#<- said in the same way batman would say ‘gotham needs me’

[nearmissclosecall]

barry johnson of joyce manor with blake schwarzenbach of jawbreaker, huge news for emo people from california (x)

[terrestrialnoob]

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[sanni276]

*Tim and Kon sitting on one of the couches in Titan's Tower*

*Kon suddenly turning to Tim*: Tim my best bro, you need to help me.

Tim: Sure. What's going on?

Kon: There is this guy I really really like but I just don't know how to tell him because everytime I flirt with him he thinks I am just joking and whenever I ask him to go out, just the two of us he answers me with: "Oh! This and this friend will love that! We should totally all go together.".

Tim internally freaking out: He likes guys? He likes a specific guy? Wait, does this mean I could have a chance with him? No, that's stupid he already said he likes someone else. Does this mean that I'm not even an option when Kon likes guys? No why am I only thinking about what this means for me? I am a horrible friend and-

Tim externally: Well what exactly do you like about him?

Kon *with a soft smile*: Everything. He's smart, somehow handsome and pretty at the same time, he is strong and good at fighting and sometimes he does things that just infuriate me and we argue but he is probably the best thing that ever happend to me and if he asked me to become supervillains and take over the world with him I would so without a seond thought.

Tim *literally crying on the inside because he's pretty sure he could be all of these things if he tried*: Then tell him that. After that say something like "I really like you and wanted to ask if you would like to go on a date with me sometime" If he still doesn't get it after all that then he is probably just not interested in you but too nice to outright say it.

Kon suddenly seriously looking Tim in the eyes: Tim, you are smart, somehow the most handsome and prettiest man i have laid my eyes upon at the same time, you are strong and and so good at everything you do and Rao you infuriate me sometimes but I wouldn't change anything about you for the world because you were there every single time I needed someone and I'm afraid ou are my favourite person and that I would sacrifice everything for you. You are my biggest weakness. My Kryptonite. I really really like you, and wanted to ask if you would like to go on a date with me sometime.

Tim: Yeah. Just like that. I'm sure whoever this mystery guy is will instantly fold. Sorry Kon, I think you're gonna have to excuse me now because Bruce wants me back in Gotham.

*Tim runs away to cry in his room and then mope about his crush for the next 2-17 buisness days*

Kon left behind head in his hands: Dude...Just tell me if you don't like me.

Kon is completly convinced that Tim knows how he feels since he is literally the best detective in the world (Yes. Even better than Batman) and there is absolutely no way he didn't get Kon's confession. Tim does infact not know.

Much to the infuriation and pain of everyone that somehow knows them it takes them another three weeks to realize their feelings are mutual and in fat not unrequited.

Except Cassandra: She had guessed the date excactly right and she won a lot of money. (there was a betting pool)

[to-the-stars8]

Crawling Back To You

Bruce Wayne x Reader Smut 18+ MDNI Ao3 Summary: Bruce shows up on your doorstep months after your breakup. He gets on his knees to get you back.

The tension hit Bruce the second he stepped inside, and it was thick enough to cut with a knife.

He’d disturbed your peace, and you didn’t hide that fact. But curiosity had cracked the door open, and Bruce knew it. Like two moths being drawn to the same damn flame. Gliding across the room, you sank into the couch like nothing had disrupted you. 

Your black silk nightgown, barely visible beneath the robe, had crept higher, teasing more of your thighs when you sat. Bruce tried to keep from looking, eyes flickering between you and the various art pieces you kept scattered around your apartment. 

“How are the boys?” you asked, voice like honey.

Only then did Bruce move, like you had finally given him permission. He sat on the loveseat opposite you. His hand ran over the grey fabric in an attempt to get rid of some stress.  As he spoke, his mind flickered back to teenage Dick and little Jason. 

“Good,” he said, clearing his throat. “Dick keeps asking about you.”

You smiled, and Bruce realized just how dangerous you were when you smiled like that. It was soft, sweet, and tempting. “I miss them both.”

Bruce agreed quietly, half-expecting you to say more. Maybe even ask why he’d come. But you didn’t need to. You already knew. He saw it in your eyes. Even as Batman, with all his training, he’d never mastered the art of picking someone apart with a single look. Not in the way you had, anyway. Under your gaze, he was naked. You didn’t just see him. You devoured him. You swallowed every flaw and perfection like you were starving. 

It made him feel alive and different. Something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

When you’d had enough of him, you looked away, a quiet snicker escaping your lips. Something amused you, and it drove him mad not knowing what. Another second passed before he was under your gaze again. 

“What do you want from me tonight, Bruce?”  When he couldn’t answer, you leaned toward him. “Do you wanna know what I think you want?”

He nodded, fingers clasped tightly in his lap. Truthfully, it was easier to deal with Gotham mobsters and villains. They were cut and dry compared to you. You picked up your wine glass, slow and deliberate, holding his attention before draining the last of it. With a lazy grace, you set the glass back down, leaning into the cushions of the other loveseat.

“You’re lonely, baby.” Your words sounded like pity rather than seduction. “You want me to give you my precious time. My love, too. I bet you would crawl on your knees for it.”

Bruce finally gathered the courage to meet your eyes. You’d stripped him down to his bones, and now, there was nothing left to hide.

“Do you want me on my knees?” He asked, sounding more sure of himself than he realized. 

You laughed, your head tipping back, and the sound of it sent a shiver down his spine. When you finally calmed yourself, you leaned toward him again, lips curling into a sly grin. His gaze fell to your breasts, a brief, unapologetic smirk flashing on his face.

“You’re pathetic, aren’t you?” You paused, biting back another laugh. “Control freak Batman, on his knees?”

“I’m not Batman right now.”

He had quieted you with his response, your eyes dropping to his belt. For the first time that evening, you were considering fucking him. While Bruce couldn’t strip someone down to the bare bones of every dark desire they had like you, he could read body language well enough. Your legs pressed together, and he could see your nipples harden under your nightgown. 

“You’re right, you’re not.” You played with the edge of your nightgown, pondering your next words. “Bruce, do you want to know what I want?”

Bruce was worried about what you would say, but he was desperate to hear it. He prayed that you wouldn’t say you wanted him to leave. “Please, tell me.”

“I want you.” You admitted, voice low. It almost sounded like a challenge. Bruce stood, taking a single step toward you, but you raised a finger, stopping him. “You gotta crawl to get what you want from me, baby. Didn’t you just offer to get on your knees?”

Bruce chuckled, a mix of surprise and something else, but mostly, it was the thrill of the game. Kneeling slowly, he began to crawl toward you. Something was intoxicating about the moment. It wasn’t just his body moving closer, but the feeling that he was surrendering to something more dangerous than he’d expected.

You watched, amusement flickering in your eyes, but you weren’t going to stop him just for your arousal. It was more fun to watch him squirm. He reached you, leaning in to press soft, lingering kisses on your knees and the inside of your thighs. Your hand found its way into his hair, gently yanking his head back so he was looking up at you. Leaning forward slightly, your noses touched, your free hand rubbed over the erection in his pants.

You smiled a little. “It’s been six months, and you still react to me like this? Looks like this cock of yours hasn’t forgotten me after all.”

“No,” Bruce chuckled, groaning when you gave him a gentle squeeze. “All of me hasn’t forgotten you.”

“You fucked me over, and I should hate you for that.” The words left your mouth hollow, lacking the venom they should’ve had. You had forgiven him the moment he looked up at you with those pitiful, aching blue eyes. They were full of regret, need, and something that looked dangerously close to love.

Burce moved first, rising just enough to press his lips to yours. Oh, God, he thought, this was what he wanted. He was starved for the taste of mint mixed wine on your tongue and the softness of your lips. His kiss deepened with a kind of desperation, fingers beginning to trail up your thighs, parting them slowly. 

“I want to taste you,” he murmured against your lips, voice low and hoarse.

You pulled back with a breathless smile, sinking deeper into the cushions, granting him silent permission. He quickly settled between your thighs like a man on a mission. The moment his tongue flicked over your clit, your hips bucked off the couch. Pleasure hit you fast and brutally. 

Bruce knew your body too well. He knew which spots to tease, where to press, where to lap and suck like he’d thought about doing this over and over again. 

“Oh, fuck,” You gasped, yanking his hair. You felt him chuckle against you, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan. Through blurry eyes, you commanded, “I need you inside me.”

But his mouth didn’t budge. His lips were wrapped around your clit, sucking with maddening slowness. And when he looked up at you through thick lashes, his expression was nothing but lust and defiance. He wasn’t finished. Not yet. He was savoring you, like the moment he let go, you’d just disappear. You gripped the cushions, breath ragged as your hips rolled against his mouth.

“Bruce,” You pleaded. “I want you in me, please!”

“Say it again,” he rasped.

You bit your lip, eyes locked on his, every ounce of pride already peeled away. “I want you inside me.”

He got up like he’d been released from a leash, crashing his mouth into yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, sweet and obscene. One hand tore at your nightgown as the other fumbled with his belt. When his cock sprung free, a rush of butterflies fluttered in your stomach. 

“Look at me, please,” Bruce ordered softly. You did, and he felt the weight of your gaze lighten. He pushed his cock against your clit, rubbing through your folds slightly, before beginning to push into you. He filled you completely, perfectly, like his body had been carved just to ruin you. He paused, forehead pressed to yours, both of you trembling.

“Move,” You commanded, nipping at his shoulder. 

He pumped in slowly the first few times, before picking up the pace. His rhythm quickly turned desperate, needy. You had been the only thought on his mind for months, ever since you parted ways. Bruce hated himself for fucking up so bad, because he did want your time and love. And he wanted to give you his. No matter how difficult he could be sometimes. 

As he thrust into you, you grabbed at his biceps, looking up at him with those pretty eyes. You liked him on top, like he was your shield against the rest of the world. Pressing his forehead against yours, Bruce grunted as he felt you begin to tighten around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” You breathed. “Fuck, Bruce.”

He buried his head in the nape of your neck, placing sloppy kisses to your hot skin. Bruce was close, too. You could feel it in the way his cock pulsed in you. 

“Cum with me,” You gasped. Then, when you felt your orgasm wash over you, you cried, “Cum in me.”

Bruce grunted, pulling you flush against him as he poured every last drop into you. He stilled for a second, letting you catch your breath, before he gave a few quick pumps before pulling out. Your chest was still rising and falling when Bruce finally collapsed beside you, his breath hot against your shoulder. The room smelled like sex and sweat and whatever the hell was left between you.

Bruce turned onto his side, laying his sweaty head on your chest and pulling you flush against him. You turned halfway, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you mumbled little praises. He was softer now, less Batman, more man. After a second, a hush fell over the two of you. With him holding you in such a way, you could have fallen asleep. 

“I missed you,” Bruce mumbled. 

You didn’t respond at first. You stared at the ceiling instead, letting his words hang in the air. “No, you didn’t,” you finally said. You shifted, sitting up just slightly, pulling your robe halfway over your body to preserve some of your dignity. “You’re lonely.”

