#I NEED TO LEARN THIS GAME BATSY

[kizzer55555]

What if we change it up a little? Beings do not have a natural crime multiplier, instead, they gain it from prison breaks. So Walker’s card could look something like this. When he is on the field, he adds a list of ‘rules’. The first being something like lying about a rune, taking an artifact/object that was unequipped from an opponent while within line of sight of Walker or his goons, or possibly framed for a crime like if they land on a trap card. (Maybe even a card called ‘crime of convenience’ where if you pass by or land on this dud card within line of sight of Walker or his goons, you are framed for a crime so a hood strategy could be to place a police goon by that card or something). And then Walker can add a new rule of their choice every turn as long as it does not interfere with the game mechanics (so you can’t say stuff like if you don’t follow this rule, I win the game. Or if you don’t tap your deck, your character takes 10 damage). When you are caught not following a rule, you gain a crime counter.

Anyways, the crime counters can either make Walker stronger or force someone into jail (if Walker’s jail is on the field, which could probably be a location). Basically, the amount of crime counters you have determines what happens. Maybe Walker gets +10 to his attack and +1 will for every being with a crime counter on them (regardless of numbers). If Walker defeats someone while his jail in on the field, then instead of sticking them in a thermos, he sends them to that location. Anyone besides Walker and his goons (or a human) gets stuck in that location of they pass through it or land there, or if they transport there in a natural portal. And since the win condition is ‘capture all ghosts’ it counts even if a ghost isn’t in a thermos. So for example, if Pariah Dark hadn’t been summoned yet and is still in his coffin, or if a ghost is in ‘jail’ that counts as ‘captured’. Anyways, the ghost are now in jail but since they aren’t in a thermos, they can try to get out. To escape

There could probbaly be a few ways this could happen. Maybe there’s a jailbreak card, or they can use one of their movements and make a roll, if they get the highest roll (or just a high roll). Or maybe they and their oponent both roll and if you roll higher than your oponent (or tie?) you escape? Or maybe they could try attacking the prison? (Or a Halfa could just transform into a human and then are no longer affected and can leave the location.) I’ll decide how escape is possible later. What matters is that once a ghost escapes, they gain a crime multiplier. They all start out with a multiplier of 1. First escape gets a 2, second escape gets a 3 and so on. And the more crimes you have, the easier it is to get caught again. (And maybe Walker could get something like for every 3 crimes, he Gaines +10 attack and +1 will? Maybe not though.) But basically how it works is that of you have 1-3 crimes, Walker or his goons have to defeat your being to send them to jail (only works on ghosts though. Humans just get sent to the graveyard.). If you have 4-7 crimes, Walker doesn’t need to defeat you. He can roll, and of it’s higher than your will, you are automatically sent to jail. (and I’m debating if humans just aren’t affected or if they can still be transported to the jail, they can just leave it unlike ghosts. So a strategy could be to put traps or curses around the jail?). And if you have 8-10 crime counters, then if the attacker has a higher Will than their opponent (which is Walker the more crimes others commit) then any prison personal can just outright attack you and you are sent to jail. If their will is lower, they still need to roll higher than the oponent’s will and they do 10 extra damage if an attack lands (effective against human opponents). And if it’s 11 or more crime counters, then it starts a manhunt and all prison personal gain a free movement per turn as long as it’s in the direction of an escaped prisoner.

DP x DC: The Most Dangerous Card Game

Ok so Danny has essentially claimed earth as his. And he is fully aware that there are constant threats to the planet. Now he can’t stop a threat that originates on earth (that’s something he’ll leave to the Justice league) but he can do something about outside threats. Doing some research on ancient spells, rituals, and artifacts, he cast a world wide barrier on the planet to protect it from hostile threats so they cannot enter. This will prevent another Pariah Dark incident. However, barriers like this come at a price. You see, there are two ways to make a barrier. Either make one powered up by your own energy and power (which would be constantly draining) or set up a barrier with rules. The way magic works is that nothing can be absolutely indestructible. It must have a weakness. The most powerful barriers weren’t the ones reinforced with layer after layer of protective charms and buffed up with power. Those could eventually be destroyed either by being overpowered, wearing them down, or by cutting off the original power source. No, the most powerful barriers were the ones with a deliberate weakness. A barrier indestructible except for one spot. A cage that can only be opened from the outside. Or that can only be passed with a key or by solving a riddle. So Danny chooses this type of barrier and does the necessary ritual and pours in enough power to make it. And he adds his condition for anyone to enter. 

Now the Justice league? Find out about the barrier when Trigon attempts to attack, they were preparing after he threatened what he would do once he got to earth. How he would destroy them. The Justice league tried to take the fight to him first but were utterly destroyed, so they retreated home to tend to their injuries, and fortify earth for one. Last. Stand. Only when Trigon makes his big entrance…he’s stopped.

The Justice league watch in awe as this thin see-through barrier with beautiful green swirls and speckled white lights like stars apears blocking Trigon and his army’s advance. The barrier looks so thin and fragile yet no matter how hard the warlord hits, none of his attacks can get through and neither can he damage said barrier. That’s when Constantine and Zatanna recognizes what this barrier is. Something only a powerful entity could create. For a moment, the league is filled with hope that Trigon can’t get through yet Constantine also explains that it’s not impenetrable. And clearly Trigon knows this too for he calls out a challenge. 

And that’s when, in a flash of light, a tiny glowing teenager appears. He looked absolutly minuscule compared to Trigon and yet practically glowed with power (this isn’t a King Danny AU though).

And that is when the conditions for passing the barrier are revealed. And the Justice realize that the only thing stopping Trigon and his army from decimating earth. The only way he can get through….is by beating this glowing teenager in a card game. 

Not just any card game though. The most convoluted game Sam, Danny, and Tucker invented themselves. It’s like the infinite realms version of magic the gathering, combined with Pokémon, and chess. And Danny is the master. So sit down Trigon and let’s play.

(The most intense card game of the Justice league’s life).

After Danny wins, this happens a few more times with outer word beings and possibly even demons attempting to invade earth, yet none have been able to beat the mysterious teenager in a card game. Constantine might even take a crack at it and try to figure out how to play. He’s really bad though. Every time this happens, the Justice league worry that this might be the time the teenager looses. Yet every time, he wins (even if only barely). 

Meanwhile, Danny, Sam, and Tucker have gotten addicted to the game and play it almost daily. Some teachers might seem them playing the game are are like ‘awww how cute’ not realizing this game is literally saving the world. Jazz is just happy they aren’t spending as much time on their screens playing Doomed.

[fictionkinfessions]

I think I can finally let people in on the joke, but I knew Bruce Wayne was Batman not too long after we kept having altercations, but it was pathetic, especially knowing the secret about the Waynes that HE himself didn't even know. Spoiler, Bruce-y, but you're NOT a Wayne. Neither were your parents! Isn't that HYSTERICAL?? Your ancestors KILLED the Waynes, stole their identities, fortune, and everything. So the poor little orphan was even more of an orphan than he himself even knew, and couldn't help but dragging others along for the ride. The worst part? Alfred knew. And now, that just makes the irony sad. He saw you as his son, and yet lied to you about everything, because he believed that you couldn't handle the truth. Never could. You're more of a joke than I ever was. That's why you never could rattle me. Look this up if you don't believe me or know about it, and don't say I didn't warn you. I just hope someone finds this as funny as I do. The robins had every right to turn their backs until you had your head straight, the damn commissioner too. They all NEVER thought to look into the release fund for all of Batsy's little endeavors and never once noticed it was always paid off by Wayne Corp. Businesses. You were sloppy, or didn't expect anyone to care. True that the government stepping in would have made things trickier, for you and a lot of folks, but at least it wouldn't be SOLEY going into the reparations from a loose canon vigilante with technology he never shared with the cops and should have. They could have improved the city, you just kept it where it was and it slowly got worse while you hid up in your fake and stolen ivory tower so you could feel good after punching people and collecting orphans. No one cared to look into it, for a long time, but I did. That money should have been for the poor you never liberated, instead you continued your sick game until MORE people died and you had to put back on your big boy pants and take off the costume from a hurt little boy who never was ever held responsible for anything but his own shame in the mirror. Grow up Bats, learn the truth, and maybe you'll lighten up. We all know you need it. Gotham never needed more darkness, but you still forced them to have the dark night with nothing but secrets and revenge on the mind. You're a hypocrite and you know it, that's why you hate me so much. We're so much alike, but I'm free to live in my own conscious, instead of being a prisoner to it, unlike a certain nepo baby.

- unfortunately the joker and jack

x

[ragingbookdragon]

My Brother's Best Friend Is The One For Me

Wally West x Batsis!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Got to rereading my Batsis fics and came across the "What A Flashy Romance" and wanted to do another one with Wally because I love him. Enjoy! -Thorne

Being the middle child and also the only girl in the Batfamily meant two things:

1. She had four brothers that treated her like a porcelain doll, despite the fact that she could throw a punch at 336 PSI.

And

2. She followed an unspoken rule that Dick and Jason’s friends were off limits when it came to dating.

In all, neither of those things were major problems. She’d learned at a young age how to avoid Dick and Jason’s overbearing-protective-brother-modes, and Tim and Damian were younger, so she didn’t have to worry about them. The second one was also avoidable—most of her older brothers’ friends were the same, and she wasn’t around most of them to develop any feelings.

Well, there was Wally, but it was just a crush. A stupid, little school-girl crush—that she’d never really grown out of—that didn’t matter in the slightest. Except whenever Dick brought him over to the house and she had to pretend that sitting next to him didn’t make her heart race like she’d run a mile.

And the most annoying thing about the whole crush is that she couldn’t tell if Wally was ever interested in her or not. Most of Dick’s friends, Garth, Kyle, Roy, they treated her like a little sister—hell, they even said “Love you lil sis!” to her regularly. And yet, Wally didn’t. Now, there was the occasional head pat, but even that was an affectionate gesture that siblings and SO’s did all the time. It was infuriating, and so was Wally—but she was going to sort it all out the next time he came over because the worst thing he could say was “No”, and either she needed to hear that…or “Yes”.

***

Normal Sundays for the Wayne household usually meant Ultimate Waffle Breakfast and sitting on your ass all day until patrol—it was the one day of the week where they could do anything and nothing and didn’t have to stick to schedules. Everyone loved Sundays, especially (Y/N), because it meant that all of her family was home, even Jason (who tried to deny that he enjoyed coming home to hang out, but if that mile long grin was any help, he was lying). And while everyone was home, that usually meant that everybody’s friends were coming over too.

***

She swiped the syrup out of Jason’s hand when he swung it back around, grinning at him when he glared at her.

“I was gonna use that, (Y/N),” he griped, and she shrugged, uncapping the bottle.

She tipped it over and watched the syrup lazily pour out of the container onto her waffles.

“You were taking too long.” Her eyes twinkled with humor. “I guess you were as…slow as molasses.”

While most of the table groaned at her terrible joke, Dick snorted into his milk, causing it to splatter on his plate and across the table.

“Nice one,” he coughed, wiping his face and the dark oak surface.

(Y/N) bowed dramatically. “Well, I did learn from the best.” When Dick’s face lit up, she turned to Alfred and smiled. “Alfie, thank you for teaching me your ways.”

The old butler merely tipped his head, a hidden smile crossing his lips at the way the eldest son’s jaw went slack. She turned her attention to Bruce who was quietly chewing, eyes following along the research paper she’d asked him to check out.

“Dad, what’s on your agenda for today?”

He swallowed and flicked a line out with a red pen, etching his own comment in the margin. “Lucius has a few ideas about some new gadgets he wanted to run by me.” Another line went out. “I’ll call him after breakfast.” Bruce looked at her. “You?”

(Y/N) nodded at the paper in his hands, then slapped Jason’s who was reaching over to take a piece of bacon from her plate. “Waiting for you to finish tearing me a new one so I can redo the paper.” She cut into the waffle with the side of her fork. “Once I salvage what little scientific dignity you’ve left me with, I’ll probably laze around.”

“You mean what you do normally?” Bruce quipped, grinning when she glowered at him; his eyes went back to her paper. “You’re doing well so far.”

She huffed. “Tell that to every red line you’ve marked out in that paragraph.”

He flashed the paper. “I’m writing in the margins how to change it. This isn’t a dissertation, sweetheart. You’re allowed to make mistakes. We all do.”

(Y/N) grumbled as her cheeks warmed and she went back to her plate as the conversation flowed around her.

Most of it was the discussion of what everyone was planning on doing, Damian was going to play video games, Tim was going to join him (which she knew was going to be fun while the moment lasted until the petty sibling rivalry got in the way and their gaming dwindled into a physical fight that she and probably Dick were going to have to break up), Jason was going to use the workbench in the cave to upgrade some gear, and Dick apparently,

“Wally and Garth are gonna come over later and hang out.”

She paused, mid-stab of her fork and looked at up. “Wally’s coming over?”

He nodded. “And Garth. We were gonna go to the mall and get some new clothes.”

Jason snorted, laying an arm over the backs of Tim and (Y/N)’s chairs. “Spending money with daddy’s credit card, Dickie?”

Dick smirked. “Just like you.” Jason merely matched his grin, and while the entire table was cracking up at Bruce’s frown, (Y/N) was silent, heart beating faster at the thought of seeing Wally.

“(Y/N)?” She startled and looked up at Dick.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were okay. You got quiet all of the sudden.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Yeah, just thought about all of the corrections I’m gonna have to do because somebody CAN’T STOP MARKING OUT MY PARAGRAPHS.” Bruce merely smiled and knocked out another line.

It was a lie. It was the biggest lie she’d told right next to the one she told when Bruce had asked her where she was on prom night her senior year a few years ago—she was totally not saving a different sector of the universe with Kyle Rayner, she was dancing with Sam Reilly all night—she strongly believed her dad knew the truth—Batman knew everything.

Bruce handed the paper back to her and she groaned as she scanned the red lines on every page. It was going to take her hours to go over this.

Jason leaned over and read the title, “Cellular Division and Mutation Under Extreme Elemental Circumstances…a composition by (Y/N) Wayne.” He cocked a dark brow. “Go big or go home, huh, baby girl?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Doctor Halberd wanted us to pick challenging topics for the research paper this term.” A crooked smile crossed her lips. “I’m nothing if not ambitious about proving I’m smarter than everyone else.”

“You need another source,” Bruce murmured, sipping the steaming black coffee. “One-fourteen is good, but I’d go for one-fifteen.”

She groaned and dropped her head. “Are you kidding me? I had enough trouble gathering that many.”

“Why don’t you use Barry?” Tim piped up, mouth full of whip cream and strawberries.

“Master Timothy, we do not talk with our mouth full,” Alfred admonished, and Tim blushed.

(Y/N)’s head shot up and she stared at her brother. “That’s actually a good idea. Speedsters would make for perfect references about cellular division.” An idea popped into her head and she glanced at Dick. “And since Wally is com—”

“Nope,” Dick interrupted, pointing at her. “Wally is coming over to hang out, not to be poked and prodded to finish a paper.”

She let out a whine and turned to Bruce. “Dad, tell Dick to let me at least talk to Wally about it.”

Bruce turned his attention onto Dick. “Let your sister talk to Wally about her paper.”

“Oh, come on,” he complained and (Y/N) stood from her seat, hurrying around the table to stand behind Dick’s seat.

She draped herself over his shoulders, tucking her chin in the crook of his neck. “I promise I won’t be annoying if you let me come with you. I’ll ask two questions every thirty minutes and I’ll go do shopping on my own, so I won’t be in the way.” (Y/N) craned her neck and pulled the most pitiful puppy eyes she could. “Please?”

Dick’s eyes darted to her face and then he looked away. Just one more push.

“Please frate?” she begged and when his eyes went wide from the usage of his native tongue, she knew she’d won him over.

He deflated and let out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbled. “You can come with us.”

(Y/N) squealed and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone, as she grabbed the paper and hurried towards the door. She halted and spun around, looking at her father.

“What do I need to be most specific about?”

“Division under elemental circumstances.”

She glowered at him. “No shit Sherlock. Specifics.”

“Molecular division under terrestrial gamma-ray flashes.”

“That’ll work,” (Y/N) nodded and exited to room.

Jason looked out the door then back to his brothers. “She’s way to excited about science sometimes.” They merely laughed.

***

She raised the red lace, cold shoulder V-neck shirt to her chest before frowning, and switching it with the full lace blue shirt with mini golden lightning bolt charms hanging off the trim. After a moment, she pulled the blue one down and sighed.

“You know, if you want to impress him, I’d wear the red shirt.”

She jumped and barely managed to suppress the scream that was coming up in her throat as she swiveled around to face her door. Jason stood in the doorway, a knowing look on his face. She could play this one of two ways: she could be truthful, or she could lie—she chose the latter.

“What do you mean?” He snorted and walked into her room, taking a seat at her desk.

“I mean if you’re trying to impress Wally, wear the shirt that’s the color of his suit, (Y/N).” She looked away and into the mirror, but she couldn’t escape the eyes boring into her back.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked quietly, and he laughed.

“That you’re head over heels for Dick’s best friend? Oh yeah. Totally.”

She sighed and sat on her bed, pulling the red top over her torso. “It’s just a crush.”

“Seems like more than a crush to me, baby girl.”

(Y/N) pulled the fabric down and looked at him. “Are you gonna tell Dick?”

Jason scoffed. “Do I look like a narc to you?”

She cocked a brow and deadpanned, “Just the other night you told dad that Damian lifted Two-Face’s wallet when he was being put in a cruiser.”

“Well, that wasn’t something important,” he countered and nodded at her. “This is.” He paused and shrugged. “Nah, I’m not gonna tell Dickhead. Play this out however you see fit, baby girl.”

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment then averted her gaze and let out a sigh; Jason huffed.

“That sounds like a heavy sigh, (Y/N). What’s wrong?”

She shrugged. “I don’t even know if Wally would be interested in me. He’s him and I’m me.”

Jason stood and walked over, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

(Y/N) met his eyes. “Anytime he’s had a girlfriend she’s always been super strong or really outspoken.”

“And you’re not?” he quipped, causing her to huff.

“You know what I mean, Jay.”

He nodded. “Okay, so you’re not an Amazon or shoving your head up someone’s ass for a story. But you’re you.”

“And that means?”

“You’re the only daughter of the World’s Greatest Detective who’s a wicked smart science major by day and a badass vigilante by night.” He cupped her cheeks. “You are intelligent, warmhearted, talented, and absolutely beautiful.” Jason smushed her cheeks together and grinned as she giggled. “And if Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time. You hear me, baby girl?”

She nodded. “I hear you.”

Jason gave her a firm nod and let go, standing to his feet. “Now come on let’s go do your makeup.”

(Y/N) blinked. “You can do makeup?”

“Baby girl, I can do a lot of things. Now hurry up. That razor sharp eye liner and golden eyeshadow isn’t going to do itself.”

***

She waited beside Dick with a pleasant smile on her face, and despite the fluttering heartbeat in her chest, Jason’s pep talk kept running through her head and with every passing moment, she felt her confidence rising. He was right, if she told Wally and he didn’t feel the same, then it was his loss and her gain to move on and find someone else.

A black sedan pulled up at the manor and the passenger window rolled down, revealing Wally at the wheel and Garth in the passenger’s seat. Dick waved at them.

“Hey guys,” he greeted. “How was the drive over?”

“Oh, you know, we saw three carjacking’s and one armed robbery,” Garth quipped. “I assume that’s normal for Gotham though.”

“It’s a bit below average actually,” (Y/N) piped up. “Hi Garth. Hi Wally.”

Wally smiled and Garth waved in return as the two siblings started getting in the car.

“You’re coming with us, (Y/N)?” Wally questioned and she nodded.

“Do you want me to lie to you or give you the truth?”

He chuckled. “I’m always open for a good story.”

“I wanted to buy out Victoria’s Secret and piss off any boyfriends who are in hot water with their girlfriends.” The guys laughed and she admitted, “Truth though, I need one last source for a research paper.”

