#Dick’s had a secret identity since he was eight

[morganbritton132]

Nightwing hiding out in Commissioner Gordon’s office because Batman will not check there. When Gordon points out that vigilanteism is a crime and he’s technically a criminal, and that he needs to go sulk somewhere else, Dick is like, “C’mon, we’re practically family.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Nightwing says, dropping his voice an octave lower. “I don’t even know if you have kids…what’s that? Batman, uh. In my ear. Talking. Gotta go.”

*summersaults out an open window*

[pinkiemachine]

GOTHAM FILES: SEASON 7

SO, to start off, Jason has begun to form the Outlaws in a mini series going on in the background. His new team consists of himself, Roy Harper (Arsenal), Artemis of Bana-Mighdall (Amazon warrior), and Bizarro, (botched Superman clone).

BUT FORGET ALL THAT—SEASON 7.

The opening arc issssssssssss 🥁 🥁 🥁

THE KILLING JOKE.

Joker is back, he’s out of Arkham, and this time… his scheme is particularly diabolical. He’s discovered Batgirl’s secret identity. By the end of this harrowing tale, after many ups and downs, Joker escapes… after having shot Barbara in the back and paralysing her from the waste down. This shatters Barbara’s world. So not only has her identity been leaked (eventually making its way to the public) but now she’s lost the ability to walk and she’s lost the ability to be Batgirl. Basically, everything she ever wanted to do for Gotham, for her friends and family, feels completely out of reach now, and she doesn’t know what to do.

I mean, first of all, she needs to go underground to keep her and her father safe, but after that… she needs to do some serious soul searching. The conclusion of which is this: she may not be able to use her body to its fullest extent anymore, but she still has her sharp mind. She can still help. She can be the BatFam’s “Guy in the chair.” Or in this case, “Gal in the chair.” She takes the new Codename “Oracle” and sets up her headquarters in an old, abandoned clock tower. (She can’t be seen at Wayne Manor, ever. They’d link her (Batgirl) back to Bruce and then the secret would be out.) But now she’s kinda starting to feel like she’s found her groove again. She has a purpose again.

Damian continues his training under Bruce, Dick and Star navigate married life, Jason is gallivanting off with the Outlaws, Tim has actually been chosen by Bruce to kind of become Bruce Wayne’s apprentice in a way—Bruce thinks that one day, maybe he could run Wayne Enterprises—Stephanie and Tim continue to work on their relationship, Batwoman makes another appearance, Batman and Catwoman start to date a little more seriously (much to Damian’s chagrin), things move forward, and then we meet Cassandra Cain.

Specifically, Barbara meets Cass. See, this girl is very similar to Damian in that she was raised to be an assassin. However, her twisted father’s approach was to prohibit her from speaking ever, so that she had to rely solely on body language and facial expressions. This allows her to read people exceptionally well. She can tell if someone’s going to attack her, how they’re going to attack her, and when they’re going to attack her, all before they can even blink. Thing is, she’s not a natural-born killer. After she took her first life at just eight years old, she freaked out and tired to run away. She managed to escape a few years later. Now she had popped up on Oracle’s radar, and she sent in the BatFam to sort out the kerfuffle. When Bruce meets her, he can tell that she’s not like the deranged lunatics of Gotham, she’s just a kid. A kid with no clear direction in life and a dark past. He lets her crash at the Manor until she can get a few things sorted. They also need her help to bring down her father, another known criminal. Barbara, though, recognises something within Cass that she sees in herself. A feeling… that you believe you’re broken… like something’s wrong with you. Cass has been trying to learn to speak since running away, but she’s really bad at it. The only thing she’s good for is knowing how to kill people. Even her friends. She feels like she’s a broken human being. Barbara for a while felt literally broken, due to her legs. Like she wasn’t good for anything. And even now, she sometimes feels like she’s only good for one thing: sitting behind a screen. She takes Cass under her wing and she begins to teach her all the things she learned as Batgirl. Together, they both heal and learn to move past what they both thought they were. In the end, Babs becomes much for comfortable and confident in her new role as Oracle, and Cass redeems herself by becoming the new Batgirl. Steph also adopts her as her best friend/Batsister immediately.

After that, Barbara gets the idea to start the Birds of Prey (an elite squad of girl superheroes which she manages from her chair) and everything’s going pretty well for a while.

We get introduced to Luke Fox, aka Batwing, (I need to research his story more, soorrryyy…… there’s a lot of charactersssss)

Harley Quinn has just begun her redemption arc! Well, I mean, I will have been hinting at this for several seasons, but now it’s official. Now she’s coming back to the sane side.

Damian is finally allowed to go to school at Gotham Academy (though he insists that he always arrive via helicopter. He accepts no substitutions), and while we’re talking about Damian, let’s see how he’s doing with the whole “murder” thing. He’s, uh… not as bad as he was when he first arrived… so that’s good. But at the same time… he, uh… he still has some room for improvement. He’s got a little bit of a temper, he’s still stuck-up, and although he’s able to follow Batman’s no killing rule, he does still plan to go back to his old ways as soon as his time with Bruce is over. His destiny is still to become the new Demon’s Head and rule the New World, remember? BUT THEN…

The grande finale of season 7. His name is Heretic… and he’s a bad dude. So bad, in fact, that he manages to kill Damian. HOWEVER… that is not where the finale ends… it’s only just started… no cliffhangers this time. Bruce, naturally, does not take this death well, but he’s also not going to crumble this time. This time, he knows it’s possible to bring Damian back, and he will go to the ends of the Earth to make that happen. He pursues every single conceivable avenue available to him, and he Does. Not. Rest. until he brings his son back to life! The other Batkids are there too, helping, and together, they manage to save their little brother. (I forget how they do that in the comics just now, I’ll come back and edit this later XD) Anyway, this is the second most crucial moment in Damian’s life. Now, he has experienced what it’s like to die… to be on the other end of a sword… and he’s moved by the fact that not only his father, but his entire adoptive family (who’ve famously hated him), all came together to save him. It completely redefines his definition of love and it opens up an entirely new feeling for him: empathy. From this moment on, he doesn’t even try to take another life. He’s starting to think that maybe he doesn’t want to.

Oh, and also, Starfire’s pregnant! 🎉

Part 8 👇

Part 6 👇

[schrijverr]

Slipped Their Minds

After a few years working alongside the Justice League, Batman decides that it will be safe to let his kids tie themselves back to him. The only thing is, that since Nightwing is already part of the League, they forget to mention that he is also part of the Bat associates. They only remember when they are surrounded by other members, who loose their shit at the fact that Batman is Nigthwing’s dad.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

When the Justice League forms, most heroes have been around for a few years already. Superman has been flying over the skies of Metropolis for four years, the Flash has been zooming around Central for three and the Green Lantern got his assignment a year and a half ago. While Wonder Woman, J’onn J’onzz and Cyborg are more recent additions.

The only exception to this rule is Batman, who has already been doing this for around fifteen years already, though no one knows for sure when he started. And he has never been very forthcoming with the information either.

Now it’s two years later and the Justice League is looking to expand. The hero community has grown since their start and they want to pad their numbers and increase their reach, so that they can make more of a difference.

One of the new members they recruit, is Nightwing.

Nightwing does not seem like the most interesting new recruit, since he is a human surrounded by people that can absorb nukes or kings of the seas. However, Nightwing piqued their interest, because rumors of him go way back.

Upon meeting the man, they realize this kid has been in the business for a long time, first popping onto the scene about eight years ago. Bar Batman, he’s been doing this the longest.

“Man, how come I never heard of you until recently?” Flash exclaims. He and Nightwing have hit it off right away. “You’ve been doing this for so long, rumors must have started to seep out at some point.”

“Nah, I wasn’t really considered a hero until like a year or so ago,” Nightwing shrugs easily, leaning back in the other monitor chair. “For the first two years, I was a rumor made up by criminals, then I was a good for nothing, punk vigilante that was on the wanted list for the next three years. By then you guys got onto the scene and heroes truly became a topic in a positive way, so they became a little more open to my meddling. Though they still don’t trust me entirely. Now we’re here.”

“Wait, they still don’t trust you?” Flash asks.

“No, course not, it’s Blüd,” Nightwing laughs as if that’s funny. “You can’t trust anyone there. It’s a shithole of a shithole. I’m not a hero, Flash, I’m a vigilante. Huge difference.”

“Ugh, you sound like Batman,” Flash complains. “Wait, aren’t Blüdhaven and Gotham like super close to each other?”

“Yeah, why do you think it’s such a shithole?” Nightwing jokes, though everyone has already learned the hard way that he’s the only one, who can joke about his city like that. They’re pretty sure Aquaman still feels the bruise. For a human, he sure can pack a punch.

“Did you two work together? Before the League? Or, like, even before heroes?” Flash asks, rapid speed as his excitement grows.

“Our cases overlapped sometimes,” Dick says, deciding it’s not technically a lie, because Nightwing didn’t want Batman nosing around in his city until recently and Robin doesn’t really count. “We knew of each other, shared information sometimes.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine what baby Batman must have been like,” Flash says, a little awed.

“Probably a lot stupider than we think,” Dick snorts, still remembering when Bruce took him in only two years after he himself had started running around in kevlar.

Right now, he’s kind of sad that he made Bruce promise to let him be in the League on his own, because otherwise he could share some embarrassing stories with Flash – or Wally, the man’s secret identity wasn’t too hard to figure out – but he can’t do that without revealing Robin and that can’t happen.

Robin is still an unconfirmed rumor. There are a lot of reports about him, but the switches in Robins that have been going on made them all so widely different that no one trusts them. And no pictures have been leaked. Babs is very good at what she does.

Out of the Gotham’s vigilante population, Robin is the only known one in the streets and under the rogues in Arkham. All the other birds and bats – save Signal, the stubborn day shift – are pretty unknown and Batman likes to keep it that way.

He and Cass, Jason too technically, are the only ones, who are proper adults now and the world has changed drastically from when they were kids.

Dick might frown on B’s paranoia most of the time, but it’s no longer just the creeps in Arkham they have to worry about. It’s the anti-hero mentality that is popping up alongside the support, the people with grudges on a larger scale that are trying to find weak spots to get back at heroes that stopped them or couldn’t save them, magic that could control their allies and turn them against them, along with all the ones they love.

The world isn’t safe and anonymity makes his baby siblings a little better protected.

Of course, he’s not going to sit there and say the world was safe when he ran around in short shorts and bright colors. The fact that he was out there in the first place spoke to that. However, it seems like the world was at least smaller then, the harms more manageable. Vigilantes less known, with smaller targets on their backs.

So, he just laughs at the young Batman hypotheticals Wally comes up with as they continue to shoot the shit and watch over earth from high above. Almost like a rooftop, but on a much larger scale. B definitely came up with that one.

And so the Justice League evolves with the new heroes in it, while Nightwing and Batman masquerade as strangers to protect their family.

However, before Dick was Nightwing, he was Robin and it is hard to hide years of working alongside each other with only the other one as backup. Even Barbara came later. At the start, it was just them and that’s hard to forget.

Bruce tries to hide it, putting Dick on different teams, knowing he is capable of leading them, and scheduling different training days for them, as well as trying to stay out of his way as Dick establishes himself among their allies.

But avoiding each other entirely is suspicious too. Besides, it’s unavoidable sometimes. They have skill sets that compliment each other well, it’s natural that they get assigned together, especially when it’s a stealth mission.

Still, they maintain a professional distance. They’re coworkers, whose styles mesh well, but who aren’t particularly close.

And so time passes and the world changes more.

Cass is making a name for herself in Hong Kong, Jason is running around with his Outlaws, while Tim has joined the Teen Titans (under the guise that his name is merely an homage to the Robin rumors from his hometown, where he doesn’t operate) and Steph is striking out with the Birds of Prey.

Only Damian and Duke, the babies of the family, are safe in Gotham – for as far Gotham is safe. And even then, it’s really only Damian, whose existence is still rumor. Signal runs around in broad daylight, the first confirmed connection to the Bat.

A connection, they observed, that has protected him thus far. Not harmed.

Sure, they all know the risks of being a vigilante, but there is no more anonymity keeping them safe. Robin is starting to be believed in more and more, vague images floating around with increased cameras on the streets and all the others have been spotted outside of the context of Gotham. Maybe it is time.

Maybe, telling the world that these people fall under the protection of Gotham’s Legend. Of the first hero – though he doesn’t use the term himself – that ever graced the world. Of the man that is still here, no matter what life throws at him.

Maybe that will be safer than having them be lone vigilantes out in the wind, ready to be taken out by any wannabe villain trying to make their mark.

Red Hood has always worn a bat on his chest, but most considered it a mockery (as it was intended at the time). However, when more and more start to appear, people take it more seriously.

Like, Orphan, who patrols the street in her Black Bat get up that she usually dawns in Gotham, Red Robin, who introduces Robin to the Teen Titans – thus also the world – confirming his existence and tying them both to the Bat, while Steph finally takes on the mask of Batgirl full time.

It’s a perfect plan that goes off without a hitch.

Sure, there is a small explosion online as people learn how many vigilantes patrol Gotham and Gothamites start to share old tweets that were conspiracy theories at the time or their own experiences with the newly revealed vigilantes.

Within the hero community people are surprised to see just how many vigilantes Batman trained, though only Dick hears about that, since Bruce avoids the Watchtower like the plague afterwards.

Naturally, Dick reports gleefully about all the wild shit he’s heard in the halls of the Watchtower to his siblings with grandeur.

Like that first time back on the Watchtower after the reveal. Wally zooms up to him in the middle of the cafeteria area, saying: “Did you see about all the Batman children popping up everywhere?”

“Of course,” Dick snorts, because why the hell would he not have?

“Did Batman, like birth them all? What do you think?” Wally asks breathlessly, obviously it’s been eating at his mind.

Before Dick can reply, Diana interrupts: “I did not know Batman was a sculptor, gifted by the Gods.”

“What?” both Dick and Wally reply, confused.

“His children,” Diana says, her tone giving away that she thinks they should understand that. When it becomes clear they don’t, she expands: “My mother brought a lump of clay before the Gods. She shaped me and breathed life into me. I assumed Batman had done the same, is that not so?”

It’s quiet for a moment as they process what the Amazonian princess just said. Then it takes every ounce of Dick’s training to say straight faced as he explains that humans don’t reproduce that way, while Wally just fails and breaks down in laughter.

By the time Diana understands, Hal has joined them, having wandered over to find out what they hell was happening over there.

He asks: “Spooky really had a bunch of kids? Somehow I can’t imagine him with a baby, like did he have batdiapers made?”

Amused Dick thinks about the last time he saw B hold a baby. Definitely better with kids older than four. So, he shakes his head and says: “Nah, he adopted.”

“That makes sense,” Wally agrees.

“So, he just found a bunch of highly competent kids?” Hal says, not buying it. “I mean, where would he even get them?”

Dick starts laughing immediately, because this has always been his favorite joke to make. However, his laughter prevents him from speaking, so for a second he looks insane, then he gleefully chokes out: “T- the- the circus!”

Wally punches his shoulder and says: “Don’t be a dick,” with an amused voice.

Naturally that only sends Dick into a further spiral and he can’t explain, both because he’s still laughing and because he doesn’t actually want to give their secret identities away. They’ve luckily changed topics by the time he’s gotten himself under control.

All in all, it is a win for once. No organization breaks out of the shadows to target them all and the hero community doesn’t suddenly turn against them. The only thing they forget, is that they never mentioned that Nightwing is also a Bat associate.

Dick has always tried to make Nigthwing outside of his association with the Batman, moving to a city and picking a theme and name far from Batman’s influence.

Bruce has learned over the course of many fights to respect that. And he values his relationship with his son enough that he does, especially when being protective – a thing all of them have at some point referred to as being overbearing.

So, when they’re talking about tying everyone to the Batman, they don’t think to make a plan for Nightwing too. Dick is a Bruce’s son and he’ll always help when Gotham needs it, but Nightwing is Blüdhaven’s vigilante, helping the Bat, but standing on his own.

Besides, he is a part of the Justice League like Batman is, they already know him. He doesn’t need to be revealed to them, he is them.

It’s a silly mistake. More an oversight than a mistake, really. And the good news, is that it doesn’t matter that much. The bad news, is that they don’t realize they’ve made the oversight until they’re in the Watchtower and it’s too late.

Bruce has finally decided everything died down enough that he can show his face again without being overrun. However, as an extra buffer, he has assigned himself monitor duty with Dick.

Sadly, Dick is a more social person than Bruce and he regularly shows up a little early so he can chat with whoever is there, before settling down at the monitors. So, if he wants to use Dick as a human shield – Bruce prefers social interaction lighting rod – then he’ll have to act now, use Dick as a distraction so he can sneak to the observation deck.

So, he travels with Dick to the Watchtower, the two of them appearing together as they discuss the latest drug smuggling case Dick has been working on. It’s been keeping him busy, so he hasn’t been on the Watchtower in a bit.

When they get to the cafeteria area where most heroes gather, Bruce stays half a step behind Dick, hoping one of his friends will spot him and he can make his escape. However, instead it seems like a few have stayed behind when they saw Batman was on duty just to talk to him.

“Batman,” Diana greets with a smile, coming his way as more people spot him. Curse you, Diana, for being earnest and nice enough that Bruce would feel bad disappearing on her.

“Wonder Woman,” he replies. Then he adds: “Flash,” because the man has come their way as well.

“Heya, Bats, Nightwing,” Wally greets. “Surprised to see you up here, finally decided that you couldn’t hide out in your cave forever? Or did the kids push you?”

Dick snorts at that and Bruce sends him a glare, not reacting. Clark is making his way over as well and he is not looking forward to that. No use in already embarrassing himself.

Clark reaches them, right as Diana smiles: “Yes, your children, Batman. I wanted to congratulate you on the fine warriors you’ve raised. Green Lantern showed me videos of their valor in battle, you must be very proud.”

“Hn,” Bruce grunts. Obviously he is proud of his kids, but he barely knows how to tell them that, he doesn’t know how to even begin this conversation.

“Come on, Batman,” Clark joins the conversation. “You can’t be quiet about them forever. We want to know about them, about you. They all popped up at the same time, it had to be coordinated, knowing you.”

“Yeah, man, brag a little,” Wally both teases and encourages.

Bruce only feels cornered now. He loves his kids and as Brucie he has no trouble bragging about them, knowing what to say and meaning every words of it.

