#I think that is something I have a bone to pick about Gotham Knights

[definitelynotindecisive]

@disniq's tags

Gotta say, straight up, I am just not interested in any story about Jason Todd learning A Very Special Lesson that “Killing people is wRoOoOoOoNg.”

Nerp, sorry, no thank you, that doesn’t read as character growth to me, it reads as corny ass horse shit.

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of it - a Visitor

Character: Jason Todd x civilian! Fem!oc

Rating and Warnings: T, violence, swearing.

Word Count: 1968

Summary: A Jason from a different timeline appears in Andy's house. He has the letter 'J' branded on his face.

Masterlist

------

Sometimes it hit Andy that her best friend was an on-again off-again crime lord and an unrepentant killer.

She had a tumultuous relationship with crime herself. She was a felon after all, even if she contested her guilt, it wasn’t a label that came off. Any neat little ideas she was raised with about good people and bad people had been blasted off by the pressure washer of life. 

Sometimes when Jason did something particularly adorable, which was alarmingly frequent, she remembered the new cellmate she got halfway through her sentence. She was in on nonviolent charges but nobody was fooled, she had turned herself in just to get off the streets. That new Red Hood guy had a bone to pick with her. 

The woman stared up at the guard towers in the yard on her first day and asked why there weren’t any spotlights facing outside the prison. She would wake up with a start and stare at through the bars in terror. Every shadow was suspicious. And she wasn’t the only one. Andy, a bookish nineteen year old afraid of making prolonged eye contact, found herself one of few inmates not afraid of the dark.

Really, only the sex workers weren’t afraid of Gotham’s latest nightmare. And wasn’t that bizarre?

Andy once saw Jason cut a radish into a perfect tiny little teddy bear to place atop a bowl of tonkatsu curry, purely because the recipe’s photo included a radish teddy bear and like hell was he going to miss out. This was the man her remorseless murderer cellmate cowered from. Gave up her freedom to escape.

There was that one rumour about a duffel bag of heads. Her cellmate never shut up about it. Andy dismissed it as the invention of terrified thugs with nothing to do on long stints of guard duty.

Having met Jason’s dramatic side, she was pretty sure she owed Cheesewire Wendy an apology.

She still struggled to picture it though. She understood Jason was capable of incredible violence. Intellectually, it was very scary. In practice… in practice she never felt safer than when he was around. Even in the helmet, he flustered her, but she wasn’t afraid of him.

Then she met the Arkham Knight. 

She was on her way home in broad daylight, walking down the corridor of her apartment complex, when she saw a bright strobing light under her own front door. A bizarre sound that made her ears pop rang out and then died at the same time as the light. She frowned, balancing her groceries to rifle through her handbag for her keys, and unlocked the door. 

“Jason, what are you-” She froze. 

She didn’t recognise the man standing in her living room. No, she did recognise him, right down to the way he pointed his gun at her face. He had a ‘J’ branded onto his cheek. In his other hand he loosely held the white and black civilian leather jacket Jason had left here last weekend. 

Andy put her hands up and didn’t move. Her groceries fell to the floor and loose tomatoes and a tin of coconut cream rolled across the hard wood. 

“Shut the door.”

She did as she was told then put her hands back up again. 

He looked at her through cold blue eyes, assessing. He was in military style armour, to her inexperienced eyes, with hard metal plates all over the upper body. A blue and black high tech looking helmet sat high up on his head. He had more weapons on him than she could count.

He had Jason’s face, but not his build, he was shorter, slighter, with pinched features, and there was something hunched about the way he held his upper body.  There was no bat on his chest. 

“You know me.” His voice was unmistakable. 

“I… I don’t know if I do.” 

His lips pursed and he lowered the gun. She didn’t think that was permission to lower her hands. 

“You know the me from this world.” He dropped the jacket on the back of her wheelie chair and cast his eyes over her apartment. Jason’s presence in her life had changed it, sure, but only in small ways. Surely that wasn’t enough to tell him anything? 

What he meant about ‘this world’ was too mad to be true. She stared into blue eyes that had been green for as long as she had known them. He didn’t recognise her. He recognised Jason’s coat. He had a fucking ‘J’ branded onto his face. It was too weird to question when there was a strange man with a gun in her house. 

“Don’t try to deny it. Did he retire from being the perfect and loyal little soldier?” He stalked towards her. “Pretend Gotham is fixed, that he can relax? That he’s safe?” 

“I- I don’t-” she shook her head desperately. “Jason isn’t a soldier. I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

Maybe he was Jason Todd from another world. But he wasn’t the Red Hood. She had only ever made Jason one promise, and that was to never tell anyone his secret, not even people who already seemed to know. 

He stopped about a foot away from her and glared. Being smaller than her Jason didn’t make him any less terrifying. She blinked frantically, trying to clear the unshed tears of terror from her eyes. She couldn’t go to pieces now, she couldn’t.

After a long moment he scoffed. He stepped back. IF anything he looked kind of put out. She let her hands fall. They were shaking. 

“Can I pick up my things?” she asked.

He grunted. She took it as a yes and crouched down to start rounding up fruit and vegetables. He moved to go look out the windows. She snuck her phone from her pocket, lowered the volume to nothing, and quick-dialled Jason. She put it in the paper grocery bag and put the whole thing on the dining table. 

She cleared her throat and gathered her courage. “What do you want from Jason?” 

He looked at her sidelong. His hands rested lightly on the guns in his thigh holsters. 

“What do you want from me?” she asked. It came out as a rasping whisper. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Andrea.”

“What could I possibly want from you, Andrea?”

“I don’t know. You’re in my apartment. I assumed… for a reason?”

“I can tell you what you should have assumed: that the rest of your life is directly tied to whether or not you piss me off. By, say, calling someone.”

She froze. 

He crossed the room, leisurely, like some prowling creature, and reached over her to grab her phone out of the bag. 

She glimpsed the glowing screen. The green phone symbol for an active call floated over the contact name: ‘Still Has my Casserole Dish’, then the call duration of four minutes and counting. 

The intruder glanced at it, unimpressed. “You can keep the casserole dish,” he said, and ended the call. 

He unclipped one of his guns. 

The windows exploded in a blast of blinding light. 

She didn’t know what happened next, only the sounds of a scuffle, a gun fired twice, and she caught sight of yellow light armour blurring in her compromised vision, before she was standing behind the Signal. 

“Who the hell are you?” the intruder growled, as his helmet snapped down over his face. It’s face lit up with LEDs. 

Signal cocked his head and the LEDs immediately died again half a second before darkness flooded the whole room. The Signal grabbed her and hauled her out the window. 

They were swinging through the air before she fully processed what happened. 

A couple of gunshots followed them, and then silence. 

She looked back, as they stumbled onto a roof.

“Keep going,” Signal said, and pulled her forwards to swing across to a building not in line of sight of her apartment. 

They landed on the bare roof of an abandoned motel. There was no sound of pursuit. It set dread in her stomach. 

What kind of Jason Todd let his target go so easily? Signal looked around, not letting her get too far from him.  

“I don’t know who you’re supposed to be,” an all too familiar voice drawled from above. “Out in the daylight with your meta abilities, but all bats are the same at the end of the day. Predictable.” 

They spun and looked up. Standing perched on the edge of the neighbouring office building was their pursuer. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder. 

Signal stepped in front of Andy and spread his arms. 

A shot rang out, and the foreign Jason staggered forward with a burst of blood. He was hauled backwards before he could fall. Red Hood hit him in the gut.

“Time to get out of here,” Signal said. 

She couldn’t tear her eyes from the sight of the two fighting, what little she could see from this angle at last. 

“We are not hanging around to see the show, lady, they are both shooting live rounds.”

That shook her enough to let him pull her away and swing down to an empty alleyway several blocks away. Andy was beside herself with worry, but Signal wouldn’t let her panic. There were other allies closing in on their location apparently. 

Signal checked her for injuries and made her drink half a bottle of water. A Narrows accent was sneaking its way through the gaps in his suspiciously generic Gotham accent. It was calming. 

“What’s your name?” he asked. 

“Andy. Um. Andrea. But call me Andy.”

“Ha, take that Nightwing.” 

She blinked a couple of times. “What?”

“Hood talks about you all the time. Never says your name though.” He shrugged. “We were curious.” 

“Curious about what?” She asked, both her eyebrows rising. She had to be the least interesting person any of them knew. 

Signal just smiled and shrugged again. She got the feeling she was on the outskirts of some in-joke. 

Before she could chase it up, Red Hood landed heavily on the pavement at the alley’s opening. He was alone.

He stalked towards her, radiating fury and danger. The shaking, panicky thing inside of her chest calmed. He didn’t stop advancing until he was looming over her. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked. The voice modulator did a bad job disguising how upset he was. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, her eyes narrowed in on the cracks over the front of his helmet. Blood was smeared over his side. “Are you-”

“It’s not mine.” 

“And the other guy?” Signal asked. 

“Back to his own universe, I think. He disappeared mid-fight. O’s keeping an eye out in case we have any more visitors.”

Signal nodded. “That’s my cue then. Nice meeting you, Andy!” 

He shot his grapple gun and disappeared into the blinding afternoon light. 

Red Hood let out a shaky breath. He took off his helmet to reveal a domino mask underneath. He ran a hand through his loose curls. 

“You have to be more careful,” he said. “He was going to kill you.”

“He was just in my house, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Calling me was the right thing, but if Signal wasn’t in the area… I wouldn’t have made it in time.”

She sucked in a shaky breath and let it out again. She grabbed his arm just to steady herself.

He pulled her closer and hugged her tight. He leaned his forehead against hers. 

“Alternate you is a real asshole.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

She scoffed. “You called in the cavalry, you saved the day, you don’t get to be sorry.”

“Maybe.” He cupped the back of her head. She felt safe. “I’m going to teach you how to handle yourself in a situation.”

“I don’t want to be in any situations,” she groused, hiding her head in his jacket. Oh, it was sticky. Gross.

“You’re always getting into a situation.”

She sighed.

Next>>

[iphoenixrising]

DickTim Week 2021: Day 5 Winged!Talon Tim au

So. another dual prompt and I really regret nothing about this one tbh. I took tomorrow’s Talon and today’s Wings and made a Winged!Talon!Tim fic. Of course, I talked to the wonderful babes on Capes & Coffee about a what if combination and this just, whew. Careful, it might break your heart a little, but damn if it isn’t an interesting idea.

Not beta read, so don't be a hater :D

Previous Talon!Tim universe posts: The initial idea, Babe and I talking it out, Talon Training Ask, Ra’s vs the Court, Talon and Ra’s, Talon and Ra’s take 2, Talon and Shiva short.

**

Watching B take on the new and improved Talon is really the entertainment of the year.

Once upon a time it had taken all of them plus more to take down as much of the Court of Owls as humanly possible. Of course, like rats, the Bats knew there would be no way to get the entire Court or all the Talons, not when the upper echelons of Gotham had spent the better part of 200 years creating, storing, training, and obtaining more.

Politicians were investigated, corrupt cops removed, and criminals burrowed underground once word of what the capes did to save the day got passed around.

For the first time in years, crime in Gotham was at an all time low.

But, as the coin flip dictates, nothing good lasts forever. Trouble is always brewing below the surface to eventually rise to the top and try to take over.

Case in point:

The Bats of Gotham have come up against a new threat wearing the signature Talon armor, and the call goes out to all available capes for help taking on the undead mercenary before another crime family ends up in the Obituaries rather than Blackgate.

The fact the Court is still up and running after the Batfamily took them down in a fiery blaze that ended with all their Talons gone, Sensei exposed, and most the ruling families imprisoned or poisoned by Lincoln March, is like a kick to the abdomen after they closed that particular book. Worse, with a new Talon soldier is sighted running around Gotham, another circus kid has been kidnapped and turned into the right hand of the Court of Owls. Dick, with his absolute survivors guilt, is the one to make going after the Talon and whoever is still behind the scenes a top priority.

