lfthinkerwrites

[lfthinkerwrites]

Aftershock

Title: Downfall

Chapter Title: Aftershock

Fandom: Batman

Rating: M

Chapter summary:

Edward's loved ones try to come to terms with all that's happened, and fault lines begin to form.

AO3 Link

preview

Batgirl squeezed her shoulder. "You don't ever have to thank me for that." Her hand lingered on Ellen's shoulder as she seemed to debate something internally. "You don't have to call me Batgirl, either, if it's just the two of us. You can call me Stephanie."

A thrill went down Ellen's spine. Was this an alias, or had Batgirl just told her her real name? It didn't matter either way, she decided. Batgirl trusted her. Batgirl cared about her. "Stephanie," she said. That wasn't the name she'd imagined, but it fit. "You look like a Stephanie."

Batgirl, no, Stephanie laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment!" She pulled her hand back and gestured to the helmet Ellen was still holding. "Let's get going." 

[lfthinkerwrites]

Fanfic/Author Ask Game

Write a scene from [insert fic] in another character’s POV

Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

What are your top three most commonly used tags on AO3?

What are some words or phrases you feel like you overuse?

What’s something you learned while researching a fic?

Would you ever accept requests or commissions?

Coffee or tea while you write?

What is your favorite line/section from [insert fic]?

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Is there a character or ship you'd love to write for, but haven't yet?

What makes a fic 'successful' in your opinion?

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Do you have an 'official' creative writing background such as a degree or previous experience publishing?

What makes you happiest? New fic comments, kudos, bookmarks, user subscribers, story subscribers, or Tumblr asks?

Does anyone you know in real life know you write fanfiction?

What do you struggle with most when writing?

What is something you recently felt proud of in your writing?

How many WIPs do you have and how many do you expect to finish?

How do you get over writer's block?

Share your favorite kiss scene from [insert fic]. If there's no kiss scene, share your favorite moment of intimacy (romantic or platonic)

What stops you from writing more in your free time?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Which scene/theme was the inspiration for [insert fic]?

Are there any moments in [insert fic] that feel "blurry" to you? Is this a stylistic choice, or would you go back and clarify the descriptions if you were given the chance?

Do you ever "prep" your fics with outlines or warmups before you start writing, or do you just dive right in?

Are any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Have you noticed your style change over time?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

A character you enjoy making suffer.

A character you want to protect.

What is your favorite fic to get comments/messages on?

Wild Card: Ask me something else!

[lfthinkerwrites]

I wish that I had infinite time and energy where my writing was concerned, because Holy Hell, if there’s a character who defines missed potential and is giving me all sorts of story ideas, it’s Owen Mercer. And I can’t touch those ideas just yet, because most of them give away the ending to PI Verse. :/

[lfthinkerwrites]

In which there's a trip to the museum, and a run-in with an old 'friend'.

[lfthinkerwrites]

Write me something you know I'll love 😉 xx

Since we were just talking about this, lol. Hope you enjoy!

The morning peace of Edward Nigma’s apartment was broken by the man’s annoyed voice shouting “Digger Harkness!”

The target of his ire, one George ‘Digger’ Harkness, finished his gulp of black coffee. "Ed," he whined. "Whatever it is, it's too early in the bloody morning!"

"Too early!? It's 10 am you savage! Now get over here!"

Digger rolled his eyes, got up from the kitchen table and stomped over towards the bathroom. "Alroight yer bloody highness," he shouted at the closed door. "What are you chucking a wobbly about this time!?"

The door burst open, almost smacking into Digger and Edward stepped out, clad in only his white undershirt and pair of green boxer shorts. He glared at Digger, and the Aussie might have thought it was hot if it weren't for the next words that came out of the man's mouth: "I just used up the last of my cortisone!"

Digger arched an eyebrow. "How's that my problem?"

Edward jabbed him in the chest. "It's your problem, Digger, because you gave me a rash on my inner thighs!"

"I wot now!?" Digger almost jumped a foot in the air. "Crikey! I'm clean Ed, I swear! I ain't touched anyone else fer over a year!"

"What?" Edward pulled a face. "Oh for the love of-no, not that kind of rash!" He gestured at the bushy red sideburns on Digger's face. "It's those!"

Digger brought his hands up to his face. "My sideburns? How'd they give you a rash?"

Edward sighed and pinched his brow. "It's a simple matter of friction, Digger. When you're...down there giving me oral pleasure-"

"Crikey, why can't you just say 'sucking my dick' like a normal Yank?"

"Don't interrupt me! You rub your face all over my thighs and your facial hair gives me a rash!"

Digger just shrugged. "Well, what do you want me to do about it? Do you not want me ta give you gobbies anymore?"

Edward paled. "I never said that! No, what I'd like for you to do is trim your sideburns!"

It was as if all the color went out of the world. "Trim me sideburns?" Digger repeated. Then he covered them with his hands. "Nevah! I've had these since I could grow hair! I wouldn't shave 'em if me own Mum asked me to!"

"First of all, I didn't ask you to shave them, I asked you to trim them. There's a difference. Second, I don't think it's too much to ask that my boyfriend does his best to ensure I'm comfortable during and after our sexual activities!"

"Oh yeh? I didn't hear ya complainin' last night!" He then proceeded to do possibly the worst impression of Edward's voice ever attempted: "'Oh Digs, don't stop, roight there, roight there-'"

"I don't sound like that!" Edward snapped. "How would you like it if I grew ridiculous sideburns and did the same to you!?"