He wants to tell them about Damian’s last art exhibit, how well Tim has been dealing with his vigilante life and the company, how well Steph has been doing in her classes and how much good Jason and Cass have been doing out on their own. He wants to tell them about how well Duke has been settling in at the Manor and in the family, how much Barbara has been helping the community from the library and how Dick has been making such a difference in Blüdhaven.

However, immediately, he shuts all those thoughts down. He made their connections known to protect them and every detail he gives away to these people, can only put them in danger again.

Of course he is also proud of their vigilantism, but talking about that, might show weaknesses, things they had to grow in. And that is also dangerous. Having them be mysteries is how he has always protected them, he doesn’t know how to be proud without the possibility of hurting them hanging over his head.

Fortunately, Dick doesn’t leave him hanging and serves as the social interaction lighting rod, Bruce hoped he’d be.

After a beat, Dick smiles widely and slings and arm around Bruce. He pulls him closer as he easily says: “Don’t worry about his grumpy exterior. That was his proud grunt. You learn to understand him. Right, B?” then he tugs on the cowl ear, something he has always done.

Bruce lets a small smile slip at that, because unlike what some people think, he does try to be a person sometimes. Like, Dick. Dick knows, which is why he squeezes his shoulder for a moment, a quiet support.

The moment is broken by the three around them, loudly wondering different things: “B?” “Since when are you so buddy-buddy?” “I did not know you were so close.”

Both startle back at the sudden explosion of noise, then look confused at the three heroes, aware of the eyes of everyone suddenly on them, before looking back at each other.

“What do you mean, B is my-” Dick starts, before suddenly realizing something. He turns to Bruce with wide eyes as he says: “Oh my god, we totally forgot to mention that you’re my dad too.”

“Hn,” Bruce says again, hating when it is shown that he’s not infallible, but human. Very human compared to the supers they surround them with.

Around them, it seems like everyone has fallen silent for a second. Busy comprehending. Then there is a repeat of before, with everyone falling over themselves to ask questions. They do so loudly and overlapping with each other, years of press conferences has taught both to stay quiet until they’ve sorted themselves out.

As expected, everyone quiet down after a bit when there are no immediate answers forthcoming. A reporter at heart, Clark pounces in the silence: “We never found any ties between Nightwing and Batman, not even going years back. How did you hide that?”

Dick laughs a little sheepishly: “I was going through my rebellious phase when I first started out, I didn’t want any of B’s interference when setting out on my own.”

“Wait, but if you didn’t start out together, then how did you get good? Did you get a vigilante starter kit or something?” Hal asks, coming over and dropping any pretenses that he hadn’t been eavesdropping.

“No, course not,” Dick snorts. “I was the first Robin. Got all my training before I even started with Nigthwing. B here had already taught me everything he knew.”

“Hn,” Bruce interjects.

“Well, practically everything,” Dick amends. “But I also learned stuff from some other people that he doesn’t know. So, same difference in the end.”

“Haven’t you been Nightwing for the past eight years, dude?” Wally asks, confused.

“Yeah? So?” Dick replies, because he has. He doesn’t know what that has to do with the conversation.

“How freaking old are you then?” Wally exclaims.

“I’m twenty-six,” Dick says.

Clark looks between them, then asks Bruce: “May I know how old you are then? Should you still be doing this?”

Bruce glares at him and says: “I’m thirty-eight, Superman. Not ancient.”

“Wait, thirty-eight? That’s only twelve years apart,” Wally quickly calculates.

“That is way too young to have a kid, Bats,” Hal whistles, a bit disturbed.

“I didn’t become his father when I was twelve, Lantern,” Bruce grouches, already dreading the next two hours that he’s going to be stuck here.

“Oh, yeah, adoption,” Hal says apologetically, cringing slightly at himself.

“Is that too young?” Diana asks, innocently.

“Yes, way too young,” Bruce grits, before anyone else can answer her.

“Uh-huh,” Dick nods. Then he suddenly says: “Twelve years. I never thought of it like that. Are we really that little apart? You seem so old in my memories, but that’s even less than me and Little D.”

“Well, I imagine perception warps things,” Bruce says. “A twenty-one year old must seem like quite the adult when you’re nine.”

“I suppose.”

“Okay, so you were adopted when you were nine?” Wally says. “When did you start being Robin. I know the current one is like twelve or some shit, but nine is way too young to be running around fighting crime.”

Neither Dick nor Bruce respond to that, both giving each other a glance. Their lack of response tells everyone there enough.

“What the Hell, Batman – pardon my French,” Clark exclaims. “A lot of us have sidekicks, but to start training someone that young. And without precedence?”

“To send a child onto the battlefield is frowned upon,” Diana agrees, more echoing her disapproving look.

Again, Bruce feels cornered. He has never been comfortable with his kids putting themselves in danger. G-d, knows he isn’t, especially after Jason.

However, if he hadn’t equipped them and trained them, they would have been out there anyway and that would have been way more dangerous. But to explain that, feels like giving excuses, when he knows it isn’t a great thing to be doing.

Dick steps in again, diffusing by saying: “Hey, hey, lay off him for a bit. It’s not like he had much of a say in it. If I hadn’t become Robin, I would’ve committed murder at nine and spend the rest of my days in juvie.”

Record scratch. Pause.

Another silence.

Another explosion.

The loudest among them is Wally, who is arguably Nightwing’s best friend and thought he knew the guy pretty well before this, exclaiming: “What the hell, man.”

This time, it is Bruce, who steps in for Dick. He says: “We have all been in dark places and bad stuff has happened to all of us. Let’s not judge a kid, who just suffered a loss. It was a temporary anger, you’ve all seen the kind of hero he is, the type of man he has become.”

A beat of silence passes, before Dick jokes: “See, told you that was his proud grunt,” though Bruce can hear the layer of emotion he attempts to hide with it.

Luckily the others drop it too, letting the moment pass. Wally just says: “Damn, just when I think I’m getting to know you, you’re just another mystery.”

“I’m like an onion,” Dick smiles. “Layers.”

Wally groans as Hal says: “Really? Shrek?” which launches them into a discussion about the movie and its merits.

Meanwhile, Bruce is getting pinned by Diana and Clark, they gazes preventing him from walking away.

“You didn’t say anything about being related to Nightwing when he was voted in,” Clark comments.

“I voted for him,” Bruce replies.

“You know that is not the same, Batman,” Diana says kindly.

“Nightwing is his own vigilante,” Bruce says. “He has worked hard to come out from my shadow. I trust him to make it on his own. My vote was based on his work, just like it always will be. It’s not like I didn’t vote for anyone else.”

“Hm, maybe,” Clark agrees. “But you’re keeping secrets.”

“I always have,” Bruce shoots right back.

“About your identity, we can respect that, but Clark is right,” Diana says. “This isn’t just your private life, this also impacts us. Your other kids aren’t in the League, but Nightwing works with us. We would have liked to know. Can you imagine if we learned about it, because something happened to you out there? Or vise versa?”

Bruce doesn’t like to think about anything happening to Dick, but he can imagine the reverse wouldn’t have been very pretty. “Hn.”

Clark says: “You’re allowed to keep secrets, Batman, we won’t force you. But haven’t we proven ourselves to be your friends? You can let us in. Keep us in the loop.”

Precisely because they are his friends, they can become a danger. People close to him are the ones that will be used to target him, he can’t just risk his kids like that. However, he doesn’t think having that conversation will help, so he says nothing once more.

Diana sighs at that, a bit defeated, making a little bit of guilt churn in his gut (though not enough to risk giving anything away).

Clark asks: “At least tell us if you’re hiding another kid somewhere.”

“I will,” he says, because it is the least he can do. Though he mentally adds the caveat; if it is relevant for the job. He tries to ignore the stab in his heart when Clark and Diana give him a big grin in response.

Before he can give it further thought, the conversation is interrupted by Dick, who calls out: “Get a move on, B. We still have monitor duty.”

He is smiling, surrounded by his friends. Friends he made on his own. He looks happy. Confident. A good young man. One that stands on his own, yet knows he’s not by himself. Bruce can’t find it in him to feel guilty about giving Dick the space to become that person. Not when they both had to grow as people to get there.

They were the first two costumed vigilantes the world knew, even if they haunted the shadows for most of their time as a duo. The two of them are older than heroes. Older than the League. They have enough experience to asses the risks themselves.

Besides, Bruce can privately admit that everyone’s reactions have been kind of funny. He’s sure Dick and his other kids agree. If he knows them well enough, they’re probably watching on a feed Barbara pulled up, laughing at them and gathering more blackmail. Maybe he’ll do it all again, if he ever adopts another kid.

Though, he doesn’t let any of that show, just keeping his face neutral as he goes to join Dick for their monitor duty.

He hears Hal whisper: “Teach me how you got away with saying that,” and knows it’s going to be a long two hours.

~~

A/N:

I know the timeline doesn’t make sense, especially with Nightwing as a name, but my fic my rules. This is more to be funny than to actually have a conversation with canon xp

[evilwickedme]

A question that a lot of Jason Lives AUs try to answer is what does Jason actually become later on?

The easy and most boring answer is that he still gets traumatized by the Joker and still decides to become Red Hood. Just because this is a boring answer doesn't make your fic a boring fic, don't @ me, just saying it's the simplest one and doesn't require a lot of thought.

One I see a lot is Jason becoming the Flamebird to Dick's Nightwing. I like this fine, but the whole point of Nightwing was that Dick found an entirely new identity for himself outside of Batman, and I feel like having Jason's arc go from defining himself as Batman's sidekick to defining himself as part of Nightwing's story ain't it.

I've seen some people attempt to come up with other names. I like Phoenix, especially if the story still includes Jason being traumatized by the Joker but not dying, because it's about his own personal journey. Like that name means the exact opposite of what Red Hood means. Red Hood is about defining himself through the man who murdered him; Phoenix, instead, can be about defining himself despite or against what happened to him. Both approaches make sense for the story they take place in (or hypothetically take place in).

Something I don't think I've seen is Jason just... staying Robin? Like I remember reading that when DC comics revisited Earth Two (the original DC universe) it turns out that Dick never stopped being Robin, even when he became an adult, and I think that in a way that would actually make a lot of sense. I think Jason is the only batfam member who didn't choose the vigilante life but rather found himself in it. Not that he didn't take to it like fish to water, but between eight year old Dick running off to kill Zucco and baby Damian trying to kill Tim over the Robin mantel, all the other members of the batfam actively chased this life, while Jason joined the WayneFam first and foremost and became Robin because Bruce was Batman.

So since Jason does enjoy being a vigilante but isn't actually motivated to it naturally, I can see a reality where he just... stays Batman's sidekick, eventually graduating to full adult partner, but keeping the Robin name. He might protect Crime Alley more than Batman does, but overall maybe in this universe nothing really truly terrible happened to him. He might've gotten angry and frustrated with Bruce, but they worked through it and had a better relationship for it. Even Dick eventually gets over his issues and sees how Good Jason is, that he just wants to help. They'll never be close, but they start becoming a family.

You can have this au never include Tim at all and that would work, or maybe he steps in specifically because he sees Jason and Bruce having issues and just wants to see his heroes to get along. Maybe even then he doesn't become a vigilante; Bruce and Jason like having him around, and they're not going to stop keeping an eye on him when he knows their secret identity, but he doesn't ever really need to put on the pixie boots, so he doesn't. He's good with computers, though, and he gets along well with Barbara, so eventually he gets a mask and some little codename and he helps with Oracle duties.

Cass is Cass. She's more dedicated to the cause than to Batman, but also Jason is a great little brother, joyful and supportive. They both understand the need for violence and both have witnessed immense suffering and death. In a world where Jason is still Robin, Cass and Jason get along so well. Jason is patient with her and her words, and she likes listening to him read his favorite books aloud to her.

In a world where Jason is still Robin, he doesn't get hit by Spoiler's brick, but he finds it incredibly amusing that she tries. He advocates to add her to the team early on, and Bruce isn't seeing a dead kid when he looks at her and hears her Alley accent, he just sees his son, his partner, and he feels this urge to protect her. Bruce trains her, and she has the same sense of humor as Jason, and she meets Tim when he's just hanging out in the Cave, and she meets Cass because Cass still Lurks sometimes, and she just seems to fit right in, you know?

And then Damian shows up, and instead of dealing with a sixteen year old who's still insecure about his position in the family, he's dealing with an almost twenty year old who has this large support group and friends and family and also is way bigger than this tiny assassin who just tried to stab him. He doesn't love the fact that the little gremlin thinks that he can just take Robin away from Jason, but he understands coming from a life of violence, and he can understand thinking that being Robin and being Bruce's son come hand in hand.

I don't know enough about Duke to know how he'd come into the family in this au, but I know that Jason and him get along just fine in the comics, so it seems to me that a Jason that isn't even as angry and hurt as canon!Jason would get along with him even better. He probably thinks Duke's powers are the shit, and empathizes with him over his parents, even though it's not the same.

Anyway I just spent like forty minutes writing this au out and I'm (probably) never going to write a fic for it so uhhhh yeah idk I'll end this here for now

[lazaruspiss]

New Gotham: Part Two

Sacred Martyr Church: The Sacred Martyr Church has contributed a lot to the community. For the past twenty years, it has provided hot meals to people in need and is sometimes converted into a homeless shelter when other shelters are at capacity. Food drives are organized here multiple times a year. It's where I had my first charity event for the Wayne Foundation after I became CEO of the organization. Thanks to Alfred's guidance, it was a success. It has since become a yearly event. Eight years ago, I organized a donation drive, which was interrupted by an attack by Killer Moth. Because I was hosting the event at the church, Dick had to take down Killer Moth by himself so I could preserve my secret identity. He did very well.

S.K. Animal Shelter: The animal shelter was built in the 80s and was in pretty bad shape when I visited it for the Wayne Foundation. It only occupied the first floor of the building and didn't have enough room to house all of the rescues. I made a few donations to expand the shelter and the services it offers, though I'm not the only patron. Apparently, there is a young woman who visits the cats every week, and always donates food and money before leaving. Because of this, the shelter now has four full-time veterinarians, a physical therapy department and grooming rooms. I've since made it a tradition to donate to the shelter every year. Alfred, Dick and I eventually ended up adopting our own dog, Ace. He lived with us at the manor for many years until Julia brought him with her to England where he's currently living out his older years.

Split Pea Catering: This is one of the most popular catering companies in Gotham City. I've done business with them on multiple occasions in the past, especially for fundraising events. They hire over a dozen chefs and provide job opportunities for ex- convicts. They also offer food and services to various soup kitchens around the city. The owner's dog, Kylie, has become the company's official mascot. She accompanies her owner when delivering food to soup kitchens and brings a lot of happiness to the citizens of Gotham. She even received the Gotham Medal of Valor for her contributions to the city. She was the first dog ever to be awarded that honor.

I remember that dog! Bruce had hired Split Pea Catering for one of his parties at the manor and there was Kylie, dressed to the nine with her medal and everything! - T. D.

St. Aloysius Church: St. Aloysius is one of the oldest churches in the city. It was built in 1693 using rocks mined from the North Gotham hillside, which were provided by Wayne Mining, one of Wayne Industries' oldest branches. It's one of the only buildings in Otisburg that hasn't been modernized or replaced. Oswald Cobblepot tried to buy it multiple times to demolish it and build a new Cobblepot company headquarters in the district, similarly to Wayne Tower and Foxteca. Petitions were signed to preserve St. Aloysius church, and after Oswald's fourth purchase attempt, the city declared it a historical site. The nuns of St. Aloysius are also known to take in strays and organize adoption events at the church. I'm pretty sure Catwoman met many of her feline friends there.

[itsautophile]

Joke Conspiracy

AO3

Usually when Batman revealed to people he had found out their secret identity they either consciously or unconsciously responded with shock. Sometimes a full body act and sometimes just a flash in their eyes, there was always that one moment of shock. Then they either tried to deny it or just admitted and the conversation moved on from there.

At seventeen year’s old Fenton’s response of shock followed by horror was normal and average. An understandable response if one were to remember how Phantom was a ghost and with the Ani-Ecto Acts considered an animal to be hunted for study in some lab at best. It reminded him a bit of Clark.

“Wes must never find out, Batman is a “Fenton is Phantom” conspiracy theorist.”

That was new.

A notification sound came out of the teen’s phone.

“Listen, Mr. Batman,”, said Fenton while looking at his phone, “usually I would laugh at you but I get the feeling you want a serious response. So. Go on YouTube and look up an account called SuckitWes. There is only one video uploaded on it with the name “A response to the Fenton is Phantom theory”.” He was typing a message on his phone. Once he finished he put it back in his pocket.

“My sister is waiting for me. Bye.”

And Batman didn’t follow him.

                                  Whatever Jason expected to find once he returned to the cave wasn’t this. Tim was unconscious in the med bay which, taking into consideration the idiot’s terrible sleeping habits and the fact he had woken from fifteen hours of nonstop sleeping only eight hours ago, meant he was either knocked out or drugged. Dick was sitting to the side staring at the bottom of what Jason hoped was a cup full of coffee and not alcohol. Bruce was sitting in front of the computer. On the screen there was a paused video of Fenton wearing a top hat and a fake mustache.

“Master Jason.”

“Alfred, what happened?”

“Master Bruce confronted Mister Fenton with his theory of him being Phantom. Mister Fenton responded by directing him to the video which is currently paused on screen. Apparently the “Fenton is Phantom” is a conspiracy started by a boy with the name Wes Weston and it is considered by many as a joke. Mister Fenton a few years ago decided to post his own counter evidence in the video.”

He didn’t expect that. Or well he didn’t expect there to be counter evidence to that theory. As far as Jason was concerned it was fairly obvious the kid was Phantom, especially after the entire “I am ecto contaminated.” ordeal with the kid’s blood.

“So? Burce Wayne being Batman is also a joke conspiracy and yet here we are.”

“The counter evidence was so damning, Master Tim came to the conclusion sleep deprivation is affecting his thinking ability and decided to work on better sleeping habits which is why he is in med bay right now. Master Bruce and Master Dick on the other hand are confronting the realization no one in this family will get the “World’s Greatest Detective” title this year. We haven’t told Master Damian yet.”

Ah. It was that bad.

As if to emphasize what Alfred said Bruce unpaused the video.