Which is how they find themselves in the middle of Knight’s Stadium facing down a Talon that is too short to be March. Red Hood, Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl, and Black Bat pretty much got their asses handed to them in the first twelve minutes. Pretty hard to understand until you take into account the new and improved Talon facing them now is terrifying in a completely different way than most undead assassins are.

He knows them.

He knows them in ways that lets him fight fast and furious with vicious accuracy, striking at weaknesses few of the vigilantes of Gotham realized they even had.

He isn't as big as Lincoln or even Cobb, not nearly as old. He hasn't been kept in cryostasis waiting for the next generation to need his skills. He doesn't have creaks in his joints from being put on deep freeze too many times.

This one is silent and efficient, obviously trained in multiple types of martial arts, is highly proficient with or without the standard Talon knives, is a master tactician, counters the majority of their moves with alarming consistency–

and the fucking Talon has wings.

Honest-to-God wings.

Everyone had assumed the metal monstrosities on his back were weapons of some kind, but the glint of steel in the streetlight flash a warning before the lumps moved in an arch, extending far out past his shoulder blades, slicing into Red Hood’s body suit with a razor-sharp edge, shredding the armor like paper.

It’s not enough he’s got weapons obviously made specifically for his skill set, it’s not enough he’s an assassin and doesn’t hold to the same standards of non-lethal combat, it’s not enough that he can use his wings to fly or to fight like he’s using another limb to kick the shit out of them, and it’s not enough that he effortlessly counters so many of their attacks that he has to have some kind of inside information on all of them and their fighting styles.

The knives are definitely a thing when the Talon can throw them hard enough to penetrate parts of their suits in between armored plating, which further drives the theory that this is a person they’ve dealt with before. Intimately. Few people in the world know how their suits are made. Even more, few people know particulars enough when their suits are constantly reconstructed.

The only thing on their side that tipped the scales in their favor–

–the Batman.

The wings threw him off his game, obviously, but not enough to stop B from holding his own with swift and merciless force.

It's like watching a dance of fast and furious fists, blades in Talon's hands glinting deadly in the night, finding B's suit over and over and over until he's made it to blood and bone. He takes every hit the Batman can dish out, head snapping back, left, and right with the volley of jaw-breaking blows and bone-shattering kicks.

None of it gives the Talon pause. When a move makes him drop a blade, another is already in hand, cutting into their body suits, wings flipping out to defend or distract, sweeping moves and well coordinated attacks.

The unnatural appendages are like another arm, another leg, an extension working on the same central nervous system, regardless as to how the Court managed to make it happen.

A jump kick off a trash can is a lucky shot as a wing catches B in the ribs hard enough to knock him into the wall of Mike's Famous Hotdogs. The only thing saving the Dark Knight from a concussion or permanent brain damage is the plating in his cowl.

It gives the Talon enough time to make a final bid for a battered Nightwing, Red Hood, and Robin struggling to their feet again, eyes for their fallen mentor.

Before he can lunge forward to start the attack yet again, the Talon just stops, pauses like he’s stuck or something, and in the span of a breath, both wings extend fully, flap powerfully once to propel him up into the Gotham night.

O tries her best to track his flight through the city, but no one’s arms are working well enough to toss a tracker on him.

She loses him over Cape Carmine, slams her palms against her system in frustration, makes sure she gets as much footage from the confrontation as possible.

After some sleep and a whole lot of bandages and ice packs, the Bat family meets in the Cave to watch the footage, breakdown the Talon’s fighting style, his weaponry, and make theories on his identity.

O helps out with readings she has of electronic pulses she managed to capture coming from the armor over his wings. She thinks she might be able to use it to track him if they can get close enough for her equipment to ping the signal again.

B makes a trip to Arkham since Freeze apparently hasn’t stopped producing the formula used to put Talons in cryostasis.

It’s not until Gotham’s power grid has a massive surge that O and the Bats can pinpoint a possible location, all of them invested in one hell of a fight to get the last rats still scurrying in the underground.

The plan of attack comes together smoothly once they’ve scoped out the location, seen the shady activity, and together, they make one hell of a plan.

**

And because, you know, Gotham, it is completely normal for the Court of Owl's headquarters to have a skylight.

Natch.

For this one, they've got Batgirl and Black Bat, Red Hood and Robin, Nightwing and B, a real family affair.

O's quiet voice over comms leading them through the maze of traps and empty rooms, abandoned libraries and spooky ball rooms. The laboratory isn't the most horrific they've all ever seen (because the Joker's summer place is literally the stuff of nightmares), but a few of them do gag on the smell alone.

The plan, however, goes horribly awry when the clear sounds of tormented screaming echoes from right under their reinforced bootheels.

Black Bat's fists clench hard, her breathing wheezes out when the tone, the utter agony goes right through her.

A shudder slides up Robin's spine as all of them turn toward the noise.

Without a flicker or a word, the Batman moves, strafing in the shadows toward the sound. He can't assume it's an innocent civilian with something the Court wants, but he's betting on the fact that scream will lead them to whoever is running the show.

The medieval room has bars and reinforced locks, implements hanging on the wall. The cement brick is stained rust colored with old blood, the vestiges of training, and the awful realization they've found another hidden niche in the city that always existed right under their noses is punctuated with the abrupt drop in temperature, with the sudden charge in the air, with the zzzzcrack snapping beyond the door, replaced with a muted buzzing Robin can feel in his back teeth.

B is already on his way to the roof, Batgirl down through the floor vent while Nightwing picks the locks with fast precision, knocking the tumblers around.

Robin and Red Hood stay close to the reinforced door, balancing on the balls of their feet, katana and .45s at the ready.

Black Bat takes the high road, ceiling tiles giving way under her Bat-a-rang. She gives a sharp nod before she's up and gone.

"All right. Ready?" Nightwing stands, cracks his neck, flips his escrimas in both hands, works his shoulders to prepare for the strain of each blow he plans to give.

"Ya betcha ass," Hood murmurs low, a cut figure with both guns at his sides, gloved fingers on the trigger guard.

"Don't disappoint," Robin snarls, "either of you."

"Nice pep talk, squirt," Nightwing snickers.

"Tt, back up your mouth with action."

"Better shuddap, Demon. Golden Boy ain't fuckin' 'round. Neither is the Bat. We get one more chance a' this asshole. We ain't gonna blow it again, ya feel me?"

"Finally, something we agree on, Hood."

"Other than N's shitty mullet?"

Nightwing swiftly glares at them both over his shoulder, unconsciously putting himself front and center of the trio, ready to be the first in once they get the signal.

– which is the sound of the glass raining down from the heavens.

Three booted feet kick the door hard enough to take it off the hinges, lying against the faded stains like a fallen body.

First step in the room is the complete opposite to what they'd all been expecting.

The two Owl masks aren't the usual, but a perversion of the originals, crudely drawn yawning mouths complete with fangs dripping blood.

But.

The boy on his knees, arms in a binder holding the appendages hostage at a painful angle, is dripping the real thing. Rivulets down his chest and where his back is partially visible. Some from the base of the wings going into the back of his shoulder blades where the skin is torn and raw.

The bar gag shoved in his mouth doesn't take away from the splatters on his chin, the bruising on his face, the swollen eye. But it's his wings that makes the Bats falter from the initial rushing attack.

His wings are without the armor, are bound straight up above his restrained body with hooks grotesquely puncturing through the downy softness, desecrating the beauty with blood and gore. The angle makes the pull to his back where the wings are part of him just another agony on top of atrocity.

"Fuck," from the first Owl mask, and a swift move frees the Talon's bound arms, the appendages flopping uselessly to the floor, only his trapped, tortured wings keeping him up on his knees.

The second Owl shoves the first back, "let him take care of them. Let's get out of here!"

The first Owl snarls out something low and foreign, the phrases rolling off his tongue.

The words lock into place, and the Talon's head snaps up, snarling around the gag in his mouth.

When his face is finally, finally visible, the protectors of Gotham are frozen in their tracks.

Familiar violet-blue eyes, too-long blue-black hair, cut jawline and pointed nose. Tiny scar on his right cheek from the time he caught Ra's al Ghul's ring across the face.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," is barely heard through the Red Hood's synths and in no way fully expresses his utter horror at what these dirty motherfuckers have done.

Robin wretches, bile burning the back of his throat once those eyes swing up to the masked parody of the Owls and his bare upper body is visible through the blood and sweat on his chest, when the scars peeking through on his collar bones form a half-visible Y-incision, when the coloring of the bared wings now makes sense (robin's wings, Damian Wayne thinks with his heart beating pitter patter fast, and his stomach in knots, they put robin's wings on him...).

And the hurt, agonized noise coming out of Nightwing's chest is the only noise he can make when those dimmed, dazed eyes swing from the Owls back to the vigilantes frozen in their spots, when there's no spark of joy or fondness or stubbornness he's so used to seeing staring him down.

The errant thought, the first instinct, is the only humane way to deal with this new Talon is to put him down for good wars with the man behind the mask that only wants to reach out, wants to pull the Talon into his body and curve over, to scream at the injustice of it all, to rail at himself for not even suspecting.

Another switch flipped and the hooks release his wings, blood splattering on top the old stains.

"Get them! Don't fuck it up this time or you won't get another chance," the second Owl shoves the Talon's injured shoulder in the direction of the horrified vigilantes.

They don't even bother to take the gag out of his mouth before setting him on his target.

A flap of wings, and the Talon is on his feet again, swaying only slightly. He's in the boots and pants from earlier, the rest of his uniform tossed carelessly behind him by his tormentors. A sweep of his feet and the knives glint in bare palms, a whisper of a sound.

The curved, clawed blade glints in the overhead light when the Talon raises it and cuts the strap of the bar gag in his bloody mouth, turns his head to spit it out without looking away from the vigilantes.

The Batman, grim and stoic in the face of this surprising turn of events, gives the barest nod. From her hiding spot behind the complex machinery, Black Bat takes off after the running Owl members, leaving the rest of the family to deal with their former third Robin.

The wings flinchingly flare out and their former bird hunches over, ready for the attack.

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait,” the Red Hood removes the helmet, leaves the domino underneath. He keeps one hand out in peace, slowly dipping down to put his helmet on the ground. “Is us, Tim. Timmy. Baby Bird. Is us. Yer family. Gotta lookit us, yeah?”

For the first time, the Talon speaks, “who’s Tim?”

And then he lunges.

**

The fight happens very differently this time.

The former power behind the punches is obviously dulled with the Talon’s identity reveal. He doesn’t hold back, is utterly ruthless with his attacks. He takes out B’s right knee, puts Hood down on the stained floor, knocks Robin into the wall with crushing force, and slams Batgirl’s head off the operating table.

He stands over Nightwing, wicked blade in hand and robin’s wings spread wide. He takes a knee, the sharp edge right above N’s adam’s apple, staring down impassively into the whiteouts.

“Timmy,” N spits blood, grunting when one knee pins his arm down. “Timmy, please. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I love you and I’m sorry they did this to you.”

Those eyes don’t change in the slightest. “You should not have tried to oppose the Owls.”

“We beat them once,” Nightwing gasps, “and you helped us, Baby Bird. You were with us then, don’t you remember.”

“I was nothing before the Court perfected me,” the Talon replies emotionlessly.

“You were perfect before they ever touched you.”

“No,” and the Talon leans down, puts them a breath away. “The only thing you and those others do is put the criminals back in prison, back in Arkham for them to escape again, for them to kill and destroy over and over again. Like this, I can stop them permanently.”

“Oh Timmy,” and behind the whiteouts, Nightwing’s eyes spill over, his vision wavery. “Timmy–”

“Don’t call me that. Stop calling me that.”

“You know me, you know us. You have to remember–”

“Lies. All of it lies!”