Digger considered this a moment. "You offerin'?" he asked.

Edward rolled his eyes. "You are unbelievable."

"Cheers, love."

"That wasn't a compliment!"

Two months later, Digger Harkness returned to Edward Nigma's apartment. He would have visited sooner, if not for the six-week deployment with Task Force X. Stupid fuckin' parole requirement. "Ed!" he shouted, closing the door behind him. "I'm here!"

"I'm in the bedroom," Edward called out. "Ready and waiting Captain."

Digger's grin threatened to split his face. He kicked his boots off, tore off his coat, bandolier, and shirt, threw them on the floor, and dashed towards the bedroom, ready to pounce on his boyfriend.

Edward was indeed waiting for him, lying on his back, dressed in only his underwear and a half-unbuttoned dress shirt, just how Digger liked...but there was something different about him. Something the Aussie picked up as soon as he saw him. "Ed love," he asked. "Wot the Hell are those?"

Edward gestured to his face, and the long red sideburns that adorned it. "Oh, these?" he asked. "Do you like them?"

Digger cocked his head. Truth be told, he kind of liked the fact that Edward was a little prissy about his appearance. That and the extra hair made him look a bit like a..."Ya kind of look like a chimpanzee, mate."

Edward abruptly sat up. "A chimpanzee!?" he demanded. "Is that what you have to say to me?"

Digger shrugged. "It's the ears. The hair makes them stick out a bit more."

Edward scowled. "George," he warned. "Do you want to have sex with me or not?"

"They look great mate!" Digger said, falling in line immediately. "Really, they do?"

Edward rolled his eyes, but beckoned him down with a crook of his finger. Digger pounced on him in an instant, claiming him with a rough kiss and groping every part of his body he could. "Chimpanzee indeed," Edward muttered as Digger attacked his neck. "You should talk. I've never been with anyone with half as much body hair as you."

"Thought ya loiked it," Digger said, pausing mid-bite.

"I didn't say I didn't," Edward teased. Digger began pulling Edward's boxer shorts down, only for Edward to flip them so he was on top. "At ease, Captain." He licked his bottom lip and gave the Aussie an evil grin. "Let's see how much you enjoy beard rash."

Digger grinned back, folding his hands behind his head. "Love, long as I get that gobby, you can do whatever ya want with me. Do yer bloody worst."

[lfthinkerwrites]

I did the 'spin the wheel' thing and got enigma and harley 👀

Oh. Snap.

There's a third figure with Batgirl and Black Bat as they make their way into Red's hideout. Red wrinkles her nose at the new vigilante. "And who is this?"

Harley knows who she is instantly. She doesn't recognize the costume, a weird homemade mix of black pants and body armor with a purple cape and hood, but the crude purple question mark stitched on the girl's chest was a dead giveaway. So were the green eyes glaring at her from behind a purple mask. It's the girl from Eddie's phone. Eddie's daughter.

Harley involuntarily takes a step forward. Black Bat instantly steps in front of the girl, shooting Harley a silent warning glare. Don't come any closer. "Easy Elvira," Harley says, raising her hands. “I ain’t gonna hurt her.”

“You already did,” Batgirl hisses, also stepping forward. “You have no right to talk to her. Not after what you did to her father.”

Harley gulps, then looks down at her feet. "I know," she forces herself to say. "I know."

"Why?"

Harley looks up sharply. The voice didn't come from either Black Bat or Batgirl. It came from the girl standing behind them, the girl who was now trying to go through them. Black Bat turns to shake her head, but Eddie's little girl meets her gaze. A moment passes, the two seeming to communicate without words. Black Bat finally steps aside, letting the girl walk forward. She seems to have every bit of Eddie's confidence as she walks towards Harley, stopping only inches from her.

"Why?" she asks again.

Harley's thought a lot about what she'd say to Eddie's little girl if they ever met. How she'd explain herself. And yet, the only words that she can think to say are "I didn't know-"

Fire flashes behind the girl's eyes. "I'm not talking about my Dad. I'm talking about Doc." Harley's mouth goes even drier. "Why?" the girl demands. Her eyes, Eddie's eyes remain fixed on her face, fearless and angry.

Harley drops her gaze. "I don't know," she admits in a voice barely above a whisper.

[lfthinkerwrites]

Write me something you know I'll love 😉 xx

Since we were just talking about this, lol. Hope you enjoy!

The morning peace of Edward Nigma’s apartment was broken by the man’s annoyed voice shouting “Digger Harkness!”

The target of his ire, one George ‘Digger’ Harkness, finished his gulp of black coffee. "Ed," he whined. "Whatever it is, it's too early in the bloody morning!"

"Too early!? It's 10 am you savage! Now get over here!"

Digger rolled his eyes, got up from the kitchen table and stomped over towards the bathroom. "Alroight yer bloody highness," he shouted at the closed door. "What are you chucking a wobbly about this time!?"

The door burst open, almost smacking into Digger and Edward stepped out, clad in only his white undershirt and pair of green boxer shorts. He glared at Digger, and the Aussie might have thought it was hot if it weren't for the next words that came out of the man's mouth: "I just used up the last of my cortisone!"

Digger arched an eyebrow. "How's that my problem?"

Edward jabbed him in the chest. "It's your problem, Digger, because you gave me a rash on my inner thighs!"