“Gonna find that source shopping?” Garth asked and (Y/N) caught Wally’s eyes in the rear-view mirror.

“Actually, my last source is Wally.”

They fell silent and looked at her, though the speedster’s focus was on the road.

“What are you gonna source Wally on?” The Atlantean inquired.

“My paper is over cellular mutation under distress from elemental conditions.” She smiled at Wally. “Our speedster here, is a walking subject perfect for the paper. I can only hope that he agrees to be a willing participant.”

Wally chuckled. “I’d be willing to part with a few secrets for you. Of course, I’d have to—”

“Remain anonymous.” (Y/N) winked. “I’m sure my professor would be okay with me citing ‘The Flash’ so long as I had a picture with him to back it up.”

“I like pictures,” he murmured, pulling into the parking lot.

“That’s good to know,” she replied and when he put the car in park, she took her purse and added, “So I’ll leave you boys to do your shopping and Wally, I’ll text you any questions I have.”

“You’re not gonna hang around?” Garth asked and she shook her head.

“Nah, I don’t wanna be the annoying little sister who follows her older brother and his friends around.” She smiled at them. “Besides, Dick was kind enough to let me come along. Least I can do is stay out of your way.”

(Y/N) opened the door and waved at them. “Text me when you’re ready to leave and I’ll meet you back here.”

***

Despite the initial joke that she was going to buy out the lingerie store, there was actually some truth in the statement, and she drew her fingers over one of the lace baby dolls as she looked at her phone, grinning like a dope at Wally’s response.

Well, I wouldn’t say I’d grow a second skin from how fast my cells regenerate, but I can make my body heal instantaneously. -W

Can you regenerate limbs or major organs? –(Y/I)

Major organs or useful ones? -W

(Y/N) paused at his response and thought for a moment. It was risky. Sending the text, she was thinking about was risky, but it’d sure get her point across that she was into him. With her heart hammering in her chest, she pushed send and stuck her phone in her pocket.

Whichever ones are useful to you, Wally? ;) –(Y/N)

Her phone didn’t buzz for a good minute, and Wally took less than a second to reply, so he was doing one of two things: A.) Telling Dick that his younger sister sent a flirty text, or B.) Trying to figure out how to let her down easy. (Y/N) didn’t know which one was worse. Her hip buzzed and she inhaled shakily, pulling her phone out of her pocket with one eye cracked open to see how screwed she was.

Do you have a useful one in mind, beautiful? -W

She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from letting out the biggest gasp any human had ever made, and she nervously looked around her to make sure no one else was staring at her. She grinned as she replied to him.

Oh, I could think of one…or two or three…Why? Is there gonna be a pop quiz over this later? I’ll have you know I’m an excellent test taker. –(Y/N)

Is that so? Well, what happens if you were to fail this particular pop quiz, (Y/N)? -W

I guess you’d have to stay the night for a study session and help me make a better grade ;) –(Y/I)

As she waited for another response, someone’s hand touched the small of her back and she reacted, immediately stepping away from the offending touch to spin on them. Her eyes went wide when she saw Wally standing before her, a grin on his face, phone in his hand.

“I think an overnight study session is possible, (Y/N).”

Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a fish until she finally got her brain to work and asked, “I thought you were shopping with Dick and Garth?”

He shrugged. “Told Dick you asked me an advanced question that’d be easier to answer in person than over text.” He wiggled his brows. “You know, advanced equations and scientific gibberish.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and turned back around, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she picked up one of the teddies. And when she realized what it looked like, she only felt more flustered. Crimson with baby blue trimming and was practically a shoelace.

“Well, that’sa hint if there ever was one,” Wally quipped, and she pulled the lingerie out of his line of sight.

“It was just the first one I grabbed!” she exclaimed, snapping her mouth shut when people looked over at them. Her cheeks felt like they were wildfires, and she pressed her head against the cool metal of the rack, sighing with what little relief it provided.

“You know, (Y/N),” he started softly. “If you’re not comfortable, this doesn’t have to go anywhere. I can forget this ever happened if you want me to.” (Y/N) opened her eyes and peered at him, at the concern but also the kindness in his gaze.

“I just—” she murmured and trailed off before letting out a sigh. “It’s kinda complicated.”

“Okay,” Wally nodded. “My mouth might work faster than my brain sometimes but lay it on me.”

She cracked a smile and thought back on Jason’s words. If Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and looked at him, admitting, “Wally, I have…feelings for you.” His eyes widened and though she felt the sting of embarrassment, she pushed out her words. “It’s stupid, like one of those dumb childhood crushes that just sticks with you, you know?”

She averted her gaze and looked at her peep toe heels. “I just don’t wanna screw anything up because even if you don’t feel anything like I do, I don’t wanna lose you as a friend. Because I do value your friendship.” She sighed. “And Dick. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable about coming over to see him if there’s a chance you’ll have to see me too. I just—”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Wally interrupted gently, a smile growing on his face. “You’re thinking way big here, (Y/N). Bigger than you need to right now.”

She met his eyes. “Right now?” she repeated, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. His fingers felt tingly against her palm and he smiled.

“I like you, (Y/N).”

She blinked at him, practically dumbfounded. “You…you do?”

Wally nodded and confessed, “Have for a couple years, but I didn’t wanna make a move not knowing if you were interested.” His cheeks tinged pink, and he said, “But I’m glad you are. Like super glad.” (Y/N) giggled, suddenly feeling really foolish for all her worry and Wally let out a chuckle too.

She stared at him for a moment, relishing the coolness of his skin before pulling away, toying with the teddy in her other hand.

“So, about tonight…you staying over?”

Wally let out a groan and looked between her and the lingerie. “Probably, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get away long enough to spend some time alone with you.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘pfft’ and winked. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Flash. You are the fastest man alive.”

“You’re into quickies? Good to know,” he grinned.

“Shut up,” she giggled.

[the-last-laugh]

"We've been playing this game for a while now, Son." The Joker spoke with a heavy heart. "And I just have to say, I'm impressed."

"All that pain." He patted Jason's cracked and broken skin with a heavy handed show of false affection. "You could have avoided it all..."

With a quick, sporadic movement, he began to pace around the boy strapped to the chair. "So I asked myself. I said - 'J. You should throw the kid a bone. Give him a little break.' But of course, our little game has rules." And his face split into a toothy grin, he braced his hands on Jason's shoulders and squeezed. "So I had to think outside the box a little."

"It took me a while to find him, I'll admit." The Joker stands, dusting his stained suit off lightly, and reaches into his suit jacket pocket, pulling out a polaroid of a man, dishevelled and gagged, squinting from the flash. He dangles it infront of the boy's face, too close at first for him to see properly. "Recognise him? It's been a while. He's still selling drugs to single mothers down on their luck... Seemingly, he didn't learn anything." He muses on, letting Jason catch up to his point.

"No innocent civilian this time, Jason dear. Crane needs a test subject for his latest batch, and it'll be you, or him. Nice and easy. Whaddya say?" The boy had been growing quieter for weeks, the abuse taking its toll. This. This was it.

Joker moves in closer, crouching down on one knee, eyes gleaming as he asks the question. "What does Batsy call that ridiculous car of his? Hm?"

The clap jerked Jason awake, but the movement had him gasping in pain. He had no idea how long he'd been strapped down like this, but there wasn't a part of him that wasn't hurting him. Pulling at him. Burning him...

Jason's eyes darted briefly to his hand, the skin still raw and seeping after Sionis' visit, his fingers painfully contracted against the arm rests.

Jason clenched his eyes shut, his breathing shallow, as he forced himself to listen to the ramblings of the mad clown pacing in front of him. But when the clown leaned in close, Jason froze. He felt long fingers against his cheek, soft. Almost caring.

It sickened him.

Jason pointedly kept his mouth shut, waiting for the question, for the punchline. Waiting for the stakes to reveal themselves.

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

A sweet life

Fandom: DC Pairing: Baby!Batsis x Batfamily Word count: 1.2k Summary: A little excerpt of a day of baby!batsis lifes and all the sweetness Requested by a sweet, fluffy Anon: Are they requests open if so can u write a batfam x baby!batsis reader like something fluff you decide

Our story begins on a nice, sunny morning in Gotham city - a morning that had a rare feeling of peace and calm to it - and in the bedroom of local billionaire and vigilante Bruce Wayne in Wayne Manor. Only a few of the golden sunrays found their ways through the almost closed blinds and landed on the man himself, laying on his back on the mattress with one arm stretched out beside him and the other protective wrapped around the little bundle that was laying on his chest - snoring ever so quietly. Y/N Wayne, newest and youngest addition to the family, would usually be found here in the mornings, even if the evening before she was brought to bed in her own room only a few doors away by one of her family members. It was a lovable, if maybe sometimes a bit frustrating for Alfred, trait that Bruce could not help himself but take the sleeping Y/N to his room when he came home from patrol and saw her lying there in her crib. He just wanted to feel her warmth, know that she was safe and protected at his side, that he would be there to keep her away from all the darkness and the horrors he experienced everyday in this cruel world. It was rather fortunate that over all the years of training and fighting Bruce has build up a habit of staying completely still in his sleep and it seemed that Y/N had somehow inherited that, because she too was always completely still - except for the occasional wiggle - on his chest - both things that helped calm Alfred down slightly every time he thought about what would happen if Bruce turned unluckily in his sleep and she’d be crushed or thrown off the bed (not that that had or would ever happen). But, no matter how often he advocated that she had to learn to sleep alone sooner rather than later, Alfred couldn’t find it in him to actually tell Bruce to let her be in her own bed, so the routine stayed steady and Y/n always woke up on her fathers chest. Or rather that she was woken up. Because, just like Bruce who came to her at night to make sure if she was okay - only to take her with him - Alfred, who was unsurprisingly always awake first, no matter what was going on, quietly made his way into the room to make sure Y/N had survived this night as well. And, as if she could sense him coming him, Y/N’s cute half-squeal-half-yawn made him aware of her now awake state so - seeing as Bruce needed all the sleep he could get and he wanted some time with his granddaughter as well - Alfred did the same he did almost every morning and pulled Y/N out of Bruce’s embrace, exchanging her with a pillow so that Bruce wouldn’t wake up, and went with her to her own room while she was slowly waking up completely. When they had arrived in the room Y/N was completely awake and squealing in happiness at Alfred’s funny faces he pulled to entertain her a little bit. “How about we’ll get you ready and get you some breakfast after, does that sound good?” The only answer Alfred got, and needed, was your happy giggle as she clapped her chubby, little hands together. As always, Y/N (who was used to that interaction by now) tried to help as much as she could as Alfred changed her diapers and put her in a cute onesie with a bee-pattern, before picking her up and carrying her through the manner. In the kitchen he fed her, letting himself be a little more playful as he played the airplane-game with her spoon, delighted by the little giggles and the gigantic smile on her face. After that Alfred went to clean the small amount of dishes he had used to prepare Y/N’s food, thinking about what to do after, only to turn around and find her chair empty and the sound of steps that definitely belonged to a certain little demon. Sighing, Alfred shook his head but decided to let Damian have that win and get on with his daily tasks, knowing that her brother would take good care of Y/N. Damian, who was glad that he had been able to ‘abduct’ his baby-sister without her making a sound - something that he had spent weeks training her for - knew it was all worth it when she smiled up at him and raised her hand to pat his cheek. Happily entertaining her with peek-a-boo, Damian showed his softer, kinder side that had mainly developed thanks to Y/N’s presence in his life, before going to the entrance room where her stroller was standing and - like he had sensed it - Titus came padding towards Damian and Y/N with his tail wiggling happily. “You wanna take titus out for a walk?” Damian asked her seriously, even though he knew not to expect an answer, before helping her into a cute coat, shoes (even though she wasn’t walking yet) and a cute self-knitted hat by Martha Kent, strapping her into her stroller and getting Titus on his leash (which was more for the public eye than the actual use, because Titus was very well behaved with Damian and Y/N). The trip to the park was a pleasant one, not a lot of people were out so he didn’t have to worry about being talked to or someone coming to close to his sister, and Y/N seemed to be delighted by everything around her, especially once when inside the park her eyes landed on a familiar person. “Grayson, what are you doing here?” Damian asked, already annoyed at the prospect of his brother taking Y/N over. “Alfred told me you were off with the little one and I guessed you’d be here. Me and Barbara wanted to take her to buy some new clothes.” “She has enough clothes already, doesn’t she?” “Uhm..Well, I mean-” Dick scratched his neck, aware that he was caught, “-She’s going to grow bigger soon, so…” Damian sighed, aware that he didn’t have much choice, no matter how stupid Dick’s reasoning was, and rolled his eyes. So Damian said his goodbyes to Y/N and gave Dick the stroller before going back on his way to the Manor. Dick brought the little one to his car, strapped her into the baby-seat and drove to the mall where Barbara was already waiting for the two of them, happily taking her favorite ‘niece’ onto her lap as Dick took the liberty of rolling her wheelchair through the mall and through all the cute little baby stores where they bought two bags worth of clothes, toys and other baby-things for Y/N who kept on being her excited, happy self until she got tired and fell asleep in Barbara's arm. Later that day, when they had brought her back to the Manor where Cass was already waiting to watch Y/N’s favorite cartoons with her and when Tim came home in the evening he managed to win himself the right to put his little sister to bed and read her a story. And then, the cycle began again. Soon Bruce would come home from Patrol and everything would start again. All in all, Y/N’s life was pretty sweet and she herself sweetened the lives of her family in return.

[justcourttee]

So I know you've been very busy so just stay strong, I know you can do it! :) I was also wondering if I could request more sibling jasonette with the Joker going after Marinette once he finds out they're related? Take your time getting to this request if you need to, I know it'll be great when you get to it! Don't stress yourself out too much!

Thank you so much, I really do apologize for being so spotty the last month or so. I think I’m finally getting back to some sense of normal, so hopefully, I can write more :)

I hope you like it!

An Average Night in Gotham City 

Marinette couldn’t believe her luck.

Being the holder of the ladybug miraculous, you would think that everything would go her way, but it seems that Tikki had a funny way of distributing that good luck.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

The rank smell of something souring surrounded her senses as she dangled from the ceiling by her wrists. She was certain that there would be some difficult bruises to hide later but that was the least of her concerns at the moment.

“What you have is a pissed off college student. Who snatches someone from a library? Don’t you have any respect for my education?”

Something sharp poked her back causing her to hiss in pain.

“Now, now, I really do love Gotham State University and if it was game day, I wouldn’t dare step foot on our campus, Gothamite pride and all. But you my dear, well once I learned that you attended the school, I just had to stop by and say hello.”

His maniacal laughter would strike fear in the hearts of most, but honestly, she was just too pissed at this point to care.

“Okay, you said your piece, may I return to the library? I have a paper due at midnight tonight and I literally only have one paragraph finished.”

Another strike against her back felt hard enough to draw blood. The Joker was not in a joking mood tonight.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, How rude of you to want to leave when you just arrived! You batbrats are all the same, always in a rush. That’s why Jason is my favorite little bird. He always makes time for me,” his dreamy sigh faded into a scowl and in one quick movement, he was face to face with Marinette, his hand forcing her to stare into his eyes, “At least he used to. With you in town, he never seeks me out anymore!”

Releasing her cheeks, he turned away in a mock sob, using the edge of his purple tie to wipe away his tears.

“Maybe it’s because you two have an abusive relationship. I mean who wants to seek out someone that beats the shit out of them all the time.”

Joker stroked his chin thoughtfully as if her words carried some weight to them.

“Perhaps you’re right, maybe my last beating didn’t express enough love and admiration. How do you beat him to show him you love him?”

With a snap of his fingers, one of his men rushed forward to place a stool in front of him. Plopping down, he crossed his legs, motioning for her to speak.

“Uhm, well, I don’t beat him. Being my brother and all, we fight on the occasion, but if I want him to know I love him, I bake his favorite sweets or surprise him with a visit to his work.”

“Ah ha! That’s what I have to do! I got too reliant on my good old friend seeking me out, but maybe every once in a while I should seek him out!”

“Wait, that’s not really-” She couldn't finish her sentence as a crackle of electricity echoed through the warehouse. Her breathing was labored as she slowly began to come to terms with her situation.

“You know little batbug, you are slowly becoming a second favorite of mine. Of course, none of you could ever replace Batsy himself, but I would be lying to myself if I wasn’t fond of you and my Jason.”

If this was how he treated his favorites, Marinette was terrified to think of what Tim or Damian would go through if they were in her place right now. As he continued his monologue of the highs and lows of his and Jason's great relationship, Marinette took the time to take stock of her options.

There were ten men in total, more than likely at least five more outside posting guard. Fifteen wouldn’t be too hard, but there was one wildcard she couldn’t account for. Joker hardly ever accepted a fight that he wouldn’t believe to be fun and if she was honest, she couldn’t figure if he would jump in or not.

Tikki had already been working at the ropes holding her wrists, it was mere moments before they snapped, the only thing that stood in her way was that clown.

“-anywho, I suppose it’s time to go pay Jason a visit. Boys, leave this one alive. I like her.”

There was a slight groan of annoyance that sprinkled throughout the room.

Now was her time. The minute Joker stepped foot outside of the warehouse, she would be able to escape with almost no effort. As the doors slid open, Marinette nodded to Tikki to chew through the last rope.

“Where is she?” A frantic voice spilled through the front door causing Marinette’s eyes to snap into focus.

Several guns were trained on Jason as he gripped the front of Joker’s suit, his fist curled and ready to strike.

He came for her.

It wasn’t that she had any doubt, but she figured that her emergency tracker hadn’t sounded after seeing the response time from the team. As she dropped softly to her feet, Marinette slammed her elbow into the nearest man’s neck, gripping his gun as he dropped to the ground.

A few guns shifted from Jason to Marinette, seemingly unsure who was the bigger danger at this point.

“Oh Jason, I knew you cared. Marinette said I might have to seek you out, but that’s just not true is it. You always find your way back to me.”

His laughter was infuriating and Marinette could tell Jason was seeing red. If she didn’t get them out of there in the next few minutes, there was no telling if she could stop him from murdering the clown in front of him.

“You stupid clown, I could care less if you attack me, but you leave her out of this you understand?”

The Joker shook his head, a small giggle escaping his lips as he waved his men to stand down.

“Leave her out of this? Oh Jason, batbug there has become one of my new favorites. But don’t you worry, you’re still number one in my book.”

Marinette felt a shiver throughout her body at the sound of the growl that emitted from Jason.

“Jason, let's just leave. This isn’t a fight for today.”

There was no response as he and the Joker remained locked in an invisible argument, neither budging at the sound of her voice. Taking a step closer, she kept her gun trained on the clown, her eyes scanning the other men for any sudden movements. Instead of fighting her, they parted to allow her to get closer, all of them feeling equally confused as her.

Lowering her gun for a brief moment, she reached out to place a gentle hand on Jason’s shoulder.

“Jason, not today.”

She felt the tension in his body melting under her touch as he loosened his grip in the Joker’s suit. With one last glance, Jason dropped the man to the floor, turning to pull Marinette into a tight hug. 

“Your stupid tracker needs an update. Tim could only place it near this area and it took me entirely too long to get here.”

Marinette winced under his tight grip, the realization of her wounds finally hitting her. Pulling back, she nodded to Jason as they both moved to walk out the door.

The sound of several guns switching off safeties echoed, causing them both to stop in their tracks.

“Joker, let us go.”

Her eyes met his as he lifted himself from the floor, brushing off the imaginary dust he had acquired. There was a certain glint in those eyes that screamed danger to her. They both shared a mutual understanding that he knew far too much and that he could attack whenever he wanted. This advantage seemed to please him as he nodded, motioning for his men to stand down once more.

“Batbug is right, this would be no fun if the two of you were dead. So many interesting possibilities for the future, it’s so exhilarating.”

The sound of his laughter stayed with her even after they were blocks away from the warehouse.