“-and with that we have finished the second part of my evidence called “Ghost hunting technology reacts very differently between Phantom and I”. The third and last part is called “History”. Let’s start with Phantom. Research shows he has been around since at least Roman times-“

Oh, it was really bad.

                     On the other side of the city Danny read the comments on his latest twitter post.

Notphantom @nasanerd

I would like to let the entirety of Amity Park know I found “Fenton Is Phantom” theorists in Gotham.

TFfor @toofine

Lol what?

Herbwitch @sammanson

Will you ever be free of @WesWeston’s madness?

Dash @sportsnut

@phantomgirlfriend @staronearth @thatoneasianguy

Look at this

shine bright like a @staronearth

@WesWeston you are infecting the rest of the world

FENTON IS PHANTOM @WesWeston

One day the truth will be revealed

[uncpanda]

Secret Identity: Part 2

Prompt: Ten years ago you gave up being a superhero to fight crime within the law. You left behind your powers, weapons, and best friends and joined the FBI where you flourished. Now part of the illustrious BAU everything is going fine until the identities of every superhero are revealed in exchange for the world not being destroyed. Now your two, very separate worlds are colliding, and you’re not a hundred percent sure where you belong. 

AN: This is based on the season 2 episode 21 episode Open Season, just moved further up to when Dave is there, around the same time as the Alaska episode, cause there’s going to be some fun with that as well.

Pairing: Platonic across the board. Found family story. 

Master List 

His left fist connects with your gut just as you dodge his right on going for your face. It’s tempered enough to not do any real damage, but it’s still going to leave a bruise. You drop into a squat and then use the muscles in your legs to launch yourself forward and through your opponents legs, where you keep your momentum going into a somersault and then onto your feet, giving you just enough time to spin your body, capture the arm reaching for you, and use your body weight to lift him up and over your shoulder and pin him on the ground. In the next second you're straddling his legs and have his arms pinned above his head.

“What the hell is the FBI teaching you?” 

You grin down at Dick, “Mainly how to take out bad guys.” 

He scoffs, “You’ve been doing that since you were eight.” 

“Not legally?” You release his wrists and sit back on your heels, as he groans, and shifts his weight to a sitting position. That leaves you basically sitting on his lap, and you’re sure to anyone else, it would like you’re a couple, but anyone who knows better would just say it’s normal. Dick Grayson is your brother in all but blood, and even the thought of kissing him is enough to kill your libido for at least a week. But you don’t say that outloud, because despite feeling EXACTLY the same, it wounds Dick’s pride ever so slightly. 

You push off the ground and onto your feet before holding out a hand to Dick. He takes it and stands with an oomf. “Why the hell did we do this again?” 

You scoff, “It was your idea, remember? You called me at three am, a week ago, when I was in the middle of catching a serial killer?” 

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“You were worried you were losing muscle tone and your fighting skills since you work for Bruce now and not the force?” 

His brow furrows, “Are you sure you aren’t thinking of Wally?” 

You cross your arms against your chest, “You woke Dawn up, and she yelled at you for bugging me while I was at work and for waking her up. So you ended the call and started texting?” 

His grin is the same as when you were kids, “It’s coming back to me. Thanks again for doing it. Sometimes, I feel like I’m losing my mind working in a boardroom, and with the secret identities out, we’re not able to hit the streets like we used to.” 

You take a swig from your water bottle before responding, “No big deal. I love working out with the team, but they never quite take it far enough for my liking?” 

“You mean they stop before bruises can happen?”

You choke on the next sip of water and go into a coughing fit, “Yeah. . . .there’s something wrong with us.” 

He shrugs, “Let’s blame it on Bruce and Ollie and call it a day.” 

You’re just about to respond when your phone buzzes. It’s Garcia. 

“Got a case?” Dick’s voice is envious. 

“Yeah. Got to go Boy Wonder!”

He waves you off, “Kick some bad guy ass for me.” 

You sprint towards the edge of the training room, and grab your go-bag and your work bag. You had planned to get some time in with your bow, but that plan was gone now. You leave the training room, and pause for just a second to look out the windows of the station. No matter how many times you had been up here, seeing Earth from space never failed to make you catch your breath. You shake yourself out of your stupor and head to the zeta tubes. 

You’re deposited into an alleyway just a few blocks away from public parking, and head towards your car. You make it to the bureau in record time, still dressed in your workout gear. The only other people who are already there are Morgan and Hotch. They both stare at you.

You set your things down on your desk, “I know, I look like a mess.” 

Derek nudges you, “You look like you’ve been in a fight.” 

“Close. I was sparring with Dick.” 

Hotch’s brow knits together, “And that causes bruises?” 

“Sometimes. We . . . we weren’t taught to hold back as kids. We learned later on how to adjust attacks to make sure we didn’t land anything too harmful. We tend to fall back into that when we spar.” 

Derek squints, “So, what I’m hearing, is you’ve been holding back in the gym.” 

Your lips twitch, but you don’t confirm it, even though it’s true. You’ve gone up against literal assassins, and aliens, and superheroes. You knew how to end a fight, Dinah and the other women had made sure of that.

“I’m going to go shower and get changed.” 

By the time you come back, dressed in jeans and a sweater, the rest of the team is there. You settle in the round table room and focus on the case. The first thing you notice is the wounds. You study them for a minute as it automatically clicks. 

“They’re being hunted.” 

You interrupt Hotch when you say the words, and shoot him a look that says sorry. He waves it off, “What makes you say that?” 

“The wounds were caused by hunting arrows. A compound bow not a recurve.” 

“What’s the difference?” 

“Compound bows have small mechanical wheels, or cams, that help compound the force of a drawn bow. It means holding everything back isn’t all on you, but it’s heavier than a recurve bow.” 

Dave leans forward, “Which did you use. . . when you were. . .” 

There hasn’t been much talk about your former life as a superhero. For the most part the team has just moved on with things like normal. 

“I tend to use a recurve bow. It’s what I was taught on. But I also have training with compound bows and longbows. The big difference is that mine are handmade and designed specifically for me. They were meant to be used in a fight, and they’re worth . . . a lot of money because of the tech and the materials that went into them.” 

Penny leans forward, “Do you mind me asking who . . .?” 

“Mine were a collaboration between Ollie, myself and Lucius Fox over at Wayne Enterprises. I have backups stored in safe houses all over the world.” 

“Even though you’re retired?” 

“Safety procedure in case there’s an invasion or hostile takeover.”

There’s several moments of silence before Hotch asks, “Do you think you can track the person doing this?”  

“Possibly. I’ve done it before, but . . . my resources were different then.” 

Hotch gives you a look, “Which means?” 

“I had a satellite space station that could monitor the people in my vicinity, look for heat signatures and such, and hack anything I needed them to.”

He blinks, “I’m not going to touch that.” 

“Probably a good idea.” 

“Either way, do you feel comfortable bringing your own gear, just in case? Give a visual of what we’re looking at?” 

“We’ll have to make a stop on the way to the airport.”

Hotch nods, “That’s fine.”

You ride with JJ, Spence, and Hotch to your apartment, and the rest of the team, are in the car behind you. Ollie owns the building, and you have a specially outfitted penthouse. You direct Hotch to your parking spot and the other car to your guest spot. 

When you get in the elevator you punch in your security code, changed weekly, to get it up to your place. 

Morgan is the one to ask the question, “Exactly, how much money do you have?” 

“I have a trust fund, which has been carefully invested. But the building belongs to Ollie, and the apartment was a gift for when I graduated from the academy. It’s in my name.” 

The doors open and you step out into the small hallway outside your home. You open the door and usher everyone inside. There are whistles. You know you’re lucky. 

You find Prentiss and Morgan on the balcony which has an amazing view of the national mall. It’s prime real estate.

Penny is messing with your TV, and Dave is looking around your kitchen with a look of awe on his face, while Hotch is looking at your book collection. 

JJ looks at you with a grin, and says “The next team party is happening here.” before heading out onto the balcony. 

Spence is the lone man out, and you’re surprised to find him in your bedroom. He’s staring at the photos on the wall: Photos of you at the mountain with the Team, hanging out with Dick on the top of the Eiffel Tower, you on the Space Station with the League, you, Dick, and Wally in front of Titan’s Tower, a picture of you hanging out at a Bar with the BAU, you and the BAU ladies out on girls night, and a family photo of you with Ollie, Dinah, Artemis, and Roy. 

He looks at you as you sidle up next to him, “Sorry, I was being nosy.”

You shrug, “I’ve got nothing to hide from you guys anymore. Plus what we need is in here anyways.” 

“These pictures are amazing.” 

“They’re normal to me. Logically, I know my childhood was far from normal, and there was a lot of hurt, but I’ve had a chance to do some really amazing things.” 

He stares at you and points at the picture, “You’ve been to space.” 

Quietly you admit, “That’s where I was this morning. Sparring with Dick.” But you point to another photo, “But this is my favorite.” 

You’re young in the photo, maybe nine if you’re remembering correctly? You’re dressed in the armor of the Amazons and you’re surrounded by the ladies of the league, and a group of Amazon warriors. 

Dinah and Ollie had been your main parental figures growing up, but Diana Prince had been your sister. She had seen something in you, and declared you an Amazon at heart. She’s had just as much a hand in your training as Dinah. You had spent several summers on Themyscira perfecting your use of weapons and your powers until the incident. You hadn’t been back since. 

“It was taken on Themyscira, the home of the Amazons.” 

Spence’s eyes go wide, “Seriously?” You point to Diana, dressed as an Amazon and not Wonder Woman, and this time his mouth drops open. 

You hear shuffling as the rest of the teams enters your room, and Spence holds up the picture on the station, “Y/N has been to space.” 

Everyone leans in to get a look, as you walk towards the closet. “The cool stuff is in here.” 

The girls are quick to follow, and Prentiss nearly salivates at your shoe collection, “These are amazing.” She holds up a pair of heels. 

“I wore those to a Wayne Enterprise function a few years ago. They kill your feet.” 

JJ takes one, “Then let my feet die.” The guys cram in behind them, and you move the dresses at the back of the closet to the side. It looks like any other wall, but if you know better . . . ? You know the place by heart, you press the secret panel and the wall slides up revealing a large metal door. You scan your retina, press your thumb to the blood draw pin, and then enter the code. The door pops open, and you press it open. 

It’s a rather large room, and you have to stifle your smile as you step in, and Spencer nearly hyperventilates, “You have a secret lair.” 

You do let out a laugh this time, “This is not a lair. This is a closet. The batcave is a lair.” 

Dave’s head whips towards you, “You’ve been to the Batcave?” 

“No comment.” 

The inside of your closet is filled with different types of bows, quivers, and gear. Your retired suits are on display. Not your taste, but Ollie had always been proud. There’s also a computer system. 

You point out the different bows, “Compound bow, longbow, recurve bow.” You move to the arrows. “These are more traditional arrows, used for fighting. Certain ones have different hidden tricks; trackers, EMP’s, cameras, sleep gas, etc. Each one has a different weight, and requires a different type of handling when shooting.” 

Hotch is staring at you, “And the sword, knives, and shield?”

“Gifts.” 

Dave’s brow furrows, “No guns?” 

You scoff, “Guns are a no-no in the league. For the most part, so is killing.” 

You move to the computer system, and log in before sending a message to Dick about what you’re about to do. You hit send and move to another panel.

You remove highly efficient SAT phones, 100% encrypted. You toss one to Dave, one to Prentiss, and another to Hotch, “They’re more efficient and secure than what the FBI has.” 

Derek smirks, “Don’t tell Garcia that. I can’t believe she’s missing this.” 

You pull out a case, and start packing; recurve bow, and selected arrows, “We’ll bring her by after the case. For that party we’re apparently planning.” 

JJ bounces a bit, “Can I bring Will and Henry?” 

“Yep.” 

Hotch clears his throat, “And Jack?” 

You smile, “Absolutely.” 

Once everything is packed you heave it up, “Time to go boys and girls.” 

You take care to switch everything off, and lock up. You rengage the security system, and you guys head to the airport. 

The moment you’re on the jet Penny is on the comms system, “How was it? Amazing? Did Y/N let you hold anything? When can I see it?” 

Derek is openly laughing at this point, “Y/N already said you could come over the moment we get back. We’re holding a party there!” 

You get back into the case, and you read the ME’s report, as Garcia tells you there’s a new body. They’re working on identifying the exact types of hunting arrows used. When you touch down you head to the forest; a temporary headquarters has been set up there. 

It’s a four mile trek to the site of the first killing: Lily Smith. Before you head out, you settle your quiver on your back and hook your bow. You feel a comfort settle over you. 

You tune out the talking Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi are doing and listen to the sounds around you. Those are important. 

The sight is taped off, and you stand back as the rest of your group examines things. You’d seen the pictures, the hunters had aimed for the organs, but Lily’s body just confirms it. You say a prayer for the poor girl. That have some sort of knowledge of anatomy, most hunters do. You take in your surroundings; there’s a clear sight from higher ground; a fairly easy shot for those who know what they’re doing.

Lilly hasn’t been dead long, only a few hours, that might mean they’re not too far gone, but you doubt you’ll get that lucky. 

You head towards the vantage point, your eyes scanning the ground as you go. You find what you’re looking for; smushed grass, tracks in the dirt, broken branches. They’re not hiding themselves; they don’t need to, they’re the hunters in this situation. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” 

 You turn to him, “I need a better line of sight.” 

You pull gloves from your pocket, and start climbing up to the first branch. Once you’re there, it’s easy to keep climbing. You pull binoculars up to your eyes, and start searching. These ones are yours; they have heat seeking signatures, and the ability to find dead bodies. 

You nearly gag when you find three hanging down from a set of trees. Recently dead, if you had to guess. There was barely any heat left in them. You climb back down, and land in a crouch. 

The others, including the ranger have come over, “Three more bodies, in that direction. Maybe one or two miles? Something tells me they were a murder of opportunity after Lily. But they haven’t been down long.” 

The ranger is staring at you, “How did you do that?” 

You don’t answer, but you start walking in that direction. It won’t be long before it’s dark. You find the bodies, and you’re not surprised to see the same wounds. The rest of the team meets you there after an hour.

Quietly Hotch admits, “Y/N would you mind showing us, what we’re looking at.” 

You roll your shoulder, “No. But keep in mind I’m using a recurve bow, not a compound. It’s just my preference.” 

You fall into your stance with an ease that come with decades of use. You pluck out a regular arrow, and notch it to the bow. You pull back slowly, and you hold it there. The team comes in closer, studying the ways your muscles bunch, and pull. It’s hard to keep it back for this long, but you’re used to it. 

When they’re satisfied, they step back, and you allow your eyes to search for a target. You find it, a piece of shredded tent floating along in the wind. You nod towards it, giving the team just enough time to see it before you let the arrow loose. It hits dead on.

Eyes are wide, all except Hotch, instead he says, “Take us through taking a shot.” 

You go into detail about stance, sighting, picking your target, looking for wind change, and a bunch of other stuff. Finally, you say, “At this point it’s second nature. I just move.” 

“Did you ever have to shoot a person?” 

You shake your head, “Not like you think. It’s usually a gut punch, or taser, or I would graze them with a poison that would put them down long enough for us to capture them. But I was taught to avoid the areas these guys are shooting at. They’re death shots.” You can’t help but sigh, this was going to be a hard case for you.

That night, you sleep in a tree. It reminds you of your time with the Team. Back then, Dick would have been sitting in the branch next to yours, and you’d be talking about anything and everything except the mission. 

You wake up the next morning before the sun is even up. You drop out of the tree, and the bracelet around your wrist clicks against your skin. The metal is cold, and a firm reminder of what it’s keeping back. 

You look into the distance. It wouldn’t take long . . . if you contacted the station, asked Dick to do a thermal scan? You’d find them in a matter of minutes, and you could go home. But the government didn’t work like that, and you had accepted that a long time ago. 

You run your fingers against the metal. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that bracelet on?” 

You turn to look at Rossi, “Because you haven’t.” You give him a tight smile, “Remember when I said I didn’t have access to my powers?” He nods, and you tap the bracelet, “This is why. It’s a brilliant piece of technology that keeps me from accessing my powers. The only one who can remove it is Dick. He was the only one who didn’t fight me tooth and nail about putting it on in the first place. Instead he offered to be the one who helped.” 

His eyes narrow, “And the two of you, never . . . ?” 

You scoff, “Not a chance. He’s happily engaged by the way. Her name is Dawn. I’ve known her since I was in my teens. We’re best friends. We’ve been through everything together, and right now he’s having a hard time not being who he was raised to be. He’s stuck in meetings and doing business, and he’s going stir crazy. Even in his off time he was a cop in Bludhaven, he resigned when the identities were made public.” 

“Tough change. I know . . . I’ve done it.” 

“Yeah. Anyways, it’s time to catch these guys.” 

“You’ve got an idea?” 

“We’re going to turn the hunters into prey.” You lay down your plan for tracking them; they have the advantage of the woods, but you know this style of stalking, you know the mindset that goes into these weapons, you know how to track their movements. 

It’s fairly easy to slip into that persona again. Too easy. It leaves you feeling slightly uncomfortable as you lead the way through the trees. At this point, you know they’re looking for random campers, that hunting season is starting soon, and their sacred place will be overrun until it ends. They need to kill enough to feel fulfilled until then. 

You take to the trees quite a bit, looking for further signs. And then you see them, chasing after a married couple, and ready to shoot. You find your stance on the tree limb, and have the arrow out and ready in seconds. You take a second to account for the wind and then you let it fly. 

It goes right through the bastard’s hand, and the shout of pain can be heard from where you are. He won’t be able to fire another arrow. When the other approaches to check on his friend, you pick a different arrow. It’s outfitted with a net that will cling to the ground and force them down. You take a deep breath, check your sight and let it loose. You watch it hit its target. There are further shouts, and you drop back to the ground. 

“I got them. I had to shoot one through the hand. He’ll live. The other came to inspect and I have them caught under a net.” 

Prentiss does a double take, “Couldn’t they cut through a net?” 

“It’s a flexible steel, nearly impossible to cut through without the right equipment. It digs into the ground and keeps them flat. You’re going to want to get a chopper in the air to look for who they were hunting. They won’t be far.” 

You lead the way to the two hunters, and you can see the crazy in their eyes. And then they see the bow. A million questions start going off as you release the net, and start bunching it back up. You ignore their shouts. The team just looks impressed. They find the missing hikers and hour later, and thoroughly exhausted you head home. 