“Maybe I was. That doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you,” He pointed out, propping himself up on his elbow. “I haven’t forgotten you. I couldn’t.”

That broke something in you. Or maybe it fixed it. You weren’t sure. You leaned into him, your forehead resting on his, his hand brushing the side of your face.

No more games. No more crawling. Just two broken people trying not to ruin it again.

[monotonykillsartist]

(Note this all before anyone outside of Fawcett knows who Billy batson is)

So Billy was in gotham for a simple mission, getting a magical herb that was local to Gotham. Obviously he had to come as Billy Batson and not as Captian Marvel cause he didn't want to get caught by batman. He was walking around a for a while before he spotted some of the herbs growing by an alleyway, with a grin he ran over. The sooner he got what he needed the sooner he could get out.

Unfortunately nothing in life could be that easy. In the middle of the alley there was a gun, with a grimce he picked it up. As he was contemplating how to properly throw away a gun, does it get recycled it's metal right? Or does it get thrown in the regular trash bin?

An ommunous cackling sound starts coming from the other side of the alley way and a shadow figure stands watching him. A trash can gets knocked over startling him and he accidentally pulls the trigger the figure drops, the laughter remains. Billy drops the gun and runs toward the figure with whispered profanity spilling from his mouth.

"I'm sorry, it was an accident" in rushes in a panic trying to stop the bleeding but the man dressed as a clown stops laughing and still a wide smile on his face.

"HELP!! SOMEBODY PLEsse" his voice wavers he's still putting pressure on the bullet wound. A thud drops down behind him. "It was an accident, I don't, I think" he sniffles "I killed him" he whispers out.

He turns and looks at who he persums is batman behind him and instead finds a man stock still with red metal helmet with glowing eyes. He shivers, red hood, he's not opposed to killing the bad guys like batman.

"I swear it was an accident I didn't- I wouldn't- ...I did it tho I killed him" Billy looked away from red hood and back at the man he killed, he was dressed as a clown gods was he going to a birthday party did he not only kills someone but also ruin another kids party. He is the worst.

"You-" a shaky voice starts hesitated for a second before continuing, "fuck you killed the Joker, that's-" he breaks off into a wet sounding laugh. Billy tenses shit did this guy know this clown was it for his kids birthday.

"It's fine kid your all good. I can take care of it from here. Don't play with guns, tho got it" Red hood says his voice sounding oddly warm.

\\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\

(So I had a couple ideas for this same premise, Billy accidentally or sometimes "accidentally shooting and killing the Joker so here's another route this could have taken)

"HELP!! SOMEBODY PLEsse" his voice wavers he's still putting pressure on the bullet wound. A thud drops down behind him. "It was an accident, I don't, I think" he sniffles "I killed him" he whispers out.

"Fuuuuccccckkkk did that kid kill the joker!" A baffled voice asks. Billy turns to see two cops and picks his lips nervously.

"Hey kid common up back away from him, Jim watch the kids, could be a set up" Billy swallow and walks over to the cop who remained behind eyes trained on his partner one hand ready to radio for help the other hovering over his holster.

"Shit, well I'll be damned. The kid got a lucky shot." The cop who approached the body said with a grin after checking for a pulse. "Officer Jackson speaking, the jokers dead" he spoke into his radio.

"Are you sure?" A voice asked over the radio in disbelief "pretty sure, bullet through the heart would have died almost instantly no pulse kicked him even no response, sucker's dead as a door knob" the office replied relief and joy in his voice.

"Aye Jim take the kid out for dinner kid deserves it, wait yold on" officer Jackson says pulling out his wallet pulls out 4 20s and a couple tens. "Here kid take this, all ongot on me right now but I feel like I gotta give you something not enough but all I got on me"

\\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\

(Or if it does end up going to court)

Billy on the stand: I did it I killed.

Lawyer: please don't listen to my client he is in shock he had a recent encounter with the Joker

Judge nodding along: strick that from the record and disregard that statement

Jury after seeing a grainy video of Billy shooting the joker: he is guilt free let the child go and he should be given a sum of money for the court wasting his time

**************

The watchtower

Captian marvel: hey bats I hope you had a good birthday

Batman grunt

Billy as Cap grins what do you get for a man who can have buy or do anything something he can't buy or do himself. Like kill his sons killer. Pss he's been in several wars and has a license to kill what one more body to the count. He does notice that batman looks alot less stress then he usually does. Best birthday present ever.

[evasive-anon]

Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower

Fanon vs Canon

We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.

What I'm addressing:

What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Did Jason drug all the other Titans?

Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?

Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?

Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?

Was Tim crying or scared?

Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?

Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?

Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.

What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.

Look at these opening lines:

Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.

Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.

There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:

You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.

Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.

TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.

What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.

Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*

Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?

Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.

Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.

Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?

Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.

Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?

No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.

Does Jason break Tim's staff?

Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.

Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭

Tim crying/ being scared?

Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.

Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.

Message on the wall in Tim's blood?

TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.

Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.

Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?

Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.

[dark-dragon-8]

A Supernatural × Batman crossover where the Batfam are actual cryptids and the brothers are sent to hunt them, only to find out that these guys are pretty much immortal, god like beings whose only weaknesses are each other, the sun and some weird sentient manifestation of their home city that they seem to care about, and most of them already grew out of the second one, since, apparently, the sun only affects them when they're newborns/newly transformed/changed.

The whole reason they ended up in Gotham in the first place was because of some online rumors saying that there is a demon cult in the city, as well as Blüdhaven [it's true, partially, the Bat clan has had several cults and/or religions painting them as godly beings/saviours of Gotham throughout the years, still do (imagine the colonies from F'ing Demon Bats, only this time the cryptid part of them is actually real)] along with shrines for human sacrifices.

At first they thought the locals sold themselves to a Pagan God in exchange for their safety, that the shrines and "holy grounds" spread throughout the city were for blood and human sacrifices and the creatures were feeding on the souls of their followers or something.

Turns out, that couldn't be further from the truth. Yes there were bloody sacrifices at the shrines, but most of the time those were just grieving kids bringing their dead pets to silence's holy grounds for them to be healed, or taken care of, by the spirit and have their souls at peace. But, again, that was rare, and only occurred at the holy grounds themselves rather than the shrines people attended to daily.

Majority of those shrines were filled with books, art supplies, music boxes with ballerinas and, sometimes, you could even find a few trinkets and computer parts, as well as the occasional plates and plastic boxes filled with home cooked meals, sometimes they even put pots and kettles filled to the brim with savory goods and nice tea. Nobody ever touched the food, not even the poor and desperate, when asked why all the brothers received were looks of horror and hushed whispers about how "The bats don't like thieves" and "They'll stop coming by the shrine, maybe even destroy it if we do that"

Dean didn't like it, neither did Sam, they didn't like how the locals, people who barely even bat an eye when they see a dead body on their way to work, get so scared and terrified as soon as they hear of something that might displease the Bats. They tried asking around, trying to figure out what is it that makes them so scared of their dearly beloved deities, after all, they talk about them like such a wonder, like they're the best thing that ever happened to them. Hell, one of them is named Mercy and was revered for its compassion and understanding of those around them.

They only got their answer when investigating a place called Crime Alley. They locals were all the same, if not even more reserved than their city's counterparts, but there was one person, a young girl who couldn't be older than ten that said she'll be willing to answer their questions in return for some money and stories from their time as hunters. They were reluctant at first, but seeing as they haven't had much of an option, they agreed.

"So, Masey" Dean started

"Missy" she corrected

"Right, sorry, Missy, you said that you could tell us what's up regarding those demons"

"Deities" she said sternly, the man simply nodded "And yes, I can do that, but you'll have to do something for me first"

"And what would that be?"

"You said you were a hunter, right?" He nodded "And you also said you have some money. So I want you to give me two hundred dollars, cash, and a written story containing at least three of your adventures with your partner. You can't use big fonts, lie or omit any details from the story, it needs to be one hundred percent real and legible and needs to be at least fifty pages, understood?"

Dean was confused, confused and worried. Why would this child need a story about them hunting monsters? And why did she need it to be so long and accurate? Was she trying to sell them out to the Bats or something? Why was this so important?

A million questions flooded his head and looking at Sammy, he could tell the feeling was very much mutual.

"Um Missy" it was Sam talking to her this time "Why would you want a story of us hunting like that? We could tell you about our time together on the field, if you want, but why do you need that written so meticulously?"

The little girl shook her head before he even finished speaking "No, no, I need it written"

"How so?"

"For Passion, of course"

"Passion?"

"Yeah, Passion, the component watching over Crime Alley, it loves reading stories but only when they're worth it. It doesn't like when people give them stories only to please it or for it to give them undeserved attention. It needs to be good and interesting, a story about two hunters will definitely do that"

The two hunters met each other's eyes, both their expressions filled with worry, apprehension and suspicion.

"And why all the other rules? Why does have to be so long and accurate?"

The girl tilted her head, looking at them as though they've said something stupid "Because you're introducing yourself, maybe"

"I can't just tell you guys all there is to know about the Bat without at least one of the components acknowledging you guys and giving me permission to share that information with outsiders"

"And what makes you think it won't just kill us as soon as it realizes what we do for a living?" They might've been desperate, but that doesn't mean they're going to give an essay about their weaknesses and hunting methods to a freaky, probably homicidal spirit on a silver platter

"Because they like people like you, people who put their lives on the line in order to help those around them. Also" she leveled her gaze with Dean's, which was pretty impressive considering she barely reached his hip "Had it wanted you dead, you wouldn't have been able to take two steps inside Crime Alley without having a heart attack, or your head magically disappearing"

The two brothers tensed, the taller's eyes rapidly scanning their surroundings, hands fishing out a weird cellular device, probably an EMF reader or maybe a bottle of holy water, as the shorter failed to keep up his confident facade in front of the (probably) ten year old (because Dean isn't going to be spooked by a kid that hasn't even reached the double digits yet, he's 𝘯𝘰𝘵)

The little girl laughed, completely ignoring their - very justified!!! - panic "Relax, would ya? Passion doesn't kill people unless they feel like it's necessary"

They didn't seem to be very relaxed, she didn't care, she just told them to meet her again on the border of Crime Alley and its neighbor city in a week, before leaving.

Two hours later, Carrie Kelley was skipping into the main living room of Wayne Manor, where several of her siblings played video games and with their father reading the newspaper on the side, the perfect illusion of a normal, happy, completely human family.

She walked up to Bruce, sitting on the arm of his sofa as the last of her illusion magic slipped away

"Did you do it?"

"I offered them the deal, still not sure if they'll end up actually agreeing to it"

"Mn. You did well"

The young teen preened under the praise, thanking her father before going off to boast and scheme with the rest of her siblings, they were up planning contingencies and devising plans until Sundown.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Truth Without the Lasso

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!powered!reader

Summary: You're Wonder Woman's protégé and adopted daughter. Jason Todd admits that you look familiar, and you tell him secrets the gods have kept for your entire life.