“Batman was right behind me, I’m sure he’ll get there before they have time to clear out.”

Marinette nodded absentmindedly as Jason pulled them into the nearest ally. As gently as possible, he lifted the back of her shirt to exam the wounds. Letting out a low whistle, he began to patch them one by one, the stinging of antiseptic cutting just as deeply as the wounds had.

“Mari, what were you doing before that clown kidnapped you? It doesn’t look you struggled much, there only seems to be torture wounds.”

Marinette’s eyes widened as she suddenly remembered.

“Jason, we have to get back to the library! My paper is due at midnight! That idiot snapped me while I was writing, I only have one paragraph done and I don’t even know if it saved.”

Jason struggled to bite back the laughter that was fighting to escape.

“You know Marinette, this is what you get for waiting to the last minute. Don’t you know by now that there is a fair chance of getting kidnapped while you’re trying to do school work?”

Marinette reached backward swinging blindly as Jason’s laughter finally bellowed through. As he pulled her shirt back down into position, Marinette turned to give him one last hug before she took off into the night.

Jason and Tikki shared a look. Together, they took off after her, giggling and calling after her as they raced through Gotham’s streets. All in all, it really was just another average night in Gotham City.

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[persephonessunflowers]

A little batjokes fic I have been working on. It’s also on ao3 but I’m kind of at a loss of which direction to go with it at this point. So I figured I’d post it here for now until I figure it out .

I fell in love with an idea. A picture I had created that was never meant to be. There was never any possibility that we could be happy together. That a life where only the two of us existed could be possible. Not when every part of me craved the adrenaline from a night of violence and waking up to new scars that defined who I was. And you with your savior complex, thinking the whole world would fall if you went away. Needing the praise even in anonymity. Hiding the scars that defined you with a well-dressed suit. It could never be. But I would be a liar if I said every part of me didn’t ache for the possibility of existing.

Joker rolled over. His thoughts had once again turned the bat. He would never admit that he spent countless hours losing sleep considering the possibility of a normal life. One where his past had not led him to this place. One where he could casually run into a beautiful man while doing something completely mundane. Maybe walking down, the street, perhaps in a coffee shot, or even stealing passing glances on the subway. Finally, one would make a move. They would go on dates, share laughs, and slowly fall in love. He grabbed a pillow lying next to him a slammed it into his face, an attempt to eradicate these thoughts. The joker wasn’t a romantic. He was tyrannical, a leader, the bringer of chaos.At least in his mind this was how he chose to believe he was perceived. Sure, some would say he was insane, psychopathic, a cold-blooded killer, and well truthfully, he was these things. So, these romantic urges that kept coming over him where very detrimental to the brand that he had built around himself. For God’s sake if a hot intelligent blonde woman in a skintight suit who was utterly devoted to him never did it for him then why the hell was he fantasizing about a grown man in a cape. Joker groaned again because it wasn’t just any man in a cape, it was Bruce fucking Wayne. Leave it to him to fall for an eccentric billionaire with a savior complex and moral compass to match.

If you had told Joker a few months ago, the man he was caught in this never ending dance of justice with was Bruce Wayne he probably would have laughed in your face and depending on his mood that day, you might have also not survived the interaction. He did have a flare for being dramatic and something about senseless murder just made him positively giddy. Rumors have always spread in Gotham City’s underground. And why would they not, everyone wanted to know who was truly under the mask that continuously foiled their plans. Most wanted to know so that they could end him for good. Or at the least target those closest to him in order to prove a point. Joker had never particularly cared about the identity of his sworn enemy. He much preferred the tango the two performed without any outside views of who the other was. Both pushing each other to the right to the edge, waiting for the other to overstep their boundaries and go too far. Names could ruin that. There was something about the not knowing that added to the thrill of it all. That made the excitement of both men rise. Joker couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of it. But now he had name to the face behind the mask.

It had started as a relatively normal day, when Joker received word that a Mr. Bruce Wayne had been seen sneaking around one of Joker’s new warehouses. Of course, this had piqued his interest. Why was the elusive billionaire in such a bad area of Gotham, it’s almost like he’s asking to be robbed. It’s not as if he could blend in, everyone knew his face. And secondly the only ones in the know about this newest warehouse were Joker, his most trusted henchman R, Harley, and a certain bat who had found out and stopped by for a visit a week ago. Of course he had found nothing, and the camera only caught him for a moment before he flung one of those damned batarangs at it and every other one he found. Joker sighed, batbrain probably never even considered the expense Joker would have to incur to replace those. The warehouse was nothing, more of a safety net if he ever needed the space. Or more than likely it would be converted to a place for those who worked for him to stay. God knows the filthy animals couldn’t keep a living space to save their lives. And providing living arrangements, food, drugs, and booze was generally the best way he had found to keep street thugs loyal to you. He may be insane, but he wasn’t stupid. And of course, he knew word about his new endeavor would draw the bat in. If there was one thing batsy couldn’t resist it was a hot tip about a new diabolical plan the Joker was forming. And so, what if Joker had his henchman anonymously tip off Jim Gordon knowing he would immediately find a way to alert the bat. Sometimes you have to force fate to get what you desire. And that night what he desired was not a fight but just to watch batman in action.

From his hiding spot the Joker could see everything his bats did. He watched him canvas the area and could hear the frustrated huffs he let out every time he again came up with nothing. He watched as bats paced back and forth clearly trying to figure out what angle was being played. Listened as he radioed Gordon filling him in on the nothingness the warehouse held. They went back and forth wonder what plan was being devised for this place. God Joker could watch him forever. Studying his lips, the way his jaw clenched when he was unhappy. He longed to see his face, to touch him. On the other hand, that would ruin their game and Joker really really liked games. It was fascinating to him that even though the bat had found nothing he stayed there pacing. Glancing at the door every few moments. Joker almost wondered if the bat was waiting for him to show up. Did their little fights give the bat the same thrill Joker got? The way both of their adrenaline rose, their hearts beating fast, and their breathing getting deeper. The pain was so intoxicating and led to the ultimate pleasure. Nothing else could top it. But not tonight. Tonight, Joker wanted him to squirm. And squirm he did. In semi defeat, the bat sat down on a box in the corner. Hidden in the shadows waiting. He waited the entirety of the night, unaware that the Joker was sitting merely feet away. It wasn’t until light started to seep in that the bat finally sauntered away. It was curious. Surely there was other crime going on in Gotham. Honestly when wasn’t there crime in Gotham, the city was a cesspool of it. He’d even heard tell of a heist the Penguin was planning that night. And surely Bats had been made aware of that. And yet he never left the warehouse.

Snapping back to the present Joker frowned at the tingly feeling the memory had given him. Now onto the pressing issue of why Bruce Wayne was at his warehouse and how he knew it was there. He gathered himself, choosing his most basic suit. It was navy blue and had none of the flare that he had come to appreciate. He also forewent applying his face makeup to appear more normal. After a moments thought he also chose to grab his sunglasses, gloves, and a hat in an attempt to slightly disguise himself. He doubted this would do much as he slid a hand across the white skin of his face. It was an aspect of himself that he struggled to hide. It was why he preferred the night over day. In the darkness he could appear normal, avoiding the judgmental eyes that the daylight cast. He had learned throughout the years of course. Purchased wigs and learned how to properly put them on so they looked real, he had found contacts that closely matched the color his eyes had once been. But he was unable to find anything for the skin. He had tried foundations but none of them worked. He often questioned if it was due to the acid, this led to a spiral of remembering the events that caused him to fall. He never spent to long considering it otherwise his mind began to drift to a dark place. A place that scared even him, one where he could feel his mental state slipping. Slowly succumbing fully to the madness. Joker shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. After a final glance in the mirror, he slipped out of his apartment to find an available car. He hoped Wayne would still be there, thankfully it was only about a 10-minute drive from his place. He had made this decision deliberately hoping that no one would consider he lived close to his investments and would rather stay far away from them to avoid suspicion. Once in the garage, he chose a simple black car and started the drive, preparing for a confrontation with the treasure of Gotham, Bruce Wayne. As Joker pulled into the warehouse drive, he could see a small blue car parked not far off in the distance. It was pulled off to the side of the road just slightly, he assumed the placement was meant to make it look like the car had broken down there but due to the current situation it seemed like it may be Mr. Wayne’s. He pondered whether he should go search the car before heading to the warehouse, ultimately deciding against it in case Wayne decided to stop whatever he was doing and head back. Joker put his car in park and turned off the engine. He felt it best not to alert the man breaking into his building. As he walked up the gravel, almost by divine intervention a certain someone was crawling out of one of the first story windows.

“Uhm, excuse me sir. I don’t usually like finding unknown men crawling out of my buildings.” it seemed best not to start off too accusatory in case there was a valid reason a billionaire was snooping around his property.

“Oh, uhm, of course I am so sorry about this.” He stopped and cleared out his throat. “I am Bruce Wayne, I uh wasn’t aware that someone had purchased this property. I had been informed it was for sale and wanted to check it out to see if it would be a good space for some new developments at Wayne Industry.”

Wayne held out his hand and Joker realized he intended for them to shake hands. How disgustingly formal. He slowly reached out a gloved hand to shake, watching as the man’s hand nearly covered his own. The strong grasp jolted through Joker and he quickly pulled away wiping the glove on his pants as if this would establish some kind of unspoken boundary between the two. Joker kept his gaze on the man, there was something so familiar about him. Maybe he was making it up it was completely feasible that he had just seen an interview the man was in. His excuse was reasonable as well. The property had only been off the market 2 weeks at most, but why bother sneaking into it and distancing your vehicle from the building?

“Oh, I see. I’m Jack. Jack…Sawyer. Do you always examine potential investments by climbing through the windows?”

The man’s face reddened. “The uh, the door was jammed and when I was assessing the outside of the building, I noticed one of the windows was ajar and figured it wouldn’t hurt to use that as an entry.”

“Hmm understandable. Well, I would be happy to give you a tour of the building, but I am afraid that it has already been purchased by me, so it would be no use to your company endeavors.”

Clearly embarrassed by having been caught the man stood there fidgeting. His jaw clenching and unclenching. His eyes darting to the gate. He wasn’t scared, no Joker knew fear, and this was not it. Nervous perhaps? Anxious? Something was off but Joker couldn’t quite place it. His voice, his mouth something about it called to Joker.

There was a long uncomfortable pause before Wayne looked at Joker and said, “Yeah, I…I would love a tour. Do you have any plans for the building?”

Joker hadn’t expected this. It was more of pleasant offering rather than one he actually wanted to do. But, maybe during the tour he could pinpoint what it was about this man exactly.

“I’m not really much of a planner Mr. Wayne. To be honest the price of the building was such a steal I couldn’t pass it up. I’m sure you understand that you don’t become a billionaire by spending recklessly now do you? I am considering using it as a storage facility. I own a bar you see and the storage capacity there is really lacking so I figured why not buy a cheap warehouse.”

The man seemed genuinely taken aback by this statement. His jaw clenching again. His eyes searching Jokers face as if he was trying to pull something out of him. Joker stared back, his eyes never leaving Wayne’s. It was as if they were locked in a battle only Joker wasn’t sure what exactly they were battling for. Surely Bruce Wayne wasn’t so pressed for a warehouse building that he was going to come for some lowly bar owner. And that was when it clicked. Jokers’ eyes broke the stare and fell to the man’s clenched jaw. He knew that clench. He knew that mouth. As if he hadn’t fantasized about those lips on him for months now. Bruce fucking Wayne was Batman, unbelievable. In his surprise he let out a not-so-subtle gasp.

“Are…are you okay Mr. Sawyer?”

“I uh oh yes of course, sometimes my mind escapes me, I suffered an accident sometime ago and the effects seem to pop up at the most inopportune times.”

Wayne dropped his gaze and shifted uncomfortably. “You said you owned a bar. What’s the name of it maybe I’ve visited there?”

“Oh, I highly doubt that Mr. Wayne. It doesn’t usually bring in” he paused looking the man up and down “your type, but….If you’re ever feeling frisky, it’s called The White Knight.”

Joker stopped to look at the man after saying this. He knew damn well that Batman had no idea of the existence of this place. He had undergone every security measure to ensure so. But he knew that this would elicit a response from the bats. How could it not? The Joker owning a secret bar that batsy hadn’t been informed about, on top of the bar being a mockery of his title. It would make Batman seethe.

Wayne’s eyes darkened and his nostrils flared, it was slight, but it was enough for Joker to confirm what he already knew.

“Thank you for the offer to show me the building Mr. Sawyer, but I’m sorry I just realized I have to go.” he glanced quickly at his watch, “I forget I had a meeting to attend. This has truly been an enlightening afternoon.”

“I agree Mr. Wayne, it certainly has been. Are you sure you don’t want a quick tour?”

“No, uh thank you but no. I truly have to go.” And with that Joker watched the man saunter down the driveway. He pulled off his glasses and stared after the man. This newfound information complicated things but it also gave Joker leverage and God knows Joker liked having leverage.

What to do with this leverage? He could let it slip…no…no he didn’t like that. Freely handing out this precious information to those lowly Neanderthals. No, they would go after him, and while Batman would never stand down, they would probably kill him. The bat would die at the feet of those he spent so long pursuing. He grimaced picturing the scene. He couldn’t let them kill Batman. Batman was his. Joker felt that nagging voice in his head again, the one he constantly tried to keep at bay with Scarecrow’s medication.

if anyone is going to kill the bat it’s going to be you right?? You could never let anyone take him from you. He’s yours, yours yours. HAHAHAHAHA.

He took his hands, slamming them to his ears. “Shut up, shut up, shut up I do not want to kill him.”

Of course not, maybe just torture him a little bit until you can’t stop, poor Joker always unable to prevent yourself from going to far.. Drag the knife across his throat, cutting a tad too deep. Tie him up. Let him bleed out while watching you perform. That’s what you want isn’t it? For the bat to bleed, his pretty red blood spilling across the floor. And as he falls to the ground ceasing to exist so does his deluded version of Gotham. You, standing strong watching the city succumb to crime and destruction. Knowing they will not mourn him. Gotham doesn’t care. Gotham feeds on destruction, chaos, and the ruin of its citizens. If you’re born here you don’t stand a chance. There is no good in Gotham, so you must kill the only thing that believes it exist. Kill the bats, Kill the bats, Kill the bats.

He felt his mouth curving up into a terrifying smile as a fit of giggles erupted from his mouth HAHAHAHAHA.

His hands fell from his ears to clasp over his mouth, an attempt to silence, well really everything. After a few minutes, the laughter subsided, and the thoughts quieted. He sank to ground resting his chin on the top of his knees. His faced ached from the experience as it usually did, tears began to well in his eyes, a product of self-hatred, anger, and sadness.

He didn’t want the bat to die. Or…or maybe he did. Things would be far less complicated if a certain dark knight wasn’t involved. Unfortunately, a part of him wanted to be held by the knight. His slight framed wrapped in the strong arms of his enemy. Letting his body go limp as he breathed in the comforting smell. Hands running through his hair. Soft whispers trying to convince him that the world isn’t all bad. But it is isn’t it? There’s no good here, no God exists because if he did, he would surely drown this city. This hell on Earth, putrid and reeking of sin. Never allowing happiness to live within its borders. Joker pulled himself upright and violently wiped away the tears that had covered his face. He was the goddam Joker not some pathetic schoolboy with the luxury of pathetically crushing on the most popular boy in the grade. Brushing off his pants from sitting on the ground he began to stroll back to his car. Tonight, he would choose chaos. Perhaps a robbery he hadn’t performed one of those in a long while. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Harley to get the men prepped and to choose a nice jewelry store for their night out. Yes, a robbery sounded splendid. Maybe tomorrow he would figure out what to do with Mr. Wayne. Or maybe he would do nothing at all, just keep the information in his pocket. After all what was the point in ruining their game?

"Mr. J, if you don't mind me saying, you're uh heart didn't seem to be all into the score last night..." Harley's eyes didn't quite meet us. No doubt they were fearing the repercussion these words would bring. She would never say it but she liked the anticipation, the not knowing what was coming. Perhaps she even liked the pain when it came. But, perceptive as ever she was correct.

Sighing Joker looked over at her. "Harley I've told you time and time again please do not call me that. Just Jack is fine. Please just Jack. I was merely distracted last night. There's some financials issues with the club that I need to work out."

She walked over to him, placing one hand on his. The other at her side twitching to cup his face, knowing he would withdraw if she did. "I can't call you Jack anymore, it's too...personal." Then she jumped back and just like that her mood changed and smile erupted on her face "Besides Mr. J is so much more fun to say, wouldn't you agree? It gives you authority and I love a man who has power." The deviousness written across her face.

"Damn it Harley. Then call me Mr. Napier if you insist on acting this way about it. Also cut the showbiz act. It makes you seem desperate and pathetic." He knew the words would sting her. He wanted it too. He hated her for bringing out the worst in him. But that nagging voice loved her for it. Together the two could be unstoppable, maniacal. It's why he had broke it off. She was smart, brilliant even. She knew what his inside voice wanted and she knew how to provoke it out of him because in that world at least they are together. Part of him wanted to snap her neck and that be the end of it. And yet another part knew he could never do that because he cared for her in the way only two people with so much history and tragedy could. His gaze fell to her stomach, wondering what could have been. "Leave me alone Ms. Quinzel, your presence is pissing me off."

Tears gathered in her eyes as she turned to leave the room, slamming the door for effect.

He winced at the sound. Going after her would just provoke her wrath and he didn't have the energy to deal with that. It's best to give it a few days. He shouldn't have lashed out at her. He was frustrated. The bat had failed to show up last night, which meant the thrill he normally got from nights like that was nonexistent.

There was no point feeling sorry for himself. It never led to any place good. He stood up grabbed his jacket and headed for he bar. At the very least he could use this energy to get something done and for the sake of his workers hope that none of them were stupid enough to tantalize him tonight. His bloodlust was encompassing him and anything could set him off at this point.

The walk from his apartment to the bar wasn't a far one but the cold air made it seem like miles. Joker shivered trying to shake the chill that encompassed him. Gotham was always cold. It didn't matter what time of year it was. Sure the air warmed but you could still feel the breeze nipping at you, waiting to drop. He glanced at the sky, dusk was settling. It didn't matter, the sun never quite shown here in Gotham either. It was gray, just consistently gray. But it never seemed to bother any one else, or at least not that he had noticed. It's where his flare for colors came from, he wanted to break away from the gray.

He was merely feet away from the opening of the bar, the music creeped onto the otherwise silent street. He smirked, the song playing was one of his favorites. He leaned against the brick wall feeling the vibrations of the loud speak reverberate through calming him. He closed his eyes and just listened. Sighing as the song ended he felt a little better. Perhaps he would just go to his upstairs room and let the music take him away for the night. He would never admit the sway the sounds had over him. Finding comfort in the beats a rock song would produce.

A rustling sound came from the doorway, making him straighten quickly, keeping his face a blank canvas. He could already hear the gossip from his men if one of them found him out here basking in the sound of the music. Especially, with how he talked about it in front of them. Calling it a pointless waste. No. His entire personality was to remain hidden. To them he was a maniac, always angry, and mere moments away from snapping. Everything was jokes and crime. Not an entirely wrong synopsis but he was never to be seen as human, because that meant weakness and he would never again be seen as weak.

Fortunately, this was just a drunk patron stumbling his way out. In his drunken state the man couldn't particularly walk straight and managed to trip over his feet, his face colliding with the Joker shoulders. Finally a reason to have some fun. In less than a second Joker twisted away and wrapped his hand around the patrons throat, with full force he pushed him into the wall. The mans head collided with the brick, a sickening thud could be heard. Joker smirked, even drunk he could feel the mans fear radiating off of him. His adrenaline keeping him alert. His eyes screaming for help in ways his mouth could not. It was heaven. Joker leaned into the man, "Didn't your mother ever teach you that you should watch where you're walking?" He could feel his smile widening

"I.....I......uh.....I....I'm sorry sir." He gasped between words. Jokers fingers were wrapped so tightly around his neck it was a miracle he was able to get any words out all. With a glance down, Joker could see that the man had wet himself. Well this is no fun, the poor sap isn't even going to fight back. His smiled faltered where's the fun in that?