Nightwing’s chest stutters, his fist clenching, “it’s not. None of it is. Not even this–”

And he’s fast enough to grab the back of the Talon’s neck, to lean up enough against the blade pressed against his throat, can bring their mouths together, can kiss him like he’s dying and the Talon is the only thing that can save him.

It’s sloppy and awkward because the Talon doesn’t know what’s happening, gasps against the vigilante’s mouth. The tongue sliding over his, the muffled moan in his mouth sparks something in the back of his brain where the Court of Owls could never touch.

When Nightwing pulls back, stares up at wide violet-blue eyes, when the blade falls away to clatter against the block, when the Talon’s mouth trembles and tears fill his eyes, when his wings flutter and falter, fold in on them both, when his voice goes hoarse with, “D-Dick?” Nightwing throws both arms around his waist and holds on.

[somanyfanficssolittletime]

I feel that their spawn point would be related to the tether, the tether is part of Gotham, but where In Gotham is it part of?

in our (or at least mine) minds the longer something is in a specific spot, the more it becomes “it’s proper spot” have you ever put a picture on your wall, and after about a few months or so, you can’t remember what the wall looks like without them? That it just looks right? I think it’s like that for the tethers,

whatever Gotham thinks is the proper spot, that’s where they will appear when the rid themselves of the tethers.

this means that the longer something is in the same spot, the more chance there is for the bats to spawn there, but as Gotham in old, there have been many “proper” places for almost everything, from the dirt, to the rocks, to the old bark, to the old metal.

but how does something become apart of Gotham, is it like new picture? Where it takes some time to become one with its surrounding space? How long would it take, as you’ve said, Gotham is possessive, and it doesn’t believe those not of Gotham belong for long, the evil that dose not belong, that come to Gotham without her guards knowing, face a bout of bad luck till they leave, those like Ra’s have much worse luck. All this to say, gotham is possessive, she doesn’t like new things not belonging to her,

so when do those things become hers? As once again Gotham is an old city, I believe it would be a long time, a decade to century, those of pure evil and hurt will never fully belong in their lifespan, only once the jokers dead body has decomposed and all is left are his bones will he truly belong, his story remains part of her knights story, a mere side character, but just as her knight belongs, his story belongs too. All parts, no matter how cruel, how evil, how wrong, how mislead, every little bit will be claimed by Gotham.

things can move a lot in a century, they can be blown by wind, kicked by feet, shifted by rain, split by storms, drowned by lakes, so whe would be the tethers true place? The place it was when it was first claimed? The place it was the longest? The place it was when picked up? Only Gotham knows.

Gotham loves her bats, she doesn’t want to let them go, she doesn’t want to let anything that’s hers go, but her bats need to leave. So they will bring her with them.

she will always love what’s hers, it just so happens that the bats are her favourite.

Batman AU where the batfam is an extension of Gotham’s will so they can’t leave the city without taking a piece of it with them

Bruce, ever practical, has a batarang made from a steel piece off the bat signal (not that he’d be able to throw it but it’s a backup nonetheless)

Dick, Jay, and Tim have made it Robin tradition to carry pebbles in their pockets (the justice league has come to associate the soft jingling of rocks with the arrival of the Dark Knight)

Steph finds pretty rocks and quartz to crack open and share with Cassandra- and they cycle through their newest finds (cass does keep a shiny piece of obsidian in her utility belt, it was the first one Steph gave her)

Duke keeps a corner from a road sign in his pouch, the reflective yellow paint matches his theme- (what better representation of the city than perpetual construction)

Damian reverently carries a piece of deep green sea glass from the harbor. The color reminds him of his mother, and he finds the beauty fitting. (The irony that the only way for him to leave his new home is an echo of the reason he’s there in the first place is not lost on him.)

[nuclidic]

Given that a lot of us are stuck inside with all this COVID-19 stuff, do you have any good TimKon fic recommendations to keep us more happily occupied?

Haha yes! I have this list from years ago but it is way past time for an update.

Disclaimer: these are just things I like, please heed all tags and warnings etc. I'm also not reccing any WIPs because unfinished fics kill me every time.

Crystal Clear by Merit andAnd I'll Tell You No Lies by caecily

Two short takes on soulmate tropes that have to go first because I love them so much, I love soulmate aus, Tim and Kon are soulmates, the end.

Where There's a Wish by LeeayreBeing Robin’s vessel is hard enough: the exhaustion, the life-threatening late night activities, the bruises and bullet holes and broken bones. Trying to hide all that from his incredibly suspicious, incredibly hot new roommate while maintaining his studies and placating his parents? Tim has never had it so hard. Especially since said roommate doesn’t actually know he’s Superboy.

So the setup for this is unusual, I'm not sure if it's based on anything but: superhero identities are Personas, independent (basically magical) personalities created by the wishes of a person or groups of people who act through hosts that have the will to manifest whatever that persona does. Basically: Robin is an independent persona, Tim shares his body with him and when Robin manifests the costume and all the gadgets appear. It's explained throughout the story, but just in case you start it and are like wtf is happening. This possibly should go in the thirds section because the actual pairings in this are: Robin/Tim, Red Robin/Tim, Tim/Kon, Red Robin/Tim/Kon, Red Robin/Superboy, and Red Robin/Superboy/Tim. Red Robin can also be kind of dubconny so watch out for that if it's a concern.

Wing Beats in Reverse by firefrightJason Todd is the third Robin, not the second, growing up in shadow of Tim Drake's death. Despite this, he still manages to form strong bonds with his new family. Especially Damian, who wishes to atone for his past mistakes with Jason's predecessor. But when he's fifteen, a mysterious red hooded figure kidnaps Jason from the rooftops of Gotham, and after that his life will never be the same again.

A Robin reversal AU (ie Damian is the eldest, Dick the youngest) that's Jason-centric but of course that doesn't lessen the Tim angst. Or the Kon angst when he finds out Tim is alive. Hopeful ending, but it doesn't fix everything.Other pairings: JayRoy, StephCass (barely)

Time Flies by by LaroyenaJon Kent is Superboy. Tim's gut instinct tells him that's wrong.(Timkon fix-it where reboot!Tim misses Kon like a phantom limb. And then he gets him back.)

Sometimes you just need to cry over the lack of Kon in your life and this fic provides the PERFECT excuse. Heartbreaking and then happy. (Also brings Colin back UNLIKE DC.)Other pairings: implied Clex

Not Completely Powerless After All by ChimaeraKittenNobody was quite prepared for the kid who runs the company to visit, but they manage, in fact, they might be pleasantly surprised; they weren't expecting him to be nice. Of course, they weren't expecting him to be a possible ninja either, but you gotta take the good with the bad.

Outsider POV!!! I have never watched Powerless so you definitely don't need to be familiar with it, this is just a glorious casefic told by someone who doesn’t know it’s a case.

Matters of the Heart by DMWith Clark off-world as an ambassador to Earth, Conner has to watch over Metropolis. Though it should be straightforward, there appears to be something amiss with seemingly random crimes happening around the city. Conner has a hunch that they’re connected and calls in his best friend to help. But as the two of them spend time together working the case, Conner realizes that his feelings for Tim might not be what he had thought.

A long casefic with feelings, basically everything I ever want.

Stumbling Home by bewaretheboojumIn his mid-twenties, Tim moves back to Gotham City after several years living abroad. He's feeling adrift, unfocused and a little off balance as he tries to re-establish a life in his home town.Kon is a fireman by day and superhero by night. When mysterious fires start cropping up in Metropolis, all signs point to arson. Who better to help him get to the bottom of this arson case than Tim? And really, it seems like Tim could use the distraction...

Another casefic with older TimKon. I didn't like the initial setup with Tim having abandoned his friends for years but it won me over in the end.

the honesty in your body by LaroyenaLuthor's tech saved Kon's life at the cost of his mind. Tim must take a feral Kon across space to restore his humanity... which is just as difficult as one may think.(Batman Omegaverse AU: unabashed TimKon porn detailing their original get-together in their early teens to their definite get-together in their late teens. But mostly porn.)

Yep, this is mostly omegaverse porn and it's excellent and I love it, I really don't know what else to tell you.Other pairings: BruDick

I'm Alone Here, I Think by unluckylokiSuperboy is fighting robots in San Francisco and remembers something that wasn't.There's a new priest in the Naxos temple appointed by Dream of the Endless.Kon is missing something. Tim is missing everything.One day Krypto practically drags Superboy to a remote island in Europe and there's a dark haired guy smiling at Kon like he knows him.Maybe he does.

Sandman crossover but I haven't read Sandman in 500 years so you don't need to know most of it. Kind of identity porn, but more...fraught. Excellent Tim angst (there...might be a pattern here) and I'll be honest I'm not very into all the witches and stuff but overall very enjoyable.

Nowhere But Forward by MishaBerryIt shouldn't have happened the way it did.When Kon finds Tim in Paris, it leads to a night that neither of them will ever forget, for better or for worse. Tim is then forced to confront something he's been denying about himself for a very long time, and Kon begins to question some things about himself. The road ahead is full of twists and turns, but there's nowhere to go but forward.

I really love long fics, but tbh I found this started to drag a little towards the end. I still enjoy it overall with delicious Tim angst.

Plus One SectionSometimes when pickings are slim we can try food we wouldn't normally eat, and sometimes it's delicious. Which is to say these are fics with Tim/Kon/Another Person. Don't go any further if this upsets your OTP soul, I completely understand.

TimKonBartTroika by glitterandlubeThis is kind of written like crack and definitely won't appeal to everyone, but it's a fix-it of preboot where instead of living with the Kents in Smallville and becoming the country boy of Teen Titans (2003) Kon moves to Gotham and then scores with Tim and eventually Bart. Follows the previous canon's timeline almost to the start of Red Robin. Some (honestly warranted) bashing of Steph but also of Lois Lane (???).Also contains explicit Tim/Dick.Other pairings: Clex, JayDick

TimKonCassieTrymmetry by glymrWhy do they feel like something's missing?

Set in a universe where Kryptonians form triad soulbonds. Kon and Cassie have both always been thinking about Tim when they're together, and after Kon comes back they can no longer deny it. They have to find Tim. I wish this was ten times longer.

JayTimKon

Heart of the Hoard by firefrightJason is a knight on a mission to save a captive young woman from a cruel and vicious dragon. However, when Jason reaches the keep the girl is kept in, it quickly becomes clear that not all is as it seems with his quest. For starters, Lady Timothea is actually Lord Timothy, and - as Jason soon discovers - he's hardly a prisoner in his tower.

Perfect because Kon is an ACTUAL DRAGON though it does lean on his YJ cartoon characterization.

I (Don't) Want to Believe by chibinightowl and strikeyourcolors

FBI agents Tim Drake and Conner Kent are sent to Arkham Heights High School to investigate a series of unexplainable incidents that have both staff and students on edge. Tim's firmly of the opinion the school is haunted while Kon is positive the occurrences can be explained in a more reasonable manner. After all, he doesn't believe in ghosts.Right? Right?

Horror casefic where Tim had a previous thing with Jason but also a thing with Kon so sharing is the way to go, especially when you're more (or maybe just equally) concerned about being murdered by ghosts in a haunted former asylum.

Okay I am stopping now because otherwise I will continue forever. I hope this satisfies some hunger.

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Sunrise Shadows

Rating: G 1,882 Gen AO3

It was late, or early depending on your perspective, and Steph was that bone deep tired that came after a fight to save the fate of the world. Which was fine, they’d won, but she didn’t really know where in the world she was and Steph really just wanted to crawl into bed. Maybe take her suit off first. Possibly slap some Neosporin on her cuts and scrapes. But mostly sleep.

She flicked through the channels on her comm, trying to find one not already filled with chatter. The all clear had been called about ten minutes ago now and clean up was well underway. But Steph was a Bat so it’s not like she could be much help clearing rubble or relocating displaced civilians. Her skills lay in kicks to the face, sassy remarks, and boots on the ground interpersonal interactions. Heck, not to mention she was only sixty percent sure she was currently standing in Prague. It might be Vienna. All Steph could do now was sit on the rooftop and wait.