Warnings: brief angst, fluff

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

19 Years Ago

The human, mortal-born baby washed ashore in Gotham Harbor was the talk of the town. Yet, when an out-of-town woman arrived in the dead of night and adopted her, the city quickly forgot the child, too caught up in its unraveling seam to wonder if the young girl found a home. Though they did not notice nor question her humanity, it was the first topic breached after she arrived on Mount Olympus.

“Who is the mortal?” Zeus demanded.

“She has no name,” Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, answered. “No family, no birthright. With the permission of the gods, I would like to adopt her, raise her, transform her into the warrior she is destined to be.”

Achilles looked to Zeus and nodded once. Other gods and goddesses followed, leaving their lofty perches to examine the young life nestled in Diana’s arms. She was at home with Diana, calm and content, and even smiled up at her. When Athena held the child, she squirmed and reached for Diana and cried against Hera’s chest.

“Diana has a connection to her,” Hera told Zeus, “one even you would have trouble breaking.”

“You have our blessing, daughter,” Zeus announced. “And for the child, age will bring her closer to her mother.”

Diana returned to Themyscira, growing to love the young child more each day. As she learned to crawl, walk, and talk, she showed early signs of powers like Diana’s. The blessing bestowed upon her by the gods brought her closer to her mother, indeed, and by the time you were old enough to leave Paradise, you’d met more than enough heroes, villains, and vigilantes to know your fate.

Present Day, Gotham

“What about you, Alkmini?” Flash asks. “Any ideas?”

You shrug, and Black Canary leans over. She whispers, “What about the public approach idea?”

“It’s stupid,” you mumble.

"I said the same about the idea to reform the JSA, but here we are,” Batman points out. “What were you thinking?”

You shift in your seat and look at the table as you say, “What if we just approach them as the JSA rather than trying to find some way to get past the Senate without exposing our identities?”

Batman looks to Superman, who undoubtedly has the most experience hiding his truest identity from humanity.

“Would Diana approve?” Clark asks, smiling at you.

“Why does it matter what Wonder Woman thinks?” Doctor Fate inquires. “Oh, right.”

“She would,” you answer.

“Then, in three weeks’ time, we’ll greet the approaching alien ship as the Justice Society of America, with or without the government’s approval,” Superman announces. “Meeting adjourned.”

“Patrolling tonight?” Bruce asks, seeming to spawn at your side.

“If they’ll let me tag along,” you answer as you prepare to enter the boom tube.

“The day my boys don’t let you patrol with them is the day they’ll need you most.”

“Alkmini!” Tim cheers as you join them on the roof.

“Drake,” you reply softly.

“You do enjoy reminding us that you know our secret identities,” Jason says, and you’re sure he’s smiling beneath the helmet.

You feel fingers along your belt, and the telltale crack of the Lasso of Truth precedes Dick asking, “ Do you care?”

“Of course not,” Jason answers, kicking his foot to remove your rope from his ankle.

“Why not?”

“I’m going to kill you,” Jason grits out, clearly talking through a clenched jaw.

“Where’s Robin?” you ask as you pull the lasso from Dick and return it to the hook along your waistband.

Jason breathes his thanks as Dick answers that he’s with Batman tonight. You feel more courageous than ever standing with Red Hood, Nightwing, and Red Robin. You’ve grown to love the bats and birds, and you know they care about you, too. Since learning their secret identities, you’ve noticed the long looks they send you, trying to decide if they should know who you are based on what they can see past the small mask your mother had forged for you. Diana’s your mother, biological or not, and your Themysciran family is as important to you as your Gotham family.

Batman flies across the sky before landing on the opposite side of the roof from you. You narrow your eyes and ask, “Did he get taller?”

“Let the criminals think so,” Batman rasps as he enters the light.

Damian is perched on his shoulders, his arms hanging as he blinks sleepily, leaning his head against the top of the cowl. Bruce’s gloved hands are wrapped protectively around Damian’s ankles as he moves carefully.

“Who can take him home?” he asks.

“I can,” you offer.

“Does Wonder Woman know where you are?”

“Of course.”

Bruce nods once, and when he tips toward you, Damian wakes. “Alkmini,” he says. “Your assistance on my Greek mythology essay was most….”

You wait for him to finish, but he slumps heavier against Bruce, asleep, and you take him carefully. Damian is incredibly special to you, and it isn’t the first time you’ve gone out of your way to protect him. You say goodbye to the boys, careful not to look directly at Jason’s red mask because you swear you can feel his intense gaze on you through the red material.

After you leave, Jason mumbles, “ So familiar. I should know by now.”

“How are the boys?” Diana asks, in her Wonder Woman costume – uniform? You aren’t sure of the correct terminology and are too far into training to ask – as she surveys the city.

“They’re good,” you answer. “Thanks for helping me with the braces. I’d hate to try to stop a real bullet without the practice.”

“Keep spending time in Gotham and you’ll appreciate the training even more.”

You chuckle and prepare to move your arms to deflect projectiles with the armor around your wrists once more.

Several hours after the conclusion of a rough patrol and a text from Dick, you knock on a locked window. Damian looks up from the couch and smiles before he lets you in. He hugs you tightly before stepping back.

“Where’s Jason?” you inquire, looking around the apartment.

“His room. You can go see him; I believe he’s sulking again. I don’t know if he reread Mr. Darcy’s first proposal or if tonight got to him,” Damian answers.

“Thanks.”

At the end of the short hall, you knock and wait for Jason to invite you in. He’s sitting on the floor, leaning back slightly with his patrol uniform still on, only his helmet and domino mask discarded beside him. You close the door and kneel beside his feet, giving him plenty of room.

“You know what one of my first memories is?” Jason asks, his head tipped back against the wall, his eyes closed. “When I was two or three, a kid washed up in the harbor. I don’t remember specifics, but it was a girl. The story stuck with me. I looked into it last night and read that a woman from out of town adopted her and took her away.”

You watch Jason and shift slightly. That was you, but you had no idea Jason knew about it. He opens his eyes and looks at you, smiling as you lose your fight to maintain eye contact and drop your eyes to his chest.

“Why haven’t you told us – me – who you really are?” he asks.

Your voice is soft, but you know Jason hears when you say, “Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to. And then, after that long, it just felt like… I guess I thought if I told you then it would be like I didn’t trust you before.”

“Do you trust me?” Jason asks.

You notice he didn’t even bother to include the rest of his family this time and pass him the lasso. With the end wrapped around your wrist, you say, “I trust you more than anything or anyone. Except my mom, maybe.”

Jason tilts his head, and his tongue runs over his lips quickly before he says, “I wasn’t aware this made shy people talk easier. I’ll have to remember that.” He tosses it back to you and places his hands on the floor beside him. “I trust you too, without the lasso.”

“Why’d you bring up the little girl from so long ago?” you inquire.

“There was a baby left in an alley tonight. Bruce said he’d look into it, but it just reminded me of that.”

You nod and roll your bottom lip between your teeth.

“You look so familiar,” he mutters. “Especially when you do that.”

Carefully, you move closer to Jason. He extends his arm, and you scoot forward until your hip is against his, facing him as his hand settles on your waist.

“Nineteen years ago, I was adopted by Wonder Woman,” you begin. “But, because of who she is, she couldn’t just take me in, she had to get permission from the gods.”

“The gods? Like Zeus, Athena?” Jason interjects.

You nod and continue, “They gave her permission, and gifted me some of her powers because we were connected and because I was a warrior.” You hold Jason’s intense gaze as you explain, “I was a warrior because I’d survived on my own and washed up in Gotham.”

“You visited with Diana,” Jason realizes. “That’s why you look so familiar! When Bruce first took me in, Diana would come by sometimes, and she always had a little girl with her.”

You smile, and Jason extends his legs out further. He pulls you against him, brushing his fingers along the bottom of your mask. After you nod, he peels it away from your face. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time and the thousandth time, he thinks as he tugs you into his lap.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you whisper.

“I trust you wholly,” Jason admits. “And that scared me. Do you remember playing together once, around Christmas the year after I stole Bruce’s tires?”

“Of course,” you answer as if it’s obvious. Something about having the mask off, being truly seen, makes it easier to admit everything. “How could I forget the Christmas I fell in love?”

Jason smiles and leans up, wrapping his arms around your waist as his nose taps yours.

“Are you decent?” Damian asks at the door. “I have a question regarding Odysseus and the suitors.”

“Is he reading The Odyssey?” you ask Jason.

“Sounds like a question for you,” he responds with a shrug.

“Are you okay? Finding a kid in a position like that can’t be easy.”

“I am. I’ll check on her tomorrow, and tonight hasn’t been all bad.”

“Come on in, Damian,” you call.

Jason scrambles for your mask, but you catch his wrist and shake your head as you stand from his lap. He pushes himself up beside you, and Damian enters with his nose in the book. When he finishes his question and looks up, his eyes widen.

You answer Damian’s question, but he doesn’t seem to hear it before he asks, “What’s your name?”

Jason answers with you, and you smile up at him.

“What’s that look for?” he inquires.

“I’m going to Themyscira for my birthday pretty soon. Do you want to come with me?”

“Will Diana threaten to kill me?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll go,” Damian offers.

“You’re all invited. But I should probably put Dick out of his misery and tell him that I am who he thinks I am.”

“Let’s take this,” Jason suggests, tugging your Lasso of Truth to pull you closer.

[thevoidstaredback]

The week after the Gala, there was another meeting at the Watchtower. Just as they had before, Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, Green Lantern, The Flash, and Aquaman stayed behind after everyone else left.

No chatter started up as the door closed with a final sounding noise. Like a Death Knull in the ears of five of the seven present heroes.

An eternity passed between one second and the next, everyone waiting for someone else to say something. No one knew why no one else was saying anything, but they all knew they didn't want to be the ones to drop whatever shoe was being held over their heads.

All except Batman, the epitome of stoicism, and Green Arrow, the epitome of suspense.

Eventually, Batman said, "So, how did you enjoy your trip to Gotham?" He didn't address a single person, prompting everyone to speak over themselves at once, all trying to explain away their presence in his city. Soon, though, their anxiety gave way to confusion as everyone realised that everyone else was saying the same thing as them.

"What?" Wonder Woman asked, "What's going on?"

"I asked how your trip to Gotham was."

"Um," Green Lantern said, "Care to address who you're talking to?"

"Why would I? You all know who I'm talking to."

There was a beat. "All of us?" Aquaman asked, "Were all of us in Gotham?"

"Yes." Batman says. "How did you enjoy your trip?"

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait!" The Flash said, "First of all, how would you know that?"

"Nothing happens in Gotham without my knowledge. No one or thing enters or leaves the city without me knowing."

"Right," The Flash relented, "That's creepy as hell, and a huge privacy violation! Second of all," he directs this at the rest of the room, "When were you all in Gotham? I was invited to a gala at Wayne Manor last weekend."