Just kill him, he isn’t worth anything. No one would miss him. Snap his neck, feel his bones crush beneath your strength. Come on you know you want to. You want to feel that rush. See the light as it drains from his eyes. Pleading until the very last second.

Joke could feel his smile widening again. His fingers twitched as he started to laugh. The man's eyes grew large with realization. He knew that laugh. All of Gotham knew that laugh. His body started to shake as tears streamed down his face.

See how pathetic he is. He doesn't deserve to live. You know you want the high this will give you.

And with that he gave in. His fingers tightened and with a final gurgle the mans will gave and his body slumped. The Joker let go and gasped at the feeling it gave him. He was positively giddy. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad day after all. He pulled out his phone and called one of his men to come dispose of the body. He didn't need anyone poking around his bar. A worker came out the side door and Joker motioned him over.

The worker glanced briefly at the body "Geez boss what'd he do to you?"

With a sneer Joker spat back "Not that it's any of your business but he bumped into me. Now get rid of the scum."

Recognizing his boss's mood the man quickly grabbed the body and retreated.

Joker turned away walking into the bar. He was ready to have some fun.

[writingblock101]

Sacrifices (Batfam x Batsis!Reader)

Warnings: Violence, gore

Word Count: 4,200 

Artwork by poorbird

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish​

It would’ve made sense for you to become Robin, you suppose. By the time you arrived at Wayne Manor, Jason still lived there. While at the time Jason was Robin, it would’ve been possible for him to adopt a new persona, but you didn’t want to be Robin. Instead, you became The Titan. 

As for the series of unfortunate events that landed you on Bruce Wayne’s doorstep, you prefer to not think about it. Instead, you found a new family with two older brothers, a workaholic dad and a tired butler. Together you were dysfunctional and strange, but you loved each other so it worked. 

Granted, being a Wayne has never been easy. At first, Jason was very standoffish, but between yours and Dick’s pestering, he eventually warmed up to you. The three of you become inseparable and God helped whatever idiot dared to try to hurt any of you. 

Things were good... until they weren’t. Jason’s death weighed heavily on everyone, especially Bruce. You didn’t see Dick for months, leaving you trapped in your own mind. 

You hated living in that giant mansion alone with Bruce, but things got better when Tim showed up on the doorstep. You missed your older brothers, so you were relieved to finally not be alone, and Tim allowed you to learn how to step into the older sibling role. 

Then things got complicated with Jason’s return. 

Eventually, everything settled and broken bridges were mended, but life threw another curveball when Bruce showed up with Damian. To say he was a handful is an understatement, but like Jason, you and Tim pestered your way through his tough exterior and became the older siblings to Damian that Dick and Jason are for you and Tim. 

Though Damian is the only Wayne child who still lived in the Manor, the four of you were more than happy to temporarily resume your residency while Bruce was off-world with the Justice League and patrol Gotham together for a week. Bruce claimed Damian needed social interaction beyond himself, Alfred, and Jon, but the four of you knew Bruce and Alfred missed having a full house and Damian missed his older siblings. 

The week was going great, you missed patrolling with your brothers. When things got slow, you goofed off with them, playing an impressive game of tag, making snack runs, and catching up on various Gotham rooftops. But in an instant, when you heard a cry for help, it was all business where you worked fluidly as a team. You haven’t had this much fun patrolling since you moved out of the Manor. During the day, you guys wreaked havoc in Gotham. Dare you say it, but you missed Gotham (not really, you just missed your brothers). 

Then Bane showed up. 

You five were never supposed to face off against him until Bruce got back, but things are never that simple in Gotham. 

Bane throws you against the wall, cracks spiderwebbing underneath you then you fall forward, hitting the ground. Before you can even stop to groan in pain, you’re on your feet, narrowly dodging another hit. Nightwing kicks off the wall and punches Bane in the head. Red Robin quickly follows with his bo staff, smacking Bane in the jaw then you knock Bane backward with a powerful kick to his chest. 

As he stumbles back, Robin cuts his calf open with a katana. Bane yells in pain and blindly swipes at Robin, but Robin rolls out of the way and slices Bane’s other leg. Red Hood shoots Bane in the knee three times then knocks his feet out from under him. 

Bane momentarily collapses but rolls to his feet with a grin, Venom pumping through the pipes on his back. You sigh, rolling your sore shoulder back. 

“Does he ever stay down?” You grumble. 

“Let’s find out,” Nightwing smirks, but beneath the cockiness, he looks exhausted.

You were all exhausted. This back and forth game with Bane had been going on for almost an hour. You finally stopped trying to count how many times Bane has thrown you into a wall and don’t even want to think how many of your ribs were broken. 

Robin is fighting through a limp and Red Robin’s arm is bleeding profusely. Nightwing’s knee has given out a few times and Red Hood’s reaction time is slower, probably due to a concussion. But all of you have too much adrenaline pumping through your veins for injuries to stop you. 

The med bay will be busy at the Manor. 

Nightwing hits Bane in the collar bone with his escrima sticks then Red Hood lands a heavy kick to the ribs. You quickly follow with a roundhouse which you give extra power with the electrocuting feature in your suit. Bane stumbles backward but Robin is ready and slices one of the Venom tubes on Bane’s back. 

“You brat!” He roars. 

Bane punches Robin then snatches one of his ankles and slams him into the ground. He winds up for another hit, but Robin is back on his feet, bearing even more weight onto his left leg. Red Robin strikes Bane in the face with drives both feet into his stomach. 

Bane stumbles again and you knock his feet out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. Red Hood takes the opportunity to pin him down and land a few heavy blows to Bane’s face. The attack is short-lived because Bane flings Red Hood across the room, but Nightwing is there in an instant, driving a hard kick to Bane’s throat. Bane catches his leg and slams him into the ground. Before he can punch Nightwing, Robin swings his katana hard enough that the blade gets buried too far into Bane’s wrist for Robin to yank it out and instead abandons the sword to dodge another punch. 

Bane yanks the katana out of his arm and swings it with enough force that it snaps Red Robin’s bo staff in half. Red Robin stumbles back from the force but regains his balance and strikes Bane with his new escrima sticks. Bane swings the katana again, grazing Red Robin’s shoulder, but he rolls out of the way before Bane could seriously injure him. 

You kick Bane’s injured knee, causing it to give out, forcing Bane down to one knee. He tries to swing at you, but you easily jump over the blade and punch Bane in the face. Robin hits Bane in the ribs with two consecutive roundhouses then punches him in the face. You drop an elbow on Bane’s shoulder and kick him in the ribs, but he catches your leg and slams you to the ground, your left shoulder cracking loudly. 

You groan in pain, but Bane yanks you upwards and punches you, sending you flying backward a few feet. Bane swings the katana at Robin, slicing deeply into his left thigh. Robin collapses, both legs giving out from underneath him while Bane stands up, holding Robin’s katana. He draws it back, ready to stab Robin--

You don’t think. Your mind barley collaborates with your body. In an instant, you’re on your feet in front of Robin but before you can disarm Bane, the katana is buried in your chest, the tip of the blade coming out of your back. 

You blink, none of the pain hitting you yet, but instead grit your teeth and charge your suit then hit Bane with the strongest bolt of electricity possible. He goes flying across the room, his Venom system fried and hits the wall, his head lolling for a moment. Before he can get up, Red Hood is on him in an instant, bashing his face. 

Your head is fuzzy and your chest is numb. When you try to stand up, you stumble and fall to one knee. Robin drags himself to his feet and seizes the front of your suit.

“Titan, what did you just do?!” He demands. 

You stare at him woozily, noticing that Robin’s leg is bleeding profusely. 

“Your leg,” You mumble, reaching out to do something. 

“Forget about my leg! What were you thinking?!” He demands, his hand shaking. 

You try to breathe, but everything tightens around the blade then the pain hits. It feels like fire slowly taking over your chest. Robin continues yelling, tears beginning to slip out from behind his mask. You whimper, letting out a choked cry of pain that sends more fire burning through your chest. Your other knee gives out, causing you to fully fall, Robin’s grip on your suit is the only thing that keeps you from hitting the floor.

“I was going to move! Why did you get in front of me?!” Robin cries. 

“Robin,” Nightwing grabs his shoulder. “I got this.” 

Robin knocks his hand away. 

“No!” His voice cracks. “Titan jumped in front of him before I could do anything! I could’ve done something…” Red Robin grabs Robin from behind and drags him away while Nightwing takes his place, holding you up. 

“Get your hands off me, Red!” Robin screams. 

“Easy, Robin,” Red Robin mutters to him. “Let Nightwing help her.” 

“This shouldn’t be happening, she shouldn’t be hurt!” He tries to elbow his way out of Red Robin’s grip, but Red Robin holds tight. 

You grab Nightwing’s shoulders, unable to hold yourself up. He holds your arms steady, keeping you upright. 

“Geeze, T,” He mumbles to you, looking down at the sword. “What did you do?” 

Tears pool under your mask, slowly beginning to drip out as your face scrunches in pain. 

“Didn’t—want—him—to—hurt—Robin,” You whimper, your nails digging into his shoulder. 

“Keep breathing, we’re going to get you help,” He promises. “Eyes open, okay? Don’t close them.” 

You force your eyes open, digging your nails Nightwing’s shoulder as another wave of pain hits you. 

“Hood,” Nightwing calmly calls over his shoulder. “Do you still have those military field dressings?” 

Red Hood hustles over, leaving Bane tied up and unconscious and pulls two pads out of his jacket. He kneels next to Nightwing, pushing your hair back out of your face. 

“Geeze, kid,” Red Hood shakes his head. “You really go all out, don’t you?” 

You try to chuckle, but your chest screams in pain, making you wince instead. The wince tightened your chest even more, your nails digging into Nightwing’s shoulder again as you let out a sob. Of course, your chest tightens again, creating even more pain, more tears streaming down your face. Red Hood leans over, wiping his thumb under your eyes. 

“Keep breathing, T.”

“It—hurts—so—fuc—king—bad,” You whimper, more tears running down your face.

“I know it hurts, but breathe with me,” He places your hand against his armored chest and takes a deep breath so you can feel his chest move then slowly breathes out.

You try your best to breathe with him and partially succeed, but Red Hood’s breathing is more even than yours.

“Keep going,” He encourages. “Wing, what’s the plan?” 

“You’re going to pull the sword out and I’m putting the military dressings on.” 

Despite the helmet, Nightwing can feel the way Red Hood raises his eyebrows by his silence. 

“Shouldn’t we leave it in?” 

“Normally, yes. But that’s when EMTs can transport you safely which isn’t the case for us,” Nightwing explains quickly then shifts so Red Hood is holding you up and takes the dressings from him. 

“You ready, Wing?” He asks. 

Nightwing shifts behind you, preparing the dressings then nods. 

“Alright, T, this is going to hurt, but I need you to stay awake, okay?” You nod at Red Hood then he grabs the hilt of the sword and slowly pulls it out. 

Right as the tip travels back into your body, Nightwing presses the pad on your back, making sure it’s fully adhered. You gasp in pain, gritting your teeth and digging your nails into Red Hood’s shoulder. Red Hood winces at the sound of you whimpering as he pulls the sword free. Nightwing quickly presses the pad to the wound on the front of your chest then you collapse onto Red Hood, sobbing in pain. He holds you close, careful of your chest and strokes your hair. 

“Hang in there, T. Just a little longer,” He murmurs to you then passes you off to Nightwing who carefully lifts you off the ground.

You whimper, the movement pulling at your chest. Your vision gets hazy. It’s becoming harder to keep your eyes open. Nightwing frowns, looking down at the bandages. 

“Titan. Stay awake. We need to move, I can already see blood,” He looks at Red Robin, who is finishing the wrappings on Robin’s leg. “Call Agent A. Get Dr. Leslie to the Cave, now.” 

. . . 

“Dammit, Damian!” Tim smacks Damian’s arm. “Hold still!” 

“I can do it myself!” He hisses, trying to snatch the needle from Tim. 

“You’re actively bleeding out. Just let me finish!” 

“You don’t know what you’re doing!” 

“I’ve been stitching myself up longer than you’ve been alive!” 

“After seeing the way you fight? That doesn’t surprise me, Drake. It’s shocking that you haven’t died yet!”  

“You’re about to be bleeding from somewhere else except I won’t miss your femoral artery!” 

“Tim! Damian! Enough!” Dick snaps. “Damian, let Tim stitch you up.” 

Damian glares at Dick, but crosses his arms and allows Tim to finish. Dick shakes his head with a sigh and finishes wrapping his knee. You’ve been in surgery for half an hour so to say everyone is on edge is an understatement, but Damian isn’t usually this difficult about receiving medical attention. 

“Damian!” Tim yells, picking the needle up from the ground. “What the hell?!” 

“You stabbed me!” He protests. 

“You’re getting stitches! It’s not going to tickle!” 

“Damian,” Dick snaps. “I understand that you’re worried, but the best thing you can do right now is take care of yourself.” 

“Tt, you don’t get it,” Damian huffs, crossing his arms. 

“What do you mean we don’t get it?” Jason growls. 

“You weren’t there when it happened!” He exclaims. “You weren’t right there!” 

“We all saw it happen, kid,” Jason snaps. “I had to watch her cry while I pulled the fucking sword out of her!” 

“No, you don’t get it!” Damian yells. “It was my sword!” 

“What are you talking about?” Tim frowns. 

“It was my sword that hurt her!” His shoulders slump. “Only my sword can pierce her body armor and if I hadn’t let Bane have it, she wouldn’t be dying right now!” 

Tim’s face softens. 

“Damian, you didn’t hand it to him—” 

“I may as well have!” 

“You stabbed him with it!” 

“It doesn’t matter! It was stupid!” 

“Dames,” Dick frowns. “You didn’t—” 

“No. She jumped in front of me because I was being reckless,” Damian cuts him off. “It was my fault.” 

“She made that decision,” Tim tells him. “Y/N knew what was going to happen. That’s not on you, Damian.” 

“But I put her in the position that forced her to make that decision.” 

“One of your legs is broken and the other one needed twenty stitches! You didn’t go into this fight anticipating that!” Tim argues. 

Damian looks up, refusing to meet his brothers’ eyes as his eyes well up and a lump forms in his throat. Dick frowns, laying a hand on his shoulder. 

“None of us blame you, Damian,” He reassures him. “Don’t blame yourself.” 

Damian shoves Dick’s hand off him and looks down, hastily wiping away stray tears. He slouches in on himself, making himself look even smaller. 

“I don’t want to be responsible for anything happening to her,” He admits to the floor. 

“You’re not,” Jason says. “Y/N knows the risk of putting on that mask. We all do. The second we step out of this Cave, we all know there’s a possibility of not coming back.” 

“But we did come back,” Tim adds. “All of us did and Dr. Thompkins is helping her right now.” 

“It’s going to take a lot more than a sword to the chest to take Y/N down. And if it was one of our asses on the line, she’d do it again in a heartbeat. We all would. It’s not your fault, kid. It’s part of the job.” 

Damian doesn’t look convinced, but he stays quiet while Tim finishes stitching him. Dick manages to force all his brothers to shower and eat a sandwich (he almost didn’t eat one himself, but a pointed look from Alfred changed that), but trying to make them sleep in a pipe dream. 

Instead, they opt to wait outside the med bay for Dr. Leslie to finish. Jason paces, Dick bounces his good leg, Tim checks the progress of the police reports while they process Bane (he wanted to do research about chest wounds, but Dick wouldn’t let him, especially within eyesight of Damian), and Damian mindlessly sharpened a sword he never uses. 

Two hours pass then Dr. Leslie finally walks out of the med bay, exhausted and blood splattered. All four boys’ attention snaps to her instantly. 

“She’s stable,” Dr. Leslie tells them. “And extremely lucky. She managed to get stabbed right below her heart but above her liver so it missed any major organs and her spine. It did nick her vena cava so there’s some internal bleeding. She’s got a lot of broken ribs, a broken xiphoid process,  dislocated shoulder, some bruising and some lacerations, but she’ll be okay.” 

The boys sag with relief. 

“Can we see her?” Dick asks. 

Dr. Leslie nods. 

“She’s asleep and probably won’t wake up until tomorrow at the absolute earliest. Call me when she wakes up.” 

“Thank you, Dr. Leslie,” Dick says sincerely.

She smiles fondly and ruffles his hair. 

“Anything for this family.”

Alfred escorts Dr. Leslie to her car while the boys go into your med bay room. Jason picks up Damian who immediately protests. 

“Tt! I am not a child!” 

Jason rolls his eyes. 

“Your legs aren’t taking you anywhere fast. Get over it, short stack.” 

He crosses his arms but makes no move to free himself. Jason carries him into your room, followed closely by Tim and Dick and sets Damian at the foot of your bed. 

As Dr. Leslie said, you were asleep. Your left arm is secured across your chest in a sling, a gash on your forehead has been stitched up and a dark bruise is forming on your cheekbone, but your chest is steadily rising and falling and your heart rate monitor is beeping normally. 

Dick moves forward and kisses the top of your head then sits down in a nearby chair. Jason and Tim sit in other chairs near your bed while Damian sits motionless at the foot of your bed. 

“Dames?” Dick asks. “You okay?” 

He doesn’t even look at Dick. 

“She’s not going to break if you touch her,” Dick says. “Just be careful.” 

Damian glances at Dick uncertainly, but he hesitantly crawls up the bed and curls up against your right shoulder. Jason and Tim get comfortable in the surrounding recliners so Dick picks up the blanket from the foot of your bed and covers Damian who is already starting to fall asleep. Tim and Jason are also dozing off, the exhaustion from the night finally sinking in now that they know you’re okay. 

Alfred quietly clears his throat from the doorway. 

“How is she?” He asks. 

Dick glances back at you and smiles. 

“She’s going to be okay.” 

Alfred smiles, looking relieved then looks at Dick. 

“And how are you, Master Dick?” 

Dick shrugs, looking down at the floor for a moment. 

“Noting we haven’t seen before.” 

Alfred knows Dick well and patiently waits for him to say more. Most of the time, Dick forgets Alfred was in the military and that he understands the weight behind close calls. Dick gestures for Alfred to step out of the room in order to not disturb his brothers’ much-needed sleep. 

“We shouldn’t have gone after Bane,” Dick admits once the door shuts behind him. “I know better. I shouldn’t have let them talk me into it.” 

Alfred nods along slowly. 

“Bane has always been someone Master Bruce struggles to defeat. You five did it without him. You should be proud of yourselves.” 

“But at what cost?” Dick asks. 

“Miss. Y/N is going to be okay and you can’t change what happened, so be proud of what you accomplished.”

Dick’s shoulders sag as he feels a lump form in his throat. 

“It happened in slow motion,” He pauses. “One minute, she’s on the floor, the next thing I know, she’s standing in front of Damian with a sword through her chest...I thought she was going to bleed out in my arms.” 

“You did everything correctly. Your fast thinking is the reason your sister is here and recovering,” Alfred reassures him. 

Dick nods, not looking at Alfred. She almost died because of me. She almost died because of my decision. I knew we shouldn’t have gone after Bane but I thought we could handle it. My own arrogance almost got my sister killed. He feels his throat burn.

Alfred lays a hand on Dick’s shoulder, who looks over at him with tear-filled eyes. 

“I almost lost my sister,” He whispers with a thick voice. 

Alfred pulls Dick into a hug, Dick burying his face into Alfred’s shoulder as tears silently rolled down his face. Similar to Bruce who struggles to express “negative emotions” and often opted to repress or distract himself, Dick pushes his emotions down until he’s alone or with someone he feels safe with before allowing the emotions out. 

Alfred rubs Dick’s back while Dick silently cries until Dick finally pulls back and wipes his face. 