The sun was rising on her left and she had lost track of time at some point but Steph was fairly certain it’d been dark in Gotham when she left. Taking a zeta from the Batcave to the Watchtower and stomping down the glee she still got whenever the computer announced her arrival as Batgirl.

Oracle was coordinating everything from the Clocktower which was lucky because the chaos on the comms made it sound like the Watchtower’s tech was down. No wonder she was still sitting here watching the sun rise over Eastern Europe. No Watchtower, no teleporting back to Gotham. Plus, the speedsters and, well, everyone else sounded a little busy. Making Steph with her super minor injuries, minimal destruction of public property, and... blondeness? (She was really tired; her brain was running out of battery and the internal monologue was losing steam) very low on the list of priorities.

Kicking her feet a bit, Steph allowed herself to get comfy on the edge of the roof. Thankfully, her thigh belt made it through today’s encounter meaning her snack supply did too. Steph pulled a chocolate chip granola bar out and tore it open with relish. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she started chewing. Then her stomach growled.

Steph was on her third granola bar and making a physical note in her phone to restock once she slept when she heard her name as part of the litany of sound that floated across the main channel.

“Batgirl? Batgirl this is Oracle, please respond.”

“This is Batgirl,” she said quickly, before someone could interrupt. The Flashes had been narrating rescues without realizing it seemed.

“I’m pinging your location as still in Prague, is this correct?”

Huh, Steph had been right the first time. “Uh, yeah O. I’m just waiting for retrieval.”

“Noted. Sorry about the delay. Dispatching a pickup to your current location.” Babs was all business as the abrupt cut of her switching to a different channel echoed over the line.

Steph waited, check ins and confirmations filling the empty space Oracle had left. She was still listening in, they all knew, just having a private conversation with whoever was playing ferry. Which honestly was kind of weird. Who wasn’t on the main channel right now? And what made them so special the almighty Oracle deigned to give them their own channel in the middle of all this? Ok, end of all this, but still. Steph was Babs’s friend, protege, pain in the ass, and she didn’t even get a private page.

“Oracle to Batgirl,” Babs came back, brusque. Though Steph thought it was just a mix of exhaustion and the voice modulator.

“This is Batgirl,” Steph tried for chipper and landed somewhere decidedly south of it. Honestly, she was just glad everyone else on the line had gone silent at the word ‘Oracle.’

“Please keep your current location, pickup will be arriving soon.”

Steph didn’t even get the chance to say thanks before Babs was moving on to the next thing, which was apparently sending Blue Beetle to help with a fire in San Antonio.

Turning her mic off, Steph settled in. Soon meant anywhere from five minutes to an hour in these types of things. At least she had a nice view and some snacks left in the meantime.

Movement out of the corner of her eye had her turning away from the sunrise. A shadow on the rooftop behind her seemed to shift. Steph blamed her growing exhaustion for making her see things but the shadows seemed to deepen, darken even as the sun climbed.

Instincts kicked in, Steph swung her legs around and scrambled from the edge of the roof. She flicked her bo staff out. Stepping lightly, Steph crept towards the spreading darkness. It was off, the kind of weird that put her on high alert. And it was getting impossibly darker.

Something seemed to be taking shape in the blackness, moving towards her from the depths. Steph was reminded suddenly of Peter Pan as a lone figure of shadow separated itself from the rest.

In a blink, Steph wasn’t looking at a man made of shadow, but a man. An impeccably dressed man with a top hat, dark glasses, and a silver topped cane that glinted in the morning light.

He smiled at her, but Steph didn’t change her stance. “You must be Batgirl,” he said in an accent Beryl would describe as posh. Steph suddenly missed Beryl and hoped that Knight and Squire made it out of today unscathed.

“And you are?” Steph tried for snarky as she lowered her bo staff to point at him. If he knew who she was then maybe he’d know better than to pick a fight with her. Steph was so tired she didn’t actually think she could win. She feared she wouldn’t even be able to hold him off until her pickup got here.

“The Shade,” he smiled as he said it and there was something more than pride.

Steph narrowed her eyes, but otherwise didn’t move. “I’ve heard of you. Whose side are you on today?”

“Always my own,” the smile twisted into a smirk at his joke. “Though currently I am assisting your Justice League.”

Cautiously, Steph collapsed her staff and straightened. “Technically, I’m also a private contractor. I’m guessing you’re my ride?”

He hummed and Steph couldn’t tell if he was annoyed and hiding it with amusement or amused and hiding it with annoyance. “I apologize for the wait. There was a bit of a misunderstanding between myself, a Mr. Constantine, and a, uh, Phantom Stranger about who was to come here and who was to fetch the Teen Titans from South America. Apparently, their jet was rendered inoperable.”

Steph laughed to herself at Tim and his team getting stuck. She could just imagine Rose and Cassie arguing. The demigoddess and ex-assassin both too worn out to do anything but snipe at each other. Or maybe Cassie and Kon were doing cleanup, leaving the rest to wait like Steph had.

The beginning of The Shade’s apology came back around to the forefront of Steph’s mind. It explained why Babs had switched to another line, that was a list of some relatively antisocial/social to only very specific people magic users. They probably weren’t too thrilled to be used as a superhero ride share either. So, their own line? Made sense.

“Totally understandable,” Steph waved off. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to be.”

The Shade smiled and inclined his head. “Thank you, Miss Batgirl. Now, if you would?” He held out a gloved hand, though his gloves were silk compared to her own reinforced leather with proprietary Wayne Tech rubber grips.

Still a tad leery, Steph’s desire to go home and fall asleep far outweighed any concern over going anywhere with The Shade. He wasn’t a Gotham villain, arguably wasn’t a villain at all, and she did kind of have a monthly midnight brunch with Harley and Ivy. And Selina seemed to have permanently moved into the Manor. Not to mention Steph started her crimefighting career stopping Cluemaster, her dad. So, Steph took his hand.

He took a step back into the shadows and Steph went with him. She caught him glance at her out of the corner of her eye as the shadows rose up and began twisting around her ankles first. He seemed surprised, but Steph was just as at home in the shadows as him. Granted, the inky darkness that was consuming them faster by the moment was darker and much much colder than the ones she was used to. Not to mention sentient.

Soon, Steph was surrounded by the darkness. She no longer felt entirely real. The only way Steph was even sure she existed was the weight of another hand holding hers. Her thoughts came and went before she could even register them. Suddenly, it all came back to her: Steph was being taken back to Gotham courtesy of The Shade and his shadows. She couldn’t see him but the grip on her hand told her he was there, somewhere in the black. That grip began tugging her forward and Steph walked.

One step.

Two step.

Three step.

The world around her seemed to lighten incrementally, though Steph had no idea how she was able to tell.

Four step.

Five step.

On the sixth step the darkness lifted, uncurling from around her until she was left standing on the rooftop of the GCPD in the shadow of the Batsignal. An inky puddle under her feet and a few tendrils still slipping off her calves.

The Shade lifted their linked hands, almost as if he was passing her off at a ball in a period film. Steph took her cue, walking towards the floodlight that shone in the still night sky. She let go of his hand once she was firmly in its glow.

Steph turned back to him though, wanting to thank him before he disappeared. What came out of her mouth instead was “That was so strange.”

He chuckled, “That generally is the sentiment when I accompany someone.”

“What’s the sentiment when you don’t?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Abject terror.”

“Ah.” Well she did ask. His smile flickered somewhere in the direction of sly. “Right,” Steph sighed. “I just wanted to thank you for this. I know you’d rather not do this-”

“Understatement.”

“-but I really appreciated it. So, thanks.”

He tipped his hat in an absurdly gentlemanly way. “You’re very welcome. Just, don’t expect it to happen again.”

“Noted.” And then Steph did something that could only be chalked up to extreme exhaustion.

Steph shot finger guns at The Shade.

He smirked and the shadows gathered around him. The Shade stepped backwards into the growing darkness. Then he was gone.

Smacking her head, Steph turned towards her apartment. She flicked on her mic as she pulled out her grapple. The voices in her ear had disappeared when she went into the shadows but came back as soon as she stepped out of them.

“Batgirl to Oracle,” she cut in and swung out over Gotham.

“Go for Oracle.”

“Consider me home and signing off for... Signing off.”

[dionsabbathenthusiast]

FRIENDS ON THE OTHER SIDE [1/4]

trigger warnings: guns, murdering, talks of kidnapping.

here is the first full length chapter of my first ever series! i hope you enjoy

CHAPTER ONE - THE TWO-FACE'D BANDIT

——————————————————————————

The sound of a coin flipping echoed through the halls. Ever since the Arkham Knight had tried taking over Gotham, Harvey Dent - or Two-Face, if you prefer - had been locked up in the GCPD holding cells with the other assailants from that terrifying night. Pyg hadn't stopped with his weird comments and Deacon Blackfire would not stop with his preaching of how devoting his life to his sick cult would fix Harvey's burns. He tried drowning them out with flipping his coin and keeping his mind on what he could do to break out of his cell.

Gordon and Cash stand at the front of the GCPD containment center, discussing future plans and what they'll do with the prisoners. Since Arkham Asylum shut own, Blackgate had been the only place to put the inmates but even Blackgate had a capacity level. Tim and Barbara had found their spot beside them, researching places that Tim and the other boys could start building in hopes of putting away these psychos and thugs for good.

Luna, dressed in her Blue Canary outfit, walked through the gates and ignored the beeping noise the metal detector made. "Cash, Gordon. I need access to the containment cell. I'm here to pick up a prisoner." She says with her arms crossed as she awaited to go ahead.

The four at the front desk all exchange looks and Barbara rolled over to her, looking up at her with a sad expression. "Canary, we're all worried for Nightwing's safety and we're trying our best to find him. Riddler is our only lead so far and as you can see-"

"Neither him or Penguin is in the holding cells. They planned this, they worked together. I'm going to find them and make them pay before rescuing Nightwing." She says and walks to the cell, everybody's eyes on her.

Pyg is the first to pipe up at her with his weird oinking. "Pyg can make Canary perfect. Pyg can make Canary forget." She ignores him and opens the cell, stepping inside before anyone else can get out.

"Canary, are you crazy?!" Tim yells, talking with his hands. He tries making his way to cell to aid her, but Cash stops him. The criminals in the cell weren't trying anything, they were just as surprised as the officers around the containment center were

"I'm just here for Harvey." His heard perks up at the words and he stops flipping his favored coin, holding the piece of metal in his flesh hand. He stands up and walks toward Luna as chuckles darkly when she grabs his arms and leads him out of the cell. She shuts the door behind her and walks past the front desk and past the men that had been locked up; militia men and gang members alike.

"Just couldn't stay away, could you, pretty bird?" He asks, a smug smirk on his lips. She rolls her eyes at the comment and tugs him along out to the parking garage. She opens the door to one of the cars she borrowed from Bruce's garage and shoves him inside.

"Try anything, Harv, and I'll lock away for good." She walks to the driver's side and gets in, turning the car on and speeding out of the department.

She drives across Bleake Island, maneuvering through traffic and ignoring stop lights. "You worked with Oswald for a short amount of time, but you two had a long time to plan out what you did that night. He must've shown you a few of his hiding spots." She brings up a map of each island on her wrist guard and allows Harvey to use the map. "Point them out. I got time, I don't care if I have to go to them all."

He points out three on each island, most of them being under bridges or hidden in alleyways. "You must really care about that Nightwing kid, Canary." Two-Face says, his eyes diverting back on the road as Luna swerves down the corner and down a tight street.

"You wouldn't believe." She abruptly stops the car and gets out of the car and Harvey follows. She kicks the door down, the bright setting sun cascading into the dark room. They walk through the big warehouse, lights fluttering on as they walk through the building.