The round of agreements from around the room only confused everyone further.

"Wait, you mean we were all in one space as civilians?" Superman asked.

"There's no way that's a coincidence!" Green Lantern yelled, "What the hell, Batman?!"

"Arrow?" Wonder Woman's voice hushed everyone else's. "You've been awfully quiet."

Green Arrow took another moment before he moved. He chuckled lightly, "I see what you're doing, B. I can't believe I didn't notice earlier!" As he spoke, he reached up and removed his mask and hat, ignoring the others' disbelief. "It's nice to meet you all formally, I guess. I'm Oliver Queen."

The Flash blinked.

Superman spun to face Batman, anger in his expression. "You had Wayne throw a party to force us to reveal our identities to each other?!"

"I've known who you all are since just after you all made names for yourselves." Batman said.

Oliver shook his head. "You're horrible at this, man."

"We didn't tell you our names." Aquaman growled, "At least I didn't."

"No," The Flash agreed, "I didn't either."

"I am a detective first and foremost. I needed to know who you all are before I could trust you with the safety of this world."

Green Lantern got right up in Batman's face as he said, "You don't get a say in that, Batman. That's not up to you to decide."

"Not to mention that Wayne, who is a very well known civilian, knows who we are now. " Wonder Woman said, "Or, at least, I assume he does."

"He does," Batman affirmed.

Superman grabbed Batman's cape and picked him up out of his chair. "We were good friends, Bats, ut you've crossed a line."

"We can still be friends." Batman says.

"Oh, yeah?" Aquaman asks, "How?"

Ignoring how he was still suspended in the air, Batman, too, removed his cowl. Superman dropped him as soon as he realised who he was holding, backing away so everyone had a view of Batman. "Because I'm Batman."

Part 17 Storyboard Alt. Ending

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter fifteen

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: Will I remain posting regularly? That remains to be seen by everyone, myself included....Because every single time I say something, I end up accidentally not posting for weeks. Anyways, enjoy!

Series Masterlist

word count: 2.7k

Two nights later, all Bruce could think about was that Alfred had been right. 

He should have told y/n the truth while he had the chance.

“Where are you going?” 

A full day had passed since y/n found the picture in the elevator, and she half-expected Bruce’s voice to be a dream when she turned around. She hadn’t slept much, except for a brief few hours where her body literally had shut down and forced her into unconsciousness. Fear was her constant companion, but now, when she turned to see Bruce standing behind her with his arms crossed, anger cut through the fog of fear like a spear of flame. 

She mirrored his stance and crossed her own arms. “I’m going to let it slide since we’re all stressed, but try to boss me around again and see what happens.” 

Both of their jaws were clenched tightly shut. 

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. She could practically hear the words come out of his mouth, That’s not an answer. 

“I asked Gordon to come up,” she finally said, caving, though the anger still simmered below the surface. The nerve that Bruce Wayne had to barely be home, to barely care about her, and still try to boss her around all the same. She was this close to punching him in the face or pushing him down the stairs. Or maybe she would pour ice cubes in his bed next time he was asleep. “And if you’re going to bother me every single time I’m next to the fucking elevator, think again.”

Bruce relaxed marginally, completely ignoring her barbed comment–which was probably for the best. She had no energy left to really fight, anyways. 

Most of that energy had gone towards a preliminary article she had just submitted about the Gallo family. She hadn’t released any details about her involvement with them, merely reporting the fact that they were trying to make a move on Gotham. 

She had debated doing the article at all. Was it better to pretend like nothing was happening? Was it better to keep her head down and wait for it to resolve itself, whether because of Gordon and the Batman or through the Gallos finally getting to her? 

But then she realized that the people of Gotham deserved the truth, or at least as much of it she could get away with. She was already a target, but she didn’t need everyone else knowing that. 

So she had simply decided to send an article to print that Gotham was on the brink of another mob takeover, just like all of the business with Falcone and Maroni and everyone else who had corrupted their city. 

If only half of the city shared her views, y/n knew that they wouldn’t be happy with someone else trying to worm their way into their city. Gotham might be a shithole, but it was their shithole. 

The moment she had hit send, it had hit her. 

She didn’t want to be a sitting duck. She wanted to do something about it. She wanted those bastards gone. She wanted the work Bella Real and the Batman and cops like Gordon had done in the last year to stick–or at least have the chance of doing so. 

She had called Gordon, told him she wanted to talk over some things, that she needed company anyways. 

And now there she was, staring down the man who had broken her heart, waiting on Gordon to arrive on the elevator behind her. 

“Gordon and I are going to have a private conversation,” she said pointedly as the elevator doors slid open behind her. 

“Y/n,” Gordon said in greeting, but she still didn’t turn around. She and Bruce were still in the middle of their standoff. “Mr. Wayne. Good to see you again, at least under more…normal circumstances than last time.” 

She raised an eyebrow at Bruce. She could tell he wanted to argue, wanted to stick around and stick his nose even further into her business. But after a long silence, he inclined his head and said, ���Detective,” before turning and disappearing back the way he had come. 

Once Bruce was safely out of earshot, she gave Gordon her full attention and said what had been on her mind the past couple of hours. Or, if she was being completely honest, the past several days.

“I want you to use me as bait, and I don’t want you to argue about it. I want you to help me actually figure out how to get rid of these motherfuckers.” She crossed her arms again for good measure.  

Gordon sighed, long and loud. She expected an argument or a lecture or a combination of the two. But instead, all he said was, “We better bring our other friend into this discussion.” 

–

“Absolutely not,” was the very first thing the Batman said when she laid out her plan. 

“Yeah, well, as I like to point out to certain other people in my life, you’re not the boss of me. I’m going to do something stupid with or without your help, because I am fucking sick of this. Alright? I can’t live like this.” She shivered as a particularly brutal gust of wind cut through her. 

They were on top of the signal tower. She and Gordon had decided together that it was easier to smuggle her out than it would be to smuggle Batman in. Besides, she didn’t want those two parts of her life mixing. God forbid Bruce find out what she was up to. She was arguing with him enough already. 

Not to mention the fact that she didn’t want to disappoint Alfred, or cause him any more stress than she already had. 

The smuggling had taken a willing female detective–a nice woman in her late thirties name Lori Ayers–trading places with y/n. They were relatively the same height and build luckily enough, and Detective Ayers was already assigned to the security on Wayne Tower. An outfit switch, a fake detective badge, and lots of praying later, and there they were. Y/n had asked Gordon and Ayers if she could have a gun, but both of them had practically shouted no in her face. 

Gordon held up his hands, ever the peacekeeper. “Listen, man, I’m not saying we should put her in any unnecessary danger, but–” 

“The whole idea is unnecessary danger!” The Batman cut in. His voice echoed in the darkness of the night around them. 

Gordon continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “–but all I’m saying is that we aren’t any closer to catching these guys. None of us are. So if we can do something we know will draw them out…why not do it?” Gordon gave her a wry look. “And, like she said, it’s probably better to have us for backup before she does anything stupid on her own.” 

Y/n gave Batman a triumphant look as if to say See? I’m right. 

She studied him while he worked his jaw in annoyance. Was he sick of looking out for her? Because she was certainly sick of needing to be looked out for. She wanted to end it. 

“Fine,” he said, the word a growl he spat out. She tried to resist pumping her fist in the air, she really did. He gave her a Look with a capital L that had her lowering it immediately. “But let me just–let me follow this last lead, alright? If it doesn’t pan out, we’ll make a plan. Give me tonight before you do anything stupid.” 

She nodded eagerly. “Great, fine. I needed to get out of the house anyway.” Gordon was also giving her a Look. “What?” she said a bit defensively. 

“You’re awfully upbeat for someone who wants to offer herself up for bait to the mob.” He raised one dark eyebrow above the frames of his glasses. 

She shrugged. “Well, I have cabin fever, so this helped my mood immensely. Plus, the end is in sight. It’s about to be over, one way or another.” 

Later, when she thought back to that moment, she would wonder if she had jinxed it. Or maybe she was simply jinxed all along, one thing leading to another, leading to its inevitable end. Leading to the only possible way it could play out. Her luck, ever since stepping foot back in Gotham–and even before then, ever since Alfred had knocked on her apartment door–had been nonexistent. 

“One last lead,” Batman repeated, holding her gaze steadily for once. Something ran through her like an electric current at that look. Like he was trying to tell her something. 

“One last lead,” she said, crossing her heart for good measure. “I promise I’ll be good.” 

Gordon chuckled like he didn’t quite believe her. “Alright, let’s get back.” 

“I’ll follow you,” Batman said, interrupting her thoughts of how she was going to get Gordon to sneak her past Bruce and Alfred both. She hadn’t told either of them she was leaving, and she didn’t want to think about what they would say to her if they found out. It would only make her life that much harder. 

Her ride back with Gordon was mostly quiet. 

“Where did you get this fake badge anyways?” she asked when Wayne Tower’s doors finally came into view. She toyed with it, noting all the ways it looked like the real deal. Maybe she could hold onto it…just in case. 

“Confiscated it from a kid caught forging all kinds of stuff, including badges she used to get classified materials.” 

She. Interesting. Sounded like somebody y/n would like to hang out with. 

She didn’t say any of that out loud, however. All she did was hum and put the badge back on her belt. 

“And no, I won’t give you her name,” Gordon said. Their eyes met and they both laughed in tandem. 

“Fine, fine. I might be able to find it on my own anyway.” She winked. 

They parked in an alley where Gordon or the other detectives on stakeout duty usually parked. As they stepped out into the cold air, Gordon’s phone rang. 

“Just a second,” he said, stepping further towards the mouth of the alley. “I have to take this. Don’t move.” He pointed at threatening finger at her. She held up both hands in surrender. 

He needn’t have worried–the sound of an approaching motorcycle reached her ears as Batman pulled into the alley behind them. The noise reverberated off of the building walls for a moment before abruptly shutting off. Gordon locked eyes with him, inclined his head, and then answered the phone while striding towards the street ahead. 

“So,” she said casually to Batman as he stood broodily in the shadows. “Think I could have been a detective in another life?” She struck a little pose in her smart, borrowed business suit and trench coat, imagining the fake badge glinting in the low light. 

Batman made a noise that could have been a scoff or a laugh. “Sure, except you would have been fired for repeatedly breaking the rules. And laws.” 

She laughed delightedly. “You’re probably right.” She definitely had chosen the only profession that suited her nosiness and penchant for getting into trouble, something Bruce had pointed out years ago. 

“I’m definitely right.” 

They were closer together than she expected, the toes of their shoes almost touching. She wasn’t sure how that had happened. It was if they had both been drawn in by the other’s gravity, invisible and inevitable. He stared down at her for a moment before, of course, turning his face away. 

“There you go again,” she murmured as she memorized the line of his jaw. “Scared to look me in the eyes.” She reached out and poked his stubbled cheek gently. He froze, but didn’t make a move to step away. 