When you get home to your apartment, you’re not surprised to see Dick waiting for you. He doesn’t say anything. He just waits. You’ll talk when you’re ready.

You’re honest, with him, you’re always honest, “It was too easy. I started thinking in league terms, not FBI ones. I was on the verge of calling you guys just so I could find them quicker. I keep telling myself we have laws for a reason, but . . .” 

He finishes your thought for you, “It’s an addiction, like anything else. A rush that we crave. You found a way to get a controlled dose through the bureau, now your body is asking for a bigger one.You need to reign it in before you lose all access.” 

He stands and takes your weapons case, before leading you back to your bunker. You watch him gain access, and silently you watch as he puts everything where it goes. You settle in the computer chair and turn to look at the different versions of your uniform. As you had grown it had changed with you. 

Dick places a hand on your shoulder, “We’re not your team anymore. . .” You can tell it pains him to say that, “The BAU is. They have your back, and they’ve accepted everything. Be honest about this too.” 

Quietly you admit, “I’m scared Dick.” 

“Understandable.” His hand moves to your wrist, to your bracelet, “I think someone on the team needs to take charge of this. In case. . .” 

You can feel the tears well up in your eyes, and Dick smiles, “You can’t run from it forever. Eventually . . . you’ll have to embrace it. And I think the BAU is meant to help with that.” There’s a second of silence before he asks, “So who would be a good fit?” And with that, you start talking about how to further merge the worlds. 

[iphoenixrising]

The Demon You Know

Day 1 Urban Fantasy AU | Magical/Supernatural Creatures | Time Travel

So, something a little off the grid for my first day of DickTim Week 2021. Special thanks to my wonderful babe @vellaphoria for the beta and the incredible peeps on the Capes and Coffee discord (looking at you @themandylion, @strawberryjei and others). Also need to show my undying love for @chippon because babe, we are making it work.

**

When the sun creeps up over the sky in Gotham, then it’s time to GTFO. Capes in the daytime aren’t the usual for the city, and Red Robin has been playing it too late, staying out far past O’s warning to bring it in for the night. So, really, he’s only got himself to blame.

His penthouse perch has seen more use in the last few months since, welp, Gotham and the fact he likes to get away from the team mentality sometimes, like to return to his roots and run the rooftops like when he was still that Robin. His trips to the Manor had become more frequent since B was back in the cowl and things in the family seemed to be returning to some semblance of normal. 

Well, as normal as it could get, really.

But all that goodwill and positivity is literally ghost. Red’s hands are shaky and his inner calm is absolutely blown. He’s ducking into his perch to throw his suit off, grab his duffle bag full of sundries and fake idents, then he’s going to hit the airport as fast as he can get a flight the hell out of town, away from the terrifying sight.

(He should just call Bart or Kon or Cassie, tell them he needs an out faster than he can arrange it himself, he needs to get away from–)

He knows he fucked up when the slight sounds, small and metallic in nature, make it past his pulse thumping in his ears.

Like a horror flick, he slowly turns as the front door gives a groan and is pushed open by a very familiar palm.

Dick’s blue eyes fall on him like a ton of bricks, on Red Robin’s feet frozen to the floor, his suit only half on, and no way he can get far enough to throw himself out a window.

Fuck.

“So,” Dick keeps his voice soft, footsteps easy as he steps inside Tim’s penthouse and closes the door behind him, “you finally found me out.”

Keeping his mouth shut in times like this has really saved his ass before, so Red doesn’t say a word, keeps every muscle in his body ready to spring for the right second –

Watching the would-be robber struggle in Dick’s grip, watching the light show brighten overwhelmingly, seeing what had to be-had to be feeding.

“I figured it would be you if anyone, actually, so I’m not really surprised, just… disappointed.” Dick continues softly, only in jeans and a t-shirt since Nightwing was oddly missing from the patrol roster last night.

And Red is apparently the only one that knows why.

“But that doesn’t mean I can just let you go, Timmy,” Dick isn’t stopping, his whole body lax while Red is wound tight, backing away from the man he thought he knew. “I really wish you hadn’t found out like this. I...I had other plans.” 

Whirlybirds and pellets aren’t going to help him here. Hand-to-hand and martial arts, aerial acrobatics, none of it is going to make a difference. 

His throat goes dry when Dick’s eyes get more and more blue, when his former mentor doesn’t stop advancing, and Red Robin is running out of room to back away.

“I tried to save you, Timmy. I tried so hard to get you away, out of Gotham, even if you went because you thought you had to find Bruce, I’m the one that gave you the compulsion to leave.” The low laugh is edged with something desperate, “why the hell couldn’t you stay away?”

“This is my city, just as much as Batman’s. You taking my fucking cape wasn’t enough,” Red Robin bites out, back thumping against the kitchen counter, realizing Dick had backed him into the corner. “How did you keep it from him? Constantine, Zatanna, all the magic users he has on speed dial and he never figured you out? No one in the JLA or Titans did?”

That makes Dick pause.

“He never had to. He knew what my parents were before they ever died, Timmy. Haley’s Circus came to Gotham regularly. Bruce always knew.”

The information blast hits him painfully, that Bruce didn’t bother to tell him and look at where they are now.

“And he didn’t try to help you?” Red, Tim, gapes at the still silhouette that used to be someone he thought he knew like he knew himself. Someone that’s always had this secret. “He didn’t try to –”

“Cure me?” Dick’s mouth lifts in a semblance of a smile Tim knows. “There is no cure for this, Timmy. It’s what I am. What my parents both were, the curse of the Romain Bababiljos. It’s unfortunate for me both of them were cursed, that just makes the...the hunger two-fold.”

And it’s just a few more steps, a raised hand that makes Tim flinch back, but only a fingertip taps the edge of the domino, makes the whiteouts raise.

Automatically, with everything he’s learned, studied, experienced about supernatural creatures, he ducks his head so he isn’t looking directly into those eyes. That doesn’t stop Dick from bracketing Tim in, both hands on the counter, their bodies a breath apart.

Dick laughs softly, close enough for Tim to feel the breath on his face. “The Titans...I never had to tell them. By then, I could control myself, at least mostly. The JLA? I’m one of the Batman’s proteges. I’ve been fighting crime since I was eight. They believe in me. There was never a reason for any of them to look too deeply past the surface.”

“Wh-what do you mean mostly?” Tim’s heart slams in his chest, “how many people have you killed, Dick?”

“Do you have any idea how awful the hunger is?” And the lower Dick’s voice goes, the harder Tim’s heart starts to pound. “Surviving on hugs and family affection is tantamount to starvation for someone like me. It’s so easy to kill someone during sex because the hunger is so much I can’t control it sometimes. Anyone I’m with is in danger.  That’s why I couldn’t stay with Babs, she’s too human. The one time I came close–” 

Dick breathes again and all Tim looks at is the span of throat, thinking of the soft, vulnerable parts, anything he can use to get the fuck away.

“–but I didn’t. I have...willpower sometimes. I drained her so close, though. She was-was so fragile, Timmy, and I was so hungry. I’d been starving for so damn long. She was hospitalized for longer than she’d been when the Joker shot her, and I said never again. But Wally and Kory were...different. I could go further with him without killing them, I could get more full than I’d been in a long time. It was still dangerous for them, but I was so far gone by the time...”

“They’re both still alive. Babs is still alive. Does she–?”

“Remember? Of course not. None of them do. I made sure of that, Tim, so none of them would be afraid of me.”  And the air changes when Dick gets closer, his eyes get brighter, and Tim almost chokes with the almost touch to his body under his suit. “But, you are going to be different, aren’t you? I’m not going to be able to convince your mind that what you saw was a dream.”

“So what? You’re going to make me “disappear”? You’ll give Bruce some sob story about how I got tired of the vigilante life and left for college or some shit? Going to bury me where no one will ever find me?” He isn’t looking at Dick’s face, can’t see his own end coming, can’t believe he’d put all his faith and belief in this man only to have it all come to this.

Tim laughs wetly, blinking rapidly, and everything suddenly comes together. “He won’t ever come looking for me anyway. You made sure of that when you made Damian your Robin. Nice plan, Dick. No one is going to give a shit if I’m never seen again anyway.”

And it’s stupid not to at least try, not to duck and kick out, trip up whatever Dick really is, to break a window and fucking run, try to get Bruce, Clark, Kon and Bart and Cassie, to get anyone to listen to him about what Dick really is, to try to save himself.

(If you’d never figured out Dick was Robin, if you never put yourself in front of him, you’d be safe now. Miserable but safe.)

Even if it’s his own brain pan spitting this out, he knows it’s bullshit. 

If he’d never approached Dick Grayson with proof Batman was losing his mind, Tim Drake wouldn’t have reached twenty-one. The way his life was going, he would have probably hung himself long before getting to this stage in his life. If he’d never had Bruce or Alfred or Dick or Steph, if he’d never had Robin, never had Young Justice or The Titans, if he’d never had the Clench, never felt the rumble under his feet as Gotham had fallen, if he’d never had the agony of losing everyone in his life, if he’d never had the drive to prove his adopted father was alive…

The civilian Tim Drake wouldn’t have had the strength to make it through life alive.

So if this is the way he goes out, if Dick is the one that ends it for him–

There’re worse ways to go.

He’s not going to be the Joker’s next victim or Ra’s al Ghul’s heir with a mix of Lazarus Pit crazy. The HIVE, the Light, the mass of aliens he’s fought, any number of Rogue Gallery thugs, none of them will be the ones to take him out.

But this?

His career as Robin started out with Dick Grayson, so maybe...maybe it’s fitting this is the way it all ends. 

He sucks in a breath and finally tilts his head up, looks up into those electric blue eyes, and lets his breath out so so slow.

Because Dick is looking at him with watery eyes, with a grimace, with something Tim can actually recognize.

But those eyes light up in his penthouse perch, take on a supernatural glow, Dick snatching his wrists in bigger hands, pulling Tim closer, the heat getting through layers of Kevlar and Nomex. And just like that, he can’t pull away, can’t pull back.

There’s no way to defend himself when Dick pulls him in, when he expects to get his throat ripped out, his neck snapped, something important crushed, for the darkness to take over and his heart to slow down to a sad, weak pitter patter.

He can’t defend himself when Dick kisses him, opens his mouth, and stuns him into going completely slack.

“I told you,” Dick growls softly when he pulls back, bends enough to get Tim laid out over his shoulder, “I had other plans.”

But Tim can’t reply, can’t do anything other than lay across Dick’s back as the Romani love deamon strides down the hallway and kicks open the bedroom door.

**

And if Tim Drake survives until morning, shocking the hell out of the both of them, staring up at Dick’s surprised face and glowing blue eyes, if the soft touch to his jaw contrasts sharply with the bruises and red marks blossoming all over his body from an intense night with his supernatural mentor and best friend, if Dick doesn’t whisper, “finally, finally, my mate,” before kissing him. 

If the power Dick drains from him doesn’t kill him, doesn’t do more than give him the most amazing span of unending multiple orgasms to ever happen, if Dick isn’t fully satisfied for the first time in his life. If Dick doesn’t call them both off patrol for the next three nights, carts Tim back to his apartment, refuses him clothes and computers and tech, tells the Titans they’re taking a break from crime fighting while Tim is tied and gagged in his bed, sated enough to listen hazily with half-mast eyes. 

If Dick doesn’t hand feed him while he’s getting feeling back in his legs (finally) and give him the full run-down about his parents. If the strange mark on his abdomen doesn’t get warm whenever Dick’s hand is on it, fingers tracing the edges, making those blue, blue eyes dilate in possessiveness. If Tim doesn’t eventually escape with his sanity intact and a little terrified how much his body craves only to have Dick chase after him with single-minded purposes to convince him they’re meant to be.

Then only the man with cameras all over Gotham, waiting and watching with bated breath and fear for his Robins, unmitigated relief when his theory proves true, would be able to give all the details.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 54

First

Previous

~~~

The lady’s watch beeped.

Marinette grinned as she pushed herself off of the couch. She dug into her bag and handed over a wad of cash. “Thanks, Linda.”

“Of course.” She watched the woman count it and then put it in her pocket. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Nah, I’m going to see my better therapist.”

Linda rolled her eyes. “Harley lets you give in to unhealthy coping mechanisms, that doesn’t make her better.”

“Lalalalala! Not listening!” Said Marinette, ducking out the door.

“Right! Don’t forget your homework! Five more good things about yourself!”

“Oh nooooooo you’re too far away I can’t hear you!”

Linda groaned. “Ladybug, please.”

She sighed and stopped. She turned around, flashing a small smile. “Fiiiiiine, I’ll do it.”

“And they can’t have anything to do with how you help others.”

Marinette cursed. “I should have kept walking.”

“Too late! Have a good week!”

She spun on her heel and threw a wave over her shoulder. “You too!”

“And tell Red Robin to stop by!”

“Will do!”

She hummed lightly and ducked into an ally. “Spots off,” she said. She opened her jacket pocket and let Tikki fly in. She’d stopped using her purse to hold the kwami a few years back when a guy had attempted to steal it and she’d nearly given away her identity trying to get it back. Besides, she never had to open her pocket, so there was no stress when she was paying for something.

She pulled a normal yoyo from her pocket and started playing with it as she walked out the other side.

Marinette glanced up and grinned as she spotted the familiar yellow and black outfits. Signal, Orphan, and Queen Bee had recently started doing daytime patrols. Crime had dramatically decreased since, and Bruce was more than a little bitter that he hadn’t thought about it.

She gave a tiny wave and grinned when they sent some of their own. Marinette had given up on trying to keep the fact that she was friends with pretty much every vigilante in Gotham a secret. It turns out you don’t have to worry about people coming after you to hurt your powerful friends when they are, in fact, afraid of said powerful friends.

She heard her phone go off in her pocket and grinned. Also, the publicity was amazing for her business. That was also good.

~

She grinned and opened a portal under herself, dropping into the Siren’s living room.

“Hey, darlin’,” said Harley, who was far too used to this by now to even blink.

“Kid’s here?” Asked a Catwoman from the kitchen.

“No. I was talking to the plants,” said Harley sarcastically.

Poison Ivy glanced up from watering her plants. “Hilarious. But please do, they grow better when you talk to them every day.”

Catwoman sighed. “Whatever. What do you want to eat, kid?”

Marinette plopped down on the couch. “I’m not a kid. I wasn’t even a kid when you met me.”

“Oh?”

“Yes!”

“Then why don’t you tell us your identity to prove it?”

She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Catwoman. “Do I look like I’m under eighteen?”

“Do I look like I’m older than thirty?” Catwoman retorted. When she saw the small smirk forming on Marinette’s face she quickly cut her off: “Don’t answer that.”

She huffed. “Think about it. It’s been ten years, do you really think I was eight when we met?”

“Who knows. Human kids all look the same to me.”

Marinette groaned. “I’m not -- you know what? I don’t care anymore.”

“You do, though,” cooed Harley.

A scowl made its way onto her face. “Whatever. Can I use the misty-thingy?”

Poison Ivy handed it over and Marinette spritzed Catwoman. The woman hissed and batted it away.

“I’m choosing dinner,” she said dangerously as she disappeared to the kitchen.

Marinette fought between the instincts to laugh and curse, handing the spritzer back to Poison Ivy. She rested her head on Harley’s lap and smiled to herself as the woman started to braid her hair.

“We still on for that raid on Sunday?” Asked Poison Ivy.

“Sure. I’ll see if I can get Red Hood to go.”

Harley laughed. “I’m sure Batman wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

“Has that ever stopped him before?”

“True, true.”

Catwoman emerged with what looked like a burnt brick. She dropped a plate of it onto Marinette’s lap.

“Eat up, kid.”

She went a little pale as she stared at the food in front of her.

“Well, you see, about that...” She opened a portal under herself and disappeared.

~

She heard a click from her earpiece and flicked it on.

“Right, found one. Looks like a normal mugging,” said Jason.

“Location?” Asked Damian.

Jason gave his general area and sighed. “Right. I’m heading in.”

She listened in on the fight as she hopped from rooftop to rooftop.

Ever since Dick had taken up the Batman mantle (Bruce had, for the most part, retired), he’d made a few changes to patrols.

The first thing he’d done was make it mandatory that they communicate when and where they were getting in fights and transmit the audio. There had been the usual amount of backlash that arises when the bats are asked to do something for their own good, but they’d stopped complaining that it wasn’t necessary when Tim had walked into the manor for coffee with a knife sticking out of his side.

(She was pretty sure that he’d done that on purpose, but whatever.)

Next, he’d set up rotations so people actually got sleep some nights. They switched between two teams. The first (and best) was made up of Jason, Marinette, and Damian. The rest of the time it would be Dick, Tim, and -- occasionally -- Bruce. Most criminals opted for nights with the second team. She never could figure out why --.

They heard the click of Jason’s gun and Dick’s voice cut in: “Don’t kill them!”

Jason scoffed. “What’re you gonna do if I do?”

“I… Mari, tell him not to kill them.”

“Jason --,” she began.

“I’ll buy you a coffee.”

“-- is a grown adult who can make his own decisions.”

She could practically feel Jason’s smirk as Dick cursed.

“Damn, why are you so easy to buy? I’ll... um…”

Bruce cut in: “I’ll build a starbucks in the room next to yours.”

Her eyes widened. “Jason, if you pull that trigger I will never talk to you again.”

“You wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

“Try me.”

There was a short silence and then the click of a safety turning back on. Jason mumbled about how it wasn’t fair, along with a lot of other colorful things.

Marinette, however, was grinning.

~

She slipped into the house and yawned.

Damian looked up from where he was petting Chaton on the couch.

She raised her eyebrows. “Not even gonna detransform?”

He sunk into his hooded jacket. “It’s comfy.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Whatever, give me my cat back.”

“He’s our cat.”

She huffed. “He’s my cat. Give him back.”

“Why don’t we let him choose?”

She scoffed lightly and crossed her arms over her chest. “Not while you’re still Kitten.”

“I told you to call me BatCat!”

“And I told you that I’d rather you beat me to death with a spoon.”

He stuck his tongue out at her and detransformed. They set the cat between the two of them and made cooing noises.

Chaton went to Damian without even sparing her a glance.

“Traitor,” she murmured.

Both of their phones went off and they checked them.

Ah. The Thesmartones chat. It included Riddler and every bat except for Dick

The partners both groaned and opened the chat.

Riddleboye: Can one of you test my new escape room?

Her phone blew up and she glanced at the different chat. Whohastodoriddlersriddlethistime.

Queenbee: Not it

Therealdamianwayne: Not it.

Bruecbrucewayne: not it

Redhoodiewastaken: not it :)

Brucesfavorite: not it

Coffeeismygirlfriendmarinetteismywife: Not it!

Imsurroundedbyidiots: Not it

She groaned when she realized she was the only one who hadn’t done it yet.

Notsleepingwasaconsciousdecision: i hate you all

Damian had the audacity to laugh. She sent him a tiny glare and kicked him in the side. He cursed and she was only saved from his wrath by the cat currently resting on his stomach.

She went back to the original chat.

Notsleepingwasaconsciousdecision: im free monday night

Riddleboye: Thanks!

Notsleepingwasaconsciousdecision: its fine see you then

~

She raised her eyebrows as she stepped into the room and saw Tim awake, clicking away at his laptop. This wasn’t exactly new (far from it, really) but it was still sometimes, somehow, surprising.

She changed into her now well-worn hoodie and crawled into bed. She picked up her newest project, a new costume for Red Hood, and started stitching.

He wrapped an arm around her and drew her close so he could type.

She rested her head against his chest. She stitched in time with his heartbeat.

Her eyes glanced over his screen and she sighed lightly. “No information yet?”

He shook his head. “Nope, still don’t know how to help lower his cortisol levels back to normal. There’s nothing on it.”

“Yeah, it’s almost as if no one else on Earth has Scarecrow’s problem.”

This earned an eye roll. He closed the many tabs on cortisol inhibitors and pulled up a spreadsheet for work. “It’s always ‘reduce stress!’ and ‘take fish oil!’ and other things that we’ve already tried.”

“Yeah, but there’s nothing else we can do. We just have to hope that his therapist can help him work through it.” She blinked. “That reminds me: Linda said that you need to see her.”

“But I don’t have to see her again until Wednesday!”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s Thurs -- actually…” She checked her phone. “Friday. It’s Friday.”

Tim cursed. “So, that’s what I forgot.”

“What, the week day or the therapy session?”

“Both.”

She rolled her eyes.

He pulled away slightly for a second to grab his drink and then handed her a coffee. “Behold. Just the way you like it.”

A blush rose to her cheeks as she took it from him. “Oh, sweetie, you shouldn’t have!”

“Don’t worry about it. I was already making some for myself and yours isn’t hard to make.”

She grinned. “It’s going to be easier to get from now on. I told you I could get Bruce to buy us a coffee shop.”

He huffed and rested his chin atop her head. “Shut up.”

“Eloquent.” She teased. “Anyways, I think I’ve achieved favorite kid status.”

Tim laughed. “Please, bean. You’re not even his favorite daughter. Remember that time he bought Cass an entire police station’s equipment?”

She rolled her eyes and set down her project so she could cross her arms over her chest. “Shut up.”

“Eloquent,” he said, a cheeky grin on his face.

She laughed and tipped her head back to press a kiss to his lips. “I’ve decided I’m getting a divorce.”

He finally set his computer down, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her onto his lap. “You wouldn’t. You love me.”

She smiled and reached up, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “I do.”

Marinette pulled him down for another kiss.