"I didn't know Oswald spent all his coin on warehouses." She mutters, analyzing the surrounding area. She flips on her detective mode and searches for lifeforms. She detects one and stops in her tracks, bending down behind a box of ammunition. "There's someone at the back of the warehouse." She whispers.

Harvey peeks out from the top of the box, his eyes watching the person that was walking around the warehouse. The figure was short and what seemed to be a male with a small, light up green figure in his hands. Harvey's eyes widen and he pushes Luna's shoulder gently. "It's question boy." He whispers and sits on the ground beside her. "Come on, pretty bird. Give me a gun."

She looks up at him and rolls her eyes. "I don't have a gun, Harv..." She peeks up and studies the Riddler, pointing at him subtly. "But he does."

She stands up and grabs the batclaw from off her hip, firing it at Eddie. Once it had attached to him she used the momentum to fly towards him and kick him in the chest.

He falls to the ground with a thud, the trinket in his hands fumbling across the floor until it's gets trapped under Harvey's foot. Eddie reaches out to the trinket and Two-Face chuckles darkly whilst he crushes it, Harvey stealing his gun as he's dragged off.

"No! No, you feeble minded fool! I worked hard on making that!" Eddie yells and tries squirming away from Luna as she drags him across the cold concrete

"I have got to get me one of those." Harvey mutters as he watches Luna string up Riddler with the batclaw, the rope wrapping around his small legs.

"This unjust! Unfair! Unruly! You're supposed to be a hero, Blue Canary! Wait until Batman hears about you teaming up with this... This filth!" He yells as he struggles against the ropes, Luna resting against the wall. "And you, Dent! You're supposed to murder people like her! You're a fool! A charlatan! A liar!"

Harvey flips his coin, experetly twirling it between his fingers. "Yeah well... Fate said otherwise, Nigma. I help the pretty lady and she doesn't toss me in jail when all this is over." His lips curve into a twisted smile at Luna, who nods in this direction. She walks over to the hanged man and bends down, thinking about the ways she could make him talk.

"You were the one that set the trap, Mr. Nigma. Now I'm willing to communicate and put you back in Arkham without any broken bones or headaches." She says softly, the tone almost menacing - striking fear into Eddie's cowardly body.

He tries swinging to break out of his ropes, and groans in frustration when he fails. "Oswald told me to put that trap there to get pretty boy as payback for what happened to him and his business during the night the Arkham Knight attacked." He says and then quickly begins begging for her to let him go. "The blood is rushing to my frontal lobe, please let me go."

Luna walks back to her old spot on the old, rotting wall and crosses her arms. She gives Harvey a nod and he slowly walks to Eddie, flipping his coin in his hand. He cuts the rope and Eddie drops on his back, groaning softly. He goes to sit up as Harvey puts his foot on his chest and elicts a loud groan from Nigma's throat. "Heads... You get to live." He says and continues to move his coin between his fingers. "Tails... You die." His voice becomes rough as his Two-Face personality slips thro

Eddie gulps and watches the coin flip in Harvey's hands, his fearful eyes darting between that coin and searching for forgiveness and sympathy in Luna's eyes - but finding none.

Two-Face catches the coin and opens his palm to reveal the scratched up side of his coin, a evil smirk on his face. "Say hello to Joker, Edward." His voice is rough and ragged while he points his handgun at his face.

The tip of the barrel is close to his eye and Eddie tears roll down his cheeks. He continues to search for sympathy in Luna's blue eyes, but she just stands there and watches.

He goes to say something but is cut off by the sound of a gun shot. A gun shot that rattles through the empty building, causing birds to flee from their nests as the sun rises on Gotham's skyline.

Harvey walks over to Luna and shakes her hand. "I'll have my boys dump the body." His voice returns to it's normal state. "Where to next, pretty lady?" He asks as she pulls up a map of the city. She points to spot on the map and zooms in on the a spot underneath a bridge.

"Here. Perdition Bridge." She says softly, her eyes darting from the map to Eddie's dead body. Deep down she felt bad for what Harvey did but she also knew he deserved it honestly much more than some of the other criminals in this town.

Harvey seems the notice this and grabs her shoulder. "Darling, he deserved it. Let's get to that bridge and get you boy back." He turns her to the door and rests his hand on her back, leading her out of the warehouse.

They get in their respective seats in the car and Luna turns the car on, backing out of the alleyway. She speeds down the roads again as she drives across the bridge to Founders Island. She parks the car down the alleyway once more, the pair of them stepping out of the car.

Three soliders drop from the buildings above them, surrounding them with assault rifles aimed at them. Harvey reaches for his gun but it's kicked out of his hand, the other two soldiers keeping their guns trained on Luna.

"Boys, boys. What did I tell you?" A deep voice says, the sound echoing off the walls followed by footsteps. "The lady and her friend remains unharmed."

Luna turns to the sound, squinting her eyes to look at the man. She thinks for a moment as she studies the way he walks and moves his hands when he talks. Her eyes open wide and her mouth hangs open.

"Sionis."

[pop-culturereference]

Never Touch Him Again

Summary: Barbara finds out what Tarantula did to Dick. She takes justice into her own hands.

I originally wrote this for Dickbabs week but didn’t quite finish it. Also, not really shippy at all. The prompt was “touch.”

Word Count: like 3,000 ish

Characters: Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Catalina Flores

Pairings: Gen

“Don’t…touch me…”

Babs slammed the pause button and shoved herself away from her desk. Her skin flashed hot and cold until she was shaking and she felt like she was going to throw up. She lashed out and hit her books off the desk. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, but it was futile. It was times like these she desperately wished her legs worked; she needed to get up, to pace, to kick something until it was broken beyond repair and her foot was bleeding.

Instead, she yanked her hair up and wheeled over to the punching bag in the corner, where she picked up her escrima sticks and started mercilessly beating the shit out of it. If the punching bag were a person, it would have been dead, the muscles and skin pounded to bloody oatmeal sticking to splintered bones. When the back of her shirt was soaked with sweat, she threw the escrima down in a corner and reluctantly forced herself back to the video. She owed it to Dick to find out the truth.

She’d already found the truth that Bruce wanted: Dick hadn’t killed Blockbuster. He’d been there, and he’d watched it happen, but he hadn’t been the one to kill him. 

She hadn’t been surprised when Bruce came to her. “I need your help; I think Dick may have killed someone,” he’d said. Babs had been horrified, but not surprised. Dick had been very, very… off…  for a while. As soon as Bruce had brought it up to her, she knew that whatever she found would explain Dick’s behavior.

And it was explaining more than she’d expected. Right now, she only needed to watch far enough in the tape to see if Tarantula listened to Dick and left him alone, or if she didn’t and raped him. Babs considered Dick’s recent self-destructive spiral, and her heart sank. She was pretty sure she already knew. After steeling herself with a few deep breaths, Babs watched the next few seconds of the video, then turned it off. Her heart sank down to her stomach and sat there stewing, making her nauseous. Tears burned her eyes and left hot tracks down her cheeks. How selfish, she chided herself. Dick is the one who has the right to cry, not you.

Babs started putting herself back together, piece by piece. She did it, as she always had, with a plan of action. Her eyes still burned as her mind whirred. She had everything on Tarantula, and nothing on Catalina Flores

She had a recording of Tarantula shooting a man in the head. The man was universally hated. Tarantula was wearing a mask.

She also had security footage of Tarantula attacking and trying to kill her while she was at dinner with Dick. Again, she was wearing a mask.

She had evidence of Tarantula bribing police officers. No one cared—not in Gotham, and certainly not in Blüdhaven. 

She had footage of Tarantula raping Dick. Again, she was wearing a mask. If she were ever put on trial, Nightwing couldn’t very well show up to testify. Plus, she had connections. It wasn’t going to work.

Clearly, Babs would have to take things into her own hands.

She didn’t tell Dick what she knew. She didn’t tell Bruce, either. She didn’t tell Helena and Dinah. She could do this herself. She’d beaten Tarantula once before, and this time, Oracle would be the one catching Tarantula unprepared, and on her turf.

The plan was to do this the Bat Way: Lure Tarantula to Gotham, get her to commit a crime here, and let Commissioner Gordon handle the rest.

Babs knew just the crime: attempted murder. Of the commissioner’s daughter, no less. Babs allowed herself a grim smile. She had her work cut out for her.

—————————————————

The next time she went to see Dick, she wasn’t sure how to act. She worried that she was overcompensating by goofing off because she didn’t want to seem too serious, and she also worried about overcompensating with coldness or rudeness to avoid pitying him. She honestly wasn’t sure what he was up to recently; their conversations were concise and infrequent. She figured she had the best chance of cornering him into talking in the Batcave. She asked Bruce when Dick would be there and then used a software security update as an excuse to be there when he arrived.

“Nightwing!” She called, grinning nervously.  “Long time, no see! Get your butt down here!”

It was no longer “get your cute butt down here,” for which she allowed herself a gust of sadness.

He didn’t swing over using the bars around the cave. Instead, he click-clacked down the stairs and over the walkway to her, his leg brace altering his gait just enough that Babs probably couldn’t recognize him any longer by his walk alone.

He gave her a bow with a hand-twirl. “At your service, oh great Oracle.” 

Now that,  at least, was normal. While the theatrics didn’t have as much heart as usual, they hadn’t disappeared. 

Babs had thought over her next words and planned them out to the letter. “I’ll get straight to the point. I miss you, Dick.” He was wearing the Nightwing mask, so she studied the rest of his face for a reaction. All he did was tighten his lips to not give anything away. This close, she could also see that he looked deflated, like one day he’d just decided to shrink half a size, but only his skin had gotten the memo; It was stretched taut, making him look hollow and angular.

He waited for her to continue.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in contact as much. That’s on me. And…I miss my best friend.” She tilted a sad smile at him. “Can I take you out to dinner this week?”

He just stood there blankly, like she’d caught him off guard and now he didn’t know which expression to paste on next. Babs ached at how worn down he looked, and subtle anger squeezed her heart. Dick didn’t deserve this. She sighed. “That’s okay if you don’t-“

“No, no, that’d be great. I… miss you too, Babs.” He still looked diluted, like not all of him was there, but now he was smiling. 

“Great, I know this really good place a few blocks from my place. Big yellow M on the front, you might have seen it before. Called McDonald’s.”

It was a pretty low quality joke, but Dick let out a huff of laughter anyway. 

“I’m kidding,” she said. “This weekend?”

Everything she’d said was genuine, so she refused to acknowledge any guilt she felt over her ulterior motive.

————————————

Tarantula’s night of crime had taken some careful planning.

First, she’d had to stick surveillance on her to get some manipulation material.

Then, she’d had to find a place to rent with a good insurance policy. She’d also faked documentation for the past few months, just to be safe.

Then, she’d gathered evidence of Tarantula’s crimes in Blüdhaven and planted a file on her in the GCPD’s system.

After finishing the paper setup, she’d enlisted Batgirl as her eyes, ears, and knight in shining armor. Cass had installed the camera system in Babs’s new decoy apartment. Cass had also been the one to deliver the blackmail letters.

Now, all she had to do was go to dinner with Dick then come home to the new apartment and wait for Flores to come try to kill her.

Dick picked her up. He would also give her a ride back. It wouldn’t do for Flores to try to kill her before she got back to her heavily-monitored-and-filmed apartment. Babs had planned everything out to the last letter so she could focus on dinner with Dick, but she still needed a moment to steer her head out of Oracle mode and into friendship mode. While Dick helped her into the car, she methodically threw out any thought of her impending attempted murder.

Dick wasn’t very talkative so far; he didn’t even question her new address, but Babs explained anyway. If her explanation was a little embarrassing, hopefully it would only serve to show Dick her candor and openness with him.

“I’m only here for a week or so. I punched a whole in the wall with my escrima last week, and when they came to fix it, they found a rat infestation. I can’t be there while they’re fumigating.”