“I’m scared for you,” he said in an equally soft voice that sent shivers over her skin. “I don’t want you to have to offer yourself up. I don’t like thinking that I might not be able to keep you safe.” 

Y/n felt each of his words sink into her like rocks in a deep lake, sinking down and down and down until they settled at the bottom, heavy in her stomach. She was staring up at him now, their breath mingling, and he was finally, finally looking back. 

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. 

Instead, she did the next best thing. 

She stretched up onto her toes and kissed him. 

He went so still she immediately knew she had overstepped–and had overstepped badly. She quickly pulled away, face on fire, eyes straining to find anything to look at other than the rejection in his eyes. Stupid, that was so stupid. Just because he wanted her safe didn’t mean that he wanted her to kiss him. 

But before she got too far, his gloved hand caught her arm and tugged her closer. And then he was kissing her.

She inhaled deeply, her stomach doing somersaults in a way it had never done before. She was flying above Wayne Tower yet still somehow firmly rooted to the ground. It was like she could finally breathe again and yet somehow she was gasping for breath. His lips were gentle. One of his hands cupped her elbow while the other splayed across her upper back. She wished he had his gloves off, like that moment in another alley on another night. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. 

Then he was gone, a full step away. 

She couldn’t help it–her fingers traced her lips in a daze. 

They were staring at each other, both breathing slightly heavier than they had been before. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Gordon called from behind her somewhere. She couldn’t bring it within herself to care if he had seen or not. Her and the Batman were still staring at each other, in their own world, a seismic shift between them. 

“Goodnight,” she said, her voice low and raspy with want. 

“Be safe,” was all the Batman said as he watched her go. 

Gordon didn’t look at her like he had just seen them kissing, but she felt as if it were written all over her face. 

“Crime never sleeps,” he said to her as they walked the short distance to the doors. His head was constantly swiveling, searching for danger, and she knew a certain vigilante was watching from the shadows as well. 

Her entire body was electric, every nerve ending on fire, heat settling in her face and chest and lower, too. 

For once, she wasn’t wondering about who the Batman was. Her mind had been rendered totally blank by one kiss. She wasn’t even thinking about how he wasn’t Bruce Wayne, like every other kiss of her life. 

Instead it simply felt…right. 

She blinked and they were somehow inside. 

“Blake, can you escort Detective Ayers upstairs? I have to go to a crime scene.” Gordon gave Blake a long, searching look. Y/n knew that the moment the security guard looked up, he would recognize her. 

Sure enough, he did. His face did something complicated before he realized what Gordon said and stammered out, “S-sure. This way, Detective, um, Ayers.” He hit something on the computer keyboard, scrambling, having to hit whatever button it was a second time. 

“See you later,” Gordon said to her, the words full of meaning. 

She turned towards him and nodded. “Goodnight.” 

It felt stupid, pretending to be someone else in the lobby of her home, but they still didn’t know who had breached security two nights earlier. She knew it was better to be safe than sorry, but Blake knew who she was. What was to stop whoever worked for the Gallos from recognizing her as well? She imagined their pub, Maverick’s, covered in hundreds of stalkery photos of her. 

Gordon waved over his shoulder as she and Blake stepped into the elevator. As soon as the doors slid closed, y/n relaxed a bit. Everything was almost over. 

And she had kissed the Batman.

A smile grew on her face before she could stop it. 

When she glanced up, Blake was watching her. 

His upper lip and his hairline were beaded with sweat and he was much paler than normal. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, wondering if maybe he was sick. Something in her gut shivered with warning. 

“I’m so sorry–” he said, the words choked. “I’m so sorry. They have my sister.” 

That’s when she saw the glint of a needle in his hand.

taglist:

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[fancyfeathers]

Hi, im the anon who brought up a song by garbage. I was listening to Chicago, like any theater kid does, and I can’t do it alone came on. It reminded me of Ring leader! Villain! Dick, in a way that he would talk about his parents routine and showing reader each move in hopes that they can do it together. (If 🪱 anon isn’t taken, may I be that anon.)

have a nice rest of your night or day

Yandere!Batboys as Villains with Robin!Darlings AU Masterlist

Oh my god I love this idea, especially because as his darling’s day job I picture her as a ballerina/performer because of the parallels between them.

Like I can just imagine she is staying after rehearsal to use the stage to break in a new pair of pointe shoes, she was given the keys to lock up so she is the last one in the theater and she is all cozy in her sweatpants and hoodie over her leotard and has her headphones on, the noise canceling kind since she is alone, or so she thinks. She already called Bruce to let her know that she will be home late because she is locking up.

She pauses when she gets a call, the ringing intercepting her music is what gets her attention. So she huffs and goes back to her bag on the sight side of the stage where her phone is, it’s Bruce. When she answers she is slight annoyed until she actually hears the concern in her adoptive father’s voice…

“You need to get home know.”

“I already said I would be home late-“

“There was a break out from Arkham, the security systems were out.”

She was about to respond but there was a beeping from her end of the line, she looks down at her phone, no signal, but this was the center of Gotham, the phone line had to have been cut. She immediately starts grabbing her things, not even bothering to change out of her pointe shoes, normally she would not care about a break out, well it was nothing they could not handle, but their newest high security patient was in there because of her…

Or was in there…

She immediately feels a presence in the room in the room with her and she has the mind to just get out of there while she still can, or rather could…

“Look up, Sweet Pea.”

She nearly screams when she looks up and sees Dick hanging from the scaffolding that the stage lights hang from. He is smiling down at her like nothing is wrong, but the last time she saw him was when the GCPD finally found her and she was crying in Commissioner Gordon’s arms while he got cuffed by Detective Montoya, she looked just as horrified and now she did not have any of her gear to defend herself.

He jumps down, right in front of her and she looks horrified and shocked at the same time…

“Hey you don’t have to be so surprised, I did tell you I was an acrobat.”

“Get away from me.”

“Hey don’t be like that baby, we aren’t too different after all.”

“You kill people, Grayson. I keep this city safe from people exactly like you, but go on, how are we similar? Besides the dead parents part that is.”

Before she could even react, he grabs her leg and forces it up, pressing it up against her chest because of how flexible she is, pointing straight up in the air and it burns after hours after rehearsals. The way he looks at her makes her feel sick, it is as if he almost loves her, well he did say he loves her when he kidnapped her for over a month.

“Well we are both flexible…”

The only reason why he is able to mess with her in the moment is because she is tired and sore… and also the fact that she knows this was most certainly planned so at the very least she was locked in here with him, she could run and hide somewhere in the theater, she knows the building better than he does, or at least she thinks she does, and Batman would be here soon enough…

He starts dancing with her across the stage, her feet already hurt enough from her rehearsal on top of her breaking in her new pointe shoes…

Her feet stumble along as he dances with her, one of his hands squeezing onto her hand and the other unmoving from her waist. He hums a tune as he dances with her, she knows it well, Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, it’s the tune that everyone knows even if they do not know ballet.

“You know my parents used to have this act together…”

“That’s nice, I am not an acrobat though.”

“Well you do have the build have the build of one.”

She does not like it when he moves the hand on her waist down to squeeze at her thigh, that is when she snaps and tries to kick at him, but instead he manages to grab that leg as well and force it over his shoulder along with the other leg.

“Here… let me show you the steps…”

It goes on and on, her trying to fight against him and him just moving her and contorting her body into several different poses and positions, each one hurting more than the last, and then when she finally tries pushing him back on last time, she gets him to let go but it is her falls and falls hard and there is an audible crack as she falls to the ground and sees her ankle is a position it should not be in, all red and starting to swell

“Oh no… that looks like it must have been painful… oh come here, don’t cry… a broken bone or two are bound to come at some point.”

[blinkvlink]

alright, so, talia al ghul

these last few days I began reading more and more on her to get to know and understand her better.

my conclusion: I love talia al ghul. I LOVE HER. When she is written by good writers, she is gem of a character with deep lore, deep emotions and complex layers. She has her own morals and ways, and will not bend unless she wants to. Obviously she is gorgeous (even more so when she is not whitewashed) The definition of a queen.

That said, I want to see more of her outside of Batman and Robin. Especially Batman. Because more often than not, we see her through their stories. Their emotions, their point of views. If not them, through her father. It's so obvious to me that there is a golden mine under what we see, which in my opinion is always so surface levelled. And I think that is why I still can't get behind the Brutalia ship.

Selina x Bruce has had years to develop, both the ship itself and the characters, no matter how poorly they were handled sometimes. They both feel like their own people, with their own stories, friends and people. Batman has the Batfamily, which sometimes include Selina herself. And Selina has Holly, Maggie and other characters I can't recall at the moment. While I really don't like it most of the time, they even both have their respective love interests. All these things help add to their relationship whenever they come back to each other, because it actually feels like two people reuniting. I could get into how deep their relationship is too but that's for another post.

When it comes to Talia and Bruce, for me, it always feels empty. Yes, there are very charged emotions, a very complicated history, and a literal child that bind them together, but we always see this through Bruce, maybe Robin, but rarely ever Talia herself. She is just there for us to see if Damian and Bruce are seeing her, or she is involved in some event that is happening in THEIR stories.

I want to see Talia in her own element. I want to see her in her own past (and I am not talking about a single issue in either one of these two characters runs). I even want to see her have other love interests, because most of the time her character feels too much: Bruce Bruce Beloved Bruce to me. Not only that, their romance is very much doomed by the narrative. They have very two different ideologies, and have the means to achieve those said ideologies, which drives them apart sooner or later. This can be incredibly tasty angsty and beautiful, but in the end of the day, it would became the same 'will they won't they' paradox of Batcat, and unlike the latter, it's not because of DC refusing to break the status quo. It's because giving these two characters a happy ending would mean one of them giving their ideology up, and knowing DC would never do that for Batman, I don't want to see Talia give up her ambitions for a man.

The conclusion is: I want to see more of her character outside the male figures in her life. I want her to find love that will actually make her happy, someone who has her ideologies because in the end of the day, no matter what you say, that's what makes Batcat a thousand times more possible and popular than Brutalia. Their approaches are fairly similar, their love for Gotham and her people bind them together, as well as any affection they share. (We don't talk about Gotham war here, that was just pure bullshit)

Man if it was up to me I would make her a bisexual queen even! Give me WLW Talia!

The point is: I adore Talia, but her character needs to be developed without Batman (Robin is fair game because he is literally her son), so when the writers bring these two together, permanent or not, it can actually be more than just a melancholic, doomed by the narrative romance.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

[secretidentie]

movies that should be superbat fics

Inspired by the first full superbat fic I've ever read The Proposal by @blackbatofel

How to loose a guy in 10 day: Clark needs to write a story to break into the main stream so people will pay attention to his more important work and after hearing Cat grant talk about her love life he decides to write about all the ways you can drive a man away in ten days. Bruce Wayne is trying to adopt Dick and sign a deal for WE and both those things require him to prove he can commit to something and be a family man so he bets he can make someone fall in love with him in 10 days

The other woman: Bruce Wayne is dating lex Luther for PR reasons. Clark is dating lex for investigation reasons. When Clark finds out online that lex has a boyfriend he's furious about the infidelity and immediately tells Bruce. Bruce, thinking Clark is a heartbroken mistress, suggests working together to get revenge. Clark, wanting to comfort Bruce through his breakup, agrees to said revenge. Shenanigans insues.