“I’m okay,” He promises with a sniff.

“I’m proud of you, Master Dick,” Alfred says. 

Dick smiles. 

“Thanks, Alfie,” Then he heads into the med bay to wait with his brothers for you to wake up. 

. . . 

You blearily open your eyes, hearing the sound of a heart monitor behind you. One arm is in a sling and you can feel tight wrappings across your chest, probably trying to protect your many broken ribs. Down the center of your chest is a long bandage. You look down to find one of your brothers curled up against your good arm and your other brothers sprawled across the room. 

“Damian?” You ask in a hoarse voice. 

His head pops up at the sound of your voice. 

“Y/N!” He exclaims, instantly wrapping his arms around your neck. 

You’re in shock for a moment, but quickly wrap your good arm around him, pulling him close to you, tears welling up in your eyes. He’s okay.

“You’re okay,” You mutter to him, resting your head on top of his. 

“I’m okay?!” Damian pulls back, staring at you incredulously. “What about you?! What were you thinking?! Why did you jump in front of me?!” 

You open your mouth to explain how your brain barely collaborated with your body to get between Bane and Damian. You open your mouth to explain how every fight or flight instinct, every training, and every self-preserving thought dissipated because your little brother was in danger. You open your mouth to explain how you were fully prepared to die in order for Damian to live on, but you couldn’t find the words to even begin to explain yourself. 

“I…” You say lamely. 

“Cool it with the interrogation,” Jason thankfully cuts in. “She was protecting you.” 

“She didn’t need to!” Damian snaps then returns his attention to you. “You almost got yourself killed!” 

“Dames, I’m okay,” You reassure him. 

“But what if you weren’t?” He retorts. 

“I am.” 

“But what if you weren’t?” He repeats. 

You roll your eyes.

“But what if there were wolves?” 

Damian’s face hardens. 

“I’m being serious,” He growls. 

“I am too,” You respond easily. “We can play the ‘what if’ game all day, but at the end of the day, I’m okay. We’re all okay.” 

“Do you realize how close you came to dying?” Damian demands, his eyes beginning to well. “Any higher, he would’ve hit your heart. Any lower would’ve been your stomach or your liver. Any further to one side would’ve been your aorta. Any further to the other would’ve been your spinal cord!” He stops to take a deep breath, his tears in danger of spilling over. “You came within millimeters of death or paralysis so how can you look at me and say everything is okay?” 

“Because it didn’t happen,” You reach up to touch him, to comfort him, but he dodges your hand. 

“No, what happened was you showed you’re willing to die, to leave me, all to protect me.” 

“Yeah,” You nod along. “I am. I’m willing to do it for all of you, no matter what.” 

Tim reaches out and squeezes your hand. Jason fondly ruffles your hair and Dick hugs you tightly, all their silent ways of reassuring that they would do it too. They all would and it didn’t take their silent gestures to know that. 

Damian shakes his head, his voice thick. 

“That’s not protecting me! I don’t want you to leave! I want you here alive with me! Because if you die, I—” His voice cracks. “I don’t want to live.” 

“Dames,” You feel your throat become tight and tears well up again. You reach out, cupping his cheek. He doesn’t pull away from you this time, instead, he lets that tears that had been building up finally fall. 

“Everyone leaves,” He admits. “For once, I want someone to stay for me, not leave.” 

You pull him to your chest, holding him close, a tear slipping down your face. 

“I’m not going anywhere, baby bird,” You promise, kissing the top of his head. 

Sibling angst. Lit. Anyways, got another Jason one coming y’alls way. I’ve got to edit it cause it’s a monster right now. Might be a two-parter, we’ll see. Hopefully, you enjoyed this! 

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “6 Feet”

With the scary events unfolding lately all over the world, Gotham is under lockdown also. The Joker and his girlfriend are self-quarantining at the Penthouse: needless to say entertaining him it’s no easy chore but thankfully Y/N can handle any type of situation. Probably…

Batsy

You almost drop your coffee mug when you see The Joker dangling outside the railing from the second floor of The Penthouse.

“What are you doing, J??!!!”

“Pumpkin, wanna bet I can land on the couch from here?” he flares one arm in the air.

“It’s too far off, you’ll never make it!” you mentally calculate the trajectory.

“Pfft, bullshit! If Batsy can do crap like this, so can I!”

“You don’t have the gear and training, J!”

“Gear??!! Training??!! I don’t need that; I’m not a wimp!”

“Fine, go ahead and break your neck!” Y/N gives up on the already lost cause. “How much are we betting?”

“50,000 dollars.”

“You got yourself a deal Mister Joker,” you take a sip of coffee, annoyed his desire for chaos is already surging to unspeakable heights after being trapped inside for the last 3 weeks.

The King of Gotham flexes his knees a few times for equilibrium and… here he goes: barely misses the couch, one leg gets caught on the night stand and BAM! Lands on the floor with a loud thud.

“Uugghhhh,” he groans in pain flat on his back. “Y/N… I think I fractured my limbs.”

You slowly approach and ignore his complains, pointing out the truth:

“You owe me 50,000 dollars. And if you fractured your bones, I’m going to strangle you on the spot because there is no way I’m taking care of a stubborn patient!”

The Joker makes an extra effort to react at your ultimatum:

“Excellent news, Princess. I can move my toes!”

You roll your eyes and extend one of your arms to help him up. 

“Lucky indeed, J. Are you doing this for attention?”

“Gotta keep the flame going, Pumpkin,” The Clown whizzes up a storm, trying to catch his breath following the glorious bungee jumping without a rope.

Baldy

Supposedly J is in convalescence, thus he wanted a haircut. You are both watching TV in the living room, your boyfriend sitting on a chair while you shape the locks behind him.

You start laughing at the funny movie so your hand slips: the trimmer shaves a patch of The Joker’s fabulous green hair, leaving him with a beautiful quarter sized bald spot.

Oh, shit!

He has no idea his perfect groomed style it’s butchered; better to ride this crazy train until he notices. You comb what you can from the longer strands on top of the mess you created, lying without blinking at his question:

“How did it turn out?”

“Impeccable, baby! My flair and precision regarding detail is through the roof,” you boast full of confidence.

The Heinlein Maneuver  

You’re tossing bullets at J, attempting to make them land in his mouth.

“Wow, you’re getting pretty good at this!” Y/N praises and he suddenly chokes. “Oh my God!” you panic. “Spit it out! Spit it out!”

You run behind him and start The Heinlein Maneuver which you had to learn in order to repeatedly save The Joker as a result of this being one the couple’s favorite games to play.

One, two, three… Pfuuu, there it goes: the bullet flies out of him!

The King is taking a few moments to recover whilst you impatiently want to find out what he saw this time: whenever he has these near death experiences he sees weird stuff.

“What was it this time?” you curiously inquire.

“I saw Batsy naked,” he exhales full of spite. “That asshole is totally invading my privacy!”

“Naked?” your entitled smirk makes him lose it. “Was he circumcised?”

“Excuse me??!!”

“A girl can be curious,” Y/N defends her inquiry.

“Listen here, woman! The dilemma you should be quizzing me about is if I saw his face so we can identify him!”

“Well, did you?”

“Nope.”

“Then it’s irrelevant.”

“I nearly died Princess! All I need right now is mindless fornication to aid with my rehabilitation,” the strategist in J blurs out.

“You did this to get laid?”

“Gotta keep the flame going, Pumpkin!”

6 Feet

You sneezed twice in a row and The Joker has suspiciously watched you like a hawk since.

“Do you feel sick, Pumpkin?...”

“No, it’s my allergies,” you blow your nose in a tissue and cough due to a scratchy throat.

“Are you sure?...”

“Yes, you know I get like this at spring time.”

“Hm…” J huffs. “I don’t think we should risk infection, I’m too important for this town. I say you take the south part of The Penthouse and I’ll reside in the west. Don’t come any closer, stay at least 6 feet apart just like the regulations stipulate. You can move in the room across from the master bedroom.”

“Huh?!” the baffled Y/N pretends she didn’t comprehend the words. “I have allergies, J!!! ALLERGIES!!!!”

“6 feet Pumpkin! Don’t make me repeat myself!!”  

Booty Call

You got mad and moved into the other bedroom; I guess The King wants to be safe from your allergies because that’s what you have and nothing more. Does he ever listen to reason? Nah, that would be a first.

You’re reading a book when your cell phone goes off: an invitation to chat from your man.  Across the hallway…Yup…

“Pumpkin!” his face pops on the screen. “I wanna have phone sex!!!!”

“No,” you immediately cut him off, annoyed.

“What do you mean no?! I’m about to blow a gasket over here!!!!!!!!!”

“I don’t care what happens to your gasket Mister Joker, as long as you keep it 6 feet away from me!!” and you hang up.

“How dare you, Princess?!” he shouts at your defiance. “I’ll open an account on PinchMyButt and I’ll pick another partner to tend to my overloaded system!”

“Be my guest!” you snort at his rudeness since you can actually hear him to start with.

PinchMyButt.com

One of the most popular online dating/hook up websites. Period.

The Joker uploaded his profile one hour ago and instead of being flocked with pinches like he thought, there’s no activity besides users flagging the account for “inappropriate content”. Members reckon it’s distasteful to have someone pretending to be The Clown Prince of Crime searching for a match; they have no clue it’s genuine.

Another hour passes by… zero pinches.

J is getting pissed.

30 more minutes… Ding! The app announces.

“Ha!” he triumphantly yells. “Somebody pinched my butt, Pumpkin! Oh, she said I have nice nipples and a cute bald spot! I don’t have a bald spot! Who is this?!” he investigates the blog name: iHaveAllergies69.

Rings a bell: you kept on telling him this plus his girl preferred sex position…

“Pumpkin, is that you?!” The Joker shrieks.

“Yeah!” you admit from the other bedroom. “I felt sorry for you!”

“I don’t want your pity! Unpinch me! Wait, my account just got suspended: due to a large number of objections, you’re account has been terminated. What the hell?! What am I supposed to do now, Princess?“

“Dunno, you’re the one that wanted us to be apart and it’s an excellent rule! I’m enjoying my isolation; you should do the same.”

“How can you enjoy confinement?”

“I’m having fun!”

“Without me?! Impossible! I put the fun in dysfunctional!”

Boinky

The elevator’s doors slide and Frost strolls inside carrying a box.

“Not a step further!” J mumbles taking the safely off his pistol.

He misses threatening people thus when the guys bring food and supplies to The Penthouse he tries to shoot them.

“What’s in there?” he gestures towards the cardboard container.

“Not sure, sir. Y/N ordered it online.”

“Open it!” the stern order leaves no room for hesitation.

Jonny rips the scotch tape and removes the pink, fluffy toy.

“What the heck is this?!” The Joker frowns at its shape.

Frost analyzes the plush item and it clicks.

“Boss, I think it’s a…”

“PUMPKIN!!!!” The Clown interrupts.  “Why does this atrocity resemble my crown jewelry???!!” he screams you as you show up in the living room.

A super excited squeal:

“Boinky arrived!!!” and Y/N rushes to get her package. “Toss it! Toss it!!” you wave your arms and Jonny does as required. “I need something to cuddle with since you kicked me to the curve,” you finally address him.

“And you couldn’t find a teddy bear?!”

Flame

The Joker barges in your bedroom while spraying around with disinfectant mist:

“Pumpkin, this is the biggest emergency Gotham has ever faced!!!!” he frantically takes his clothes off and you jump because you just fell asleep 5 minutes ago.

“What is it?” you snuggle with your fuzzy trinket.

“Goddamn Boinky!” your boyfriend snatches the toy and flings it out the opened window.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m about to explode, woman! That’s what!!! My online dating was abruptly halted by unforeseen factors so I have no choice,” he viciously starts yanking at you tank top. “I either risk contamination or I blow a gasket and that means kaput!”

“I have allergies,” you frown and J tugs at your shorts in a hurry, irritated.

“Exposing myself like this!” he continues bickering and Y/N can’t help it:

“Just like Batsy did?”

The King gasps, appalled you twisted his near death experience vision in such a hasty manner.

“Unacceptable!” he pulls you under him and your eerie grin prompts doubt: “Hold on! Did you purchase Boinky to intrigue me and made sure I can’t blow my gasket anywhere else with the sole purpose of having me crawl back to you?!”

Y/N innocently kisses the tip of his nose, whispering:

“Gotta keep the flame going, baby.”

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[twistedtummies2]

Gotham’s 31 Most Wanted - Number 3

Welcome back to Gotham’s 31 Most Wanted! Each day of January, I’m counting down my Top 31 Favorite Batman Villains of all time! We’re now in the Top Three! “Twinkle, twinkle, little bat…how I wonder what you’re at…?” Number 3 is…The Mad Hatter.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking: why is the Mad Hatter, of all characters, so high on the countdown? Not that the Mad Hatter doesn’t have fans, but he’s never been considered by most to be in the same ranks as Ra’s Al Ghul, Bane, or Mr. Freeze. And while his fanbase has seen some growth over the years, I don’t know TOO many people who would call him their absolute favorite Batman Villain. To be honest, it’s not hard for me to see why: the Mad Hatter has a very small number of truly great stories to his name, and even some of the best STORIES featuring him are not necessarily the best INTERPRETATIONS of him. For instance, I love “Robin: Year One,” and I adore the way the Hatter LOOKS in that comic…but the actual depiction of him is not exactly my preferred take on Jervis Tetch. Much like Harley Quinn, Jervis Tetch is a villain I tend to be a bit picky about. A lot of comics tend to depict him as a downright repulsive character; a grotesque little gremlin who needs to be punched out as quickly as possible, and is meant to be utterly repugnant to the readers. Very few comics try to give him any humanity or anything that would make him appealing, and I really don’t know why that is. Even the ones that DO try don’t always necessarily SUCCEED at full capacity. So, how come the Mad Hatter ranks so highly for me? To be blunt, just personal bias. I love the “Alice” stories by Lewis Carroll, and the Hatter was always my favorite character. In fact, I’m frankly a little obsessed with those books myself, so in a weird way, while many Batman Villains are dark reflections of ol’ Batsy himself, the Hatter I like because he’s really more a dark reflection of ME. I don’t want to get too personal, and perhaps this will sound a little too melodramatic, but I’ve always felt that if I allowed myself to be ruled by the darker parts of my life and my own being, I could basically become Jervis Tetch. I think that’s also WHY I’m so picky and borderline PROTECTIVE of the character; it’s one thing for Batman to see himself in a villain, but when YOU see YOURSELF in that character? It becomes another issue. So when I see something that sickens me to my core, it hurts in a different sort of way. With that said, when the character is done right, he CAN be used to great effect. In terms of the comics, my favorite version is probably the one written by Jeph Loeb in stories like “The Long Halloween” and “Batman: Madness.” This is mostly because it’s one of the few takes on Tetch that makes him an effective PERSONAL threat to Batman: in that version, Batman is revealed to have loved the “Alice” books as a boy, and his mother read the story of Wonderland to him on the very night she and Bruce Wayne’s father were murdered. As a result, the mere EXISTENCE of the Mad Hatter touches a nerve, as Tetch corrupts Bruce’s childhood unwittingly. I’ve always found that idea interesting, and I really have no clue why other versions don’t take greater advantage of it. In other media, the Hatter has been used rarely, but frequently quite well: the version from the Animated Series, voiced by Roddy McDowall, is perhaps my definitive take on the character. I also do approve of the versions from the Arkham games AND the series “Gotham,” both of which I think did a good job of making a Hatter who was disturbing and depraved, but also giving him some sort of appeal, each in their own unique ways. While the Wonderland-obsessed Tetch is great, much like I did with the Cavalier, I DO want to give some kudos to the OTHER version of the Mad Hatter that exists in comics. Yes, there is another version, and I can honestly say that while he’s not as well-known, he does seem to be more consistent in the quality of his appearances.

For a while, you see, there was a different Mad Hatter who bedeviled the Caped Crusaders. This Hatter was a remarkably different character: more obsessed with headgear than the Lewis Carroll classics, his ultimate goal was to steal Batman’s cowl and add it to his collection. He also would use hat-themed gimmicks and gadgets to commit more ordinary robberies and other crimes. This Hatter has had fewer appearances than the more modern, mainstream one, but he’s just as much fun, in my mind…and he’s had the good fortune of also having a worthy adaptation to other media, courtesy of the one played by David Wayne in the 60s series, so kudos there! (If you want to learn more about the extremely bizarre, warped history of BOTH Mad Hatters, turn here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pc3b2AlXRfM) There’s really not much left to say: I love the Mad Hatter for personal, simple reasons, and I see no reason not to give both interpretations third place on my countdown. He’s probably not that high for most other people, but there you have it! The end draws ever nearer. Tomorrow I’ll be covering my 2nd Favorite Batman Villain. HINT: He’s a Puzzling Fellow, Indeed.

[batfam-imagines]

Choices

A/N: This one is a little long, and was an idea that has been stuck in my head for awhile. Not all of my ideas managed to make it into the story, mainly because I’m not that good of a writer!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! Italics mean sign-language. I know that’s not how the word structure of real sign-language works, but it’s just easier to write this way.

———————————————————————————–

Bruce watches the two videos in utter horror.  One is of Robin, his second son, his Jason, being beaten with a crowbar by Joker, and the other is of Sparrow, Jason’s best friend, Bruce’s only daughter, being held at knife-point by Harley Quinn. Bruce had an impossible decision to make. He could only save one of his children, which one was is going to be?

--

Batman’s knees buckle, his fingers scrabbling frantically through the rubble, desperate for any sign of life. He couldn’t have been too late. Joker had made him choose. He’d made his choice, and had still been too late. He couldn’t be too late.

“Batsy, Batsy, Batsy!” The Jokers voice seems to echo through Bruce’s head, it takes his sluggish brain a moment to realize he must have stolen a Comm unit. “Just a few minutes too late, Batsy! Poor little bird just kept beggin’ for ya! He was so confident that you’d show!” The scrape of a knife on metal is loud even over the Comm, “Now. What am I gonna do with this pretty little thing?”

Harley’s loud laughter seemingly echo’s through Bruce’s head at the realization: they still have Y/N. One of his children is still in danger. “Why don’t we cut off all her feathers, Mista J?! Birdies can’t fly without feathers!”

“Not a bad idea, Harley, but I was thinking something a little more … permanent” Bruce feels like he’s paralyzed. He’d never found out where they’d been holding Y/N because he’d been so focused on finding Jason, he thought he would have more time. “She’s been screamin’ an awful lot since we killed that other bird, why not make it so the bird can’t sing anymore!”

Finally, Bruce finds the strength to respond, “No! Joker, you said I had to choose! You said I could save one!”

Another manic cackle spills directly into Bruce’s ear, “And you could have saved one. You could have saved that little street-rat of a Robin, but you were too late. You made your choice, Batman, and you chose wrong” It’s obvious that Joker is moving. The knife continuous to scrape along metal, and those horrible gut-wrenching screams grow louder every second. “There’s no need for the tears, pretty bird! You’ll be joinin’ him soon enough!”

“Joker! You can’t do this!” Bruce can almost picture it, one of Joker’s hands in Y/N’s hair and yanking her head back, the other holding one of Y/N’s own knives to her throat.

“Oh, Batsy, when are you going to learn. I can do whatever I want!” There’s a slick sound of the knife cutting deep, and then harsh gurgles. Somewhere in back of Bruce’s mind he knows that the Joker must have taken out the Comm and help it right up to Y/N slit throat. After less than a minute, the gurgling quiets, “See what happens, Batsy, when you bring children into our game?”

--

Talia al Ghul watches the two figures move listlessly through Gotham’s streets. She turns to one of her guards, “And you are sure it’s them?”

“Yes, Mistress. We have had our spies watching them for two months now. The way they fight is a match to the deceased Robin and Sparrow”

“Interesting. We will be taking them back to the Compound with us. Gather the men, I will gather my Beloved’s children.”