Dick maneuvered the car into the left lane, then shot her a glance, clearly disgusted. “Rats? That’s horrible!” He exaggerated a shudder. Babs had another explanation planned for when he asked why she wasn’t staying with her dad or even Bruce, but he didn’t seem to question it. Her heart squeezed; Dick was still dazed and not quite right. She’d already planned to be the one carrying the conversation, though, dinner would be fine.

“Believe me, I know that better than you do at this point. First hand experience.”

“Seriously, that is so disgusting.”

It was Dick, so she couldn’t help but mess with him at least a little. “Yeah,” she said. “They came scurrying out of the wall all together. They were this big,” she said, leaning to show him her hands measuring about the distance of her forearm. “Their noses left little greasy prints on my wallpaper. I thought I could handle it, until one night I reached to untangle the computer chords and I grabbed one of their tails.” She added an authentic shudder. 

Dick gaped and made a gagging sound. Well, not the best expression, but at least he was a little more animated. “You’re kidding! Babs, yuck! Please tell me you’re joking!”

“Kidding!” she said, laughing. “Don’t worry, Dick! I hightailed it out of there the moment I heard the word ‘rat’. I’m not going within a mile of there until every last one is exterminated.”

“Thank goodness. You had me seriously worried for your health and sanity for a bit there.”

“Aw, you do care!” she crooned. It was so easy for Babs to slip back into their old rapport, but the conversation died there. She had to remember that they’d broken up and also that Dick was very traumatized and probably wouldn’t be his old self for a while. She felt a sudden, sweeping melancholy as she realized that things might never go back to the way they were. It wasn’t fair to feel upset right now, she knew that. So instead, she pursed her lips grimly and reminded herself that at least Tarantula would be arrested later that night.

They made a nice little scene walking into the restaurant, Babs in her wheelchair and Dick in his click-clacking leg brace. No less than 4 employees and 3 non-employees offered to help them. Dick just glared, expression blank and flat, while Babs politely reassured them that they could manage. She did not roll her eyes even once.

It was a nice restaurant. The food was good, and the service was good. The conversation was not that good, but Babs hadn’t really been expecting otherwise. Nostalgia stung her the whole night, like lemon juice on a forgotten paper cut. 

She tried to diffuse the awkwardness between them with casual insults, a Barbara Gordon specialty. Dick reacted slowly and gave his chuckles and smiles a little late, but when they left and were once again seated in his parked car, he sighed and apologized.

“I’m sorry Babs, I’ll drop you off. Thanks for dinner.”

Babs locked eyes with him fiercely and fought not to show her anger at Flores. “Don’t apologize. Don’t you ever apologize. I can tell you’re going through some stuff right now. It’s not your fault, okay? Dick? Look at me. It is not your fault. I’m here as your friend, don’t think you owe me anything. I care about you. I-” don’t back down, Babs— “I love you. I’m not going to push you into telling me anything, but just know that I’m here for you, okay?”

Dick wasn’t looking at her, but the passing headlights of the highway reflected bright in his teary eyes. He cleared his throat. “Thanks. I… appreciate that more than you know.” He blinked hard, and drove her back to the makeshift apartment. By the time they got there, he was able to give her a normal, dry-eyed goodbye, and offer his help for her rat situation. Babs squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile before waving a goodbye. 

The next part made her feel like an idiot, but it was necessary. As soon as Dick was out of earshot, she scooted closer to a potted plant that she knew was bugged and murmured sweet nothings in a low voice. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the laugh that bubbled up, then made some lip smacking sounds and moaned a little. It wasn’t a very high quality bug, so it wouldn’t be strange that it only recorded her voice because she was supposedly closer. Breathlessly, she said, “you naughty boy, you know I have to work on my thesis tonight. Tomorrow.” She followed up with one more smack for good measure, then left her apartment and closed the door.

The moment the bug was out of earshot, she had Cass on the comms.

“Bait taken?” Babs asked her.

“Yes.” Babs was having a hard time not giggling. That was probably the stupidest, most embarrassing thing she’d ever done.

“Estimated time frame?”

“One hour.” The gravity of the situation settled on her, and there were no more giggles. 

“Thank you. Oracle out.”

Babs let herself back in, and, once again, she wanted to pace. Just as well that she couldn’t, she didn’t want to tip Tarantula off that she was expecting her. Instead, she changed into pajamas and erased the last 10 minutes of footage from her security cameras.

The dinner with Dick had gone okay from an interpersonal perspective, and from a make-flores-want-to-kill-me perspective, it had gone even better. It was pretty obvious from the dinner where Tarantula attacked her that she was jealous of Babs’s relationship with Dick. It should be just the little extra nudge that would get Flores over here to deal with her personally. The day before, Babs had delivered blackmail letters via Batgirl. Dearest Catalina, she’d written. It’s obvious that you’ve got half of Blüdhaven in your pocket, but I know for fact that the other half is in the pocket of Roland Desmond’s only surviving relative. She’d be very interested to know about this. Here, she’d taped a disk with footage of her shooting Blockbuster in the head. If you want my copy destroyed, get in touch. Much love, Barbara Gordon.

This was not Oracle style. When Oracle wanted to blackmail someone, they had no way to trace her, and she usually only did it to get criminals to up their paranoia and sabotage themselves. This time, Babs wanted Flores to track her down. She wanted to look like an easy target. Really, the only thing that "Dearest Catalina” could do now was kill her. It would be too much of a risk for a commissioner’s daughter to have that knowledge, even if the disk were destroyed. Sure, Flores would feel bad about it, but she’d know it was necessary. But, that wasn’t enough for Babs, so she made Flores angry. Batgirl had tailed Flores from Bludhaven yesterday and watched her plant a bug in Babs’s newly-placed potted plant, and the day before, Babs stood right next to it and gushed about her date with Dick. Flores would show no remorse, no hesitation. 100% premeditated murder. Batgirl was ahead of Flores now, and would be waiting for Babs’s signal to jump in and help her out. 

Now, all she had to do was wait. 

.

.

.

15 minutes, and she decided that waiting was the worst part.

.

15 more, and she was so glad she didn’t actually have a rat problem.

.

She hoped Dick was doing okay.

.

Fifteen more minutes, and Cass buzzed in to tell her Tarantula came armed with a knife and zipties but no gun. Good. Tarantula was going to get personal, maybe even tie her up and blabber even more condemning evidence. She got ready and pretended to be asleep. Ten minutes later, her window creaked open. She sighed softly and shifted in under her covers, keeping her eyes closed even though her heart was pounding. She struggled feebly when Tarantula grabbed her wrists and tied them together, feigning disorientation. She held off until she was already tied to struggle with her full strength.

“What do you want! Who are-” Babs was cut off with a slap to the face. Ouch. She tried to wipe blood off her face with her shoulder, but only succeeded in smearing it. It dried there, making her skin feel dry and crackly.

Flores sighed. “You know, I have nothing against you! I would have just let you be!”

“Is this about Dick?” 

“We could have made this quick and easy, but you just had to keep causing problems!”

“Oh, good. So this is just boy drama. Not about you shooting Blockbuster. I thought you were going to kill me.”

“Oh, I’m going to kill you, alright,” Tarantula snarled. 

Babs sneered. “I’d like to see you try.”

Tarantula punched her in the gut. She kicked, hard. One landed in her gut again, but most on her lower torso and upper legs. Hah. All of her spinal nerves down her legs were non-functional. Silver lining.

Babs squirmed but didn’t fight back. She needed to lull Tarantula into thinking she posed no threat.

Finally, Tarantula pulled out the knife. “I hate you. I thought I didn’t want to do this, but for you, I really don’t mind.”

Babs held still until Tarantula grabbed her by the hair to bare her throat. By this point, she was done pretending. She sliced through the zip tie and swung her fist directly into Tarantula’s nose. She grabbed Tarantula’s broken nose in her right hand and twisted, getting a scream. As her hands went to her face, Babs grabbed them and twisted again, breaking wrists and fingers. She kept one of Tarantula’s hands, squeezing it so the bones crunched slightly. She squeezed tighter, feeling Tarantula’s metacarpal bones grinding together, then screamed directly into her ear, rupturing her eardrum and signaling Batgirl. 

Babs leaned to Tarantula’s other ear and hissed, “This? This was nothing. Never. Touch him. Again.”

[starkzam]

“Natural Progression” Alternate Scene, Chapter 11

( Italics: actual text in the story before the part that got cut.)

It was strange to see such a sudden shift from the Dark Knight that he was used to seeing in meetings and out in the field to a soft yet stern man underneath. It wasn't something he'd been expecting, but it'd been something that made him want to run.

Jason coming in with his weird motorcycle helmet and scooping him up had been the only thing keeping the boy from panicking, so he was thankful to the man for that. He'd kept Billy close to him, something he appreciated more than he could say, and hadn't left his side in the past 15 minutes.

The larger raven growled when the line didn't pick up for the third time, shaking his head with a sigh. "Bastard won't pick up," he muttered, tucking the phone away and glancing back down towards Billy. "He'll just have to say hi when he gets home," he said before glancing around the room.

"Haven't decorated huh?" he asked, meeting the kid's eyes again. Billy could tell he was trying to make small talk- he wasn't very good at it. He sighed, shoulders dropping slightly. "Look kid..." he said, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his head. "Downstairs you... you looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I mean... I get it, the bat can be kinda freaky, especially if he jump scares ya like that but you..."

"You looked like you were scared he was gonna hurt ya." Jason tilted his head slightly. "Like... like you'd just had somethin' figured out about you and that Bats wasn't gonna be happy about said thing."

"Look, what I'm tryin' to say is- you okay?"

Billy looked down, thumbing the hem of his shirt. He felt kinda guilty hiding his identity before, but now... now he felt like a grade-A bastard for keeping it a secret. "I..." he trailed off, Solomon's distant yelling becoming a thrumming pain in his head. "I just... got scared is all..." he mumbled.

Jason gave him an unimpressed look. "You sure about that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Billy stayed quiet.

"Kid, we aren't gonna hurt you. Br- Bats isn't either. I swear he's not comin' after you or anything. We just... needed his help in finding you is all. You runnin' off had us freaked out. And even if you can't trust the others, and believe me, I get it, it's hard to trust people when you come from a place like we have," he said with a chuckle, "But you can trust me."

"We can start a pact or somethin', I dunno," Jason smirked down at the kid, seemingly getting an idea before pulling Billy's chin up to look at him again. "What if I go first?"

Billy blinked. What could Jason possibly have to hide?

"I uh, I actually don't know Bats cause of Bruce's connections with the League," he said slowly, making BIlly furrow his brow. That didn't make any sense. "I actually know him cause-"

Before the young man could finish, however, the bedroom door opened, revealing a worried-looking Bruce and a teary-eyed Dick standing there. Dick's eyes widened at the sight of Billy, rushing into the room and scooping the kid up in a bone-crushing hug.

"Bluebird, oh my god- are you okay? Who took you? Is your head hurt? How are your stitches? You didn't pull them did you-" Jason rolled his eyes, glaring up at the tallest of Bruce's kids.

"You're such a mother hen, Grayson," he said, shaking his head. Dick furrowed his brow, glancing down at Billy with a heartbroken face.

"Well excuse me for being worried about my little bluebird!"

"Now you sound like a distressed housewife."

"Jason," Bruce warned from the doorway,  leveling a stare in his direction before turning his attention on Billy. "Are you okay?" he asked, checking the kid over for injuries. Billy nodded, glancing back at Jason.

"Yeah, I'm okay...  um.. Bat- Batman was in your kitchen. I dunno if he's still there, but..." he trailed off, swallowing thickly. Mr. Wayne was way more intimidating when he was paying direct attention to him. He felt almost like he was being studied in a way, and it made him squirm.