~~~

Holy shit. It’s over.

Right, I’m going to get sappy for a minute so if you don’t want that then I would like to just thank you for reading! You can stick around if you’d like and if not then I hope you have a good life! <3

Okay, now for the emotions stuff.

For context, I’ve been writing a book for the better part of three years. Writing a book is... hard. Shocking, I know. But, in all seriousness, I’m not even halfway through.

I was getting really burned out on writing, and one of my creator friends suggested I do a ‘break project’. I didn’t want to jump into another book but I wanted to keep writing, so I said ‘fuck it I’ll go back to my roots fanfiction it is’.

I’d been reading a lot of Daminette lately, so I decided to put my own spin on the ship and write a cute fluffy fanfiction of around 30k words. Ha.

But, seriously, this project has been really therapeutic for me. It’s showed me that I can actually write a decent story, that people enjoy my writing, that I don’t need to go back and change things constantly...

This was kind of supposed to be a one-time thing and then I was going to disappear, but I found myself actually enjoying writing fanfiction. 

I don’t know.

The plan is now to continue. I have another fic that I’m currently plotting out. It won’t be daily uploads, because each ‘chapter’ is going to be an arc in itself and I don’t want to rush that. I’m not going to give too much of it away, but it’s another mlb x dcu crossover so stick around if you want some of that.

Since I’m still in the planning phase and all the chapters are going to take ages, I’m opening up requests. Feel free to submit a prompt. Or ask me questions if you’d like. I’ll answer in 2-3 business months.

With love,

‘Olivia’

~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru @spicybelladonna @ultimatetornshipper @cute-angi @blu-raydisc

<3

[wordsfromthesol]

Just A Facade (2/2)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Taglist: @zphilophobiaz  @anousiemay @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial​ @somnibats Summary:  Dick is very confused that his brothers seem to all be getting along with you, and worse…wanting to help you. And wait…were you dating his brother?! Warnings:  Violence, cursing, violence...more violence  Word Count: 2.0k

You woke up in one of Jason’s t-shirts, in his old room, very confused. As you moved to get up the pain racing up your side jogged your memory. “Shit, Jason’s gunna be so pissed at me.”

“You could say that again!” You heard his voice coming from the bathroom.

You slowly made your way to the bathroom and leaned against the door frame. “It’s not like I meant to get shot Jay.”

“Yeah, well, you could have told my idiot brother when it happened.” He stepped towards you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Or even ME when you got to the cave.”

“I thought I could handle it…why was your brother there in the first place?” The question came out a little more accusatory than you meant. Jason took a step back and threw his hands in the air.

“Because, apparently, you tried to kill him last week.”

“He’s still on that? Ugh, I pulled my punches as much as I could without being glaringly obvious. Next time he shouldn’t be in the way of the actual target.”

“Maybe you should just tell him.”

“Why? He doesn’t need my life story.”

“Y/N/N…”

“Oh you’re one to talk mister come back from the dead and don’t tell anyone.”

“You didn’t even know me before I died!”

“So! I know you didn’t tell your brothers!”

“I know you’re doing this to distract me, and it’s working, but you need to tell him. He won’t trust you, and it will end up getting someone hurt on this case. And if that someone is you –” Jason’s voice trailed off.  

It was your turn to throw up your hands in exasperation. Unfortunately, you had forgotten about your recent injuries. “Agh!” You grimaced as your hand went to your side.

“See, that’s a sign that you’re being too stubborn.” Jason smirked before pressing a kiss to your lips and lifting you up. He carried you until you got to the cave, where he gently set you down, allowing you to still use him as a crutch.

**

“Y/N!” Tim exclaimed at the sight of you, “I’ve found something!” He waited for you and Jason to arrive at his side before he continued. “So, they made a mistake coming after you.”

“How do you know that was related? A lot of people want me dead…”

“Well, I didn’t at first. But then, looking through your pictures…the ones you didn’t originally give us,” Tim shot a judgmental stare your way.

“Oh you would’ve done the same thing.”

“WELL, one of them caught the van…long story short I was able to trace it back here,” Tim points at the screen, “once they left your apartment.”

“Alright, I’ll do some recon then. Come on blue bird.” You gestured to Dick.

“It’s Nightwing – wait you want me to come?”

“Well I know I’m not going to be let out of here alone, so I’d rather just hitch a ride than have one of you bozos follow me.”

“She’s not wrong.” Jason stated plainly as he tossed you a bottle of pills, “Take one before you leave, and please don’t rip my stitches.”

“I’ll try my hardest.”

**

The two of you sat in silence on the rooftop for nearly an hour. Finally, Dick couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Alright, you gunna try and kill me again, or what?” He finally blurted out, still trying to figure out why you requested him as your back-up.

“What? I never tried to kill you, calm your feathers.”

“Last week!”

“I had to make it look real…I wasn’t alone.”

“Yeah, I noticed that…”

“I know you don’t agree with my life choices Nightwing, but I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“It may not be easy, but you can get out.” Dick made the comment as if it was from personal experience.

“No.” Your voice turned somber, “I can’t. My parents decided to pay for their freedom with mine. If I leave…they’ll just take my sister. There is no out for me.” Your eyes focused on the building below, not daring to face him.

“Sister?” Dick was quickly realizing how little he actually knew about you.

“Heh, yeah. I doubt she even remembers she has one. I got her out, found her a family. She was only four…I haven’t seen her since.”

“Huh, that’s why you actually dropped the act for a minute when you presented this case. I thought you were hiding something.”

“I was. My past.”

“How old were you?”

“Six.”

Silence rang through the night, as the two of you watched the building. Taking photos and notes of all the ins and outs. Finally, the two of you decided it was time to leave. Just as you pulled into the cave, Dick asked one more question…or tried to.

“Are you and Jason…”

“I’m going to let you talk to your brother about that one.” You interrupted his thought before scurrying out the door.

**

“Well, what did you find?” Tim eagerly awaited for another piece of the puzzle to fall into place.

“Didn’t see any kids, but there were definitely too many guards for a store called ‘Windows, Doors, and More’. Even if it is in Gotham.”

“So we check it out in the tomorrow during the day. By we, I obviously don’t mean you Y/N/N.”

“Yeah yeah Jay, I gathered.” The sarcasm dripped off your response.

“While we’re on that subject…” Now Tim and Damian had turned their attention to you as well. “We think you need a suit. A secret identity. These people found you too easily.”

You chuckled at the mere thought, “Yeah okay. I don’t have any family, there’s no point.” You didn’t notice the sorrow fill Jason’s eyes at your apathetic words.

“Fine, if you won’t do it for me then how about your sister. Just because she doesn’t know about you doesn’t mean others don’t.” Jason’s frustration was apparent.

Before you could comprehend the words, your fist collided with Jason’s jaw. Immediately, you stepped back. Your hands shaking.

“Hit me all you –” Before Jason could finish your hands cupped his face.

“No no no” you whispered more to yourself than him. A tear fell from your eye as your mind finally caught up. “Jay, I’m so sorry.” You pressed a kiss to his lips, then another, and another before enveloping him in a hug. “You’re right. I need to protect her. Protect you.” A faint smile grazed his lips and he pulled you from his chest, keeping his hands resting on your shoulders. The silence seemed to go on forever, until Damian couldn’t take it anymore.

“Finally! Now come see the suit we had designed for you.” It was the first time you had ever heard Damian Wayne excited for something.

You gave Jason a smirk, “You already had it made?”

“For almost a year now.”

“So you guys are together, right?!” You heard Dick’s confused voice bellow in the background. No one answered him.

**

The next day came and went and a plan was made. Your role was made minimal, and by minimal you meant being forced to sit as the look out on the rooftop across the street. Though you understood, you still couldn’t sit back and watch everything go down. You waited until you heard clear fighting happening in the warehouse when you made your way to the roof. Timing the break-in with a gunshot, you crashed through a second story window and made your way to a locked back room.

The five of you had narrowed the location of the children down to this room. It was the only thing that made sense, and you were determined to get these kids out. The lock was easy to pick, however, you were not expecting someone on the other side. Someone who knew exactly who you were, despite your newfound disguise.

“Oh look who saved me the trouble. I think I owe you another bullet for the number your friend did on my face.”

“Ya’know, he’s right outside…why don’t you just go pay it back now.”

“Somehow I think hurting you will do just that. But don’t worry, he’ll get his turn to.” As you pulled the gun holstered at your side the man delivered a swift jab to your injured side. The gun fell to the floor and you charged at him, dropping to the ground just before making contact and sweeping his legs from under him. He collapsed to the floor and you jumped on top of him, putting as much force as you could against his neck with your arm. As you felt your grip loosening you threw back your head and crashed in into his. You felt him go limp under your weight.

“Where the fuck are the kids.” You mumbled to yourself. You begin searching for a hidden panel or room. As you heard gunshots barrel through the warehouse, you looked down and noticed a locked hatch. Making quick work of the lock, you pulled the hatch open and were met with eight terrified eyes staring up at you.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” You reached your hand down, offering it to one of the children. After what seemed like hours, a brave soul took it in theirs. Thankfully, the others quickly followed. You soon realized you couldn’t get them out the same way you came in.

“Shit, alright guys. I need you to cover your ears.” You placed your hands over your ears as a demonstration before you set a small charge at the far wall. “Once this goes off you run through the opening and wait in the alley behind the next building. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I promise.” As the children nodded you set off the detonation, grabbed your gun, and positioned yourself between them and the door. You knew the noise would draw attention.

A man soon rounded the corner, only half the kids were out. You shot directly through his knee cap. He wasn’t alone. Upon hearing the shot, the second assailant somersaulted directly into your feet. You stumbled backwards, forcing the last child out of the opening. Your momentary loss of focus allowed the man to push you into the wall. He held one hand around your neck and the other around your wrist. He continued to slam your wrist into the wall until you were forced to drop the gun. You quickly latched your legs around his waist and jabbed your free arm into his side. His stumbled backwards, loosening his grip as he stumbled to stay upright with the additional weight. You pulled your other wrist from his grasp and launched it at his jaw. You heard a crack as your fist made contact. The hand at your neck flew towards his own jaw. As he was off guard, you fell into him, forcing him to fall backwards onto the ground. Just as you stumbled to get up, Jason raced into the room.

“This was not the plan!”

You smirked, “But it worked. Kids are in the next alley. Be a good birdie and go get them Nightwing.” Dick rolled his eyes but complied. Without a word, Damian and Tim joined him. Jason’s eyes trailed towards your neck, which was already starting to change color. Before he could berate you, you continued, your voice heavy. “They were kids Jay. They deserved a life. They deserved a choice.”

Jason pulled you into his chest, “They did, but now we have no one to question. There’s no way these idiots were the masterminds.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

[incorrectbatfam]

hi! i’m really new to the dc universe and all the comics and characters.. i saw you wrote some descriptions on some of them, but was wondering if you could like dumb down like all of the (main) ones? thank you!

Original posts with Carrie Kelley, Cassandra Cain, Harper Row, and Duke Thomas

I’m just gonna cover the Batfamily since…it’s kind of what I do. As usual, we ignore the Bad Canon™

First we got the big bad Bats himself, Wayne Enterprises CEO Bruce Wayne. His grimdark nature is largely fueled by his parents’ deaths when he was eight (they got shot in an alley while he survived). He made it his mission to protect Gotham City from crime, and in doing so acquired a bunch of people in what we know at the Batfamily. Besides that, he’s also part of the original Justice League and he’s got like ninety years of canon to pick and choose from

Next we have Dick Grayson, oldest of the batkids. He was raised in Haly’s Circus and performed trapeze acts with his parents, John and Mary Grayson. While in Gotham, a crime boss tampered with their ropes and John and Mary fell to their deaths. Bruce took him in and trained him to be the first Robin. After a while they drifted apart and Dick rebranded himself as Nightwing and became leader of the OG Teen Titans. He also became a cop, Agent 37, and a Talon and maybe a few other things but for the most part he’s remembered as Nightwing

Jason Todd is the second Robin (and the last one without pants). He grew up in Gotham’s Crime Alley to a POS father and addict mother and was adopted by Bruce after trying to steal the tires off the Batmobile. He was killed by the Joker in his teens, only to be resurrected by the League of Assassins via the Lazarus Pit. After that, he became the crime boss and gunslinging anti-hero Red Hood because he believed his methods were better than Batman’s no-kill one. He also formed the Outlaws with old Titans members such as Starfire and Arsenal

Our third bat child is Tim Drake, AKA Red Robin, son of Gotham elite Jack and Janet Drake. Tim was a genius kid (and a bit stalkerish) from the start, able to deduce Batman and others’ identities and figuring out that the late Jason Todd was Robin. He demanded to be Robin, saying that Batman needed a partner. He was part of the Titans but is more known for his Young Justice team. Later Tim rebrands as Red Robin because Dick (as Batman) gave the Robin title to the little demon that’s coming up later

Next we got Stephanie Brown, daughter of a POS mother and the villain Cluemaster. She’s most notably known as Spoiler, the name coming from spoiling her own father’s evil schemes. She becomes Batman’s fourth Robin (don’t care what dudebros say) but dies after a couple weeks on the field. After some timeline alterations or whatever, she comes back to life. I’m not sure where her Batgirl storyline fits in that chronology but…yeah. Again, mainly known as Spoiler and often fights alongside Tim

Our fifth and youngest Robin (still goes by that) is Damian Wayne, a test tube baby of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Ghul, raised by the League of Assassin to be a living weapon and heir to Ra’s Al Ghul’s legacy. Talia dropped him off with Bruce and he trained under both his father and Dick Grayson as Robin. He was killed by Talia’s clone but brought back to life by Bruce on Apokolips. Damian also secured a spot as a Teen Titans leader and is most well-known for being one of the two Super Sons alongside Jon Kent

Barbara Gordon, AKA Batgirl and Oracle, is the daughter of GCPD police chief Jim Gordon. She went behind his back and trained herself to be a vigilante, donning the Bat symbol as Batgirl and fighting crime alongside the Bats. She’s paralyzed waist-down after getting shot by the Joker and is now wheelchair bound (we ignore the ableist canon that undoes that). She’s now a computer whiz who provides intel to her teammates under the codename Oracle

Katherine “Kate” Kane is another wealthy Gothamite who was inspired by Batman to join the fight against crime. Her mother and sister were killed by terrorists so she was raised by her single father. She was a cadet at West Point and was an ace student until her final year, where she had to come out as a lesbian and expelled under Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. She went through a period of  self-medication and even ended up on a desert island before returning to Gotham and channeling her energy into the Batwoman we know today

Alfred Pennyworth (formerly Alfred Beagle) is the badass surrogate father/grandfather to this entire crew. A retired British intelligence agent, he followed his father’s footsteps of serving the Wayne family. Alfred raised Bruce following Thomas and Martha Wayne’s deaths and plays a major role in assisting the Batfamily in her hero business from within the Batcave. He also has a long lost daughter, another secret agent named Julia Pennyworth.

