#ccfwp

[outlawintheredhood]

You have set free a curse upon this world | Self-para

There was nothing left for him. Everything he thought he could have, the hope he had for a future, a family... it was gone.

He didn’t know how long he had been curled on the floor, tears staining the hardwood floor beneath him before he heard soft, familiar footsteps. He had come to know them well, like a dog might know the scent and sound of his owner. Talia seemed to have prided herself on it, that even fresh from the Pit, wild and feral, she had been the only one he recognised, that he didn’t attack outright.

“He replaced me.” Jason croaked, voice hoarse and dry as he finally unfurled his body, turning to look up at her. “All this time... I died and he just-” He broke off with a frustrated cry, screaming until his throat failed him completely, a broken and hollow sound the only thing he could manage.

Talia knelt next to him, gathering up his shattered form and holding it tight until the shaking stopped from the dry sobs racking through him.

“He abandoned you, as he did me.” She whispered in his hear, before shushing him as if trying to soothe away the awful truth of it all. He had been forgotten, replaced like he had been nothing more than another of Bruce’s tools that had been broken. And the Joker...

You remain unavenged. The only words Talia had given him when she made him flee from Nanda Parbat, from her father, without her. He had come back wrong, twisted, a failed attempt in testing just how much the Pit could heal. If it were not for Talia he would be dead. Or still mad and feral.

If it were not for Talia, he would have not a single soul left who cared about him.

“Help me.” He muttered, pushing himself up and wrestling out of her hold - or rather, he struggled weakly and she let him go.

Talia looked at him with a small frown, but if it was from confusion, disapproval, disappointment, he could not say. “He abandoned us.” He insisted, repeating what she had told him. “He... forgot us. I want... I want to remind him.” He forced out, his chest still heaving roughly from the force of his sobs earlier. “I won’t let him just pretend I didn’t die. That he didn’t kill me.” He spat, his eyes almost pleading with her. “Help me.”

Silence hung heavy between them, stretching on until Talia stood. She looked down at him, extending her hand as a small smile tugged at her lips.

[outlawintheredhood]

The Boy Wonder | Self-para

“What is it?”

“I’m afraid I have no earthly idea, Master Jason.”

He scoffed at that. As much as Alfred liked to pride himself on appearances, and keeping himself proper and subdued, Jason didn’t miss the small tick of a smile. He was good at reading people. Had to be, before Bruce took him in.

“Yeah right. C’mon, let me have a peak.” Jason whined, pouting in the way that always used to get him a cookie before dinner time or an extra half hour before Alfred really had to insist he go to bed.

But the old butler was much more spry than he looked, ducking easily in front of the box and acting as a barrier between Jason and it. “Master Bruce was very insistent it not be opened until he was present.” He stated, raising his chin as if to say that would be the end of it.

Jason sulked, folding his arms over his chest and kicking at the stone of the Batcave under his feet. “Egotistical jerk. ‘I have a gift for you’ he says. Doesn’t let me open it until he can get the praise for it.” He huffed, though there was no real vitriol in his words. “It better be worth it.”

That little tick of a smile again, twitching just a little under his grey moustache. “I can assure you sir, Master Bruce rarely disappoints in such things.”

---

“Finally!” An exasperated groan flew from Jason as his guardian entered Wayne Manor, shedding the crisp bow-tie that had been worn to whatever stiff event he had attended that night. The clean, pressed suit Bruce wore hid well what Jason knew the man was capable of. Though, now that he knew, it seemed almost ridiculous more people didn’t know what Bruce Wayne really did with his nights.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Bruce replied cooly, slipping off the suit jacket that Alfred waited dutifully to take before heading to the entrance for the Batcave, an eager Jason hot on his heels.

“Shit, yeah!” He replied in earnest, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans to try and hide his anticipation. He still hated people trying to give him charity, but it had been an awkward few months settling into the Manor, and Bruce had been... distant. He hadn’t really known why until Dick Grayson stopped by one day and the air in the Manor had turned as thick as fog. Whatever history was there, Jason knew now he had been thrown right in the middle of it all and muddied it even further.

“Language.” Bruce and Alfred admonished in unison, though Alfred did crack a small smile as they went down into the cave.

Bruce swept round the table where the mysterious box had sat enticingly for a good few hours in which Jason had been restless beyond even Alfred’s ability to handle. “I believe it’s your birthday.” He stated, his tone giving nothing away, though Jason shifted uncomfortably at it.

“Nothin’ special.” He muttered. His mom hadn’t been able to afford much to give him when he was younger and when she was gone... there wasn’t much left to celebrate.

Bruce rose an eyebrow at that, shaking his head as if in disagreement as he lifted the lid off the box, revealing its contents. Jason sucked in a surprised breath, standing stiff as he tried to process how he was supposed to react.

He could have sworn worry started to settle on Bruce’s always collected features. “You’re... not pleased?” He questioned, once again refusing to give anything away.