"I wot now!?" Digger almost jumped a foot in the air. "Crikey! I'm clean Ed, I swear! I ain't touched anyone else fer over a year!"

"What?" Edward pulled a face. "Oh for the love of-no, not that kind of rash!" He gestured at the bushy red sideburns on Digger's face. "It's those!"

Digger brought his hands up to his face. "My sideburns? How'd they give you a rash?"

Edward sighed and pinched his brow. "It's a simple matter of friction, Digger. When you're...down there giving me oral pleasure-"

"Crikey, why can't you just say 'sucking my dick' like a normal Yank?"

"Don't interrupt me! You rub your face all over my thighs and your facial hair gives me a rash!"

Digger just shrugged. "Well, what do you want me to do about it? Do you not want me ta give you gobbies anymore?"

Edward paled. "I never said that! No, what I'd like for you to do is trim your sideburns!"

It was as if all the color went out of the world. "Trim me sideburns?" Digger repeated. Then he covered them with his hands. "Nevah! I've had these since I could grow hair! I wouldn't shave 'em if me own Mum asked me to!"

"First of all, I didn't ask you to shave them, I asked you to trim them. There's a difference. Second, I don't think it's too much to ask that my boyfriend does his best to ensure I'm comfortable during and after our sexual activities!"

"Oh yeh? I didn't hear ya complainin' last night!" He then proceeded to do possibly the worst impression of Edward's voice ever attempted: "'Oh Digs, don't stop, roight there, roight there-'"

"I don't sound like that!" Edward snapped. "How would you like it if I grew ridiculous sideburns and did the same to you!?"

Digger considered this a moment. "You offerin'?" he asked.

Edward rolled his eyes. "You are unbelievable."

"Cheers, love."

"That wasn't a compliment!"

Two months later, Digger Harkness returned to Edward Nigma's apartment. He would have visited sooner, if not for the six-week deployment with Task Force X. Stupid fuckin' parole requirement. "Ed!" he shouted, closing the door behind him. "I'm here!"

"I'm in the bedroom," Edward called out. "Ready and waiting Captain."

Digger's grin threatened to split his face. He kicked his boots off, tore off his coat, bandolier, and shirt, threw them on the floor, and dashed towards the bedroom, ready to pounce on his boyfriend.

Edward was indeed waiting for him, lying on his back, dressed in only his underwear and a half-unbuttoned dress shirt, just how Digger liked...but there was something different about him. Something the Aussie picked up as soon as he saw him. "Ed love," he asked. "Wot the Hell are those?"

Edward gestured to his face, and the long red sideburns that adorned it. "Oh, these?" he asked. "Do you like them?"

Digger cocked his head. Truth be told, he kind of liked the fact that Edward was a little prissy about his appearance. That and the extra hair made him look a bit like a..."Ya kind of look like a chimpanzee, mate."

Edward abruptly sat up. "A chimpanzee!?" he demanded. "Is that what you have to say to me?"

Digger shrugged. "It's the ears. The hair makes them stick out a bit more."

Edward scowled. "George," he warned. "Do you want to have sex with me or not?"

"They look great mate!" Digger said, falling in line immediately. "Really, they do?"

Edward rolled his eyes, but beckoned him down with a crook of his finger. Digger pounced on him in an instant, claiming him with a rough kiss and groping every part of his body he could. "Chimpanzee indeed," Edward muttered as Digger attacked his neck. "You should talk. I've never been with anyone with half as much body hair as you."

"Thought ya loiked it," Digger said, pausing mid-bite.

"I didn't say I didn't," Edward teased. Digger began pulling Edward's boxer shorts down, only for Edward to flip them so he was on top. "At ease, Captain." He licked his bottom lip and gave the Aussie an evil grin. "Let's see how much you enjoy beard rash."

Digger grinned back, folding his hands behind his head. "Love, long as I get that gobby, you can do whatever ya want with me. Do yer bloody worst."

[lfthinkerwrites]

Here’s something fun I thought I’d try: spin the wheel twice and I’ll write a small something about the characters you picked.

[lfthinkerwrites]

Stalemate

Title: Downfall

Chapter Title: Stalemate

Fandom: Batman

Rating: M

Chapter summary:

After the events of the past two days, Bruce and Strange find themselves at a stalemate.

AO3 Link

preview

Hood nodded. "Good. That's good." He then placed his large hands on Ellen's shoulders. "Kiddo, we need to talk about your training."

"My training?" Ellen repeated. "What about it?"

"We need to get you into high gear," he said. He stared down at her through that red helmet. "Before we go any further Kiddo, you need to ask yourself just what you're willing to do to protect yourself."

[lfthinkerwrites]

Okay, for the wheel I got Enigma and Oswald Cobblepot

(Another bit with Ellen and one of her Rogue 'uncles'. Too bad no one spun her and Digger, that would be a shitshow and a half)

The maître d' stared down at Ellen from behind his podium like she was the dirt beneath his shoes. "Young lady," he said snootily. "I'm afraid that minors are not allowed in the Iceberg Lounge without an adult present."

"I'm not a minor," she said, and the man's nose wrinkled even further when he heard her West Side affect. "I'm eighteen. Mr. Cobblepot's expecting me."

"Oh, really?" the maître d' asked. "Alright, I'll play along: what is your name?"