Talia scales down the building, landing several feet in front of the two teenagers. Almost immediately the girl, Y/N if she remembers correctly, is in front of the much more injured male. Y/N’s vacant eyes hover near Talia, and she lets out a shrill whistle that makes Jason tense.

“I am not here to hurt you, little ones. I am here to help you, to get you off the street,” Y/N let out a curious sounding whistle, and Jason hummed softly in response. “That’s right, somewhere safe”

Slowly the two inched towards Talia, Y/N still keeping herself firmly between Jason any anyone else. Talia grinned, these two were the ticket to her Beloved’s heart. These two would become her perfect weapons.

--

It wasn’t until several weeks later that Talia’s father joined her in observing the two teenagers fight. While their minds had not been fully restored to them, their ability to fight had been.

“The girl has potential. Even without her mind, she fights with thought. The boy, however, he is not unlike a rabid dog, his only thought is to survive.” Ra’s watches as Y/N takes down one of the League members who had been sneaking up on Jason, “And yet they always fight for each other.”

“They care for each other, even though they do not who they themselves are. And they care for children. Many nights I have found Y/N or Jason, or both of them in Damian’s room, or indulging him in play fights” Talia watches her father out of the corner of her eye, “They both have potential, I just need a little more time to reach -”

“Enough, daughter. These pets of yours are taking up too much of your time. I have already allowed you to keep Damian, but I cannot allow you to keep both the child and these two.” Ra’s turns to completely face his daughter, “You have a choice to make, and I would suggest you choose wisely”

--

Talia had made her choice. She could not kill two children that her Beloved loved so much, and she could no longer bare to endanger her son. She had gathered as many people loyal to her as possible and was going to try and pull off an impossible scheme. She was going to use the Lazarus Pit on Y/N and Jason, and then have them run as far and as fast as possible with Damian. If this plan doesn’t work, then all of them would be dead by morning.

--

It had worked. Somehow Talia’s plan to get you, Jason, and Damian to safety had worked. The little four-year-old was curled up in your lap, having fallen asleep soon after the private jet took off. Jason is still shaking, the aftereffects of the Pit not having worn off yet.

Snapping your fingers, Jason’s eyes latch onto your hands, “Are you okay?” Even though the Pit had left nothing, but a scar wrapped around your throat, it had not been able to restore your voice to you. Thankfully Bruce had made you and Jason learn basic sign-language to communicate on stealth missions, and the two of you had just continued the education, becoming fluent.

“I’m fine. Everything feel so … fresh, you know? And I’m so damn angry at B for choosing me over you, and then getting both of us killed anyway”

“Watch swearing around Damian. And we got ourselves into the mess, it was our fault. It’s in the past. Focus on now”

“I know, I know. We get a second chance at life even if we both have crazy PTSD and Pit-Madness. Now we’re off to travel the world for a few years with a toddler to become the most deadly assassins alive” Jason rakes a hand through his now white streaked hair, “This will be freaking fantastic, Y/N”

“Better than being dead” Damian starts to stir in your lap from the constant hand movements. His jade-green eyes blinking up at you. “Good morning, little prince”

The smile he flashes at you would brighten even Gotham’s rainiest day, “Good morning, ‘Gale!”

Jason snorts and ruffles Damian’s hair, “Her name isn’t Gale, kid. Her name is Y/N”

Damian rolls his eyes with all the attitude a four-year-old could muster, and considering he was raised by Talia, it was a lot. “I know that, dummy! But she whistles like the Nightingales in Mother’s room. Nightingale is her new super name; I don’t have one for you Jay”

“It’s okay, little man. We’ll figure one out for me and you sometime soon. Okay?”

The little boy grins, “Okay. Where are we going?” This time he looks up at you for an answer, but you gently tap you throat and shake your head. “You still can’t talk? The green water didn’t fix you all the way?”

“No, it didn’t. When we were hurt, there were some things that couldn’t be healed all the way.” Jason glances over at you, at the scar the barely peeks out from the turtleneck.

“How can I talk to Y/N then?!” Damian’s lower lip wobbles dangerously.

“Don’t worry, kid. Y/N can talk with her hands, it’s called sign-language. Both us will teach you, and then you’ll be able to talk to Y/N as much as you want, okay?” Immediately Damian brightens, and demands to be taught something. “Alright, lets learn the alphabet first.” And that’s how the rest of the plane ride is spent, with you and Jason teaching Damian how to sign the alphabet.

--

It takes another six years for the three of you to end up back on Gotham, and the main reason you’re there is so Jason can kill the Joker.

“Jay, I still don’t think this is the best idea. We said that we were going to stay away from Batman, not antagonize him”

“I am in pain right now, Y/N. Can you patch me up and save the lecturing for later” Jason gingerly lays down along the couch as you pull out the first aid kit, “And plus, it’s not like I went looking for him! He and Dickhead attacked me!”

“Language, Jason. You know Y/N does not like it when you swear around me” Damian quietly closes his book and surveys the damage done to the only fatherly figure in his life, “I could kill them for you”

“Listen, kid, if I couldn’t take them, then you couldn’t take them” Jason hisses as you pour alcohol over one of his cuts, “And plus, Y/N doesn’t want you to go out while we’re in Gotham. Batman might find you”

Damian rolls his eyes, “I do not care about Bruce Wayne or Batman. He does not even know I exist. I do not need a father; I already have one”

“Aw, Dami, you’re gonna make me choke up!”

The ten-year-old scoffs, “I made my choice many years ago. You two are the only family I need. My father does not know of my existence, my mother never tried to contact me after sending me away, and my grandfather is constantly trying to kill me”

“We love you too, Damian. We can go out tomorrow night if you want, Jason will be resting” You throw a glare at Jason who just holds up his hands and grins.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. Just as long as you bring back some tacos from that truck on 17th, the owner likes you more than me.”

Damian grins, “Of course, they have the best vegetarian tacos”

--

Damian, as always, is eager to put on his mask and hit the rooftops. Unlike Jason whose main goal is to cause chaos and keep all the focus on him, you and Damian are meant to stay under the radar, to gather as much information as possible.

“Stay low, stay quiet. Do not draw attention to yourself. If we are found, you hide, I will handle it. Understand, Shadow?” Being in the field without a voice is dangerous, it means if you get in trouble the only way someone can find you is if they can hear you whistle or follow the tracker that only Jason and Damian have access to.

“I know, ‘Gale. I will be careful, Batman will not even know I am in the city, I swear”

“Good. Now, let’s go before Jason comes with us” Jason chuckles from his seat on the couch and flips you the bird.

--

“The city is quiet tonight.” You glance over at Damian to see him perched slightly under one of the many gargoyles, trying to get out of the rain. “It does not seem as foul on nights such as this”

You snort, “Now that you said that, something is going to happen. Besides, I thought I told you to go home. You’ll get sick”

“I will not get sick from rain.”

Before you can reply, three figures land one a nearby building. Barely moving, you send a quick sign to Damian, one of the first words you had taught him, “Hide”

Immediately Damian slips further into the shadows, his much smaller body easy sliding between the stone structures. It takes almost 20-minutes for Batman, Robin, and Nightwing to finally leave, and another 15 for you to be sure they’re gone. “Come out, it’s safe”

“I hate this city. I hate that Jason feels the need to seek revenge and torment your former family. Why didn’t you and I wait for him elsewhere, like we had planned? Seeing them terrifies you, and that makes me hate them”

“I chose to come here with Jason. He needs us to keep him sane, and this city drives people insane much faster than most. When we lived on the streets together as children, Jason and I promised to always stay together, no matter what. We are here to protect Jason and to help him, little prince, that is what we chose to do as a family”

Damian lets out another sigh, “Fine, but as long as we’re in the city I want to fight Robin at least once, to prove that I am superior”

“Whatever you want. Now, let’s go mix up some trouble, I’m getting a little bored” You flash a bright smile at Damian and ruffle his wet hair.

“Sounds fun. I’ve been wanting to try out my knew knives”

“And then tacos. We can’t forget the tacos or Jason won’t let us hear the end of it”

———————————————————————————–

Let me know what you think! Send any ideas or requests you have to my Ask Box!

[crystallinee-waters]

Life and Death: Chapter 20 [Joker/Harley Quinn]

Story summary: After the events of Suicide Squad, the princess of the crime empire is born. Raising her proves to be a killer game. Chapter summary: Harley has to take a deep dive and Amanda Waller has a plan.

"History repeats itself I didn't learn, I wouldn't listen I couldn't see the books were on the shelf For my concern, I never missed 'em" -----------------------------------------------------

Harley blinked slowly towards the light, feeling the rough surface underneath her body. For a moment she expected to see a skylight above thick metal bars, but the ceiling was solid and dark, the only source of light being fluorescent lamps outside her cell.

She was dressed in a bleached orange attire and there were metal bars surrounding her, then bullet-proof glass. She didn't recognize it, but she knew it was not her old cell at that place. Reflexively, she put her hand on the back of her neck, feeling the old scar there. No, this was not the same, but her body was tense and her senses alert. He wasn't here. Something stirred in the back of her mind. Me and Mistah J plucked his eyes out.

"Hey," she called out, "What's this? Hello?"

She stood up, trying to peek outside. Then, she blinked to see a large figure stepping into the room, standing on the other side of the metal bars.

"Batsy! To what do I owe the pleasure?" Her body was bruised and stiff and she suddenly remembered him knocking her out against the floor, pouncing on her and pressing the air out of her body. She hid the discomfort with a smile. Then it hit her and she rushed forward to press her face against the bars, feeling slight electricity buzz through her skin. It was almost pleasurable, comfortably numbing.

"Where's Jay? What did ya do to her?"

She saw his eyes, as dark and sullen as ever, looking back at her from the other side.

"Isn't it selfish, Harleen?" His voice was low. "To bring a child into this?"

She stared back at him. "Isn't it selfish to have little side-kicks running around grown criminals, getting killed, Bat-brain?" she snapped back. "I need to see her!"

"You're a danger to her. Child services will take care of her now."

"No, I'm not!" She slammed her fists against the bars, ignoring the electricity increasing as she slammed harder, voice rising. "Hey, Bat-brain! What are ya talkin' about? She's mine! What have you done to her?" Her head and body were stinging now, almost numbed.

"The Joker has been apprehended. It's over."

She bared her teeth. If he was in her cell, she would tear his mask off and she would kill him with her bare hands.

"If you love her," Batman said, closer to the glass, his voice hard. "Do the right thing and let her go. Give her a chance to live another kind of life."

Something, a memory from long ago poked at the surface. You thought, what, that you could just have a normal life? We don't get normal.

She slammed her head into the bars until the electricity suddenly increased and the world exploded in a cascade of stars.

.

Harley lifted her head from the wall in the far end of the room, feeling the warmth seep into her hair. A dark spot explained the aching in her head. She felt like she was wrapped up in tin foil and bubble wrap all at once, but something refused to be muted.

She examined the guards posted outside her cell – they never left her alone for a moment – and she wanted to laugh at the whole situation. This was a breeze compared to that other place with the cage and the skylight. Not even cementing a solid wall around her would keep her in there for much longer.

She tried to remember the story, vaguely, because Mistah J loved it. Baby loved it too when she was little. It was something about a pig or a house. Someone blew the house down, and there was a wolf – or maybe a rabbit. The wolf power-sawed his way into her cell and she ran into his arms. She decided on the rabbit. They're cuter.

Straightening up, she called for one of the guards' attention and he warily turned around to face her, demonstratively holding his AK-47 in front of his chest.

"This is just a wolf house!" Harley argued. "I mean, the pig could blow it down, just like that! Huff and puff!"

The guards exchanged a look and Harley laughed, ignoring the aching in her head. "Come on, it's funny!"

They muttered something, turning away from her. She pouted and crossed her legs, pretending to study the hem of her vomit-colored shirt as she listened to their hushed voices. They were talking about her. She silently inched closer to the opening of the cell, slow and non-threatening.

"Can you believe she used to work here?" one of them muttered.

"Yeah, man. I heard she got knocked up by one of the patients, the craziest one. They didn't know until now."

"I know, heard they're keeping the kid in here as well."

Harley froze in the middle of a giggle. The guards stiffened and turned around.

"Jay," she mumbled. "Where's she? Is she sick? Where's she?"

"Calm down, Quinn."

"NO!"

The guards looked at each other again; she could read anxiousness starting to spread across their faces and it was amusing, but finally she broke through the bubble wrap. She realized it with half a giggle, they must have medicated her. Me-di-ca-t- e d … It must have been for a while too, because the bruises on her body had started fading.

She got up with one sudden movement and slammed her hands against the bars of her cell, making one of the guards jump.

"Where's my baby? Where did you put her? If ya don't tell me, I'll rip your throats out! I will, one by one."

One of the guards spoke in his walkie-talkie, calling for backup. Soon enough she was restrained again when the entire medical team came sprinting along with ten heavily armed guards, and she felt the sting of a needle in her arm. She had a few moments to study their faces – the looks that the guards exchanged, the sweat on the doctor's forehead. He talked to the nurses while they sedated her. She closed her eyes, beginning to drift away, pretending she was already gone.

"They need to relocate her as soon as possible - this place is a blinking target! I don't know what the administration is waiting for."

"I just wish they'd tell us," someone said, floating way above her. "Everyone's getting unruly -"

She couldn't fight the fuzziness spreading through her, invading her nerve system – she knew the name of the chemical compounds – and she saw her Puddin's face in front of her again. He's coming for us.

She felt it in the very core of herself, that somewhere her other half was waiting for her, planning.

It was alright. It was soft, like a child's hand on her forehead, like innocence and slaughter.

She smiled. With the thoughts of him, it felt like losing her consciousness on that table after the first electroshock treatment, and his hands were on the side of her face, stroking it gently. His eyes never left hers, and she was so close to him. She welcomed it, dove into it, accepted everything he wanted to give her.

In her feverish dream, there was a child, but the image distorted.

 .

 "I'd like to talk about your daughter today, Harley."

"Yeah?" Harley perked up, as the room materialized itself around her – she had not been aware of it or how she ended up chained to a chair, in a straightjacket, with a man in a white coat in front of her. He looked so utterly boring.

She grimaced, but he smiled politely and said something more, but she didn't catch it. "Come again?"

He adjusted his glasses. "How did you feel when she was born?"

"I was so happy, of course." She smiled bright at him. She'd show him just how friendly she could be. She wasn't a threat, no, no.

The psychiatrist scribbled something down. "Did you and... Mr. J plan to have a child?

She tilted her head to the side. "Nah. It just happened, ya know, Puddin' and I spent every night together when I came home from Belle Reve..."

The memories of the happy moments were there, the intensity of it, how he never left her alone for a moment. He was always next to her, his hands on her hips or around her waist. She had clung to him, drowning him in her over-flowing passion and affection, her makeup always smeared, he was smelling like her perfume and it had been perfect. Days entangled with him and he had touched her, held her, stayed inside of her for hours and hours -

Until that strange, new voice appeared in her head one day, the voice of Baby. It was jarring, and to make it go away, he slipped her the first pill -

She blinked quickly, taking a deep, shaky breath before she composed herself. She watched the shrink's expressions as closely as he was reading hers, and it was funny again.

"Did he want... I believe you said her name was - ?"

"Lucy," she hissed.

"Did Mr. J want to have Lucy?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What are ya sayin'?"

He was completely formal, scribbling in his notes. "Was he happy when she was born?"

Harley glared at him. "Of course he was!"

"Did he ever hurt her?"

Don't you get it? Harleen said coldly, suddenly appearing in her head. Her presence was sudden, making her skin crawl - it had been too long since she last paid any attention to her. He wants to know if you were forced to have the baby, or if Mistah J tried to kill it.

Harley made a violent movement. "Don't ever speak of Mistah J like that!" she shrieked, having wormed her straightjacket-bound body already half-way across the table when the guards rushed in to pull her back. They brought up the syringes, already tearing at her clothes.

"No, wait!" the psychiatrist called, making them stand back warily. "I'll ask another question."

Harley slumped down in her seat. "Where are you, baby?" she mumbled. "Mommy misses you so much."

Ask him, Harleen urged her on in her head - they were working towards the same goal again, something they rarely ever did anymore, and Harleen was forceful. Harley put on her nice face again.

"What do ya wanna know, Doctor?"

He looked through his notes, then back at her, motioning to the guards to stand back.

"Tell me more about Lucy, Harley. What was her childhood like?"

Harley leaned forward. "I'll tell ya whatever ya wanna know. If you do one teeny, tiny thing for me – let me see her. She must be so scared and afraid without her Mommy."

She saw the torn look in his eyes.

"Please," Harley begged. "She needs me!"

He cleared his throat. "I have not met your daughter, and I'm not authorized to make any decisions. I'm only here to do an evaluation on you before..."

"Before what?" She leaned forward. "Before you move me? Am I going back to that place, huh? Tell me!"

"I don't know."

"Then who do I need to talk to?" Harley struggled to lean ever further forward. "Amanda Waller?"

She studied his face closely and saw the tiniest of muscles around his eyes twitch, telling her what she needed to know.

Harleen was still watching, claws bared. She ached for Mistah J, and the rawness of her need made Harley's breathing speed up. She leaned back slightly, pouting, feeling the tears pool in her eyes.

"Please, mister. Do what you can. I'm just a mom who loves her baby. I'll cooperate, I'll do anything you say if you just let me see her. I'll be good!"

"I'll see what can be arranged," he said without meeting her eyes. She didn't trust him, but it was better than nothing.

After the session she let herself calmly be wheeled off to her cell, for once not struggling or messing with the guards, and Harleen took over.

She thought of Mistah J when she laid down on the mattress in her cell. She missed being able to climb her old cage, doing somersaults in the air, soothing herself to sleep like a spider in a nest. She stayed awake, the way she used to back in the days when it was just the two of them. She would keep herself up all night if she needed to, guarding him, gently coaxing him to sleep.

The years after Jaylie was born, Mistah J's sleeping got better, deeper. Jaylie, on the other hand, was restless. She slept in their bed the first month after being returned from her kidnappers, always uneasy. Harley would pick her up and hold her tightly, Mommy's not gonna let anyone hurt you, ever. Mommy will stab their eyeballs out. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it made her more frantic.

Mistah J used to ignore it, but sometimes he rolled over, forcing Jaylie to face him. It felt like they were here and Jaylie had woken up once again, trembling from another nightmare.

She saw him turning to her. "What's eatin' you, Pumpkin? Tell Daddy so he can get some sleep, or he'll kick you out of bed."

"Batsy," she gasped, "I was lost - "

He craned his head and growled quietly, before he pulled her closer, his face hovering above hers. His thumb stroked something away from her face.

"I'm the one that Gotham fears. Batsy's terrified –" he chuckled against her forehead. "- That I will pick up his little apprentice and play with him again. It would be too easy."

"Robin," she whispered, already calming down.

"That's right." He grinned, before giving her a chastising look. "So whatcha so tense for? Do ya want me to scare ya?"

"I'm not scared." Jaylie stuck out her chin defiantly.

"Oh, really?" He bared his teeth. "Then why are ya stiff like a corpse?"

"I'm just sleepy." He rolled his eyes, seeing through her act, but she didn't move away from him.

"Now shut it, Pumpkin." He rolled over onto his back, and Harley moved closer, gently squishing Jaylie in between them. Her breathing had slowed down. Harley kissed the tip of her nose, singing quietly to her about bats and mockingbirds.

Now, here in the cell, Mistah J was lying next to her on the narrow mattress, and Harley raised her hand to gently stroke his green tresses out of his face. Her body wound itself around him like it remembered to, fitting his perfectly, and she breathed deeply of his scent.

He pushed her into the plastic material for a moment, chuckling against her neck. She fell asleep listening to his breathing that slowly faded away.

  Amanda Waller closed the folder in front of her. "This is the situation we have."

Rick Flag stared at her. "You can't be serious. Just let the CPS handle it. I'm a soldier, not a nurse." He looked over to the social secretary who scribbled something down in her notes. "Isn't it against the law to incarcerate a kid anyway?"

