their fucked! Even if he gets out theirs no point!

Rubble shifts but Flash dosnt look up. He dosnt want to be the one to break the news. Local tower cryptic dead becuses squish. It drawls a laughs from him. How stupid.

More shifting and the harrowing choked breaths of something gasping for air. It's Hal, probably. He was never in the best shape for labored work. Atleast not without help from his ring.

Analog breathing: is what Flash thinks it's called. Þhe last gasping breaths of something dieing. Heart still beating, pumping forcing the body to live. The last despret will to just not die.

Wait.

A hands on his knee. Warm hand. Very warm, infact it feels like a small fire, and the breathing still feels the dusty concave he's trapped in and holy shit-

Batmans bent over, gasping for breath with a hand on Barts knee.

"Bats?-" And Wally has to stop himself from emptying his stoumch on the other.

Because a neck isn't supposed to look like that. Twisted and bend and wrong in every manner, every manner that something dead is wrong. Jaw still hung open, blood pouring from his nose and dripping down his mouth. Like a fucked up reverse vampire.

"Batman?" He almost hopes it isn't Batman.

But it is. The same white eyes, the same overly pounced jaw (Snapped at a angle that would kill the victim. Nearly hanging off his face and Bart can hear the softing clicking as it fixes that.) A 'hn' gurgle past the blood drooling down his chin and nose like a facuccent.

The sounds makes his Adam apple Bob and Flash has to swollow abided at the broken neck that bends with the tilt of the Bats head.

"Glad your uh, glad your okay?"

Batman grunts again. A nodd.

No one was going to fucking believe him.