"Ellen Dixon." She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one from the interior of the restaurant could hear her before she leaned in closer. "Enigma."

As expected, the maître d''s face paled. "I'm sorry, did you say 'Enigma'?"

Ellen smirked. "I did. Sorry I'm not in costume right now, but Dad said I should try to dress as formally as possible." The teal dress suit Dad had gotten her for prom all those years ago may not have been what he had in mind, but considering his own fashion choices he hadn't said anything when she left the house. "So," Ellen continued. "Mr. Cobblepot?"

"Of course," the maître d' said. "Please, miss, follow me." Ellen could have fun toying with this pompous prick some more, but she did have a meeting to get to. She followed him into the interior of the Iceberg Lounge.

It looked like the renovations were going well. The large crystal chandelier had been replaced, filling the restaurant with a soft glow. There wasn't as big of a crowd, but then again, it was a Tuesday night, and the Bowery hadn't fully recovered from the events of the past two years. There were still enough glittering members of high society here to make her feel out of place. Maybe her father felt at ease hobnobbing with the rich fucks, but Ellen was born in the lower West Side, and she wasn't ashamed of that. These were not her people. Not the people she'd been born into. Not the people she'd chosen to protect.

Doesn't matter, she could hear Black Bat scold. You protect everyone. Well, you try explaining class dynamics to someone who once literally lived with wolves.

Cobblepot was sitting at what she guessed was his usual table, directly under the chandelier. He greeted her with an indulgent smile. "Thank you, Marco. You may leave us."

"Actually, Marco," Ellen piped up. "Would you get me a glass of water?" She watched the man's face turn red and smiled.

"Of course," the maître d' said with a strained smile. "Would you care for anything else, miss?"

"I'll let you know," Ellen said. She waved him off. "Thank you." Not as rude as Dad would have been, but not as polite as Gramma would have liked her to be. It would do.

Cobblepot clucked his tongue. "Oh dear. I take it that Marco gave you some trouble at the door?"

"It's fine, Mr. Cobblepot. He just thought I was a minor." It was her height. The one area where Mom's genetics had triumphed over Dad's. What she wouldn't give for an extra three or four inches sometimes.

"Please, Ellen," Cobblepot said, settling in his plush seat. "Call me Oswald. We're practically family after all."

Oh, were they now? In what sense of the term? "Alright," Ellen said, playing along. "Well, Oswald, Dad said that you wanted to see me."

"I did," Cobblepot said. He lit up his long cigarette and took a puff, careful not to blow smoke in her face. "Your father has informed me that you've decided to join the 'family business' as it were. Follow in his illustrious footsteps."

"Not quite," Ellen said. "I'm not going to start committing riddle crimes any time soon."

"That's fair enough," he admitted. "But still, you are joining the costumed life, and your father has finally accepted it." He shook his head. "Looking back, it seems that this was inevitable, wasn't it? Well then: I asked to meet with you because I'd like to offer you my assistance at this new stage in your life."

Ellen wanted to raise an eyebrow, but she didn't. Instead, she acted the part of a grateful young ingenue. "Thank you very much, Oswald." Just like experience had taught her. Get Cobblepot's guard down. Then once he turned his back on her, she'd get the chance to stick the knife in. If she needed to at least.

"No need to thank me at all," Cobblepot said. He looked pleased with himself, clearly enjoying being the last big fish in a pond that was getting smaller by the day. "Your father and I haven't always seen eye to eye, but he is one of my dearest friends. I'm happy to assist his daughter any way that I can." He took another drag of his cigarette, then fixed her with a probing look. "I do have one question for you though: what exactly do you intend to be?"

Ellen blinked. "Do you mean what kind of vigilante I want to be?"

"Precisely. I know full well you don't intend to be a Rogue. Your father has also informed me that you won't be joining the various Bats either."

"No," Ellen said with a harsh tone. "I won't take orders from him. Never."

Cobblepot took another long drag. "I see," he said. "Have you chosen your..former mentor's path then?"

"No," she said, swallowing the dull pain in her heart. "I'm not him. I'm not my father. I'm not a bat. I'm Enigma. I guess I don't really know what that means yet."

"Well, there's time to figure that out. In the meantime, I believe that we can come to an arrangement with each other."

And here it was. Ellen sat back and folded her arms across her chest. "You mean you want me to ignore your men trying their luck in the Narrows?" Cobblepot stopped smoking and stared at her. "The Narrows is being folded back into the West Side. My neighborhood. Maybe I don’t live there anymore but it’ll always be my neighborhood. I don’t want any more gangs fucking up my neighborhood, you understand me? Maybe Dad’s let you do whatever you want in the past, but I’m not Dad. And if you don’t want to support me anymore because of that, then fine. I don’t need it.”

Cobblepot stared at her through beady eyes. “You certainly are impertinent, child.” Then he surprised Ellen by laughing. “Very good! I admit that my men have been in the Narrows, but hardly for the reason you think. I’ve been having them flush out the remains of Sionis’ men. That was the last part of the bargain I made with Batman. In return, he’s allowed me to rebuild my position in the Bowery.”

Well. Now Ellen felt a bit sheepish. She folded her hands. “Ok. What do you want then?”

“You don’t believe I’m offering you help purely out of the goodness of my heart?”

“Hell fuck no.”

Cobblepot raised an eyebrow. “Language, my dear. You would be right again, of course. I was being honest with you when I said that I consider your father one of my dearest friends, but as you pointed out, you are not your father. You need to be negotiated with as a separate entity.”