“Are you kidding me?” Jason finally responded, stepping forward and reaching out a hand to run over red fabric, tracing a thumb over the bold yellow ‘R’ emblazoned on the breast. “This is...” He lifted it out, the suit dropping to its full glory and the cape unfurling at the back. “This is AWESOME!” A grin stretched across his face, bright and excited as he threw the suit over his shoulder before picking up the rest of the accessories - boots, gloves and, of course, the mask.

He didn’t even take notice as Bruce’s shoulders sagged in relief, or how Alfred’s eyes watered ever so slightly. He was too busy caught up in the vibrant scarlet and yellow of the Robin suit, slipping the eye mask over his face.

It was a perfect fit.

[abercrombiearcher]

Growing Pains (Flashback) | Roy + Oliver

Another day of slapping uselessly at water. The Hood - or Arrow, whatever the news was calling him now - had left him to his own devices, having to handle some ‘mission’ or other, leaving Roy to do nothing else but complete his exercises in the abandoned warehouse. He still was unable to see the point - the repetitiveness of the task wasn’t helping with any of the side effects of what had been put in him. His frustration only mounted with each time he had to do it.

He pushed himself up with a sigh. He couldn’t even feel the wound in his leg anymore, not since the moment he was injected. It had felt like his whole leg was on fire right after he was shot, now though, that feeling was in his entire body, screaming to be let out. He paced, kicking the bowl over out of frustration but it wasn’t enough. He turned to one of the punching bags the man left up, drawing back his fist and watching in satisfaction as he punched straight through it. The rush was short-lived, however, and he frowned as he felt eyes on him. “You’re back? Took you long enough.”

@themanbeneaththehood

[ccpdspivot-blog]

three years ago || spawne

Patty had just recently gotten up. After making an early breakfast, she went busy studying. It was her senior year in college, and she could taste the finish line, but she was still motivated. She wanted to become a CSI ever since she could remember, and she was going to reach her goal. She was startled when she heard a knock on the door-- she wasn’t expecting anybody. She quickly moved to the door, answering it to see a young uniformed man in front of her. “Can I help you?” she inquired slowly, wondering what was happening.

@deteddiethawne

[outlawintheredhood]

Homecoming (Flashback) | Jason + Jade

Jason had come to terms with the thought that when he left Gotham two years ago he would never return to it. He had failed the mission he set for himself. The vengeance he had wanted Bruce to reap on his behalf, he had failed to take himself. The Joker still lived, the Batman still stalked the streets and rooftops of the city, with a new Robin at his side. It hurt enough the first time, to be replaced by Tim Drake, but to find Bruce with yet another protégé, one who even shared his blood, that had hurt even more. Bruce finally had the son he had tried so hard to see in Dick and Jason.

He snapped out of his thoughts, leaning back from the railing of the rooftop and turning at the softest sound of footfalls that an untrained ear would never have detected. “Finally.” He sighed, picking up his helmet from where he had placed it down and hooking it under his arm. “Cheshire.” He nodded, plastering on his usual smirk. “Long time no see.”

@jadexnguyen

[themanbeneaththehood]

The Sun Won't Rise || Self

The city fell quiet beneath his feet; it almost felt like a brand new day. A day that had yet broken dusk with the ambiance reborn; settling droplets of dew that left a sleek sheen against the dull heaps of concrete and glass filled him with a alarming sense of dread. Chaos engulfed in flame, the hot rolling embers still sending flecks off along the horizon. The shrill screams finally stopped, be it from exhaustion or loneliness. He watched his city burn eternally in his failures in a heap of barbs and glass. The Glades were gone, fleeting with the aftershock, breaking down the shanty foundation those lives were built upon. His best friend now remained beneath the chaos as the search began for the members of their community who’d been lost to the rumble. Oliver stared into the abyss, his hands bloodied just faintly from last moments of his life as he knew it. His fingertips seared with the burn of Tommy’s cooled skin against it, his last failed attempt to do any good in this world. No good deed went unpunished and no one was safe from the sweeping regret that settled above them. His bow clattered to the ground, the string snapped and fringed at the end that hung haphazardly to the side. His line was silent, the chattered voices now a distant memory once the devices dropped down the first few stories.

All alone with you thought, doesn’t that seem familiar… The chiding voice nipped at him, driving in the reality of his failure and the costs. Malcolm Merlyn plummeted out of his grasp and barreled into his future, a fate that should be shared with the emerald archer. The vigilante. Oliver watched the world turn on without him, avoiding the accepting part of it all. Once the cuts clotted and the hood fell from his face, he knew the last shimmer of hope that had been bedded in the chummy wit of his best friend would end. His hands stained grimly in Crimson with the hint of green. Never had he felt they’d been so in sync without some ironic clashing. This was his future, suffering and toil sealed in blood. Everything he touched died, everyone he loved perished with the ever burning sun.

Oliver Queen– you have failed this city.