"That's good," Bruce said after a moment, Dick setting him down on the carpet. Billy ended up clambering back onto Jason's lap- for some reason, the man was really good at making Billy feel not only protected and safe, but comfortable in a place like this. "We'll save Batman for later. Maybe you could explain just why you ran off for now?" Mr. Wayne continued, making the boy wince softly. He should have known that was coming.

"I- I just..." he trailed off, chewing on his bottom lip. He couldn't just tell them that he had to get away from the mansion to transform into Captain Marvel and go do his nightly patrol, now could he. What was a reasonable explanation that wouldn't make Mr. Wayne distrust him?

"I just... I really wanted to see Batman..." he mumbled, lowering his head slightly.  "But- but when he showed up in the manor I- I wasn't ready for it and..." he trailed off.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tightly before opening them and looking at the boy. "Billy, are you a meta?" he asked, making Jason and Dick's eyes widen. Bruce waited for an answer, calmly and quietly, as Billy's brain silently spiraled. Where was Mr. Wayne going with this? Why'd he think Billy was a meta? What if he was catching on!?

The 10-year-old's eyes widened, his hand instinctively going to the hem of his shirt again. Batman had a strict 'no metas' rule for Gotham, what if Mr. Wayne told him that he was? He wasn't, he could only do magic, but- but if the billionaire thought he was, he might kick him out, he might-

"Kid, kid you gotta breathe," Jason said, jostling him slightly and making the boy gasp. He hadn't even realized he was holding his breath. The raven tilted his head slightly, glancing towards Bruce before looking back at Billy. "Are you a meta, kid?"

Billy swallowed thickly, fat tears beading in the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, whoa, no no no, it's okay, it's alright squirt-"

Bruce sighed, running a hand through his hair before glancing down at the 10-year-old. "Billy, it's alright. You don't have to cry," he said, his shoulders slumping slightly. The billionaire walked closer, sitting down beside the pair on the edge of the bed. Dick and Jason looked at him as Billy rubbed his eyes with his palms.

"B-but Batman hates m-metas-" Billy said, giving in to the distinctly childish part of him. The part that told him if anyone found out that he could do anything, despite it only being runoff magic from Cap, that Batman would swoop in and do who knows what.

 / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - /- / - /

Yeah, so, as you can see, this scene went in a very different direction. I had a different plan in mind, but ultimately some things became more important than others, and some details got pushed to the side.

[cxramel-cat]

(SUPERBAT WEEK 2019) day 02

Chapter Title: Consequences Day Two: Possessive Rating: Explicit Warning(s): Detailed explicit sex scene, Non-Consensual, Emotional Unstable, Possessive Behaviours, Abuse of Drugs, Male Pregnancy Word Count: 5053 Summary: Justice Lord AU; In which Superman mourned for Batman's death. ➤ While we're free to choose our actions, we are not free to choose the consequences of our actions. - Stephen R. Convey Side-note: Written for @superbatweek​​ Other link(s): AO3 | Wattpad | Fanfiction

PART I: Vengeance

"I killed him."

Blue hues bulged wide. Heavy footsteps stopped.

"You... what?"

"I said, I killed him. Batman, the one who betrayed us, is dead for good now."

She talked with such pride. But for Kal, he felt like a part of him had been ripped apart by her words. It was indeed true that he had given her the orders of killing Bruce, but he had never expected the man to die for real. Bruce is tough. He fought against enemies who were stronger than him. He escaped from the traps set by the most devious villain. He could lose half of the blood in his body and still survive.

So, he can't possibly die. Not from such a simple trick played by Diana.

"Are you sure about that?" He tried to remain his calm demeanour as he spoke. "Maybe he could have faked his death."

"I'm very sure about that." She smirked. "I killed him with my own hands. I snapped his neck. The bones crushed underneath my strength like a piece of porcelain."

While she bragged about her victory, Kal was in deep silence. Her words barely made senses since he wasn't listening. He walked towards his office desk. From the corner of his eyes, he saw a dim reflection of himself on the glass vase. While his face remained stoic, his eyes glowed a dull redness.

When he placed his hand at the corner of the marbled desk, he felt it crack underneath his grip. He was furious. It was hard to imagine that Bruce is dead when the man had always been a stubborn soul. No, he should not be dead. He should have seen through Diana's disguise. He should have easily slipped away through one of his secret hideouts – he should have those around his mansion, didn't he?

How could Bruce be so foolish, letting Diana in his way? How could he die on him?

How dare he?

"... Kal...? KAL!"

Kal blinked, his vision blurring. He was not focused on her words. He was silently mourning over the death of his greatest partner. Slowly, the grief turned into anger which had resulted in the loss of control over his power for a minute. Within the minute, his heated gaze at the glass melted the glass into a pile of liquid.

"Kal, what's happening?"

She approached him, holding his arm in one firm grip as she looked into his eyes in worries. He should be grateful for her care, and yet, he felt furious. These are the hands which had killed Bruce. That grip of hers snapped Bruce's neck, resulting his death.

Like a piece of porcelain, she said.

"Kal, are you okay?"

She cupped his cheeks and brought his face close to hers. However, before she could, Kal stepped away, pushing her arms away from him.

"Stay away. You disgusted me."

Those words came out harsh and quick, but Kal did not regret it. He watched as the beautiful features on her face slowly twisted in anger. She wasn't expecting the kind of treatment from him.

"What the hell, Kal?! I disgusted you? After everything I had done for you, this is how you repay me? I killed him for you! The one who had betrayed you! And this is how you treated me for my efforts?!"

When Kal looked into her eyes, he noticed that they were glassy, filled with tears that she was holding back. Kal realized how hurtful his words were. After all, she was just obeying his orders. She had helped him to do the core he couldn't do – killing off a minor problem before it turned big; Bruce.

He should be grateful for her. He should embrace her as he would always do in the past. But those feelings he felt in the past – the warmth, the happiness, the gratitude – none of them existed anymore. He felt lost, like a piece of his heart was gone.

"Is it possible... you love him?"

She probed one of his darkest secrets. Did he love that rebellious Bat? Maybe he did. The day when he declared his marriage with Wonder Woman in the public, Kal had seen Bruce at the dark. While everyone was happy for him, Bruce's soft mumbles of wishes had been bitter. His gaze was hurt, and he left before the ceremony was finished.

It should have been Bruce who stood beside him. The feelings had been mutual. Yet, none of them confessed and Diana had been the one who had supported his decisions all along. She understood his decisions, and she never played tricks at his back.

He had chosen her because she was loyal and worthy. He had pushed Bruce away because he was distrustful and a coward. However, the way that Kal see now, it had been the wrong decision. Diana had supported him in blind, while Bruce had always loved him with his eyes wide open – which is why he would debate with him, making him think twice of his decisions.

But does any of these matters now? Especially since Bruce is dead.

"Of course not." He said calmly, shaking his head. "I would never love a betrayer."

"I'm glad," She smiled in relief, heaving a sigh. "I know he was a close friend of yours, Kal. He was one of mine too. But... he betrayed our trust. He took away our power once. And he would do it again. I'm just doing what I could to protect us. To protect you, Kal."

She hugged him, pressing her head against his chest and getting herself comfortable underneath his warmth. When he wrapped his arms around her figure, she smiled. The previous argument was all forgotten, for all she felt now was his warm embrace.

And that was the last thing she will ever feel, as Kal lifted one of his hands to caress her face...

×

He killed them. All of them. The cold bodies of the other lords laid around Kal. He stared blankly at them. There was no one left. He was the only person left, and he felt numb.

Bruce's death affected him badly. He felt incapable of feeling emotions. His well-known kindness – no one knew he still had one ever since Barry's death. Despite those rumours and worries, he felt human emotions, but not as much as he used to. And now, with Bruce's death, Kal felt that he was drifting more apart from the human side of himself.

'No.' Kal clenched his hands firmly. 'I won't let him. He can't die without my orders.' His eyes looked craze, as he stood up from the floor. 'No one. Not even God could take you from me. I'm the one who shall decide your fate, Bruce. Even if I had to pull you up from the hell's fire, you bet I would.'

PART II: Resolve

It had only been a day.

Kal wasn't surprised when he couldn't find the body in the destroyed manor. Someone had come to take away Bruce's body, and Kal knew only a few who would do it. His main suspect was Dick.

However, he didn't feel frustrated. If there was one thing Kal had learned throughout his years of trying to be an ordinary human, it was the fact that human was sentimental being.

'Naïve.'

He found Bruce's body at the Old Wayne mausoleum – buried next to Thomas and Martha Wayne. With ease, he had dug out the coffin and found Bruce's body within.

He looked just as Kal remembered, although the last time they had seen each other in the eyes had been a few years apart. He looked pale and still, yet somewhat in peace; like all of his burdens in this world was released from his shoulders. He looked almost perfect – as good as new – except for the marks on his neck.

'That could be easily fixed with the Kryptonian technology.'

"Don't worry, Bruce." He picked the body up in his arms. "I will fix you back. I promise you."

Once, Bruce had told him the tales of an old foe; Ra's al Ghul, the demon's head. The man whose life had been extended for centuries. Back then, he couldn't had understood the reason why something like the Lazarus pit existed. Bad guys like Ra's abused the power of the pit to stay alive for eternity. Aside from people who were too afraid to die and be forgotten from this world, Kal couldn't understand the benefits of the Lazarus pit.

Until now.

Kal carried Bruce's body into the Lazarus pit. He laid the man in the chemicals but refused to let go completely, as he was too afraid that he would lose him again. Bruce had died in the hands of Diana, leaving everything he had loved in this world. And Kal would not allow it.

This time, he would stay with Bruce. This time, he would choose Bruce over everyone in this world. This time, he would love him.

×

The effect of the pit on Bruce was something which Kal did not predict to have. He expected the man to come back screaming, or at least, struggles like a mad man. However, none of those happened. Bruce came back in silence, looking lost and emotionless. Like a living corpse.

But Kal wasn't complaining. He had heard the rumours about the pit and what it could do to a person. It could take a few hours for Bruce to regain his senses and emotions, and Kal didn't mind about it. He brought Bruce back to the Fortress and allowed the monitor to scan him. Kal was delighted when the result showed that Bruce was in perfectly good shape. However, his body temperature seemed a little low, which should be rising back to normal within a few hours – as said the Fortress.

Kal took his time in grooming Bruce. He bathed Bruce, scrubbed his skin and head with extra tenderness and the perfect pressure. He had also dressed the man up in the finest silk pyjama and dried his wet hair. During all of these processes, Bruce was quiet. He didn't even move unless Kal guided him to. He was as rigid as a lifeless doll.

"... and that should be the final step." Kal holds Bruce's hand, looking down at the trimmed nails in pride. Right now, Bruce was cleaned from head to toe and looking refreshed. He looked more like Bruce Wayne, instead of the dark knight of Gotham.

Kal took a long sniff on Bruce's wrist. The man smelled fresh and somewhat edible. Kal started by kissing each of Bruce's fingers before he started to trace his lips up to Bruce's arms. Then, he started to kiss on Bruce's neck and finally, his lips.

PART III: Awaken

Bruce's skin was cold but Kal was unbothered. He knew he shouldn't do this; not while Bruce was recovering. However, he started to feel aroused, as he savoured every part of Bruce – painting the pale skin with his marks.

"Bruce..."

Kal was patient. He peeled the pyjama off Bruce and slicked his fingers before he started to loosen the man up. He also made sure to go slow and carefully, as he buried himself within Bruce. The inside of Bruce lacked the warmth, and there were no reactions from the man either. But Kal didn't mind. After all, he felt contented, just to have Bruce back in his arms again.

"Bruce, my Bruce..."

Kal's cock slid in and out of Bruce's body with filthy wet squelches. It would have surely embarrassed the other man if it wasn't because he couldn't feel a single stimulation for now. Kal stared deep into Bruce's blank face, watching in fascination as he pressed his cock deeper into the man again.