Ellen smirked. “I’m listening, Ozzie.”

[lfthinkerwrites]

*spins wheel* Penelope Young and... *spins wheel* uh, Stephanie Brown. Huh, this'll be interesting.

That is interesting!

Stephanie wasn’t sure how she felt about Penelope Young.

Sure, she was doing a lot of good work trying to stop Strange, and sure, everyone deserved a chance to be better, but this was still the woman who had created the TITAN drug. Hell, this was a woman who still fell in love with Edward Nigma. There kind of had to be an upper cap on just how good a woman like that could be, right?

Ok, maybe that was a little unfair, but still.

Everything Oracle had told her about Dr. Young suggested that she was a cold, calculating professional. Someone who was always put-together, always in control. Someone who was as close to an opposite to Stephanie Brown as one could imagine. The woman Stephanie had dealt with in the hospital however? It felt like Babs must have been talking about another Dr. Young.

Dr. Young was a constant presence in Edward’s room. She was always sitting in a chair next to his bed, her eyes never leaving the comatose man. She never spoke. Stephanie wasn’t sure she slept. The only time she would seem to come to life was when Stephanie would bring Ellen into the room. Dr. Young would try to smile, ask Ellen about how her day at school was, but it never sounded convincing to Stephanie. She doubted Ellie was convinced either, by the way the younger girl would shoot concerned looks at her.

Today was no different. Two weeks since Edward’s coma, since Dr. Young had returned from Arkham City, and there was no change. Edward was still in a coma, and Dr. Young was like a ghost haunting the room. Ellen had walked out to use the bathroom, leaving Stephanie with the doctor.

Dr. Young's face fell as soon as the door shut, her eyes dropping down to the still form in the bed. She gently placed a hand on Edward's face, brushing his now long bangs out of his face. It was an intimate moment that Stephanie felt awkward seeing. She let her eyes drift to the floor, trying to give her as much privacy as possible.

"Thank you."

Stephanie blinked. Had Dr. Young just spoken to her? "Huh?"

Dr. Young was looking at her now. Her face was blank. "Ellen's told me how you've been looking after her. Thank you for that."

Stephanie rubbed her elbow. "You're welcome." Dr. Young gave her a small nod, then turned her attention back to her comatose lover. Had Edward ever told her who Batgirl really was? Stephanie doubted that. Ellie certainly didn't know, and if Edward would tell anyone, wouldn't he tell her first? The room felt too quiet. Stephanie spoke again. "She's a good kid."

"Yes," Dr. Young agreed without looking up. "She doesn't deserve-" her voice caught in her throat. "It's my fault," she managed to choke out. "I brought Edward into this."

Stephanie wasn't sure what to say. "Don't blame yourself," she said finally. "He wouldn't want that."

"Edward never cared about reforming Arkham," Dr. Young continued. "He only started opposing Strange for my sake, and he was almost killed because of it. And now Ellen's in the middle of this mess too."

"Strange had already come after him before. They were going to face off no matter what. And Ellie..." God, Ellie. "She was the one who sought him out," she said. "Edward chose to have a relationship with her." Dr. Young looked up sharply. "I'm not blaming him for anything," Stephanie said quickly. "It was just...really, really bad timing." Way to go, Steph.

Dr. Young's shoulders slumped. "What am I going to do?" she murmured. "How am I going to keep Ellen safe? Even if Harley keeps her word, Sharp won't hold back forever. And Ellen has so much anger...I'm afraid of what she'll do."

Stephanie narrowed her eyes slightly. First Selina, now Dr. Young...didn't anyone have any faith in Ellie? What exactly did they think she'd do? "I think she has a right to be angry," she said. "And even if she's angry, she's a good kid. She's not going to do anything crazy." Stephanie took a breath. "Look, I've been thinking about-"

Dr. Young's eyes hardened. "I know what you've been thinking about," she said. "Selina told me that you're considering training Ellen. The answer is no. I won't let you."

Stephanie felt her own resolve harden. "No disrespect, Dr. Young, but that's not up to you. You can't speak for Ellie."

"I can speak for her father," Dr. Young responded. "And he didn't want that. He has never wanted that. He went along with Batman's plan to infiltrate Arkham to make sure she didn't get a chance to put on a costume again! I can't pretend I understand why you put on a costume, whether it was out of some sense of obligation or just for the thrills, but you are not dragging Ellen into that lifestyle."

'Lifestyle'? Really? "She's already halfway there, and she got there long before I came into the picture," Stephanie argued. "I'm the one who found her on the streets wearing a homemade costume and hitting punks with a hammer!"

"And if I remember correctly, you took a bullet for her. She watched a man die. She almost died. Twice. Why do you want to expose her to even more trauma?"

"I don't!" Stephanie shouted. She took a quick breath to calm herself down. "Believe me, I don't. I wish she could go back to just being a normal kid, but she can't. Not as long as Strange is around. And I think deep down, you know that."

Dr. Young didn't answer. Instead, she looked down at Edward's body and reached for his limp hand. This wasn't the cold professional Babs had told Stephanie about. This was a grieving woman trying to hold on to what she had left.

[lfthinkerwrites]

Below the Belt

spin the wheel twice and I’ll write a small something about the characters you picked.

@constantron, your characters were Enigma and Jonathan Crane. Hope you enjoy!