[hasegawasosise]

In Numbers We Trust

Summary:

Prompt master: @outoftheframework

I like the concept of each of the kids having a number or having a thing where they count off. Not in a demeaning or dehumanizing way at all, just more so to use in dangerous situations. For example, a bomb goes off on patrol, and to quickly see if everyone is okay, the kids (including Steph and Babs) automatically start counting one at a time. Bruce can breathe again once the count reaches eight. This tradition begins to carry over to civilian life when the kids yell numbers across a crowded gala after the power goes out.

Beta Agenthandler

Bruce never planned on starting a family. He made a vow to live for justice. He would be the force Gotham needed. He would be the forever bachelor. Justice was his Lady Love.

But 90% of life’s plan was just that—a plan. Bruce would never have guessed he'd end up taking in a boy who called himself Dick Grayson. Technically his ward, but Bruce suffered a mid-life crisis every day from thereon, wondering whether it was the right choice for him to adopt a kid—or why anyone sane would let Bruce Wayne adopt any kid in the first place. It was a testament to Dick’s own awesomeness that he grew up to be a mostly functional adult—Bruce definitely wasn’t.

After Dick, he recruited an amazing girl named Barbara Gordon as another sidekick. She was not officially his adopted daughter, but by day two of working together Bruce registered her in his little hind brain as “my kid.”

Then another. Jason Todd not only stole the Batmobile’s tires but also Batman’s heart. The little boy taught Bruce more about street-smarts and how to be a better person right until his death. His realized depth of parental love made him wonder why he ever adopted anyone in the first place—and ended up losing them that way.

After what he thought was the last, another one came into his life without invitation. Timothy Drake was a genius detective. Out of his first four—yes, Bruce could still count—Tim was the most similar to Bruce. They had the same kind of upbringing amidst the Gotham Elite, they were both highly focused and detail oriented individuals. Tim was even smarter than Bruce, and he was the sole reason Bruce could continue functioning after Jason’s death. Tim was also the only one to believe he was still alive and brought Bruce back from when he was lost in time.

After Time was Stephanie Brown. A cheerful ray of sunshine that had her own worries, but could function the best out of all his children. She had the kind of light sarcastic humor to brighten up Bruce’s darker days. He gained a third daughter, Cassandra Cain, the most accomplished amongst his children in terms of stealth and combat, also his one darling princess.

Then Bruce was introduced to his—one and only—blood son, a little baby assassin who had the unfortunate tendency to stab first ask later. By this time, Bruce had a better handle on raising children highly susceptible to raising hell and violence (read: still an incompetent parent, but he knew how to tune out their nagging) and had no choice but to assign Dick  with Damian’s education on humanities and socialization.

He also had Helena, Terry, Matt, Duke, and Harper.

Bruce lost count.

It was the ultimate testament to Bruce’s parenting skill. He sometimes couldn’t remember how many kids he had. He could lose them in a Walmart and forget he was missing one. But thankfully, he had a secret weapon.

Since Jason, he assigned them all numbers. Dick was one, Barbara was two, Jason three, Timothy four, Stephanie five, Cass six,  Damian seven—although he always said he was the first—Duke was eight, Harper nine, Terry ten, Matt eleven, and little Helena was twelve.

Imagine that. Bruce had twelve kids. What was his vow again? Lady Love Justice? Don’t know her.

It became sort of a tradition. When the kids entered the Wayne manor, each of them wrote their number on the info board down in the changing room. They were also listed on a desktop note of the BatComputer. It became a ritual in which the last child would add their newest sibling into the list, so they knew who the next number was supposed to be, and that next child would be who they were responsible for. Well, except Dick who accepted all of them as his baby chicks. The number also became a little part of their identity—each of them would put their numbers on everything they owned from their doors to their batarangs to the containers in the fridge.

Bruce, most importantly, used the numbering system to check in on them. It started when Penguin detonated a bank and his robins were scattered fighting all the hundred thugs Penguin hired to keep Batman busy. The blast stopped the fight and Bruce’s heart dropped when he realized his coms were damaged and he immediately couldn’t keep sight of them. He immediately tried to think what he could do, and when he did,  he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“KID COUNT!”

“One!” Nightwing shouted from the top of the next building. Apparently he flew off the bank’s  roof when he realised it was going to burst.

Oracle was two but he knew she was safe in the clock tower.

“Three,” Red Hood drawled. Bruce wondered why he joined in, but was thankful nonetheless.

“Four,” Red Robin shouted from the opposite direction, because he was the sensible one who directed the civilians and police to safety.

“Five!” Spoiler laughed and flew to his side. “That was a doozy!”

“Six,” Black Bat said as she appeared beside Spoiler where they shared a hi-five.

“Seven,” Robin pulled out his swords from a thug’s leg. “Father, I need to clean my sword immediately.”

“No stabbing, please.” “Too late.” Bruce groaned.

“...Eight?” Signal. He was still new to the numbering system.

Batman let go a deep relieved sigh.

The police and civilians who were fortunate to witness the scene, collectively said ‘Oh’. It became a trending twitter before Tim deleted the topic as much as he could.

********

The counting continued though. Citizens who have lots of children (such as parents, teachers, sometimes even the Police teams), realised it was a quick method to ensure update of their progeny/students/teams condition. So they  The counting became sort of a Gotham Trend and eventually enlisted into Gotham’s Emergency SOP. Imagine that, having too many kids to count gave birth to a crucial disaster first-aid first responder procedure.

In all actually, maybe that was one of the top major contributions Batman has given to his city.

********

The kids themselves slowly embraced the importance and fun of the numbers. It created a sort of camaraderie-- even when the numbers didn’t correlate with their height. It used to be a nice isoquant curve when they stood side by side. But after Jason’s growth spurt and Tim naught growth spurt, Steph finding high heels and Cass love for Anti-flood Boots, the nice isoquant curve just became a jagged line not unlike a heartbeat rate.  

That aside, the numbering also slowly bled into their civilian lives:

1.

All of them counted before they entered the GothMart -- Alfred was there too, and suddenly Bruce became number 0. He was there to help Alfred because herding the kids was a massive job.

Dick was back for the weekend to spend time with his “babies” and refused to stay at home, because he wanted to sneak in his grocery list (gummy bears and cereals) into Bruce’s list so he could bring it back to Bludhaven and not spend a dime on it.  

Jason was there because Alfred asked him for help--he was the only one out of the brood with cooking talent and generally all responsible in the kitchen, i.e. Alfred could trust Jason to use his kitchen without blowing it up (shoutout to Tim and Duke who blew the kitchen for the fifth time this year).

Barbara stayed at home, watching over their base, but she was ready with her surveillance just in case they lost one of the broods.

Tim was half dragged, because he had spent the last 30 hours awake doing Bruce-knew-what, and only agreed to be dragged with the promise of sweet, abominable GothMart coffee with pink glitter (a cheap imitation of Starbucks, really) because Tim was fabulous especially after thirty hours of no sleep. And the surprisingly awesome coffee was a dollar--what kind of frugal millionaire didn’t appreciate a dollar of drinkable coffee?

Steph was the one who dragged Tim, with the help of Cass who just returned from Hong Kong for the weekend. Steph wanted to buy some new bras for Cass, something cool and sexy she could enjoy immensely. Bruce was not privy in this knowledge.

Damian was there to ensure his embarrassment of siblings didn’t kill themselves or humiliate the family. Wayne was his legacy afterall, and all of them reflected on his legacy, whether he liked it or not. Duke, the only one whom he could tolerate outside Cassandra (Grayson was mother) just poked his cheek and grinned. Duke might be tolerable, but it didn’t mean Damian didn’t want to stab him sometimes (Drake, on the other hand, looked like a nice pincushion to stab his sword into).

They counted 0 to 8 before they entered, orchestrated by Alfred.  

When they were ready for the checkout, 4, 5, and 6 were missing. Bruce finally found them at the children section, where Tim was busy defending his virginity from a Superboy Plushie, while Steph convulsed with laughter on the floor and Cass video-ed the entire thing.

Bruce refused to buy the cereals (Dick) / sexy lingerie (nope, nope, nope) / kitchen knife collection in black (Damian, as they didn’t need another stabby collection). But Bruce ended up buying the superboy plushie because it had been tainted (the store manager glared at him the whole check out time). At least Tim looked ashamed enough when he was handed the superboy plushie.

2.

The gala was in full swing, full of important people and not-so important moochies. Bruce was entertaining a group of usual donors (important and fun people!) while he saw Tim seriously discussing the stock exchange trends with several old, serious men. Dick was charming the usual group of ladies and young men, while Cass seemed to be hiding behind the potted plan.

Then, just like usual in Gotham, the lights went off. The room suddenly became dark and people started to scream.

“KID COUNT!” Bruce shouted. “Zero,” he added because of habit.

“One!” “Three!” “Four!” “Five and Six!” “Seven.” “Eight” “Nine.”

Wait, did he bring Harper with him? Harper was allergic to this kind of gala--and that was why he never fully adopted her into his Wayne name.

Oh well. The more number he got, the better.

Justice Lady love who?

[aspiratinganxiety]

Smart Advertising

Hey, guys! I know it has been an age since I updated or posted any fic. I uh... I’ve been going through a lot. 

Many of you, I’m sure, are now familiar with Omegaverse and A/B/O Dynamics. I have a deep and abiding love for this particular brand of trash, and I’ve recognized that there is a lack of it in the DC fandom. SO! Surprise, surprise! I’m coming back with Part I for a Jason A/B/O fic. 

Let me know if you want to see more of this story, and I hope you’re all doing well in this godforsaken hellscape of a year <3 

Tag List: @nxxttime , @possiblyelven , @thepuckishrogue , @jinkies-its-a-writer, @queeniepearls, @sesquipedalian-aficionado, @reinathequeenofdreems, and @dcuniverse-fanatic (If you want to be tagged, let me know! For more fics, check out my masterlist.)

Making time for a meal was often too much work for Jason. He ate on the go, eight out of ten times. The rare occasions he sat still to consume food usually involved an invitation from Alfred, like today’s debacle of a lunch. Steph was fighting with Bruce (shocker), Barbara had the flu, and Cass was diligently working one doozy of case. Her brief email rundown was more than considerate, given that she was using a satellite connection on the ass-crack of the planet in some Godforsaken jungle.

Trying to find the time to arrange a date? Ridiculous.

           “C’mon, Jay,” Dick taps his shoulder with his knuckles. “I think you’d really like her. And her brother’s in the life, so it’s not like you have to deal with the ‘secret identity’ stuff.”

           Now that was a plus, just not enough of one to lure Jason out of his malcontent. “Who’s ‘er brother?” he asks around a mouthful of sandwich, hoping to change the subject.

           “Oh, a meta-guy I worked with in Spiral.”

           The deliberate nonchalance of the eldest Robin makes Jason bristle. “Yeah,” he reiterates, tucking the massive bite into his cheek to speak more clearly. “And his name was?”

           “Not the important part,” Dick dodges again. “The important parts are that she’s an omega living in Gotham who does charity work for a living. She is also very cute! I have a picture.” At this point, he sets down the family sized bag of plain Lays (abominable) and fishes his phone out of his back pocket.

           Tim, thank Christ, decides to weigh in on the matter. “I feel like who her brother is happens to be important, considering that you specified he knows who Jason is, and by proxy the rest of us…”

           “I didn’t say that!”

“You said I wouldn’t have to keep my identity a secret, because he’s in the life. That wouldn’t be relevant unless he knew me,” Jason motions to his chest vigorously, some stray shreds of lettuce escaping his sandwich.

“That’s not what I said” Dick insists.

“It’s what you implied with what you said.” Tim points at Dick with a cheese puff, pinky aloft, then pops the snack into his mouth to state another observation. “Also, regardless of whether or not he knows Jason, he knows who you are. That means he already knows who we are, and I’d really like to have his name, Dick.”  

“Tim, shut up. This isn’t about you.”

“Let’s watch our tone, boys,” Alfred says, breezing into the kitchen with a faintly disappointed air to have found them, not only arguing, but hunched vulture-like around the kitchen island decimating what would have been decent leftovers. “Master Dick, we all know how Jason feels about match-making: much the way Master Bruce feels about it.”

Outwardly admonished, Dick says something to schmooze Alfred while he slides his phone over to Jason. Never one to deny curiosity, Jason peers down to see the girl Dick’s pestering him about. She’s a round young woman in a dirty pink T-shirt holding up a mop-head of a puppy with a big, goofy smile on her face. Her hair is windswept, she’s clearly sunburned, her front teeth have a gap between them, and she’s possibly the most adorable human being he’s ever seen in his life.

Shaking his head, Jason says, “She’s not my type.”

Unrepentant and quick to ignore the wave of wry disapproval emanating from Alfred, Dick stops mid-excuse to say, “Oh, she is so your type. Don’t lie to me.”

“She looks twelve!” Jason recoils, scrunching his face and glancing back down at the sweet girl in the photo. “The hell’s wrong with you?”

“She does not,” Dick defends himself, using his back to block Tim’s snooping look toward the screen. He double checks the picture himself, and a few moments pass. “Okay,” he shoots Jason a resentful glance while swiping forward a few times. “She looks a little young in that particular picture, but she’s in her twenties. Here! Look at this one.”

Tim to the rescue again! “Uh, I thought you said you had a picture, Dick. As in one.”

Dick doesn’t bother to dignify that with more than a muttered, “Puh-lease.” Like they weren’t all aware that folders full of images on anyone were only a few clicks away. Tim, especially.

Jason tunes out of the bickering that begins between them as Dick continues to exclude Tim, physically using his body as a barrier and failing to hold the phone steady for Jason’s eyes. She’s in a bikini top seated in a cheap plastic kiddy pool, more tanned and freckled with her hair restrained somewhat successfully in a braid that sits over her shoulder. Three massive dogs crowd around her for attention, but her eyes, amber from the angle of the sun, are staring straight at the camera. This smile is shyer; lips hiding her teeth, shoulders bent forward to bring her chest in and mask the soft rolls on her stomach brought out by her position sitting upright. She does look to be markedly older in this particular photo.

“How many damn dogs does she have?” Jason returns to his sandwich, averting his eyes and willing his voice to be dismissive.

“She works at the new shelter in East End, bruh. These aren’t her dogs.”

Damian ghosted into the kitchen at some point and posted himself behind Jason. The older brother pretends that he’s not startled to hear the kid speak. “Really? I’ve been reading good things about their practice. No-kill, good rehoming rates. Working to coordinate with other shelters and founding a spay/neuter program...” he trails off, weaseling between the two oldest brothers to have a look at Dick’s phone. “Smart advertising too. A scantily clad omega female sitting a pool with freshly groomed dogs? Good call. I bet those three have already been adopted.”

“Scantily clad?” Tim prods, doubly straining to maneuver around Dick.

Mercifully, however, this brings the picture show to an end. Dick huffs, glancing uncomfortably at Damian and tucking his phone away. Apparently, an actual twelve year old commenting on a woman’s state of dress is enough to upset his sensibilities.

Damian looks at Jason, eyes piercing and the same green as his own. He digs a hand into Dick’s bag of potato chips and says, “You should date her. She was attractive enough, and I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”

The child is unblinking as he withdraws a handful of chips and begins to eat them while starting Jason down. He half expects the little fucker to wave his free hand and pull some Jedi mind trick gag, but remembers that Damian doesn’t do pop culture humor when Tim’s in the room.

Jason drops his sandwich on the naked stone counter as though he’s discovered mold. “Well, that’s it for me,” he says, edging toward the sunroom and the side door into the gardens. “I gotta’ go.”              

[brandstifter-sys]

The Tales of Rabidosa and Scylla Emerald

Word Count: 1207               (Ao3)

Pairing: Dukexiety

Rating: T

Warnings: Sex mention, coming out as trans, confusing pronouns, mtf!remus, ftm!virgil

Dukexiety Week: Bonus Day - Superheroes Virgil just came out to his girlfriend as trans and it could have gone better, luckily he’s got a miraculous and a crime-fighting partner who’s always got his back. But coming out to her leads to some unforseen consequences. Miraculous AU

@dukexietyweek

---

Rabidosa crouched on top of some old apartment building, staring off into the city in search of trouble. She was hoping that her patrol would give her something to think about other than her civilian life. Things were icky, and maybe telling Ree the truth about her gender could have gone better. Out of the skin-tight purple costume and mask, covered in black cobwebs, Rabidosa was a guy and Virgil was still getting used to calling himself that out loud. 

“Funny meeting you here!” A familiar voice laughed from behind her–yes her, costume on, she/her, the perfect secret identity–and Rabidosa internally groaned. 

“Scylla,” she huffed and rolled her eyes. She didn’t have to look to see the wily hero dressed up in a green pseudo-leather catsuit with her hair tied up in a partial bun, letting the majority of it fall down her back in eight distinct ringlets. Scylla was always trouble.

“Oh, not even a hello?” she said and sat on the edge of the building next to her partner, “Did your boyfriend do something stupid?”

“What?”

“It’s a little early for you to be out on patrol! Especially without any akumas! What happened?” Scylla questioned and shrugged, wiggling her upper lip in thought, as if she had a mustache under that face sleeve. Rabidosa sighed and sat down, unable to think up a decent excuse. 

“I came out to my girlfriend. And she just stared at me so hopelessly lost and confused.”

“Ace? Aro?”

“I’m a dude. And she’s into girls. I don’t want to lose her, but I don’t want her to see me as a girl, or to put herself in an uncomfortable position to be with me.” 

“If she really loves you, she’ll support you. My boyfriend stuck with me when I came out as trans, and he’s been the best. I kinda hate that I didn’t give him the right amount of support today when he told me something huge, not bad but bigger than my dick! I finally have my head wrapped around it, but I don’t know where he is or when he’ll get back.”

“You froze up?”

“I know, I never shut up, and I just froze! I was like Hannelore Schmatz, but with less decay. I just need to think of a way to let him know I’m okay with this thing and that I would set fire to the department of records for him if he asked.”

“Do that and I will have to take you down." 

"You can take me anyway you like if he ends it because I am such a herbo!" Scylla giggled, "I didn't even get to ask him what his name is—Can I ask yours?" 

"I didn't tell you my deadname, why would I tell you this one?" Rabidosa scoffed. 

"Because it's not on any records so I can't stalk you and who knows if you'll think a different name works better later. You can say no, I get it." 

"Might as well get used to saying it out loud," Rabidosa sighed and bit her lip, "My name is Virgil." 