"She's too dangerous; she needs to be handled by trained professionals."

"She's what, eleven?"

"Rick," Amanda said, her eyes and voice cutting through him. "This is the kid of two insane criminals. She will provide invaluable insight on how they operate, and why she didn't die of neglect years ago. She's been caught on security tapes all over the city – she's guilty of both manslaughter and robbery, all on her own."

"How do you know she's theirs? What if they kidnapped and brainwashed her? Hell, did you even think -"

"We have stored DNA from the Joker from Arkham. It's a clear match to the girl's." Amanda gave him a wry smile, cold as always. "I doubt anyone but Harley Quinn would be the other half in that equation, but that is still a possibility. We will find out soon enough, once her DNA results are back. I have her too, in my safe keep."

Rick wouldn't even try to question the legality of that fact. "So you want me to question Quinn? Or the kid?"

"We can't get them to say anything of substance - it is not reliable in any case. The girl's not talking either, and it's her information we need. With whatever methods necessary. There might be other children out there, hidden away. You have worked with Harley Quinn - use that to get to the girl. I want information about the other girl as well - Zoe Lawton, who was with her at the time of her arrest. You know her father."

Rick tried to contain the words he wanted to shout at her. "I don't know any of them, I was responsible for them for a couple of missions."

"Deadshot went missing about a month ago. Zoe Lawton disappeared after police dropped her off at home, three weeks ago. He might be hiding her and I want her in for questioning."

Rick couldn't hold back a chuckle of irritation. "This isn't about the kid, is it? You don't care about saving lives. You just want your information, so you can get your taskforce back in action. Because Quinn is a valuable asset? Well, she's not anymore."

Amanda looked at him. Rick tensed when he understood – he had been working for her long enough to know.

"You want to use the girl, don't you? A perfect little replacement for Quinn - a kid who officially doesn't even exist? Another scumbag metahuman?"

"We'll help," June Moone interrupted.

They all looked at her, Rick shocked. "June!"

She ignored him, turning to Amanda Waller. "If it's the same girl I met… I could talk to her. She trusted me."

Rick shook his head. "June, what are you talking about? She's too dangerous!"

"With your assistance, there is no need for me to bring your wife back to Arkham for yet another psychological evaluation," Waller reminded them calmly, the shadow of a smile hinting on her lips. "Only I can assure them that the Enchantress really is gone."

Rick held back a curse.

"You need to remember," Amanda said, looking at June. "The girl has committed murders in cold blood. Joker and Harley Quinn created a very effective tool to continue their ways. She will be treated like a criminal."

June nodded, then turned to Rick. "I remember Harley Quinn. We don't know what really happened since then."

He tried not to raise his voice at her. "Do you know what happened at that Arkham breakout that got the Joker back on the streets? Do you know how many people died because she decided to help him? No one who's sane in the head does that. She's the worst kind of criminal."

"I'll talk to the girl," June said again, and Amanda Waller smiled.

TBC.

Comments, reblogs and likes are loved!

[gobydana]

I have a tumor (can be removed I'm not gonna die) and am quickly losing my hearing, but I'm struggling to learn sign language. Could you write Cass helping a younger batsis with ASL?

A/N: Fun fact: I actually learned ASL at my local community college in order to get some language credits at my university. So used some of that knowledge when writing this. 

- Batsis came to Cass because she knew she would be the best at teaching her. 

- Super patient teacher as batsis learned because it takes awhile. 

- Got her the chart with pictures for the letters and numbers in order to start. 

- Learned the best way was just to start practicing with conversation via ASL. 

- Taught her how people’s faces can give away a lot. 

- It’s okay to put your whole body into it. It’s not just about using your hands. 

- Adding expression with what you say can change a whole meaning.

- Sometimes it is just reading a story through ASL like a simple children’s book. 

- Or having batsis repeat her day to her. 

- One day, Alfred came into the kitchen to find Cass holding up random food items that batsis would have to sign back to her. 

- Cass stressing going slow at first. Knowing how hard it is when people go fast and you can’t follow. 

- Like might take her a bit to sign a sentence and stops a bit. But Cass so happy she can do a whole sentence.

- Batsis getting super excited when she can do a whole sentence. 

- Lots of random pointing at things and making her sign it back. 

- Making the family help out and carry on conversations on with her in ASL. 

- Letting her use the books with pictures on how to sign things for as long as she needs. Wants her to be comfortable. 

- Lots of reassuring smiles. 

- Fixing her hands when she is learning. 

- Typically does more one on one until she is comfortable with more people. 

- Judges by how she is, on how much they take on each day. When she can tell she is getting frustrated, will go slower. 

- FInds games are a great method to use. Makes it more fun for batsis. 

[dreadhaus-literature]

“Evidence.”

“Guys...don’t panic but...I think we’re in Silent Hill.”

All heads in the party swiveled toward Michael “Booster Gold” Carter, who was looking around the horrifying landscape with his mouth agape. Beside him, Wade “Deadpool” Wilson had a matching expression, visible under his mask, but the duo that made up “DeadGold” or “Boosterpool” or “DeadBooster” or “PoolGold” (arguably the dumbest out of all the name combinations based on a Haus poll that nearly broke the network in everyone’s rush to condemn it) were the only two who didn’t seem to know this was the intended place to be.

Tony “Iron Man” Stark was looking between the two besties with his trademark “you’re an idiot” face, his square jaw tightening for a moment or two before he spoke.

“Yeah, what was your first piece of evidence to that, Booster, was it the giant fucking sign to our right?” Tony didn’t miss a beat. “And why the hell are you two here, again?”

“Because, Daddy-in-law, Mommi’s here!” Wade threw his gloved hands up with a squeal of unbridled excitement.

Tony’s lip all but curled. “I’ve told you about calling me that--”

“Can you be my Daddy-in-law, too?” Michael cut in. “I’ll marry one of your other sons if you want to make it like, really official. Or would marrying Wade be enough--”

“Mikey~” Wade all but purred. “If you want to propose to me you’ve got to do it on both knees, holding one of my hands and one of Mommi’s hands--”

“Touch her and I’m sending you two to the Otherworld.” Carol “Captain Marvel” Danvers was another member of this particular party, and she was giving Michael and Wade a look that said she meant what she said, but she shot Monica a grin and a wink when the smaller woman looked up at her.

“So this isn’t the Otherworld?” Michael looked around, unfamiliar with this particular place. Wade, on the other hand, was not. He’s irritated Alessa enough to be sent here before.

“Nopey nope, this is the Smog World.”

...But apparently that still wasn’t enough for him to actually learn something.

“Fog World,” Monica corrected gently, unable to help looking away when Wade turned the full brunt of his suffocating attention on her.

“Oh Mommi you’re so smart!” Wade threw his heavily muscled arms around her petite shoulders, nuzzling his masked cheek against hers.

“What did I tell you about touching her?” Carol cut in, half-joking, but it was Tony who pinched Wade’s masked ear between two of his fingers and hauled him off Monica.

“Move it, buddy, I need to get started with the reason we’re all here.” Tony didn’t add it was because he was selfish and every time someone touched Monica who wasn’t him (or best buddy Al or Batsy Bruce) he got prickly.

“Why are we here?” Monica asked. “I was joking when I told Dottie I’d want to tackle Silent Hill if I got a kiddie version of it. I don’t really need to tame Silent Hill. I’d be okay if I didn’t.”

Tony’s smile reached his eyes listening to Monica speak and he couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to her forehead as he attached something similar to his glowing arc reactor to the front of her shirt with careful, loving fingers. A Daddy’s mindful touch.

“I wanted to test the newest prototype for your Safety Suit,” Tony explained. “Carebear needs to be here because she keeps teasing me about how your suit isn’t very safe--”

“Ohmygod you call her Carebear?!” Michael looked between Tony and Carol with a boyish grin, blond hair bouncing. Wade had his gloved hands clasped to his cheek.

Carol slowly slid her gaze to Tony, who wasn’t looking at her but rather using nimble, calloused fingers to gingerly adjust the reactor on Monica’s chest. The fog was so dense around them it swirled between his fingers and despite the group standing so close together, occasionally visibility between them dipped and cast each other in ominous shadow. The Family was safe and together but the ambiance of Silent Hill couldn’t be ignored and Monica gave in to a little chill that was partly due to the ice of the fog (who knew fog could be so cold?) and partly because...they were in Silent Hill.

“I’m going to regret asking this, but...what does S.A.F.E.T.Y. stand for?” Carol slipped her leather jacket off after noticing Monica shiver, slipping it around her little’s petite shoulders. “Here you go, baby,” she murmured quietly, rubbing her hands up and down Monica’s arms to help bring some warmth back to her sun-kissed skin.

“T-Thank you, Carol.”

“Mommy,” Carol winked back, before Tony answered the first question--partly in an attempt to stop Carol flirting with Monica.

“Safely Affording Felina Effective Tranquility Yearly.”

Carol blinked, several times. “...What?”

“Okay, Spaceface, you come up with a better acronym for SAFETY.” Tony straightened up, giving absolutely zero time for Carol to do that--mostly because no one upstages Tony Stark, especially in front of his little girl. “I didn’t know a Safety Suit needed an acronym when what it does is in the title.”

“Well I mean it makes sense to me,” Michael cut in, scratching his head. “With the acronym you know it’s Felina’s safety suit. Like it’s supposed to keep her safe, not anyone else.”

Tony gestured with one hand toward Michael, but Carol was not impressed.

“You’re taking a Win from Wade’s best friend?”

Tony shrugged one broad shoulder. “I’ve taken one from Barton so what’s the difference?”

Carol laughed. “Fine, you got me there. So this suit is actually going to work?”

“T-The suits always work!!” Monica couldn’t help interject, giving her little arms a flap inside Carol’s jacket. “I’m just a wuss!”

“You’re not a wuss, angel.” Tony shook his dark head, giving her a charming smile. “But this way, Daddy gets to be the one to keep you safe. And to answer your ill-phrased question, Bestie, this suit works like a charm. She’ll be able to see and interact with the monsters she encounters but they won’t be able to see her to fuck with her.”

“Yeah, that was a huge problem with the last one.” Carol couldn’t help but jab at her best friend once more, who looked none too pleased about that.

“I’m going to ignore you’re making it sound like it’s my fault monsters act like monsters and just move on to the demonstration of Monica’s amazing new suit.” Tony reached out and tapped two fingers on the reactor secured to Monica’s chest and instantly, the same nanites that make up Tony’s trademark armor were sliding over Monica’s body like a warm hug, almost as if she had warm honey pouring over her. The helmet was the final touch and before the alloy faceplate slid over her, Tony leaned down and stole a kiss.

In a matter of seconds Monica was encased in her own Iron Armor (not the first she’s ever owned, Tony works on improvements to her Iron Armor all the time) but this particular prototype was exclusively for any horror realities and simulations Monica may find herself in, such as exploring the world of her Soma game. It resembled Tony’s armor in design (selfishly, possessively, he wanted anyone who saw her in it to know he’d made it for her) but fit her perfectly and was decorated in the most beautiful sea-sapphire blue. The reactor in her chest was shaped like the infinity symbol (what he knew to be her favorite) and within the helmet Monica was connected to JARVIS as well as her own GHOST AI, working in tandem to help keep her from being overloaded with information at any given moment.

“How’s it feel, honey?” Carol came around the front and as Monica turned to look at her, the interface put a little square around her face and began listing Carol’s name, stats, and threat level--which of course was at zero, since Carol would never hurt Monica.

“It feels good! Really cool--Daddy can I fly?!” Monica turned to Tony, who couldn’t help but laugh and nod.

“Of course. You’ve got my repulsor tech just like in your Armor.”

Michael and Wade, meanwhile, were ooo’ing and aww’ing as they walked in circles around Monica, all but fanboying at seeing their favorite girl looking like the badass super-villain she was, clad head to toe in armor that would protect her from any and all threats.

“So that’s why we’re here. We need to test the new tech against some monsters and where better than Silent Hill?” Tony looked up, though he wasn’t exactly sure how this worked. “Uh, Alessa? We’re ready, go ahead and start.”

It seemed the little girl was listening because as soon as Tony finished speaking, the air raid siren started up, screaming it’s fury as the fog rushed from around them as if a giant had taken a single, deep breath. The eerie light that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere dissipated and was replaced by the darkest night any of them had seen, as if the giant had then swallowed them whole. The siren shrieked it’s outrage one final time before dying in the darkness and leaving stark silence in it’s wake...

...but that didn’t last long.

The sound of heavy flesh being dragged along asphalt reached the group’s ears and even inside her armor, the sound was a little unsettling to Monica’s ears. Out of the darkness directly in front of them came something that...resembled roadkill. It was mangled, bloody and oozing, and it’s limbs were at horrid angles as it dragged itself relentlessly forward--but it’s slow pace quickened as it “saw” them. Monica had no idea how, it didn’t seem to have a head, only limbs and a mangled body mass that would likely crush any of them if it connected with them. And it seemed to be barreling toward them like a runaway semi, further adhering itself to it’s “roadkill” imagery.

“All right sweetie, what’s the armor telling you about it?” Tony stepped a bit to the side, and as Monica continued to stare at the creature, the interface relayed information back to her.

“I-It’s called Carrion? I g-guess it’s like roadkill?” She swallowed thickly. “It’s danger level is listed as high, should--should we move?”

“No no, this is perfect. Tell the suit to activate stealth mode.”

Monica repeated the command and she overheard JARVIS’s confirmation, “Cloaking complete. You are now hidden, madam, and virtually undetectable.”

Monica turned to look at Tony. “JARVIS says I’m invisible? Am I--”

“WHOA MAMI YOU ARE INVISIBLE!” Michael exclaimed, and Wade was cheering.

Carol actually looked impressed. “Wow, Tone. This might actually work.”

“Yeah yeah I’m amazing and it’s about time everyone got on board with that,” Tony snagged Michael and Wade by the back of their shirts. “Come on, out of the way, I need to see if that thing can detect her at all and you idiots are in the way.”

“Pete says I am the way~”

“My son would never say that.”

“He does in my dreams.”

“It’s okay, Wade. I’ll say you’re the way.”

“Mikey have I told you that you’re my best friend--”

Monica had to bite her lip to stop the giggle as Carol literally knocked Wade and Michael’s heads together, the quad moving a little to the side of Monica, all eyes turning to the hulking mass that had been barreling down the road at them. As the group moved, it’s focus on Monica seemed to break and it slowed it’s pace down to it’s creeping crawl, heaving itself forward on broken, disjointed limbs as if trying to find her again--but to no avail. Even as it got close enough for Monica to reach out and touch (something she really didn’t want to do) it didn’t seem to know where she was and as she took a few steps back, she realized the shock absorption on her suit boots made her completely silent when she moved. Monica was safe as safe could be!

Which was a good thing, because despite all the safety precautions in place (and knowing Alessa would never let anything happen to her Mommi) Carol was still standing there with her sparkle fists at the ready to blast that thing into yet another dimension if something went wrong.

“Oh come on, Bestie, have a little faith in my designs.” Tony turned to Carol, gesturing at her hands. “It’s like you don’t believe in me at all.”

“Yeah, I’m not stroking your ego, Tony, that’s what the girls are for.”

“Uh, guys.” Michael tried to cut in.

“You could every once in a while. Even Al gives me compliments.”

“Good for Al, why didn’t you bring him?”

“Because I wanted to show you my suit worked!”

“Guys...” Wade tried this time.

Carol shook her blonde head. “I’ll be convinced it works when babygirl isn’t scared.”

“Yeah but if she never gets scared we’ll never get to hear her squeal again and who the hell wants that? No one, Carebear, no one wants that.”

“GUYS MAYBE NOW IS A GOOD TIME TO TELL US WE HAVE SAFETY SUITS TOO.” Michael finally started shouting to be heard, and when Tony turned to face him...he and Carol realized the monster, having lost sight of Monica, was now facing them. “BECAUSE IT LOOKS HANGRY.”

“Oh Daddy-in-law~ You did...pack us safety suits too, right?” Wade asked. “Because I didn’t bring my shooty-stabbies on this trip so a suit would be awesome right now.”

The creature let out an inhuman bellow of rage and started it’s charge, just in time for Tony to sheepishly say--

“I did specify the safety suit was just for Felina, right?”

[douxreviews]

Gotham - ‘The Beginning’ Review

Penguin: "I did not spend ten years in Blackgate to give my city to a man dressed like a bat!"

Me, watching the Gotham series finale and being confused that Gordon still doesn't have the iconic stache? It's more likely than you think.

If we're being honest, I could have watched a series finale that consisted of forty minutes featuring only Batman repeatedly foiling foolish and bumbling plots orchestrated by Penguin and Riddler, and walked away with zero complaints. Instead what we have is a suitcase-overstuffed-with-too-many-Tommy-Bahama-shirts of a plot that should have ran ninety minutes condensed into forty minutes. And yet, dare I say, I actually enjoyed this finale for what it was. It's flawed, contrived in some areas, and possesses a plot so convoluted, Donnie Darko is jealous, but I didn't walk away from the conclusion to Gotham feeling I had been cheated of something. But maybe that's just me coming to terms with the fact that no amount of time-jumps or finality are going to salvage the aspects of Gotham that are poor in quality.

The time-jump takes us ten years into the future, long after Gordon has been promoted and Bruce has left Gotham City. It's beyond me why this series chose to make such a drastic time-jump though, yet keep most of their cast members looking like they haven't aged a day. What's that? Oh right, how could I forget: they threw some purple hair dye in Lee's locks, now I can rest easy with that gripe.

Why Bruce went to a Tibetan-looking village specifically, we don't know, but something-something-bats happens, and he returns to his home city with a mission to drive out any trace of criminal activity he comes across, putting him on the radar of the mayor and the GCPD. At the same time, Jeremiah puts into motion a plot that for some reason needs to involve his escape from Arkham, Penguin, Riddler, the framing of Bullock for murder (I guess nobody bothered to dust the handgun that the victim – not Bullock – shot himself with for fingerprints?), and an immense collection of explosives to topple the new Wayne Tower. While Gotham has always had difficulties finding a consistent identity, it has mostly always walked a fine line between 'gritty' and 'campy,' and this is especially evident and welcomed in this finale, with certain sequences paying homage to the Year One comic, and others feeling like they were pulled right off of a Adam West Batman reel. I will also point out how the cinematography in this finale nicely contrasts the dark, dulled colors of everything before in Season 5, by giving us many vibrant, energetic scenes instead.

Another nice advantage a finale like this has compared to literally the entire series before it is that Gotham no longer needs to feel obligated to insert various easter eggs and set-ups for future characters; rather, it's allowed to take the cast it's been guiding towards their fated roles, and just allow them to be that. In other words, Gotham had freedom in this episode to do really whatever it wanted with the story now that there was no need for any further world-building, even if that story is borderline nonsensical at times.

I'm not sure yet even as I write this how I feel about David Mazouz and Camren Bicondova not returning to reprise their respective roles. Lili Simmons is fine as an older Selina and the resemblance between her and Camren is actually a little uncanny, but I can't imagine how much of a sucker punch it must feel to play so brilliantly the part of Bruce Wayne or Selina Kyle for five years and then learn that you won't even get a chance to put on the Batman-suit (which has this aesthetic to it that summoned some unpleasant memories of Batman and Robin) or Catwoman-costume when the finale is all said and done.

While we're on the subject of costumes, I have to give praise for Cory and Robin, and their input into the final designs for Riddler and Penguin; Riddler's outfit feels like a nice fusion of the spandex suit from Batman Forever, and the more formal wear from the Arkhamverse games, while Penguin's feels like it was inspired directly by the Burgess Meredith outfit. Perhaps issue may be taken with the fact that they may not seem as intellectually apt as before, or that Batsy got the best of them so quickly, but isn't that the whole point? From here on out, the feeling of being curbed by Batman's grappling hook is going to become practically routine for them. A service is done to the term 'callback' as well with Penguin and Gordon's scene on the docks, one I just wished hadn't been spelled out previously in the trailers, and Penguin's decision to taunt Gordon before pulling his trigger, evoking Riddler's words to him back in 'Heavydirtysoul': "Instead of killing me when you had the chance, you've decided to feed your ego."