Jonathan had been expecting one of the Bats to show up sooner or later, but this was a boon he hadn't expected.

One of the vigilantes was indeed nosing around his hideout, but it wasn't a bat. It was Enigma. Edward's daughter. The most inexperienced of the lot. The one he had been wanting to test his newest toxin on the most. He’d thought she was still in New York, causing mischief with Harkness’ bastard, but she was home.

Right where he wanted her.

She was on the first-floor landing, looking around the messy, cramped house with critical eyes. Jonathan watched her from his vantage point on the upper floor, like a bird of prey watching a field mouse. He could of course gas her now, but that wouldn’t do. For Edward’s daughter, the Demon of the West Side, the little Princess, the bitch who had taken Edward away from him, nothing less than the full syringe would do.

She still hadn’t noticed him, though her movements stilled. Had she heard him? No matter. She was alone. A fly caught in the spider's web. "Good evening, child," he drawled.

He delighted in the girl's startled response. The moment passed, and her shoulders relaxed. "Hi, Uncle Jon," she greeted in her usual insolent manner. "Heard you were planning to gas my old neighborhood again. I just live in your head rent-free, don't I?"

"And who told you that?" Jonathan drawled. "The Bats? Or your Daddy?" The barb had its intended effect as the girl's posture tensed. He couldn't see her face, but he was sure she was getting angry. She was always a hot-tempered little brat.

"What offends you more?" he asked. He kept his vantage point on the upper landing. "Being reminded that you're little more than a glorified errand girl, or being reminded that your father lived a full life without you?"

"Oh, here we go again," Enigma said. "Everyone and their mother's called me out for having Daddy issues by now. Get new material, you old fart."

"Such bravado," Jonathan sneered. "How like your father you are. Hiding your insecurities behind an ego, always having something to prove. Always trying to make the world believe that you're something greater than what you actually are." Jonathan paused. The girl was staring at her feet. She looked tiny, like the insignificant speck she was. "At least your father has his genius. What do you have? A smart mouth."

Enigma shrugged. "I don't know, it's worked out pretty well for me so far. I'm not the one who got their nuts bit off by Killer Croc, so I got that going for me."

Jonathan felt an eye twitch. "Childish as ever I see. Another quality you inherited from your father. I wonder what Edward thinks when he looks at you. It must be like looking in a mirror. Does he see himself as a younger man? Or are you a reminder of all of his mistakes?” Jonathan’s voice dropped to a low, melodic whisper. “That’s what you are, child. A mistake. You were never supposed to be born. You were never meant for this life. If things had gone differently, you never would have crossed paths with Edward. He would still be the Riddler, and you would be just some nobody he wouldn’t look twice at. He never would have wanted you.”

Enigma’s face had flushed red, then darkened. When Jonathan finished, she took a deep breath. “I know my Dad’s a son of a bitch,” she admitted. “I know if we’d met when he was the Riddler, he wouldn’t have wanted me around.” Then she smirked. “But at least my Mom did. Where were you on that, Uncle Jon?”

Jonathan’s eye twitched again. “Careful child,” he warned.

“What, so you can talk shit but I can’t?” The girl asked. “Dad told me all about how your Mom ditched you with your Great Granny. My Mom worked her ass off to support me. She spent as much time as she could with me, because she actually loved me. Do you know what that is, Uncle Jon? I don’t think you do. I don’t think you even really loved my Dad. You’re just like Harley, throwing a temper tantrum because your favorite toy ditched you for someone who actually does love him. Master of Fear, Lord of Despair my ass. I’ve gone to high school with chucklefucks in trench coats who were scarier than you.”

Jonathan narrowed his eyes. “Do you have any idea to whom you’re speaking, child?”

“I know exactly who I’m talking to,” Enigma said, her voice dropping. “I’m talking to the son of a bitch who broke my Dad’s heart.” She cracked her knuckles. “I know you’ve got that syringe on you, Uncle Jon. Are you gonna come down and use it sometime this century? I promised Boomer I’d take him to my favorite taco joint in Gotham.”

Jonathan really, really, really hated this child.

[lfthinkerwrites]

As Time Goes by

@gothamsgaygirlgang, your characters were Barbara Gordon and Jason Todd. Here you go!

spin the wheel twice and I’ll write a small something about the characters you picked.

Barbara isn't sure what to think when she hears that Bruce has a new Robin. It was Bruce and Dick, the Dynamic Duo, and it had been for years, until Dick had gone off to college, off to the Titans, and left a hole in Gotham City. A hole that Bruce had filled with a 12-year-old boy from Crime Alley. His name is Jason Todd.

She first meets him on a Gotham rooftop overlooking the museum District. She had just foiled a robbery of the Natural History Museum by men she's sure work for Cobblepot, and she and Bruce are comparing notes. The new Robin is there, Jason, and he looks at her with what she can only describe as a schoolboy crush. "Hi Robin," she says.

He grins wide and his green eyes, different from Dick's blue, shine as bright as any star in the sky. "Hi, Batgirl!"

Dick comes home to visit for Christmas, and Alfred goes all out. It will be Jason's first 'proper' Christmas as the butler says, and the living room is alight when Barbara arrives. Jason is perched on top of Bruce's shoulders, putting the star on top of the tree. "You got it, Jaylad?" Bruce asks.

"Got it!" Jason says. Once he puts the star on top, he turns towards Barbara and his smile is even wider. "Hi, Babs!"