"Virgil?" Scylla parroted, "I like it! It's the kind of name I'd love to moan and scream and whisper and sing, Spiderling. If things don't work out between you and your girlfriend and me and my boyfriend look me up! And down! Take in the sights!" 

Rabidosa snorted and shook her head. Scylla Emerald was always good at lightening the mood, just like Reina. It was an odd comfort and maybe, just maybe, she would take Scylla' offer this time. 

"I'll think about it. But for now, since it's quiet, I'm gonna go ahead and try to talk to my girlfriend. I want that relationship to work." 

"Good idea! My boyfriend might be home too!" Scylla laughed and pulled out a mace from thin air. She stood up and spun it over her head and flew off. Rabidosa wished she could move that fast. She shot a web from her wrist and swung off towards home.

.

Virgil got into the bedroom through the window and powered down. The magic that made him a spidery superheroine condensed in a puff of black fog and condensed in a web-shaped necklace hiding under his tee. The purple kwami that came out of it flew off to hide in the closet—Arie wasn't big on speaking, but Virgil didn't care much about that. He wasn't ready for a confrontation but he had to go into the main apartment and talk to her. 

"Scare Bear?" she called to him from the door, "Are you in there?" 

"Yeah," Virgil said, squeaking just a little bit out of nerves, "You can come in." 

The door flew open and before he knew what was happening, Virgil was being crushed against a strong chest and sandwiched between a pair of anime tiddies. Reina was big on physical contact.

"Scare Bear, I'm sorry for freezing up before! I was just surprised and processing it! I don't care what gender you are as long as you're happy as you! I love you so much!"

"Duchess, I love you too but I can't breathe!" Virgil gasped. Reina let go with a giggle and held him at arm's length. Her eyes were so bright, a perfect match for her smile. She wiggled her mustache and brushed his bangs from his face. 

"Do you have a name yet?" she asked, bouncing in place, playing up anime stereotypes.

"My name is Virgil," he sighed and looked at her hopefully. She froze again. 

"Virgil?" she squeaked as it hit her, "I like it. It's the kind of name I'd love to moan and scream and whisper and sing, Spiderling." 

"Scylla Emerald?" Virgil gasped. Reina nodded. 

"Rabidosa?" she squeaked. Virgil nodded and suddenly pulled her into a hug. He wasn't crying, not at all. 

"Virgil?"

"It's been you all along!" he laughed, "Holy shit it's been you kicking ass with me this entire time!" 

"Yeah, I guess it has!" she giggled, "Which means I can flirt with you without any restraint in costume! And I will because, boy, you look damn good in that suit!" 

"Look who's talking!" Virgil laughed, "the person I had a crush on in middle school has always been my partner!" 

"You had a crush on me? Aw babe, that's embarrassing!" 

"We're dating!" 

"I know but I was a mess! More than usual! I was so hot for Rabidosa too! And look at me now! I'm dating you and I've never been happier! Jug can suck it!" 

"Not until I do, Duchess," Virgil jeered, "If I even leave anything to suck." 

"Scare Bear don't tempt me!" Reina warned. Virgil smirked and pulled her into a kiss. 

"Duchess, if you don't want to that's fine but dammit I am so happy right now! You accept me, and you've been there the whole time! Maybe I want to top off all this miraculous stuff with something that's almost always miraculous." 

"Almost?" Ree teased, "You know every time is miraculous! I get to see all of my boyfriend!"

“I’m gonna have to get used to hearing you say that,” Virgil giggled, “but I love it, almost as much as I love you.”

“I love you too, Spiderling!”

----

Okay so, spiders are good luck, like ladybugs, how could I not? Rabidosa rabidosa is the scientific name for the rabid wolf spider. Scylla is a sea monster from ancient Greek mythos, not exactly bad luck like a black cat but it fit the Duchess.

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober 2020 Day 6

No more | "stop please"

Ao3

Warnings: kidnapping and torture pretty much. Misunderstandings. Angst. Lost of angst.

-o-o-o-o-

One month, seven days, thirteen hours, and forty six minutes. 

Exactly one month, seven days, thirteen hours, and forty six minutes ago, Dick went missing. Dropped off the face of the earth. He was last seen leaving work. Bruce knew he made it home, but his apartment was trashed by the time Bruce went over to check it out himself. Though, he had expected that. There had been a complaint called in from the downstairs neighbor about the ruckus.

However, it was a kind of "trashed" that was so unlike Dick. On one hand, Dick  did  have a messy living space. It had been an issue ever since he had first moved into the manor as a boy. Alfred would always be on his case about picking up his laundry or tidying up the action figures that fell off his bookshelf.. And now that Dick was an adult, Bruce knew by now to give Dick a few hours heads up before heading over so he could attempt to at least make the place  presentable  before company arrived. 

But on the other hand, this kind of “trashed” wasn't what Dick was oh-so fondly known for. Clothes tossed everywhere, hanging out from the skink and off the curtain rods. The left cushion of Dick's love seat had a giant cut in the material, like a giant scar, stuffing oozing out like blood. The TV Bruce bought him for Christmas was on its side, cracked and sporting a bullet hole through the center. 

The worst part was that the little compartment Dick had built into his apartment where he kept his suit was wide open, the contents thereof rummaged through carelessly. The suit and mask were missing, along with various high tech weapons, but the rest were strewn across the carpeted floor carelessly. Whoever had taken Dick; they knew he was Nightwing. Which meant Dick went down fighting as Nightwing. He wasn't holding back, he wasn't pretending to be anyone other than the powerhouse of a vigilante that he was. 

Which also meant that this was an all hands on deck sort of scenario. Dick's identity was compromised, which very well meant that everyone else could be figured out as well.

Besides, no one really minded being called in to help find Dick and the people responsible for his abduction. The compromised identities were just a font used to cover the fact that they all cared and were worried. 

One month, seven days, thirteen hours, and forty seven minutes. 

It shouldn't have taken that long, but it had. These people were professionals. The best of the best of Blüdhaven's underground ring of villains. Each hired for a specific purpose: figure out who Nightwing was, teach him a lesson, then take him out. Bruce, Tim, and Barbara could hardly find any information on the people who took Dick besides that. No cataloged fingerprints. No fines or tickets. No history of crime. Though, that wasn't at all shocking. Normally, the best of the best in the criminal world are people who haven't been caught yet. 

All of that added up as to why it took so long. Dick's initial abductors weren't even Blüdhaven natives. Just hired guns to barge in and grab him, then deliver him to the real people who wanted him out of the picture.

After one month, seven days, thirteen hours, and forty eight minutes, the people who had Dick now were a family of foreign mafia members who had set base in Blüdhaven generations ago. Dick had, apparently, about three months ago taken down a solid chunk of their scandals to make money by exposing the drug trade going on in one of the basements of Blüdhaven's many casinos. This was an act of revenge, and revenge was hardly quick and painless. 

Which could be a good and a  bad thing.

Good because it meant—as Bruce, Cass, and Tim scoped out a decently sized company building (near the casino Dick exposed) exactly one month, seven days, thirteen hours, and forty nine minutes after his abduction—that Dick still could be alive. 

Bad, because it meant—as Bruce pointed where he needed Cass and Tim to enter the building and talked over his comm to give instructions to the rest of the family exactly one month, seven days, thirteen hours, and forty nine minutes after his abduction—that when they do find Dick, he wouldn’t be in good shape. 

There wasn’t any doubt about it. However they find Dick, it would be gruesome. Bloody. Filled with the stench of confinement and the reek of torture. 

The most they could do now was make sure the one month, seven days, thirteen hours, and fifty minutes since Dick's abduction didn’t become much longer. 

Bruce entered through a large vent built into the side of the building while Tim and Cass followed suit silently. Jason and Duke were to enter from the rooftop while Steph and Damian entered through the sewers. There wasn’t any telling where Dick could be—if he was being held in this building in the first place—but the building was large enough for it to warrant a whole lot of searching. It might only stand half a dozen stories high, but it had just as many stories going down into the ground as a series of basements. Tim had a theory that a wall in the lowest basement could potentially lead to another secret floor down below. 

Though, the only way to know for sure was to go in and check themselves. Blüdhaven wasn't as… documented, believe it or not, compared to Gotham. Blüdhaven was founded on scam and lies. Corruption ran so deep that it was everywhere you walked, like every person walking the streets and breathing in the air were glitching codes of ones and zeroes hiding behind innocent, lifelike masks. 

Searching through the building took time; time Bruce wished they didn't have to spend. One month, seven days, thirteen hours, and fifty minutes turned into one month, seven days, fourteen hours, and two minutes rather quickly. Too quickly. They stuck to the shadows of the building and focused on avoiding being spotted just yet—but sneaking took time, and Dick didn't have a whole lot of time left to spare. 

If he was alive at all. 

No  . No he was alive. Bruce knew it. He was somewhere in this building and he was breathing and he was  alive . 

He had to be. 

Bruce didn't know what would happen next if he wasn't. 

Finally, one month, seven days, fourteen hours, and three minutes from Dick's kidnapping, Jason's voice whispered over the comms that he overheard a couple of grunts talking about Nightwing, and that he was in the secret level beneath the building like what Tim suspected existed. Bruce didn't say it out loud, but he was sure that Jason and Duke didn't overhear anything. They probably cornered a couple of mafia members in a dark, isolated janitor's closet and scared them until they spilled the information they wanted and probably soiled their pants during the process. Regardless, Bruce luckily took Tim's gut feelings into higher standing than most things. He, Tim, and Cass were already racing down into the basement levels. 

Steph and Damian said over the comms that they might take awhile to get there; as it turned out, these people were smart enough to set up motion detectors in the sewers connecting to the building. 

Eventually, they made it to the very bottom of the building where nothing was very interesting to see besides long, mostly empty hallways filled with various machines and generators keeping power to the activities above. There was the distant, muffled sound of loud electronic music, but that was to be expected because the floor above was a "secret" strip club. 

The three men playing cards on a dinky plastic table next to a bare chunk of wall was proof enough of Tim's theory of a secret room. Men with guns and a walkie sitting between them on top of the table  for all to hear easily, don’t normally sit in shadowed spaces of basements. They were guarding something. 

Bruce stepped  back, waving at Cassandra and Tim and pointing out their targets, but he didn't get far into his silent instructions before Cassandra lifted a hand to cut him off, her jaw set in a firm line beneath her dark mask. 

And Bruce understood. She had really stepped up to the plate when Dick was kidnapped one month, seven days, fourteen hours, and ten minutes ago. She had taken it upon herself to be happy and positive and comforting while everyone else could see that all she really wanted to do was throw something against the wall just to watch it shatter. Cassandra didn't like to express her frustrations in violence, but sometimes, Bruce knew she needed a group of bad guys to demolish. 

Silent as a whisper of death, Cass crept forward with her dangerous fists clenched. 

The fight didn't last long at all. Cass's abilities to fight were and always would be beyond comparison. Even compared to Bruce. He watched her take out each man with a quick series of punches aimed precisely where she wanted to hit and not a single hairsbreadth off. They didn't even get the chance to yell or call for help on that walkie of theirs. One moment they were playing what looked to be some sort of improvised version of go-fish with a classic 52 pack of playing cards created out of boredom, and the next they were taken out of commission by what could possibly be their newest worst nightmare. Cass brushed her hands together in front of her, silently saying that she had taken out the trash, and that it was Tim's turn.

Tim, for his part, didn't need to be told verbally of what he was expected to do. He just immediately ran past her, giving her a brief good natured pat on her shoulder as he did, and started to feel along the wall. 

It was always entrancing to watch Tim figure out complicated technology. The boy was a genius. He knew the in's and out's of 1s and 0s better than most everybody. Bruce was sure, no… he was  confident  that it was only a matter of time before Tim's abilities surpassed his own. 

If Tim hadn't already surpassed him. 

However, tackling a complicated problem alone could take time. Time they couldn't waste. Bruce stepped forward and looked at the hidden hand scanner Tim had discovered under a discreetly placed section of drywall. Tim looked up to him, a question in his eyes, and Bruce thought it over. 

They could try using the handprints of the men Cass took down and risk their biological data not being in the system and setting off an alarm, or they could spend more time taking the scanner apart and searching for the right wires to trick.

Risky or long. Quick or safe. 

Bruce gave a nod, letting his shoulders fall ever so slightly as he lowered himself to his knees and pulled out a set of tools from his utilities belt. Tim nodded back, his eyebrows falling down to umbrella over his masked eyes in concentration. 

It took time. The panel was good. Better than many that Bruce had run into during his years of Batman. Unhackable, most would say. 

Those people haven't met Tim though, and neither had the now picked and flashing green handprint scanner. 

There was a mechanical whirr of practically silent pistons and locks becoming undone. Bruce and Tim stepped back to watch the section of wall lower into the floor, showing a set of stairs that went down directly in front of them for several steps, then turned 180° to continue going down out of sight. 

The walkie behind them crackled to life; a voice asking what that noise was. 

The voice sounded recognizably American, which made it clear they weren't actually dealing with the actual mafia. Just a group of crime-doers that probably descended from the original gangsters in Las Vegas, only difference was that their ancestors didn't make it big and decided Blüdhaven was much easier to do crime in. 

" I told you I didn't want any interruptions  !" The man yelled through the walke speakers. "  I'm not done with him yet -"

Bruce felt his heart clench at the sounds that followed that followed. A Spark of electricity. A  scream . 

Bruce disregarded the walkie...  forced himself to. One month, seven days, fourteen hours, and thirteen minutes since Dick's kidnapping, and Bruce was sprinting down the stairs, his feet barely touching the ground as he went. His movement's as silent as a owl's feathers, his cape flowing behind him like he controlled the shadows himself. 

Running down the staircase barely took any time at all. Within seconds, he found himself looking down one long hallway built like a bunker. Dick had to be in one of these rooms. He just  had  to be. 

Heart in his throat, Bruce, Tim, and Cass spread out into the floor, opening door after door, looking for Dick. Behind most of the doors were crates and boxes and bags and  piles  of drugs, and as Bruce found himself slowly approaching the end of the secret basement he couldn't help but feel intense worry that he had gotten something wrong. That Dick wasn't here. 

But he  heard  Dick scream over that walkie. Dick was alive. Dick  was here. 

He just had to find the correct room. 

And it was just his luck that the last door he opened was the correct one. 

One month, seven days, fourteen hours, and seventeen minutes. 

That was how long it took Bruce to get here, in this doorway, standing with widening eyes behind his cowl's lenses, watching as a man leaned over a table, his hands wrapped around something struggling and writhing in binds. Lining the walls were groups of people, all holding guns and looking comically shocked as Batman barged into the room. Across the room, sitting in a chair to have the best view of the present torture session, was a big rat of man smoking a cigar.

And Bruce saw Dick. He saw Dick's bare chest, his hands tugging on the binds keeping him pinned, his ankles twisting as a natural instinct while fighting to breathe. He saw the man holding Dick's neck between his squeezing fingers. He saw the dried blood splattered over Dick's body. He saw the missing fingernails. He saw the cuts and burns and the broken nose. He saw the pale skin. The weight loss. Every single rib countable if you smeared away the blood.

Red.

He saw red. 

He charged in, his teeth grinding so hard that Leslie would be furious to keep himself from screaming, and punched the man choking…  torturing  Dick across the jaw. The man went flying, roughly hitting the ground as Dick gurgled out a desperate gasp. The rat of a man stood up from his chair, eyes wide and jugular waggling under his butted chin. Immediately, guns were aimed at Batman, thugs all here to protect his boss while he watched what must be his daily torture session. The fat, pathetic excuse of a mafia boss—who Bruce would call a scumbag if that didn't insult all scumbags across the universe—scrambled backwards, lips flapping in a short, flipped sentence that Bruce had heard many, many times to where he almost had to hold back an eye roll. 

But he was too  furious  to roll his eyes now. Not even as the gangster screamed "GET HIM!"

In fact, he hardly even heard those two words yelled at him with a thick sausage of a finger pointed his way. All he could hear were the strangled  sobs  of Dick behind him as he ran forward, swinging his cape to catch the first bullet, throwing his fist to hit the gangster right across his cheek. From then on, it was chaos. Bullets everywhere, shouts and cries harmonizing with the sparks. The singular light above ended up being blown out by a stray bullet around the same time Bruce heard Cass and Tim finally enter. 

Bruce worked like an angel of death. 

No, not of death. 

His blows as if lightning struck the air around him, his will like howls of wind summoned from hell itself. He was the conjuror of destruction, of danger, of catastrophe. He was worse than death. 

He was the crumbling tower, sent to reign down upon those who had thought they could climb too high. 

He blinked, and he found everything silent besides the hands grasping on his shoulder, trying to tug him away from the beaten and broken face of the gangster. Bruce hadn't even realized that time had passed. That the battle was over besides him punching this monster over and over and over in the face. Disgusted—with the man, with himself—he shoved him away and watched so heartlessly it almost frightened him as the unconscious rat splattered onto the grimy floor in a mess of sweaty and bruised limbs. 

He turned towards Cass, her sympathy and understanding lining every inch of her frame, even with the black kevlar covering her features. He turned past her, remembering the whole reason he was here in the first place even though he had never really forgotten. He quickly rushed towards the table Dick was still restrained down onto. 

His eyes were closed, his chest heaving, trickles of water escaping the corners of his eyes and trailing down the sides of his head in more than a month's worth of dust, grime, and blood. His fists were clenched, toes curled, muscles that showed too detailed under the lack of body fat straining weakly against the leather belts keeping him immobile.

Bruce reached forward without thinking and placed his hands on the belt keeping Dick's left arm pinned down above his head. 

Before finding Dick, Bruce had expected a great, many things. A body on one end, a simply trapped and relatively unharmed bored young man on the other. Batman was known amongst the superhero community for always having a plan A through Z for every possible scenario and outcome.

Yet, for some reason, he hadn't ever expected Dick to flinch under Bruce's touch during rescue. 

It was like he was suddenly touching fire the moment Dick cried out, the moment Bruce's fingers just barely brushed the inside of his wrist. He yanked his hands away and stared with wide eyes as Dick broke into more sobs. 

"Stop," Dick hiccuped through his cries; his voice rough like a thousand shards of glass, "stop,  please . No more- I can't-"

The young man dissolved into bubbly suds made out of tears, babbling and begging and beginning to openly weep as he begged for the pain to end. 