I wasn't sold immediately on Jeremiah's final look as Joker from the promotional material. If I may be blunt, I miss the green curls, and scrutinized for days leading up to this finale over why the costume designers found inspiration for this look in The Walking Dead's whisperers. Cameron Monaghan though, in the precious five minutes of screen time he's given, succeeds in making Joker (or 'J' as he's now referring to himself as) once again feel like a distinct entity separate from Jerome or Jeremiah, as well as from previous live-action interpretations of the source material. It almost sounded as though he was channeling a Christopher Walken caricature, and the indication that he may find Batman just as, or even more, fascinating to obsess over as Bruce is pretty amusing to me. I'm not sure I understand even in reflection why he needed to frame Bullock as part of his whole operation though. It's in Bullock too where one of my major gripes with this episode lies, and it is how Bullock just feels more now as a plot point used to move other components of the story along. For example, why on Earth would an experienced detective like Bullock go alone to investigate a lead, how on Earth could an experienced detective like Bullock single-handily be bested by a single uppercut from around a corner, and I don't believe that an experienced detective like Bullock would keep the fact that someone set him up from Gordon of all people.

The actual execution of how to sell Batman in a finale like this is a tricky thing. On the one hand, I initially entertained this notion that Batman is never completely seen, but still his presence is felt. By the end though, what was also felt was that this episode seemed to be going out of its way to not show you the dark knight. Take for instance the final scene between him and Selina where Selina has her outburst, denouncing Bruce for walking out on her ten years ago. In most cases, I would think this is the type of conversation that warrants a face-to-face interaction. Instead, Selina chooses to keep her back to Batman in a rather impractical manner so that we as the audience are forced to stay focused on her for the entire exchange.

At the end of it all, Season 5 of Gotham is quite frankly, all over the place, and for me, its entertainment value and quality never ended up topping 'Ruin' or '13 Stitches.' Too many subplots that ended up receiving no payoff in the end each scrambled for control anyway over the season's narrative, costing the audience opportunities to see further developments of Bruce's transition into Batman, why Selina ended up choosing to not leave the city with Oswald, the strange attachment Nygma had with his question mark playing card, and a supposed allusion to a comic the showrunners couldn't reveal the title of at the time because it would be considered too much a 'spoiler.' It is dispiriting that this is the note Gotham goes out on for me because I will in fact miss many of these characters and all of this cast as it's been clear for a while that each of the actors have been making the effort to go 110% with what they're given to work with. My final thoughts shouldn't suggest either that this is the verdict by which I'm forced to remember this series by, au contraire, I'd instead prefer to look back on Gotham and judge it by the chapters it was able to execute wonderfully, among which include 'Penguin's Umbrella,' 'Welcome Back, Jim Gordon,' 'This Ball of Mud and Meanness,' 'Mad Grey Dawn,' 'The Gentle Art of Making Enemies,' 'How the Riddler Got His Name,' 'The Primal Riddle,' 'Pax Penguina,' 'That Old Corpse,' and 'Ruin.'

When I get right down to it in its entirety, the closing words to Grand Canyon just about sum it up; "I think it's not all bad."

Aaron Studer loves spending his time reading, writing and defending the existence of cryptids because they can’t do it themselves.

[forthemultiverse]

A Siblings Trust - Batsis!Reader

Requested by Carleyviolingirl28 :

So I was wondering if I could do a request for a middle sibling Batsis type of one shot where she is so focused on missions and school and her responsibilities that she neglects her health (like not eating or sleeping enough) and her brothers don’t notice until she passes out on a mission or something? And could you please include their reactions and what they would do to help her? Thanks!

I’m not sure I followed the request exactly how you wanted me to, sorry, but I hope you like it. This was requested on Quotev and was an interesting change for me; I hope I did Batsis justice since I’ve never written that before. Also, I’ve just started posting these stories over on Wattpad as well as Quotev so if any of you like reading fics on there, *awkward finger guns* I use ForTheMultiverse as my username on there too <3<3

Request are open in case anyone else is wandering :D

You heard the alarm going off the first time. That didn’t mean you were going to listen to it or get up. Not that you didn’t want to get up, you knew you had to, or else you’d end up being late to school, but you also figured that Alfred would eventually come and get you after noticing you hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. When you were late for school, you decided it was Tim’s fault. He’d told Alfred you’d gone in early because he genuinely thought you had. Apparently, it was a believable thing for you to do.

You just about scrambled through the hallway without being seen by anyone, arriving as the bell rang, signalling the end of the second period. If you could slip into the crowd, then no one would question the fact you’d just arrived.

“You look like a mess.” Tim mused, spotting you straight away. He was a few months younger than you, meaning you were in the same school year and most of the same classes. “I covered for you by the way.”

“Why’d you tell Alfred I would already be at school?”

“You’ve left without me almost every day this half term, and I’ve always found you in the library once I’ve got here!” he defended and you stopped walking. He was right. You’d been getting up at four thirty every morning. "See!” he took your stunned face as him being right, and you let him.

“What time do you usually get up?”

“Like six? I do casework for an hour then get ready.” There was a fifteen-minute break after the second period so he could quickly catch you up on everything you’d missed you’d missed. 

“I get up so much earlier than you.”

“You go to bed before me though.” That only made you feel worse. You had to get up early to work on cases because you knew Tim was smarter than you. He would figure everything out if you didn’t work harder. If Tim stayed up later than you, he was getting the same amount of sleep as you but doing so much better than you were. He wasn't oversleeping or accidentally ditching school. He was coping. 

“True…”

“Are you okay? You can go home, take the day off, I’ll get your work for you if you’re too tired?”

“I’m fine,”

“Fine?”

“Great.” Everyone knew that 'fine' never meant fine. 

“Promise?”

“If you’re okay, I’m okay.” you nodded, he was scanning you for weakness, and you weren’t going to let him find any. If he wasn’t oversleeping, neither were you. “Promise.”

“M’kay…” he handed over a few sheets of paper for you to start filling in. He was technically your brother, and you loved him like blood family, but you couldn't bring yourself to say that you needed help. Your family was all about survival, and that's what you were doing. 

Sadly, you couldn’t just zone out for the rest of the day to rest; you needed to help your youngest brother out. Damian didn’t like to ask for help, so you didn’t let him. You just saw Robin in trouble over lunch so disappeared from your friends to suit up. He’d probably be rude to you, but he was family, and you could see him struggling through the live video on your phone.

“What’s happening?” you asked through the comms

“White van has money in it, and the black van is shooting at me.”

“You get the money; I’ll distract.”

“I can do it on my own,” he growled as you appeared around the corner and swung from lamppost to lamppost. 

“You don’t have to though.”

You got yourself ahead of the black van. Jumping over incoming bullets to land on the front - terrifying the driver and stopping the fire for a moment as one of the gunmen clambered into the seat and tried to hit you. Damian took the help and disappeared into the shadows. Maybe you should have given Damian the harder job; he was fully awake while you were off your game. But he was your younger brother, whether he admitted it or not, and as an older sibling, it was your job to protect him. No matter how much slower you were moving, or how sloppy your attacks were - you needed to defend him. 

The bullet missed you because Damian was quick-footed, and watching your back from his takedown. You moved forward, onto the van roof. Tossing one Batarang into the glass and kicking a smoke bomb through the gap. The van swerved across the road, turning fast as it lost control. You tried to keep your balance, but your feet were sliding backwards as it hit the lamppost. The grip on your feet held you on the edge of the van, but bullets were flying everywhere. You ducked and kicked one of the guys as he stopped to rub his eyes. One down. The others weren't so stupid, managing to fire randomly, knowing they'd cause some kind of damage even if they didn't hit you, hoping they'd take a few civilians down before the police arrived. They wanted to make a point, and you couldn't think fast enough to stop them. The gunfire made your ears ring. The second Batarang left your hand, no real aim but managing to knock two guns to the floor before returning to your side - and you sent it straight into the smoke again. No clue what else todo

The smoke started to clear, and a stray bullet was a metre away from hitting you in the stomach. You froze. The first time you'd ever been entirely unable to move. You were tired and unprepared for the entire fight. Your brain raced over how you should have told Tim to go; you should have let Damian deal with this. You didn't need to be here. No one had called you into action. Your stupid sibling override was going to get you shot.

Something wrapped around your leg and pulled, slamming you into the broken van roof, and out of harm’s way.

“The Police have the money, let’s get out of here before you freeze again,” Damian snarled as he released your ankle. 

You both got onto a roof when he finally said something.

“You don’t look good.”

“Whatever, wannabe Bruce.”

“You look tired and old.”

“And why do you care?”

“I don’t!”

“Awe! Do you care about me really, Damian? Do you not like it when other people try to hurt me?” you spoke with a baby voice and grabbed his cheeks, “Is the baby growing up?”

“I’m not a baby.”

“You’re like eight, that’s a baby.”

“I’m eleven!” he yelled

“What’s that? Six?”

“Maybe you're not sloppy; maybe you’re just unskilled, wouldn’t surprise me.”

“I was trained by Batman.”

“And he obviously didn’t care enough to train you well.”

“Don’t make me hurt you,”

“You couldn’t if you tried, maybe I should’ve let you take the bullet to teach you a lesson. Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone move as slow as you were.”

“Screw off Dami.”

“Tssk!” he stormed off, and you jumped off the roof to return to school, knowing you’d missed the start of your next class and won’t be able to get into the classroom until it’s over. 

“Something is wrong with (Y/N)!” Damian announced as he walked into Dick’s apartment. Dick screamed a dropped his cereal bowl, not expecting anyone to come over that day. 

“Learn to knock!”

“You should always be ready for an attack.” Damian shrugged.

“Not on my day off!” He grabbed a shirt and tried to shuffle some of the sprawled clothes out of Damian’s view. He didn’t need to know Babs had only recently left. 

“You’re lifestyle has gone downhill.” Damian judged, “You are aware it’s midday, and you’re eating breakfast foods?”

“Cereal is for all times of the day.” Dick poured himself another bowl now his first one had gone on the floor, and joined his brother on the couch, “So, (Y/N)?”

“She overslept, her fighting was sloppy, she almost got shot, and something’s wrong.”

“And why do you care?” Dick felt pride in his chest, Damian did care about his siblings. “Are you warming up to the family?”

“No! I just don’t want her to ruin a mission!”

“Sure. If you’re concerned, why don’t you just talk to her?”

“She said I was eight and made fun of me.”

“She’s your sister, of course, she’s going to tease you, that’s sibling culture.”

“Then why am I told off for doing it?”

“Because you’re harsh and mean, she’s teasing in love; you can tell the difference by the tone of voice. You want to try talking to her again?” Damian scowled and shook his head. Talking to you again might make you think he cares, “So you want me to try?"

“You’re the oldest.”

“Go it.” Dick winked and waved him out of his apartment.

When Dick found you later that day, he was in civilian gear and offering to buy coffee. Tim had some club after school, so the two of you just drove to the nearest cafe. Dick was known to just randomly show up and do something he dubbed ‘Sibling Bonding’, so you didn’t think it was strange.

“How’s your day gone? Mine’s been good, I’ve had a day off, it’s always nice to have a day off and just catch up on sleep and stuff. It’s relaxing, don’t you think?”

That raised a red flag for you. Dick could be very subtle when he wanted to, but he was trying to cut to the chase without pissing you off.

“I’m fine, and I told Tim that, so if he sent you in, I appreciate the free coffee, but I’m honestly fine.”

“Tim didn’t send me, if Tim had sent me a message, I would have told him to trust you and been a whole lot more subtle.”

“Alfred?”

“I spoke to him, but only after Damian asked me to talk to you.”

“Damian?” you were shocked, the little monster was your annoying younger brother and a living nightmare. He may have saved you ass earlier, but you didn’t think him as the type to go to Dick worried about you. That was a you move. You looked out for your family.

“I’m your brother (Y/N), you can talk to me, and you can talk to him. If you just speak to him like an adult, he won’t be mean. He doesn’t try to be an asshole, and he does care really.”

“Very deep down.” you rolled your eyes.

“Very very deep down, but I’ve seen the nicer side.”

“I’m fine.”

“If Tim already to spoke to you, Damian came to me, and Alfred seems pretty concerned, I think that means you need to take a break.”

“Think about it yourself; someone was telling you that you’re tired, but who knows your body best?”

“I do.”

“Exactly, I know my body, I may look tired, but I’m not.”

“Oversleeping this morning?”

“I told Tim to wake me up! That was his sleep-deprived ass forgetting!” You lied a little. You didn’t want to admit you were weaker than your brothers. You all had the same schedule, you all worked hard, but you always felt like you were lagging behind. You could understand why Barbara had quit being Batgirl. It’s sad to realise you can’t actually help out as much as someone else. But you weren’t going to quit. You couldn’t. You’d be letting them all down, it would mean you’d wasted so much of your life to train for no reason. It would mean they were out there, risking their lives and you wouldn't be able to help them is they ended up in a dangerous situation. You’d drive yourself mad - staying up as late as you could while trying to maintain your grade average trying to solve cases and do homework and workout and keep up with Tim and stay ahead of Damian and not let Bruce down. You would be the first one out of bed each morning, first into costume if someone was needed on the field. You would work twice as hard as the boys, and you wouldn’t quit. You couldn’t let them see you as weaker than them, and you wouldn't let them be out there without you. Not a chance. 

“Okay, you do know your body, but if you have another bullet scare like today, I’m going to Bruce, and you’re taking at least a weak to rest.”

“Come on!”

“That’s nice, that’s me being a good big brother and trusting you.” You nodded, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he lifted his hand for a high-five “Family? What would you do if you were in my position?”

“Family.” you groaned and gave him the high-five, deliberately not answering the second question. You'd make sure siblings were okay; you'd make them rest. You wouldn't trust them the way Dick did.

You made it through the week, focusing on keeping your body going and not slipping up. You weren’t going to let Dick go to Bruce, and you weren’t going to take a day off. But everyone met for a change of patrol a week later, and you were sitting on the edge of the rooftop. You were rubbing your eyes and wishing you had coffee to wake you up. You hadn’t had time to grab anything to eat before heading out to meet everyone, and you were supposed to take over from Damian. You couldn’t let him stay out any later since he was still younger. You just hoped you could talk Dick into making a Fast food run or something.

“Who’s here?” Tim asked, landing last. 

“Everyone but you,” Damian smirked, and Tim stuck his tongue out.

“Up (Y/S/N), you and me can take West High Street, Red Robin and Spoiler, use Wayne Enterprises as your base, Orphan and Signal can use here, Robin’s been patrolling all afternoon so he can head home and rest, Batgirl will be joining us later.”

As you stood up, your head was light, all the blood rushing to it. Your vision went, and you felt yourself trip back. Luckily Cass caught you before you fell off the roof.

When you woke up, you were lying on your bed, Dick asleep in the chair by the door. As you moved, he shot awake. All of his nerves and senses awake.

“(Y/N)! Thank god you’re okay.”

“I was always fine.”

“You passed out from standing off; you nearly fell off the roof.”

“None of you would’ve let that happen.” You shrugged, trying to get out of bed. He jumped forward and held the duvet down.

“Cass caught you, and you are not getting up.”

“How long have I been out?”

“A few hours,”

“Then there’s still time to get out there and help.”

“Not a chance.”

“Cass caught me; I’m not hurt. I can patrol. I know I’m fine.”

“I trusted you last week. We all trusted you! You said you were fine last week. You aren’t leaving this bed for a day at least.”

“You can’t force me to stay here.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Let me out!”

“I’m your brother, and I trusted when you said you were fine and you almost fell off the roof because you stood up. There is no way you’re getting out of this bed. Tim trusted you, Damian trusted my judgement.”

You noticed something different in Dick’s face. He was tense, and he suddenly seemed a lot older than you usually thought of him as. He was your brother, one of you guys, you forgot that he’d been doing this superhero thing a lot longer than you. He’d been the first. Your lies had made him trust you, and you’d almost gotten hurt. His decision could have got you hurt. Your choices made him feel guilty, which made you feel guilty - which of course you deserved to feel.

“Dick…” you whispered, “I was just doing what you all do. You all stay up as late, work hard, I’m just working harder to try and keep up. Trying to protect the others...”

“You don’t have to be me! You actually have the joy of not being me, the only one, the first Robin. There are so many of us that we always have someone spare for patrol. You could’ve just taken the night off.”

“But what if you all realised you didn’t need me at all!”

“You're our sister, blood or not; we’re always going to need you, mask on or off.”

“Wait, you’re trying to keep up?” Tim pushed the door open; he’d been eavesdropping the entire time.

“See! He now thinks lower of me!”

“I don’t think you’re less!” Tim shook his head and rushed towards the bed. He’d just finished patrol. “I want you to be healthy. I’m not healthy, that’s why I noticed. I set six alarms to make sure I wake up in the morning, one of them makes me coffee, so I don’t even have to move without caffeine in my system. I didn’t want you to be like me.”

“You’re the younger one, I should be setting the example,” you complained, flopping into your pillow. 

“This is my fault.” He muttered, “If I wasn’t always trying to prove myself and be as good as you…” he was freaking out and ran out of the room, coming back in a few minutes with one of his coffee alarm clocks.

“No, Tim.” Dick made him take it from you, even though you clapped your hands and tried to grab it. “She needs rest, not a way to stay awake. Actually no, I’m taking that. You need sleep too, both of you are on bed rest until further notice.” 

“Coming from you, you don’t sleep either!” You pointed out as Dick disappeared to take Tim’s coffee supply away. 

“Yeah, because I got into the habit and adapted at a young age. I was the only one, remember.”

“I know, you said it like five seconds ago.” Dick snorted at your comment, and that made you feel better. “The extended families so big by now that no one should ever end up like this again.”

There was a long pause in the conversation as all three of you thought about that. From Kate to Duke to Carrie and Harper and the Fox Family. There was an awful lot of people running around Gotham nowadays. You had been so concerned about making sure Damian wasn’t going to get hurt that you’d almost been shot, you’d been so concerned about making sure you weren’t left behind whilst your brothers were in danger that you nearly fell off a roof. Damian had gone to Dick, which meant he was looking out for you - just in his own socially inept way. 

“How does it feel to have started all of this?” You asked.

“If it's the reason you guys are collapsing, I'm not very proud…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, but as your brother, you should be able to tell me the stuff you can’t tell Bruce, you can admit you’re tired or need a break, or trying to balance too much. Siblings support each other. We're a family, so we help each other - whether that's by making you sleep, or pushing you away from gunfire, none of us have to do this alone anymore.”

“Where’s Jason at right now?” you asked out of interest.

“He came back to help cover patrol for a bit so we can all have a break, he’s joining us tomorrow night.”

“Seriously?” you sat up straighter. It was going to be the first time in a long while that all your brothers were in the same house. 

“(Y/N)?” Damian opened the door carrying a bowl of popcorn, “I could hear all the noise through the rest of the house so thought you might like some popcorn.”

“Thank you?” You took the bowl from him, and he disappeared quicker than he had appeared. He really didn’t know how to handle being a brother and you immediately wanted to mother him. 

“Told you he cared.” Dick smiled, grabbing Tim as he tried to sneak out.

“You’re benched too.”

“Not fair.”

“Not making the same mistake twice.” Dick mused, taking a fistful of popcorn, “Disney movies all day tomorrow? I’m taking the day off, follow my example?”

“You’re the oldest, so I guess,” you said, smiling and trying to sound as irritated as possible. Dick was doing what you would do, but with the heart, only he could have. All of your family had their way to show they cared, yours was working yourself senseless to protect them, but if they were taking tomorrow off too...you could rest. Everyone could relax.