Alfred takes a picture of the four of them, Bruce, Dick, Barbara, and Jason, the Batfamily, all in front of the tree, and it's the happiest Barbara has ever seen Bruce. The photo stays on the mantlepiece in the living room of Wayne Manor until...until...

Barbara wakes up in the hospital the day after Joker comes to her father's house, hours after the doctor told her that she would never walk again, and it isn't her father, or Bruce, or Dick sleeping in a chair next to her bed, but Jason. He opens his eyes almost as soon as she does. "Hi, Jason," she calls out weakly.

She reaches a hand out and he grabs it in an instant. "I'm sorry, Babs," the words come tumbling out of his mouth. "I should've been there, I'm sorry-"

"It's ok," Barbara says. Dad came to see her the night before, and the guilt in his eyes will never leave the rest of their lives. "It's ok."

Jason's grip tightens and there's an anger in his voice that she's never heard before. "I'll make him pay for this. I swear it."

Six months later Barbara is in a wheelchair, staring at a grave. She is numb as the box is lowered into the earth. She sees Jason at 12, 13, 14, 15-he didn't even make it to 16. Jason is dead, Robin is dead, Bruce's son is dead. Something in Bruce has died as well.

Dick and Bruce have a terrible fight. Dick leaves, and it's over a year until Barbara sees him again. Bruce retreats further and further into the night, pushing almost everyone else away. Jason's memory isn't a source of comfort, but a rotten open wound. Soon Tim comes, a new Robin, but Bruce is never a father to him the way he was to Jason. Stephanie comes, and Bruce can barely tolerate her similarities to Jason. Cassandra arrives, and Bruce sees an opportunity to shape her into his perfect soldier, one who will never feel the pain of losing a son. Bruce spirals into paranoia and almost brings the entire Justice League down with him until he hits rock bottom.

He reconciles with Dick. He becomes more emotionally involved with Tim. He starts to actually see Stephanie. He eases up on Cassandra. He slowly improves, but he is never the same as before. And Jason is still dead-

"Barbara?"

Barbara snapped back to the present. Bruce had been speaking to her. "I'm sorry," she said calmly. "What did you just say?"

Bruce repeated himself, slowly. "Jason is alive. He's the Red Hood."

Jason is alive. The 12-year-old boy she'd met on the Gotham rooftops, the 13-year-old boy who celebrated Christmas, the 14-year-old who fell asleep keeping vigil over her, the 15-year-old they'd buried is alive. "How?" she asked. Then the answer becomes obvious. "al Ghul." She didn't know whether to hunt Ra's down or thank him. Then the second part of what Bruce had said to her fully sank in. The happy boy she'd met all those years ago, the boy who had completed their little 'family' was the man who had killed dozens of people in the last few weeks and brought Black Mask to his knees. "It can't be. Not Jason."

"It is," Bruce said. "He's not-" his voice almost catches. "Barbara," he continues. "He's not the boy we knew."

Bruce left soon after, and Barbara sat in silence at her terminal, the memories swirling in her head, trying to reconcile the boy from before with the man now. Her phone rang and she was quick to answer it. "Yes?"

There was only the sound of heavy breathing, before a voice she'd thought she'd never hear again spoke. "Hi, Babs."

The tears that Barbara hadn't allowed herself to shed four years ago finally fall. "Hi, Jason."

[lfthinkerwrites]

Salvation

Title: Downfall

Chapter Title: Salvation

Fandom: Batman

Rating: M

Chapter summary:

Penelope has her final meeting with the Joker.

ao3 link

preview

Penelope said nothing but tightened the tourniquet. Joker shot her a warning look, only for her to gesture at the vein that had just become visible in his pale white skin. "I'm sorry, but I need to make sure I get your vein."

Joker relaxed. "Well, give a guy a little warning next time!" He said nothing as Penelope poured an alcoholic solution onto a piece of cotton and gently rubbed the skin around his vein. She pulled away, discarding the swab onto the floor. She stared a moment at the Joker. Here he was, sitting patiently in a wheelchair, with no idea what was coming. He met her gaze. "Well, go on!" he chided. "I'm not afraid of needles."

Penelope nodded. She turned her back on him, towards the table. The small box was within reach now. She could feel Joker's eyes fixed on her, but her body blocked his view of the box. This was it. This was her one shot. Even if she couldn't get past Joker's men, she could at least end it. She shut her eyes, and once again, she saw Eddie's face. For you, my darling. For you. She opened her eyes and made like she was reaching for an empty syringe on her right. "This might sting." Then at the last second, she reached into the box, pulled out the syringe, and whirled around to face Joker.

[lfthinkerwrites]

Here’s something fun I thought I’d try: spin the wheel twice and I’ll write a small something about the characters you picked.

[lfthinkerwrites]

Here’s something fun I thought I’d try: spin the wheel twice and I’ll write a small something about the characters you picked.

[lfthinkerwrites]

A Contentious Meeting, pt. 2

(This is even a bigger time skip than the last one shot. Beware some vague spoilers for the end of Downfall)

This was a meeting that was strictly off the books. No one, save for her, Flag, and the four men waiting in the basement of Belle Reve's administrative office knew that this was happening.

Waller had to be even more careful than usual. Sharp's allies in the federal government were plentiful, and her reputation after the catastrophe that was Luthor's presidency left much to be desired. When she had sent her message to Wayne all those months ago, she had been honest that there was little she could do to assist him. She had been forced to let him proceed, provided he could control Nigma.