"I can't- stop- I- puh-please! Please, no more- n-no more- I  can't- "

The realization crashed into Bruce like a rocket. Dick… didn't realize rescue had come. All he had known for the past month and-  and  was pain and torture and blood. Did he have any hope of rescue left after all this time? Or did he lose it weeks ago, when help had still not come? How long did it take for his quips to fall flat? For his screams to no longer remain silenced? How long did he force himself to stay strong before he must have come to the false realization that no one was coming, and that he would die here?

How long ago had Bruce failed Dick? 

Because Dick not only didn't realize he was  safe  now, but he thought Bruce would hurt him somehow by simply touching the inside of his wrist. 

Dick thought he was going to be tortured. Again. And again. And again. No hope of help. So much pain and suffering in his soul that it ending here and now wasn't even a thought at the back of his mind, hidden behind tearfully closed eyes. 

Bruce took off his cowl, ignoring the way Tim began to whisper urgently towards Cass and into the comm unit. 

"Dick," Bruce tried, forcing his voice to remain calm and soothing, locking all the worry and gravel into a keyed box at the back of his throat. He approached slowly now, but Dick continued to cry anyways. " Chum , I'm here."

A broken gasp. Bruce couldn't take it. 

He reached forward again and gently curled his fingers into Dick's blood matted and sweaty hair, stroking softly like he had always done whenever one of his children ended up in a hospital bed. Dick cried out like he'd been stabbed the moment Bruce touched him, but Bruce didn't back away this time. 

"It's okay, Dick," he soothed, rubbing Dick's scalp through his thick locks like how Dick had always loved because... because Bruce didn't  know  what to do now. "It's me, it's Bruce."

Dick continued sobbing, no recognition. Nothing. Just pain and sorrow and fear. 

"Chum, open your eyes-"

Heaving breaths rattling a chest splattered in red. 

Bruce didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to  do-

But luckily, Tim came up then, giving a smart idea like he always did. 

"We should sedate him," Tim said, his voice barely above a sacred whisper. "Get him at least home and comfortable."

"He's hurting," Cass added, "and scared. Sleep will be good."

Bruce looked down at Dick who was still struggling and crying and babbling and begging words that needn't be spoken now. Not ever again. He took a deep breath then retreated from Dick's hair and reached into his utility belt for a small vial of sedative that he kept on him for a variety of reasons. It didn't take long to take out and fill a clean syringe then  tap the sides to get the bubbles out. It was almost methodical to do so.  This : he knew how to do. He could be given a drug and a needle and someone to stick it in and he could do it without missing a beat. 

But his heart still skipped one when he looked back up to Dick. 

Knowing that it would be evermore unpleasant the longer he allowed this to go on, he shut off the fatherly part of his brain that just wanted to gather Dick up and smother him in forehead kisses. He reached forward and ignored Dick's rekindled cries as he tilted Dick's head to the side to get a better aim at his neck. 

Dick's begging and sobbing increased in pitch and desperateness the moment Bruce stuck the needle into his neck, but thankfully the sedative worked quickly, and soon Dick was little more than a still bag of bones, limp against the table, eyelids flickering in what was perhaps an immediate nightmare.

"What the hell?" A new voice called.

"Oh shit," another agreed. 

It seemed that Jason and Duke had arrived. 

Bruce didn't welcome them though. Dick was… none of his kids were more important than the other, but Dick's situation called for more attention. He quickly got the straps off from Dick's wrists, sparing a thankful glance towards Duke as the young man ran forward to undo the ones on Dick's ankles. The moment Dick was finally free of his binds, Bruce carefully began to cradle Dick towards his body, holding him like a parent would their young child. Head tucked under Bruce's chin, back supported by one of Bruce's arms, legs curled around the other. Bruce held him as tightly and as closely as he dared, listening to nothing but the sound of him breathing as he turned to the others, noting how both Steph and Damian had finally arrived as well, covered in questionable stains and both looking openly upset and shocked. 

Bruce could count the amount of times on one hand that Damian had looked that small, young, and lost. Trust Dick to always be the apple of that boy's eye, trust Dick to be the one to get Damian to look that way. Like a scared, thirteen year old child. 

"Let's go home," Bruce said, and they all agreed one by one. It most certainly would be a pain to get back out of the building without being detected, but Bruce could sense a new fire inside each and every one of them. 

The quickest way out was through the front doors. The people inside this building hurt one of their own. They were all itching for a fight now, more than ever. 

Who was Bruce to stand in their way? This building could crumble to the ground for all he cared. 

As long as he got Dick and the rest of the family home, safe and sound and on the road to recovery, nothing else mattered. 

Not a single, god damned thing.

-o-o-o-o-

Woah? You made it to the end? A reblog would be nice... Haha jk... Unless 👀

[pricetagofficial]

The Archer -Part Thirty-Eight

Warnings: language, angst, blood, panic

Part Thirty-Nine

Word Count: 3.2K

Tag list: @kishony-the-geek @idkmanicantenglish @unknowntoanyone @subtleappreciation @catxsnow @spxder-mxns

A/N: It took my four tries to get this posted, you better enjoy this. I am sorry about nothing and One Winged Angel from FF7R is a masterpiece.

Tim was on his way back from Bat Burger, it had taken him longer than usual because normally when they saw him coming there was a bag with his usual meal and a slip to request a toy all ready to go. The workers there had gotten used to their antics and knew what they ate and that each time they would request a toy after them. When he told them that he was picking up for a friend too, they were a little shocked but gladly made another to go.

He had let slip that there should be a Grey Arrow toy and that she was too proud to ask them to do it herself. It made the workers laugh as they told him they would take it into consideration.

He had grappled through third street and was on his way to the roof he left Rory on over on fourth when he saw that she wasn't alone on the rooftop. As he got closer, he recognized the signature orange and black helmet and urged his feet to go faster.

Before his eyes, he saw as Rory tried to put up a fight only to be taken down in seconds. Tim had yet to see her lose a fight, that wasn't training with Cass and he wasn't ready for it. He was still a few rooftops away when he watched Slade raise his sword and stabbed her, the blade poking out from the other side of Rory's body.

Tim stopped dead in his tracks, the bags of food falling from his hands. He watched in horror as he removed the sword from her, Rory trying to stop him when his feet began working again.

"Rory!"

Slade looked up and disappeared from sight, and Tim rolled onto the roof sliding next to Rory's limp body. He pulled his cowl off, hot tears falling from his eyes as he pulled her onto his lap. Rory was losing a lot of blood and she was losing it fast. He took her chin and turned her to look at him as she spurted blood from her lips and watched as she lost consciousness.

Not wasting a second, he tore the cape off his back and pressed it to her stomach to try and stop the bleeding, quickly losing his composure.

"Rory, please wake up." he sobbed. "Open your eyes and look at me sweetheart, please."

His hands and lap were quickly covered in her blood and pressed the com in his ear. "Somebody, please! Rory she-she's hurt and losing too much blood."

Immediately, Bruce's voice sounded through the link. "What happened, Tim?"

"I-I don't know, I went to go get food and I c-come back to see her fighting Deathstroke and he-" Tim could get the rest of his sentence out, his voice caught in sobs as he watched Rory's life slowly slip away. "She won't make it back to the cave, I'm not even sure she will make it to a hospital."

"Tim, you need to breathe. If you start losing it, then we will lose her for sure. Start for the hospital and one of the others will meet you on the way. Remember, keep yours and her identity secret until you get to the doctor. Dick is giving him a call as we speak."

Tim placed the mask back on her face, his hands trembling as he wrapped her in his cape. Rory had gone deathly pale, and her breathing was slowing. "No offense, but I don't give a fuck about identities right now Bruce." he snapped pulling the cowl over his head, picking Rory up and running across the rooftops.

He tried to keep the tears at bay as he grappled across the city towards the hospital, one wrong move and it would kill them both. Jason and Dick had told him that they were waiting for him outside the back entrance to the hospital that was reserved for the vigilantes when they needed it.

Dropping down, they both ran over their faces losing color at the sight of Rory. She looked dead in Tim's arms, they were scared she already was if they didn't notice the slight rise and fall of her chest. Jason took Rory's limp body in his arms and ran her inside as Dick tried to console a hysteric Tim.

"Richard Grayson, get the fuck out of my way." he snapped, trying to get past him.

"Tim, you need to calm down before I let you in." Dick tried reasoning.

"Calm down?! I just watched her get stabbed and you're telling me to calm down!?" He tried pushing past him, Dick wrapping his arms around him to keep him in place.

"She needs me! I can't leave her!" Tim tried fighting out of his hold, he needed to get to Rory to see if he made it in time. The thought of her slipping away while he was stuck outside was killing him, he had to be there.

Tim slowly lost the fight in him, and slumped against Dick's arms and let the cries out. Dick held him close to his chest, comforting Tim as he cried begging and pleading that she would be okay.

The door in front of them opened and out came Steph, she had tears in her eyes. "Jason got her to surgery, they're working on her now. I brought clothes for Tim, let's get him inside and cleaned up."

Dick gave her a nod and helped his little brother to his feet and led him through the door and toward a bathroom. Jason, Damian, Alfred, and Bruce were waiting there for them, concerned at the state Tim was in. He looked devastated, the light in his eyes was gone as Dick took the clothes Damian was holding and helped him in with Jason and Damian right behind.

Bruce went to follow his sons when Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Let them take care of him, Master Bruce, Master Tim needs his brothers. Let him come to you when he is ready."

Bruce looked at his butler and nodded slowly. "You're right Alfred, let's go sit with the others and check on them."

Alfred gave him a nod of approval and followed Bruce as they sat with Cass, Steph, and Babs who were in the waiting room.

Damian was the last in the bathroom and he locked the door behind him, not wanting any intruders interrupting them. Dick had Tim at the sink with his cowl off, the naturally bright look he had was gone. His eyes had almost gone a dull grey and it worried him to see Tim this way.

Tim had gotten a look at himself in the mirror, it looked like he had walked out of a horror movie. He was covered in blood; so much blood that his stomach turned at the thought of how much Rory had left in her. His face had smears across it, the thick substance dried to his skin.

Dick had grabbed a paper towel and started to wipe the dried blood off his face slowly. Tim stayed quiet the whole time, not sure what to say anymore. The scene of Rory slumping over as Slade stood above her wouldn't leave his mind.

His hands gripped the sink so tight, his knuckles were in pain and he swore that he heard a crack. Jason and Damian stood off to the side, they were unsure of what to do but the one thing they did know was that Tim needed them with him even if it was in silent support.

Dick finished wiping the blood off his face and gave Tim a sad look. "Alright, we need to get the suit off you. Do you need help getting it off?"

Tim's eyes glanced over at Dick and nodded slowly. This was when Jason and Damian stepped forward as Tim discarded the suit the two of them picked up the pieces and placed them in a trash bag to get back to the manor so it can get cleaned.

His chest still had blood on him, it had seeped through his suit as he held Rory in his arms and Tim felt sick. Quickly he turned and vomited into the toilet, whimpering as his body heaved the contents of his stomach out of him. Jason walked over and sat next to Tim, on the floor holding a rag and the clean clothes.

"Come on babybird, let's get you into some clothes okay?"

Tim nodded and took the rag, wiping the rest of the blood off of him before taking the shirt from Jason and pulling it over his body. Dick and Damian both took his hands and pulled him to his feet so he could get the sweats on. His legs were shaking under him, so he leaned against Jason as he pulled them on.

Looking in the mirror again, he looked better than he did but his eyes were still dull. "Was there any news?" he asked, speaking for the first time since he stepped into the building.

"She's in surgery, and we'll get the updates as they happen," Jason explained.

Tim nodded as he pulled on the shoes and ran a hand through his hair. "Let's head over then." The other three nodded and led Tim out of the bathroom and towards the waiting room where the others were waiting for them.

Walking in, Tim saw that the whole family was there along with Roy and Jesse. They had stayed in Gotham, wanting to have some time for themselves and be close to Rory in case she needed them again. The two of them were sat in a corner, Roy's face was red with tears as Jesse held him and tried to comfort him.

Hearing the boys come in, they all looked up and Steph got up and ran over to Tim and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Are you alright, Tim?" she asked.

Tim wrapped his arms around her and shook his head, "Not really Steph..." he muttered.

She pulled out pf the hug and looked at him, worry written all over her face. "Everything is going okay so far, Rory is alive. You got her here in time."

Tim looked around, he wanted to see Rory but he knew that it was impossible while she was in surgery. Bruce stood up from his seat and walked over, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Tim, why don't you come and sit? We'll get you a cup of coffee and all of us will wait here with you okay?"

He looked up at his adoptive father and hugged him tightly. Bruce looked a little surprised at his action as he wrapped his arms around his son and held him tight as Tim cried into his shirt. He rubbed his back as he held Tim close to himself.

"I wasn't there to stop him... I promised that I would protect her and I failed Bruce." he sobbed.

"Tim, you didn't fail her. Rory is still alive because of you, you brought her here and she is being taken care of as we speak." Bruce comforted. Tim looked up at him as he wiped his eyes.

"Thanks, Bruce," he said softly.

He looked down at him and gave him a smile. "Of course, son."

He led Tim to an open seat as Cass came over with a large cup of coffee. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" she asked softly.

At her words, Roy and Jesse looked up. He knew for sure that they would want to know what had happened. With a sigh, Tim inhaled the scent of his coffee and felt himself relax softly.

"It was Deathstroke, I don't know what happened but when she came into view I noticed that she wasn't alone. Upon closer inspection, I noticed who it was. It didn't matter how fast I ran, I didn't get there quick enough before he took her down and stabbed her with his sword."

As he explained it, the memory flashed in his mind again and his hands began to shake once more. Dick noticed and took the cup from his hands before kneeling in front of him. "Tim, look at me."

His eyes rose up from the ground and looked to Dick. "It's okay, you don't need to tell us anymore. Why don't you get some rest, we'll all be right here listening for news."

Tim wanted to fight, but he had spent all of his energy fighting Dick and worrying about Rory that he just simply gave him a nod and leaned his head on Steph's shoulder and instantly fell asleep.

As Tim slept, everyone kept an ear out for anything related to Rory. It was about three hours after Tim had fallen asleep that a nurse walked in and looked around.

"I am looking for Mister Wayne?" she asked.

Bruce sat up, his suit jacket was draped across Tim's body as he and Steph slept quietly. Quietly, he stood and walked over. "That would be me, how is she?"

Those who were still awake, Roy, Jason, and Damian, watched listening for anything.

"Miss Queen is alive, the operation was successful. She lost a lot of blood, so we are going to need to keep her here for further observation until she recovers enough that she can go home with you. You were very lucky this time, we almost lost her." the nurse explained.

Quickly Roy stood up and walked over. "When can we see her?" he asked.

"She is being transferred to a room as we speak, within the next hour you will be able to go in and sit with her but she will probably sleep for a while.

Bruce nodded at her words. "Thank you, and tell the doctor I said thank you as well." he smiled.

The nurse blushed a little and nodded. "Yes sir, have a good night," she called and walked back through the door.

With Roy's sudden movement, Jesse had woken up and stood next to Roy and took his hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Anything new babe?" he asked.

"Rory's out of surgery, we'll be able to see her soon," Roy muttered. Jesse sighed and pulled Roy back over to their chairs.

"Now that you know she is okay, get some rest Roy." he pushed Roy onto the chair and grabbed his jacket, and propped it behind his head. Almost the second his head rested on the jacket Roy was out like a light.

Jason watched the interaction between Bruce and the Nurse with Damian sat at his feet playing a game on his phone. "So when we can go back, are we going to wake him, or do you want me to take him home?"

Bruce shook his head. "No, you and I both know that he will be better off seeing her first before even bringing up the thought of going back to the manor. What you can do is get the other's back, maybe make them sleep. I'll stay here with Tim, Roy, and Jesse. Those two are not technically mine, so I can't make them do anything."

Jason huffed a laugh at his words "You can't make me do anything B, but I can usher them back to the manor."

Bruce rolled his eyes with a light chuckle. "You never did anything I told you to begin with."

Jason flashed him a grin before poking Dick awake and informing him of the situation. He agreed with a yawn and started to wake the others slowly, making sure that they didn't wake Tim in the process.

Jason had to literally carry Steph out of the room, she was so tired as Dick followed with Cass and Damian at his side. Barbara had gone home hours ago, she had her dad pick her up explaining that Rory had an accident and she was there to support the others with Alfred following behind.

Bruce watched as they left, his eyes glancing over at Tim who was still asleep and curled up with his suit jacket. It had been another hour before the nurse returned, offering to escort them to her room. Bruce gave her a nod before he gently shook Tim awake.

Tim jumped, the jacket sliding off his torso as he looked around. "Where's Rory? How is she? Is she okay?" he asked quickly.

Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder, picking up the jacket. "She got out of surgery an hour ago, the nurse is ready to take us to her room. Come on." He helped Tim to his feet and grabbed the cup of coffee that was still slightly warm.

The four of them followed the nurse down the halls towards the room they had set aside for Rory. It was the last door on the right on the fourth floor, and she slowly opened the door. Tim was frozen in place, scared of what he would see on the other side. He knew her injures were bad, but that didn't stop the fear creep up into his heart.

Roy looked and saw the look on Tim's face. "Come on kiddo, we'll go in together." Tim looked at Roy and gave him a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Roy."

The two of them took a deep breath as they walked into the room. Tim's breath caught in his throat at the sight of Rory in the hospital bed. She had IVs in both arms filled with saline water and blood with an oxygen tube in her nose. His eyes filled with tears, Rory looked so fragile like this.

Rory was anything but fragile, and she would kick his ass if she ever knew he thought that. Roy had a similar reaction. Jesse walked in and took Roy's hand as Tim walked in further and took a seat next to the bed. Bruce stood and watched from the doorway as his son took Rory's hand and ran his thumb across the cold skin.

"I'm sorry..." he cried softly, unable to stop the tears from falling. "I didn't keep my promise, but I swear that I will be here for you every day." Tim wiped the tears, not letting go of her hand. He could feel her pulse faintly under his fingers and it told him that she was alive but not by much.

He had so many things he wanted to do with her, and this night made him realize that he could lose Rory in the blink of an eye. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, have a family with her amongst many other things like going back to France, and taking her to see his favorite places around the world.

He placed a soft kiss on her hand, not daring to let go in case she disappeared right out from under his fingers.