The hangover: batman, superman and green lantern are assigned to a mission in Vegas. They complete it easily and to celebrate lantern convince them to get drinks together even though the other two don't get along. When Bruce and Clark(who isn't supposed to be able to get drunk) wake up the next morning they don't know where they are, somethings wrong with Clark's powers, Hal's ring is in the bathroom sink, he's no where to be found and apparently the two of them got married last night. They have to figure out what happened and where Hal is before the next JL debrief otherwise they'll have to admit to Diana and the whole team that they fucked up a simple mission by getting shit faced on the job and Bruce would rather die than let that happen.

The holiday: when Bruce realizes he's either dumped, adopted or detested everyone in Gotham he's yearning for a change of scenery. He gets into contact with an old friend, lois lane, who's recently devorced but is still living with her ex husband. After finding out that she shares his desire for something different they decided to swap homes for a few weeks where they can both work remotely to experience life across the pond.

Titanic: a young Bruce engaged to Talia goes on a yacht cruise with the league of assassin's on the unsinkable ship designed by lex Luther by combining metals like lead with alien tech. Uncoincidentally Clark sneeks on the ship to investing in for kryptonite and criminal activities but ends up finding love as well.( Does this mean Clark has to die? Probably, but it's worth it for the plot. And Clark's sacrifice and worldview could be what inspired Bruce to quit the league and become batman)

You before me: After Bruce is horribly injured on the field he has to prematurely hand over the mantel of batman. Since his kids have done a good job at filling in for him, Bruce feels like he's lost his purpose. Alfred decides to hire Clark kent, an aspiring journalist from Smallville, as Bruce's caregiver so he can show Bruce a better outlook on life and hopefully convince him to reconsider ending his life(y'all know I had to even out the death score)

Bring it on: Bruce Wayne, owner of the daily planet, prides himself on the fact that his paper was the most awarded publication for the past 3 years. While gearing up for the 4th his new hire, lois lane reveals to him that his recently retired chef editor has been stealing stories from a smaller independent paper. That paper has been gaining traction this year and is being nominated for the same awards as them, including a pulitzer. After the owner of the rival paper, Clark, doesn't accept his apology or financial help, Bruce strives for justice and wants to make it right. During this he starts admiring Clark's work and starts falling from him. Clark,reluctant to let his guard down and be too trusting again, says he doesn't want pity from a billionaire pushing Bruce to do everything he can to turn his staff into award winners.... or atleast decent writers.(I clearly have no idea how journalism awards work)

[sirxlla]

Hey!! I saw your poll and had some food for thought.

Wouldn't the best ghost face be the ones LEAST voted for? I’m saying “best ghostface” as the most likely to get away with it, although there could be many other factors to consider in this.

Everyone voted for Jason be he is already prone to killing, etc. etc. but that boy is a theater kid at heart, everything he has done is to put on a show. Cutting off heads and stuffing them in a duffle bag, the whole thing with Bruce and the Joker! Not to mention the fact he is build like a fridge, he just seems like he would almost immediately be a suspect. (If we really wanted we could add the inherent bias over the fact he is a Gotham born kid from Crime Ally to the mix, it’s just not looking good for him.).

Now Bruce Wayne also makes sense to be the best Ghostface! He has already made such a distinction between Brucie and Batman that it’s hard to believe he wouldn’t be amazing at getting away with it. He’s wayyyyy smart enough to come up with the plans, strong enough to compete with aliens, switch from one persona to the next on the drop of a dime! The hardest thing to find would be motivation because of how strong of an opinion he has on himself not killing.

I’m personally of the mind that Dick Grayson would be one of the best Ghostfaces but that’s honestly just bc of how charismatic he is! He has canonically killed the Joker in a fit of rage and most I know tend to forget that until they are reminded of it. Within fandom, he has earned the reputation of being the shiny happy golden boy when in fact he is just as broody as the rest of the batfam. Don’t get me wrong I love him, but he is just as manipulative, secretive, and a dick just as much as the rest of them!

But yea! It was just something I noticed within the polls and thought was interesting, I would love to know your thoughts!!

Yes, absolutely. Even though I'm such a Jason girlie, I do agree that the ones that people think would be Ghostface would honestly be good in the consensus of a generalized idea but not actually good when it comes to either the charisma or the brain power of being a good Ghost Face. You need to be creative but calculated.

When it comes to Ghostface my favorite ghost face is Mickey because of the fact that he's so different than the rest of them I don't agree with everyone's opinion that Stu and Billy are the best because they are just so very obvious and very bland. Mickey kills to kill and he's psychotic so what he does is very hard to explain and predict.

I also think Richie was good and would be good the same way Bruce, Dick, Damian and Tim would be better than Jason because you'd never think they'd do anything like that. Richie's the only boyfriend I didnt expect was the killer even though it was starring me in the face because he was comforting but not in a overly obvious way.

Tim, Dick and Bruce seem unoppsing because Bruce has a no kill rule, Dick is like a golden retriever good boy and Tim's just like a sweet baby angel.

Jason would be the most easy to catch or guess because of what you and I have said. Everyone expects Jason to kill, Jason's more messy, less calculated. He's skilled but especially with Jason having regenerative powers he would be a better killer like Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers.

[brucewaynehater101]

So one of my favorite tropes is Jason or Dick going "mine now" and adopting every bat kid to come after them, and turning Bruce into a father in legality only, a reluctant grandfather in reality

See the endnotes of both "Dynamic" by Cant_Smoke_Eggs and " bystander" by greeneyedfirework

And also the Crimelord Tim-Never-Robins AU is making me tear up rn so I'm just gonna kindly take the ideas of that AU and the Carrion Crows and and shove them all into a blender to—

☆・★・・・★・☆

Tim Drake's parents are as awful as they are in the Never-Robin verse but here he—to put things horrifically lightly—convinces himself out of it

Oh yes, what you're describing is abuse and it's wrong! What did you say about his parents? They do everything he agrees is abuse? No! You misunderstand, they aren't abusive they're . . .

When Jason dies and Tim blackmails his way into Robinhood, into making sure his last remaining light in this world lives and stays as via shining as he always sees him, he get's a proper excuse

Not that he could ever tell others of course

But it's just what he personally needed

How could my parents ever be abusive? Batman hardly ever remarks about them and sometimes he even trains me more painfully then whenever my parents are back home!

☆・★・・・★・☆

Thus goes his life until he comes across a girl and her ward

Or maybe baby brother is more appropriate

Introducing Cassandra Cain, League of Assassin's renegade extraordanaire

And who does she have with her? It's only Damian al Ghul, blood son of Talia and Brucie!

Yeah, some time during or after Jason's departure from the League, Cassandra by sheer chance got in the same room as Damian

A fucking child which horrified her, so she snatched that kid and dipped

Damian telling her stories about his father and big brother both from Gotham gave her a clear direction of where to head

☆・★・・・★・☆

Not that they tell Tim this, they've hardly met him

They tell Robin silly! Damian in particular is insistent that the vigilante introduce him to his father as he is the blood son

Tim—wanting to help Batman since his plate is full—says it will take some time but he knows someone who can give a place to stay, they can trust his verified associate

Thus is how the two move into the Drake Manor with Timothy Drake full-time

It's nice, he accommodates for their needs and teaches them whatever they don't know

Cassandra quickly clues in—and informs the latter—on Tim and Robin being one & the same

When Cassandra confronts Tim about this, he does his best to calmly (are you sure about that young boy?) justify himself

He recounts the rise of Batman, of the first Robin turned Nightwing, and the Second Robin until his death

Batman's grief would descend into him transforming his vigilantism into a suicide mission

And Gotham? Gotham may be a horrifically corrupt city now, but before Batman it was hell on earth

It was already slipping back into there, what with lifelong hospital bills, disabilities, and job loss being indiscriminately handed out left and right

Though, Batman's rogues weren't facing the brunt of his rage nearly as much as most desperate criminals he came across, just trying to survive

Thus, to keep Gotham from tumbling back into the days before Batman, and to keep the hero from killing himself (because saying 'get himself killed' is dishonest) he blackmailed himself into the Robin role to act as Bat's leash and caretaker

He realized he may have miscalculated when Cassandra's knuckles go bone white

☆・★・・・★・☆

Cassandra had several moments where she has second-thoughts about bringing Damian to his father, and now they're solidifying

She subsequently informs said baby brother that "holy shit, you're father is a monster" with stories what she learns about him, albeit mildly omitting the nastier details she doesn't want Damian to know at his young age

Doesn't help when they both notice the injuries Tim doesn't even get on patrol but training and he has to go to Agent A or himself for medical aid

☆・★・・・★・☆

Tim Drake always saw himself an exception to justice. His parent love him and he has a duty to Batman

Whe his parents come home he tells them about his new friends staying over for some time

After working it out with the two, they even have their identities legalized and nobody will bat an eye at their presence with Tim

The Drakes come home and one moment he's introducing his parents to his friends

The next he's closing an incinerator room's doors with a lockpick

How . . . ?

☆・★・・・★・☆

during Tim's blackout, Janet and Jack made some classist and other comments towards Damian and Cassandra, and since their legal identities are of orphans, and went as far as to threaten abuse knowing they'd get away with it

That caused something in Tim to break and finally do his parents in

Upon realizing what he's done, Tim is going to be pretty hysterical and grieving and when Cass ask's what's up he immediately breaks down

☆・★・・・★・☆

So yeah, Tim has to hide his parent's death and speedrun becoming secret CEO until he can become one publicly

Step number one? Get Cassandra and Damian adopted by the late Drakes and insert them into their wills

Cassandra and Damian stick with Tim because they care for him, he's also single handedly providing for them, plus they don't want to test their luck with Batman at all

Damian is having an identity crisis because he was taught to take pride in his blood but his father who's been hella hyped up has brutalized his new big brother repeatedly

Maybe Tim stumbles across Stephanie and Duke, and gets them adopted too

Maybe we have a Jason with less of his screws loose and he walks up to Tim and is like "where are you parents" "they're totally alive!" "Holy shit you're an orphan actively distancing yourself from the batman because he abused you *adopts him as son*" or maybe Dick Grayson fathers instead, idk

Or maybe Jason here is still willing to pull a Titans Tower idk

My brain is melting lol

Holy hell. I love this AU. Tim adopting his other family members is near and dear to me. He has the means to and has canonically made up fake family members. He can totally throw someone into his family legally (and technically illegally).