Evidently, he couldn't. Now she was forced to act.

For the first time in nearly two years, Task Force X would be sent out on a mission.

"What did you say to convince Turner to come out from Detroit?" she asked Flag as they took the elevator down to the basement.

"I told him the truth," he answered. "He's been following what's happening in Gotham. When I told him we needed his help, he practically volunteered."

Well, that certainly made her life easier. "And the others?"

"Fugate's debriefing them now. I think Lawton will go along with it. Harkness though...he's going to be kicking and screaming even more than usual."

"Don't worry about Harkness," Waller said. "I know just how to ensure his cooperation."

She stepped out of the elevator the second the door opened. The basement was small, dingy, but well-lit. Sitting in chairs that had been hastily set up just an hour earlier, were the skeleton crew of this operation: Floyd Lawton. Deadshot. Benjamin Turner. Bronze Tiger. Temple Fugate. Clock King. George Harkness. Captain Boomerang.

The last man greeted her with a sneer. "Cheers, Waller. Wot's the idea draggin' us out at three in the morning? Was havin' a bonzer dream."

"Can it," she barked at him. She then addressed Lawton. "Has Fugate told you why we're meeting?"

Lawton nodded, putting out the cigarette he'd somehow acquired, then flicking it across the room. "Off the books meeting about Arkham City."

Harkness scoffed. "Arkham City. Stupid bloody name if you ask me."

"We didn't," Waller said. She raised her voice slightly to address the room. "As you are all aware, Arkham City was officially opened in Gotham six months ago by Professor Hugo Strange. It is the current residence of Gotham's criminal population, including the Rogues. Your mission, Task Force X, is to infiltrate Arkham City."

Harkness' eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. Turner quietly nodded. Lawton raised an eyebrow. "If you want us to kill Strange, there's got to be better ways of doing it than breaking into a prison camp."

"Strange isn't the direct target," Waller explained. "You're going in to find Edward Nigma."

This did seem to surprise Turner. "Nigma? I thought he was dead."

"Doubtful," Fugate said. "We believe the incident in August was a way for him to stage his disappearance. What his precise motives were I can't begin to guess, but there is some evidence to indicate that he is alive and active in Arkham City."

"Well good on Ed," Harkness said. "Why do we need to find 'im for? He leave a bloody riddle trophy in yer dunny?"

"Before he disappeared, Nigma was investigating Strange and Sharp for their illegal deeds in Gotham leading up to Arkham City's opening," Waller continued. "Any and all evidence he had from said investigation disappeared with him. Your mission, Task Force X, is to find him and get that evidence from him, whatever it takes."

A silence fell over the room as the four men considered her words. Fugate had already known, of course, but it was Lawton, Turner, and Harkness she pondered about. Harkness, as usual, was the one to break the silence. "No. No way. Send me back up. I ain't doing it."

"If you succeed, it will be five years off your sentence," Waller said. "Fugate, Lawton, that goes for you as well."

Harkness, however, would not be easy to persuade. "Five years off my sentence? Bloody brilliant, that means I'll have fifteen years to life left instead of twenty to life! What do we even care about Arkham City? If Strange wants to kill off all the Gotham freaks, I say let him! Good riddance to the whole lot of 'em!"

"It's not just the Rogues in there," Turner pointed out. "There are a lot of people in Arkham City who don't deserve to be there. Petty criminals, people in on drug charges. I even heard that he's been throwing protestors in there."

Harkness rolled his eyes. "Well, that's too bad. Still don't see how it's any of our business. 's not like we've ever cared 'bout those kind of people before. Why are we startin' now?"

Waller took a few steps towards Harkness and looked down coldly at him. "You may find yourself caring very much about what Strange does," she said. "There have been talks in Gotham City Hall about expanding the Arkham City experiment to other cities. Bludhaven. Metropolis. Even Keystone and Central City." As expected, Harkness' attitude changed from one of indifference to fear at hearing the last words. Waller leaned over the man, looking him dead in the eyes. "Isn't there at least one person in the world that you wouldn't want to see in a prison camp?"

Harkness jumped out of his chair, his teeth bared. "You bloody bike," he hissed. "Don't you dare bring 'im into this!"

Flag was at her side in an instant. "Sit down, Boomer! Now!" Lawton and Turner likewise looked alarmed.

Waller, however, remained calm and collected. She'd learned years ago that Harkness was 90% bark. "I'm not bringing him into this, but Strange certainly will. He chose to follow in your footsteps, after all. Do you think Strange will hesitate to throw a Rogue into prison? Even one as young as he is? There are younger men in Arkham City right now."

"We made a deal, Waller. You said that-"

"I know what I said," she interrupted. "I said that I would do what I could for him, but you need to hold up your end of the deal. If Strange is allowed to continue on because you refused to go on this mission, then I will be limited in what I can do. Do you understand that?" Harkness glared at her but said nothing. "I said," she repeated. "Do you understand that?"

The Rogue's shoulders finally sank in defeat. "Yeh. Alright. Alright, you bloody bike. I'll do it." He sat back down in his chair, looking like he had aged ten years. Lawton and Turner kept their eyes on him, one in confusion, and one in understanding.

Now that she had full control of the room, Waller stood back. "Good. Now, it's time to get to work."