Have you seen Damian Drake? This kind of reminds me of that fic, but with Cass in it and the Drakes dead. For this AU, it would be precious if Damian starts to take pride in Tim's last name instead. That, or they could create a new one for the 3 of them (until Dick, Jason, Duke, and others join [Steph is always weird cause she dated Tim. It's similar to how Babs isn't legally considered family/siblings, but she's still part of the family]).

Damian thus has legal to claim to both Drake Industries and Wayne Enterprises (if he ever chooses to disclose his relation to Bruce). The best part of this is that Tim is building a large family by stealing them all from Bruce (cause fuck that man).

Also, Cass and Damian should interact more in fanwork. I'm so glad that you have them as such in this. Similar to Steph and Damian, I don't see that relationship as much which is sad. They have such great sibling bonds.

Two more thoughts: One, I love the characterization of Tim stepping back into his body to find he had murdered his parents and just rolling with it (besides the mandatory breakdown). He just figures it out cause it is what it is. Two, how old is Tim in this? Does he immediately become CEO or try to pretend his parents are still alive?

I'm also imagining Tim just gathering all these people, and he's not necessarily their leader/boss, but he does provide for them. He guides them and supports them. He's like a family mafia boss, but without any command or orders. The others are free to do as they please, but they tend to run decisions against each other

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter one: on my way to circle k

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.3k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

The Slurpee machine is broken again. 

It isn’t that big of an issue, not particularly world-ending, no, especially since you get regularly held at gunpoint (or knifepoint) and occasionally used as a hostage. 

But for you, working the night shift from eleven PM to seven AM, you kind of need the sugar boost. The Slurpees are easier on your stomach than the coffee is. Even if they do stain your mouth. 

You sigh, continuing to stare at the machine; it whirs and sputters strangely and you set aside the cup to shut it off. You’ll also need to file the paperwork for it to be fixed. That seriously blows. 

You get it unplugged just as the gust of wind hits. 

You stumble. Shelves groan in protest. Several rows of granola bars and trail mix are sent flying. 

Oh, great, who is it now—

You hear your name in a question, from a very familiar voice. 

You spit out a mouthful of your hair. “Flash?”

Sure enough, in the flesh, the Flash grins at you, blue lightning fading from his body. He spreads his arms as he exclaims your name again.

In a blink, he is there, arms wrapping around you, lifting you off the ground as he squeezes the life out of you. Another blink and you’re on the ground, looking at him, his hand on your shoulder. 

“Look at you, kid. It’s good to see you. I can’t believe you’re still working here.”

A stupid grin forms on your lips. “It’s not the same here without you eating up our inventory.”

He laughs. “I bet!”

You shake your head, fixing your hair and your shirt. Flash notices the state of the granola bars and trail mix, sends you an apologetic smile, and in the next blink, they are back on the shelves, neatly arranged. 

“So, what brings you here? If you can answer that.”

He waves a hand, flitting around, emptying the sausage grill and making himself several hot dogs. 

“One of the rogues got a little, shall we say, ambitious and wanted to try his luck here. Just trying to snatch him up before Batman finds out.”

“Let me guess—Trickster?”

He points a hot dog loaded with mustard and ketchup at you. “Bingo.”

“It’s dripping.”

“Aw, shit.” He shoves the rest of the hot dog in his mouth, grabs a napkin, and starts dabbing at the spot of mustard on his suit. 

You watch him, amused, but also morbidly fascinated as usual at seeing him eat so much. When he finishes the hot dogs, he goes for the pizza. It makes sense when you think about it, that a guy who can run faster than the speed of light should need to eat so much, but it’s been a while since you’ve had the pleasure of watching him refuel. Six months, actually, since you returned from Keystone City. 

You scratch your head. “I’m not sure why Trickster would want to come here. Batman, I think, is a worse punishment than you—”

“Agree, even if that’s also a little insulting to me.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. You’re avoiding him, aren’t you?”

Flash nods. “This is true. Carry on.”

“Well… Gotham already has a joke-themed guy. I don’t think Joker is going to take too kindly to someone encroaching on that. Unless he’s back in Arkham. Though he might’ve escaped again…”

“Y’see, that’s what I thought. It’s gonna sound bad, too, but I’m kinda hoping those two take care of each other, then I can get Trickster back to Iron Heights without any issues. But—”

You crack a smile, guessing his next words immediately. “When is it ever that easy?”

You had once believed the Flash to be just about infallible. After all, he is the Flash. This is the guy who, like you said, can run faster than the speed of light. He can canvas a city in under a minute. That’s how he takes care of Central City and Keystone City. (Well, the addition of the other Flash and Kid Flash probably help, too, but you know.)

But it’s not that easy. It’s why, you think, Metropolis has issues, even when they have Superman. 

No rest for the wicked and all. 

“Well, it’s still good to see you,” you say, a tad more hesitantly this time. Unsure if you can say that. 

Flash looks back at you, sending you a warm smile. “It’s good to see you, too. How’s school?”

“No classes now. Financial aid doesn’t cover the summer, so.”

He frowns. “You’re still on track to graduate next year, though, right?”

You pause, surprised he remembered you saying that. “Yeah, yeah, I am.” 

Flash nods, worries assuaged, then his gaze strays to the Slurpee machine, its lights turned off. “Aw, it’s not working?”

“Not today, sorry.”

He purses his lips, head tilting as he looks at the counter where the machine and your abandoned cup are. 

“Wait a second,” he says, then the food that was in his hands is on the counter and he’s gone with arcs of blue lightning following him, a tingly feeling spreading through your fingertips and toes, like when you used to be a kid and dragged your hands across those old TV screens, feeling the static. 

True to his word, in the next second, he is in front of you, two Slurpees in hand. One blue raspberry and another cherry. 

You grin as he proudly presents the blue raspberry Slurpee to you. 

“Thanks.”

He winks. “My pleasure.”

He collects his food again then gestures to the front with his head. Sipping at the ice-cold Slurpee, you follow him, sliding behind the counter.

“Time to head off?” you guess, ringing up the food he already ate, then the rest of the stuff. 

He slips out a few bills from a hidden pocket at his hip. “Yeah, I need to go before—”

“Flash!” The door opens roughly. You balk as you see who it is. “Seriously? You can’t just run off. You’re just as bad as Impulse sometimes, I swear.”

Red Robin stands there, hands on his hips, scowling, doing a good impression of a teacher scolding a student, which is really weird for you, since you’ve always held a good dose of fear and respect for the Bats and this doesn’t really… go on par with that. And also, you’re pretty sure Flash is older than him. 

Flash frowns. “Now that’s seriously uncalled for. I’m much better than he is. We were done talking, weren’t we? You’d call me if you found anything and it’s not like it would take me time to get there, would it?”

Red Robin doesn’t respond to that, mostly because he’s looking at you now. You’ve never seen him up close — any of them up close. Black fair falls sharply over his forehead, a black domino mask hiding his eyes. Not like a normal one; this one allows for more coverage under his eyes, going down to his nose, the end of which curves in a way reminiscent of a bird. But under the bright fluorescents of Circle K, everything else is easy to make out. Pale skin, a sharp jaw, a soft-looking mouth. 

Great. He’s hot. And something else… something that niggles at you. Familiar in a way that bothers you because you’ve never seen him in person. Not like this. 

You swallow nervously, giving him a half-hearted wave. The action jars him and he looks away from you quickly. 

“Hey, don’t be mean to her,” Flash chides. “Seriously. Look at her. You’ve made her nervous.”

“Flash.”

He shoots you a troublesome grin. “Nah, don’t worry about him, kid. He’s harmless.”

“Flash,” Red Robin hisses out, his voice sounding stranger than before, modulated, in a way. 

You compose yourself, giving Flash a look. “You know better than that. Perception means everything.”

“That is true,” he says. “But believe me. If fear worked as well as they’d like it to, Gotham would be the safest city in the country.”

A long-suffering sigh. Red Robin is turned away now and by the movement of his arm, pinching the bridge of his nose, exasperated. 

“Hey, I’m not wrong,” he says to him, even despite you silently waving for him to drop it. “Look, fear is fine and all. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with nurturing relationships with the people you protect. That’s what I did with you, isn’t it, kid?”

“Yeah, but I’m also not, you know, from there…”

He collects his change. “Which is why it’s even more embarrassing that these guys make you nervous and I don’t.”

Red Robin huffs. 

Flash shrugs, smirking. “Just food for thought. I’ll see you around, yeah, kiddo? Gotta get going before this guy gets annoyed enough to just tell Batman about me and then I’ll really have problems.”

Then he’s gone, blue lightning arcing in his wake. Red Robin sighs again and leaves without a word or backward glance. 

You stand there for a minute, unsure if that really happened. But the signature Slurpee cup of blue raspberry, already sweating because the June heat in Gotham is unbearable and the AC is not up to task, assures you very much that that did just happen.

A little unsteady, you take a seat on the stool, shaking your head and dragging the cup to you. 

At least you got to see Flash again.

You don’t see him again, which is what you expected. 

What you don’t expect is the appearance of Red Robin the next night. 

You’ve grown up in Gotham City. Like anyone else, you have a healthy dose of fear and respect for the vigilantes that prowl the shadows. You also, unlike Vicki Vale or any journalist or obsessive conspiracy theorist, have absolutely zero interest in interacting with them. 

Usually, interacting with them means you are in grave danger. 

(You had to unlearn some of that during your brief tenure in Keystone City; the Flash was a little bit different from them. Maybe more than a little bit…)

So, when Red Robin shows up at Circle K at half past one in the morning, you are… a tad wary. 

It doesn’t help that he seems awkwardly frozen, too, as your voice catches in the middle of your perfunctory Hi, welcome in as you realize who it is. 

For a minute, it is painfully, painfully quiet. 

“Is there something—”

“Do you have any—”

You both stop. You purse your lips. Red Robin is… blushing a little bit? Holy shit.

“Go ahead,” he says, clearing his throat after. His voice still sounds off like yesterday—modulated.

You grimace. “Sorry, I was just asking if there was something going on? Should I lock down the shop or hide or something?”

He looks briefly confused. “No? I mean, no… Everything is fine. I was just wondering if you guys had any, uh—” he seems to falter, scrambling a little bit “—hot… chocolate?”

Hot chocolate in June? What a weirdo.

You keep your face straight, though. 

Flash might’ve let you off the hook when it came to formalities but you’d be an idiot to think you could get away with that with these guys. 

He exhales the briefest laugh at something, then—you, you realize, your expression, which should be perfectly polite, what the hell. He turns his head away as a smile curls his lips. That niggling feeling—which began as soon as you realized he was here—strengthens. You push it away for a second.

“I know. Late night. Don’t like coffee, so it’s a good alternative.”

How did he—? 

Must be the detective thing.

You apologize anyway. 

“Sorry. My, uh, friend’s like that, in a way,” you say, your tongue again moving faster than your brain can grapple with. He won’t care about the fact that your friend, Tim, is like that, too. Well, Tim likes the occasional energy drink if he’s staying up late because he doesn’t like coffee. Not this hot chocolate business. But maybe? Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually. Probably better than Red Bull, even if he doesn’t drink it often, maybe once or twice a month. And, anyway, it’s not the point. This guy doesn’t care. He probably couldn’t care less. You’re just trying to show him—oh, it doesn’t matter. This entire thing has gone straight to shit. All because he managed to read your judgment.

“Oh?” It’s a question but it’s a bit strangled. See? He doesn’t care. Poor guy. Probably trying to think of a way to get out of this. Well, you’ll do him one better. 

“Uh, yeah… he’s—well. Doesn’t matter. Yeah, the machine is working. It’s over there.” 

“Thanks.”

You nod and glance away, leaving him to cross to the other side of the store. You can’t help but watch him go, watching the way the heavy black cape swishes with his movements, boots soundless on the shitty tiled floors. He disappears behind the shelf, but his head is visible. A head of dark, dark hair that seems… familiar to you.

Ugh. What is with you?

It’s Red freakin’ Robin. You’ve glimpsed him and the others briefly. Shadows in the night, swinging from buildings, jumping from rooftops. Anybody who lives in Gotham long enough has seen the same. Doesn’t mean you know him enough to be this way, to be so bothered by something that won’t even come to mind.

You shake your head briefly. 

You should think more on why he’s even here.

Though, it seems obvious, given what happened yesterday night.

Flash has a way of getting beneath your skin and inciting the most childish tendencies. You imagine his little comment about trust between vigilante and citizen bothered Red Robin.

Well, rest assured, you understand the position they are in. You enjoyed the way Flash visited you but they can’t afford that. Perception is gold. It is true, in some ways, that if it were as effective as they wanted it to be, Gotham would be less crime-ridden than it currently is. 

(But that was also a conundrum with the corrupt government. So long as the systems were in place, crime would always happen, and it would take more than the Bats to fix that.)

Either way, they cannot afford for that mask to slip—metaphorically and literally.

There is a level of trust, you think, between the Bats and the people but… it’s not the same kind Flash fosters with his own. 

You feel obligated to let Red Robin know that, with that, he has no obligation to do anything out of the ordinary. 

So, that’s what you do when he comes back over to the counter, two small cups of hot chocolate in hand.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He turns forward with a five dollar bill in hand. “I can’t just not pay—”

“I’m not talking about that.” 

He is paying. You are moderately appreciative of what they do but not that appreciative. 

“So, what else is it that I don’t have to do?”

You gesture between you two. “This. Come here to try and prove the Flash wrong.”

“I’m not—”

You try to level with him. 

“It’s cool, man. He can be annoying. Annoying enough that he could make anyone want to prove him wrong. I get it. But he’s also a little bit of a doof when it comes to matters of the public. Though I’m betting he was trying to aggravate you more than anything. Either way, I get it. You have an image to keep up. Do what you have to do.”

“So, you don’t want me to come back?” Not an accusation. A genuine question.

You blink. “That’s not what I said. I don’t mind. I’m just… letting you know.”

“What do you know about it, anyway? Upholding an image? You seem very confident on the do’s and don’ts, despite being a civilian.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You guys actually refer to us non-vigilantes as civilians? Like, unironically?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you with the emotionless white lids of the domino mask, lips pressed in a line.

You smile and roll your eyes, finally taking his five and opening the register. “I’m majoring in communication with a concentration in PR. Did an internship at Quickstart Enterprises last semester working with their PR department. You can say I know a thing or two about it.”

“What year?”

“Just finished my third. Starting my final in the fall. Look, I’m not saying you have to take my advice, I just wanted you to know. That’s all. I’m not holding it against you.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

You slide his change to him. “That’s all I ask.”

He picks up the cups, says, “Keep the change,” and then, he’s gone, dark cape fluttering, his figure swallowed up by the darkness of the night. 

The only traces of his presence is the door slowly closing and the change still sitting on the counter.

These hero-types and their dramatic exits. Honestly. 

You meet the Flash in your second week of work at Circle K.

The stipend from QE covered your housing and groceries but didn’t allow for much options regarding the latter. At least not the fresh produce kind. 

So, you picked up a job at Circle K. Part-time only, which worked well with the schedule you had at QE. You typically worked evenings—not the graveyard shift you do now, which you took only because it paid better during the night—so from seven to eleven. 

The Flash was different from the Bats in that regard. While Signal worked during the day, the rest of them worked during the night. 

Flash told you he liked sleep, so he would take care of things during a reasonable hour in the evening to accommodate that, which meant you were beheld to his presence. 

Frequently.

And the first time…

You have no idea what to make of the superhero currently raiding the sausage grill.

A larger part of you is suspicious, hoping that the Flash isn’t about to come up to you and say something arrogant about not being required to pay. A lot of the cops you get say something to that effect. It takes so much willpower in you to not roll your eyes. 

But another part of you right now, the Tim part of your brain, is fascinated. Wants to ask some geeky questions about his power. Presumably, the fact that he is the fastest man alive means he has to eat a lot to sustain it, right?

Well. That one is a bit self-explanatory. At least if the way he’s stuffing his face tells you anything.

Suspicion wins out, though.

Keystone City is a nice enough city. Central City, across the river, is the same. They aren’t Gotham, that’s for sure, and sometimes you don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse. 

It’s mostly that Keystone City is situated in Kansas and across the Mississippi, in Mississippi, is Central City. These regions of the country, historically conservative, make you a bit tetchy. Not at all helped by the fact that for a very long time, Keystone City was suspended in the fifties. Or rather, what they thought were the fifties. Time passed normally outside of it until the Flash fixed everything.

It gives Keystone an aesthetic old-timey vibe to it but with all the modern luxuries of the late 2010s, like phones and, you know, civil rights. 

But things have been okay, for the most part. The people you encounter here at Circle K are amiable enough. (Well, except for the cops you get. You could go without dealing with those idiots.)

Though, admittedly, between work for QE and here and trying to keep yourself fed and (mostly) rested, you haven’t gotten out much.

The Flash, though… you haven’t directly encountered him. Not in your few weeks here. Sometimes when walking to the subway, you feel the sharp gust of wind, commonly associated with him as he makes his way through the city faster than a speeding bullet, glass windows and cars rattling dangerously in the aftermath of his path. On the news, when he takes down whichever rogue woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and in the newspaper. But nothing beyond that.

People speak fondly of him, for the most part. Rumors are solid sources of information but you just can’t help but be a little bit suspicious. There is such a thing as too good to be true, after all…

You reach for your half-empty cup of blue raspberry Slurpee. Though it’s the beginning of September, summer takes longer to leave the midwest, you’ve learned, and the summers here are loads worse than ones you’ve experienced in Gotham. 

Before you can even get your mouth around the red straw, a breeze hits and you blink, finding the Flash in front of you, depositing mostly empty cartons of hot dogs onto the counter, with a few of them still full. On their way to being empty, though, as he crams more into his mouth. A cup of cherry Slurpee finishes it off.

The Flash points a half-eaten hot dog at you. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“No, no, not like that. You’ve just got this suspicion to you. This… paranoia. A paranoia that can only belong to someone from Gotham,” he says, nodding to himself. 

Well, that’s—

Hm.

A bit embarrassed to be caught out like that—because it isn’t the first time—you attempt to make up for it.

“I’m from Metropolis, actually.” 

Best to stay on the east coast. Even you couldn’t pass as someone from the west coast, like Star City or Coast City or something. 

Flash grins at you. “Liar.”

You aren’t used to this kind of playful banter. Certainly not from a literal superhero, from someone who regularly saves the world with the likes of Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman and more. You don’t think you expected the cold brutality the city gets from the Bats back home but… you didn’t expect this, either.

To get a much-needed sense of normalcy, you scan one of the hot dog cartons, adding them up on the screen.

“Was it that obvious? I wasn’t trying to be… I mean, I was, but, you know, I didn’t, um…”

You stop, cringing. Very eloquent and more than a little annoying, given your career choice. Can’t be like that when you get put on the spot. Even if it’s by a superhero. Especially if it’s by a superhero. Journalists are even worse, anyway…

“Relax, kid,” he laughs. “To tell you the truth, it was hard to miss but I’m sort of geared for that kind of thing, what with my choice in career.”

“Right.” You scan the Slurpee and take a drink of yours while he fiddles with some zipper in his suit. A deep red, with a purple tinge, a silver Flash symbol on his chest, and a cowl, but with the top free, showing off a shock of red hair, and his eyes still exposed. Pretty green.  

“But I do have an unfair advantage,” he goes on. “I see a similar look every time I have a League meeting.”

You blink. “The League…?”

“You should know. Your caped crusader, Batman. Of course, that’s also because he doesn’t like me—and the feeling is mutual, trust me—but, you know. Schematics. He sits right across from me and that’s all I get, this classic brand of Gothamite suspicion on top of the usual wordless Batman disapproval.”

“Should you be telling me that?”

He hands you a twenty. You pop open the register to break it. Another breeze hits and the empty cartons of hot dogs are shoved into the trash, with him eating the last one and on his way to finishing the large cup of cherry-flavored Slurpee. 

“I mean, what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” you say lightly, calculating his change. “I could go to the press. Breaking News: Strife within the League. Tenuous relations between Batman and the Flash.”

“Oh, really?”

“That’s the press. A common dislike will absolutely turn into that in their headlines. They would take it and run.”

“That is true. You a journalist?” 

“Oh, no. Communications, with a concentration in public relations.”

Flash thinks on it for a second, finishing his hot dog, then the Slurpee. You partially expect him to get angry. It would be a justified reaction. He doesn’t know you and you don’t know him. You can admit that some of what you just said is a bit… imperious. Who are you to lecture him, right?

“You aren’t wrong,” he finally says, repeating his earlier words as the last hot dog carton and Slurpee cup disappear from the counter—thrown in the trash. 

“But,” he presses, accepting the change from you—a few dollars—then dropping it into your tip jar. “I know you aren’t going to take that to the press.”

“How’s that?” 

He points at you. “Because I don’t think you’re the kind of person to do that.”

“You’re appealing to my morals?”

“Yes. Is it working?”

“Not much work to be had,” you admit. “I was never going to. I was just…”

“Being nice and telling me I should watch what I say,” he finishes, grinning. “Which is true. All true. I just couldn’t help myself. What’s your name, kid?”

You tell him. He extends a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to Keystone City. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

A bit bemused, you nod politely and say, “Thanks.”

Before he can say anything else, he visibly tenses, lifting a hand to the Hermes-like wings at his ears, then, in the next blink, he is gone, off to stop someone or something, leaving you with a sharp gust of wind that rattles the windows and knocks the candy from the shelves under the counter onto the ground.

Well, then.

Talk about a first impression. 

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