"I love you, Bruce. I am not going to lose you again. Ever."

×

Thump... Thump...

He felt warmth. His heart starting to beat steadily. His nerves regaining its senses. Kal was on top of him, thrusting deep into him. He could feel the heat on his cold skin, and it was emitted from Kal. Everything he was currently feeling – they came from Kal.

"I love you, Bruce."

Ba-thump!

He could feel emotions overflowed within his chest. He felt tingly, as he replayed the words in his mind. Kal loves him, which is why he gave him warmth. He began to feel the pleasure that was coming from Kal, as the man thrusted deep into him.

"Mnn..."

Bruce started to let out shocked puffs of air. The sensation began to flood over his senses, as Bruce moved his numb limbs. He raised his arms, twisting them around Kal's neck, embracing the man.

Kal, who was almost reaching his climax, widened his eyes as he could finally hear Bruce's heartbeats, along with the arms that locked around his neck tightly. He tilted his head up, fever-bright eyes looking straight into Bruce's gaze.

"Kal..." Bruce cleared his dry throat and spoke. It was the first word he said, and Kal felt overwhelmed. He grinned wide, eyes glassy with tears, as he leaned forward, pressing a passionate kiss on Bruce's cold lips.

"Bruce..." Kal growled. "Don't worry, I will warm you up."

His hand reached down to grasp Bruce's length, running his nail across the head, and teasing Bruce into an orgasm. Bruce's body jerked, his inside clamped down on Kal's cock and Kal came deep inside, spilling his seed against Bruce's prostate. Kal nuzzled into Bruce's throat as he filled him.

He stayed buried inside Bruce for a while, enjoying how Bruce's body temperature began to rise. He holds Bruce close, licking and nipping at the skin of the man's neck.

"Fuck," Kal panted. "I wish I could have breed you."

Bruce continues to stare at Kal. He was absorbing every word that Kal was telling him, like a piece of sponge. And the last words which Kal told him, he took it into his heart, engraving them as a new piece of memory in his blank mind...

PART IV: Realization

"Where are you going?"

Kal looked over his shoulder. He tried to stay quiet, not wanting to awake the man beside him when he leaves. However, it seemed that he underestimated Bruce's sharp hearing.

"Work, Bruce." He sat on the side of the bed, ruffling Bruce's messy hair. "There are documents I needed to sign and meetings I needed to attend. I promise you, I will be back soon."

"Soon? How soon?"

And there they go, the same debate which occurred on every morning for the last two months.

"An hour, or two." When the man frowned, Kal sighed. "Bruce, we talked about this."

"I could follow you ̶"

"No," Kal instantly interrupted. "You can't. You will make me distracted, like last time."

The first time Bruce had given the suggestion, Kal had allowed it. He brought Bruce to the Watchtower and let him stay in his office. In the beginning, the atmosphere was in peace, although Bruce's frequent blank stares made Kal uncomfortable. Things began to get out of hands when a young heroine enters the room and hand over some documents for Kal.

Kal had not noticed how the thin lines of Bruce's lips curled down to a small frown. Kal had not noticed that Bruce had crumpled the page of the book he was reading.

Kal had not expected Bruce to stab someone in the eye while he wasn't looking.

When Kal pulled Bruce away from the injured woman, Bruce seemed unfazed. He looked a little crazed yet malfunctioned, holding a piece of glass shard in his bloody hand. That day, Bruce had not only hurt an innocent person, but he had also hurt himself in the process.

"You're mine, Kal. I will kill those who dared to look at you."

The remark shocked Kal. It was true that Bruce had shown signs of being clingy, but Kal had never expected him to go this far. Ever since then, Kal had sworn that he shall never let Bruce step out of the Fortress unless he could control his possessiveness.

"I will go along with you, Kal. I had to make sure no one tries to seduce you. If someone tries to bat their eyes at you..." Bruce clenched his fist. He looked a little insane. "I will kill them."

Kal had hoped that it was just an empty threat. But remembering the chaos which Bruce caused before, Kal doubted about it. "Look, no one will try to hit on me." He rubbed the human's shoulder tenderly. "They know I'm taken. You had made quite a scene at the Watchtower that day, stabbing Angeline in the eye."

"No." Bruce persisted. "I might have taken down one opponent, but that was just temporary. You're not leaving my sight."

"Bruce, stop being selfish!" Kal was frustrated. He had done nothing but being nice to the man, He had given him all of his time and love, which resulted in works piling up in the Watchtower. But it didn't seem like Bruce understands. He didn't even feel guilty at the thought of hurting a harmless woman. Unbelievable!

"Selfish?" Bruce growled back. "I'm not being selfish! I just don't trust those thirsty sluts around you ̶ !"

"Those people you called sluts, they are my comrades!"

"You don't need them! You only need me!"

"I need them! They're not what you think, Bruce. They're hired to be the protectors of the Earth, to make sure that human like you are safe! Stop thinking that everyone wants to ride my dick!"

"I'm safe with you," Bruce said like it was a matter of a fact. "And everyone does want to ride your dick. They just don't have the nerve to say it out loud." His hand brushed across Kal's crotch. "It's mine. You're mine."

Bruce was looking at him intently with furrowed brows like he was threatening Kal to try and take a step out of the room. But Kal would not be easily frightened by a minor threat of castration. It wasn't like Bruce could manage to do it either.

"Yes, I am yours," Bruce smirked in victory. However, arrogance didn't stay for long. Suddenly, he was toppled by Kal, who held both of his wrists in one grip. "But only in here. Once I stepped out, I'm a Lord. It was my responsibility to keep the world safe. If you couldn't learn to keep your crazy possessive on hold, then I might have to make sure you learn it the hard way." His sharp and stern tone froze Bruce in disbelief.

"Starting from now on, I will focus on my work. I won't touch you, nor will we sleep in the same room, until you realize what a huge mistake you had made in threatening a Kryptonian, Bruce."

PART V: Temptation

He stood and watched in the dark. Red rose petals scattered around, and people dressed in formal clothing cheered for the newlywed.

There were so many familiar faces. But he didn't step out of his hideout.

Somehow, he just can't.

The groom suddenly turned around and met his gaze.

Bruce was stunned.

It was Kal. Or was he... Clark?

The name sounded somehow familiar and bittersweet at the same time. For Bruce, it felt like somewhere in the past, this name had suited Kal better than his current one.

But why?

'I wish you will be happy with her.'

Bruce heard himself whispered. His heart tightened.

Why was it painful? Why were his eyes wet?

It was so painful.

So excruciating... So terrifying...

No... No! It should have been him! It shouldn't be her!

Wake up... WAKE UP!

×

Slowly, Bruce opened his eyes. His breath hitched. Cold sweats formed on the pale skin. Blank blue hues stared at the ceiling for a good minute.

It had been two days since Kal left for work. He didn't come back. And despite Bruce threw tantrum about it, the only existence to greet him was the system, which tangled him up and gave him a shot of tranquilizer.

Bruce did not like any of these.

The emptiness in the Fortress scared him. It made him began to recall memories which made him uncomfortable. He felt like he died once. His neck cracked a little too loudly whenever he twists it. He felt like there was once he lied in a confined box in the dark. It was cold and deadly quiet. It was scary.

However, something darker than fear is taking over him. The dream had pulled out a new possessiveness within him. Bruce believed that the scenario must have happened somewhere in the past, which he couldn't remember. But it doesn't matter for him. Not now, not ever.

Kal is his, and he shall chain him down with whatever he could do.

'I wish I could breed you...'

Bruce blinked. He rolled over to the side, sliding his hand over at his flat stomach. It was an absurd idea, but it never hurt to try, right?

"Hey, monitor," Bruce called out. "I had some questions to ask about the Kryptonian technologies in reproduction."

×

"Welcome home, Kal."

Kal looked over his shoulder, unclasping his cape as Bruce entered his room. The man took over his cape and helped him to fold it up neatly. Then, with a smile, he announced that dinner was ready.

Bruce Wayne, cooking?

"I followed the recipe, and the monitor had guided me to make sure there are no major mistakes. Don't worry."

Despite the words, Kal still has his doubts about Bruce's cooking skills. So, when the stew was placed in front of him, Kal hesitated.

He might have a stomach which was stronger than an ordinary human, but he would still prefer to have something edible to eat. However, when he looked over at Bruce's excited gaze, Kal bottled up and take a quick bite.

"It was... good." Kal was surprised, as he took another bite – just to make sure that it wasn't his imagination. "Impressive, for someone who had never been to the kitchen, Bruce."

"Does it hurt to give a compliment?" With a light chuckle, Bruce poured two glasses of wine – one for Kal and one for himself. "Cheers, Kal?"

He had let down his guards completely, as he accepted the glass and clinked it against Bruce's.

"Cheers."

×

Just when Kal was going to sleep, a knock on the door cancelled his intention. He was stunned, when he saw Bruce in his pyjamas, holding his own set of pillow and blanket.

"Hey," Bruce greeted. "Can I... sleep with you tonight?" When he noticed Kal's questioning look, Bruce began to explain. "I had been good, haven't I? I didn't hurt anyone. I didn't act like a possessive bitch. I cooked dinner for you. Please, Kal?"

Kal's heart softened with the words, especially the last sincere plea. The promises he made in a week was forgotten, as he opened the sheet, allowing Bruce to slip inside.

The bed was a single bed, which was not fitted for two grown-up males to sleep together. But it wasn't like anyone of the duo minded the limited space. They could feel each other's warmth. Their body pressed close against each other. It felt good.

The peace didn't last for long. Kal wondered if it was due to Bruce's appearance in his space, or the fact that he had just missed the intimate moment with Bruce. He felt himself getting hard. The heat, the friction, his groin pressed against Bruce's bottom, his chest pressed against Bruce's back.

Bruce was warm, and he smelled incredible. It seemed that he had bathed, and whatever shampoo or cologne that Bruce had used on himself – it made him smell delicious. It was pure, musky and soothing, which is driving Kal mad.

Bruce felt it, the hardness nestled between the crack of his ass. There was a nearly silenced grunt from Kal, and Bruce took it as an approval to shift his hips – creating the hot fiction which excited Kal.

It goes on for a while, Bruce rubbing himself against Kal's cock. Both of them became greedy, craving for the warmness from each other as Kal began to tilt Bruce's face towards him, kissing the man deeply.

The pyjamas were stripped and fall off the bed. The two hot bodies which laid on the bed began to rock more intensely as they give in to the temptation...

PART VI: Downfall

It was another month which goes by when Kal decided to give Bruce the second chance of proving that he had changed for the better good.

In the beginning, Bruce was behaving properly. He didn't hurt the new secretary who came and retrieves Kal's documents. He laid on the couch, his eyes lazily follow after the woman like a predator. But in the end, he didn't stab her.

However, the calamity was broken when Kal thanked a servant for the meal. Kal had missed how Bruce's eyes had dilated. He should have known something was wrong when Bruce excused himself to the bathroom. He should have noticed the used butter knife in Bruce's hand...

The servant died a horrible death. His bloody head dented in and there was a butter knife stabbed deep in his right eye. Although the death was covered up and only a minority knew about it, no one knew who the assailant was. Except for Kal, who looked over at Bruce with red angry eyes...

×

"Kal...! Stop! It hurts!" Bruce winced. However, Kal pretended not to hear his pleas. "Stop! You're hurting me!"

"Hurting you?" Kal growled. His grip on Bruce's wrist tightened. "What about the man you killed? Do you stop when he begged you to? Do you? DO YOU?!"

Bruce flinched. It was the first time Kal yelled at him, and the serious glowing red eyes had indicated that he had really angered the Kryptonian.

"I'm sorry..."

"Sorry?" Kal gave out an ugly laugh. "Sorry doesn't fix shit, Bruce. How are you going to explain to his husband? Or his daughter? Bruce, he has a family! And you killed a good innocent man just because you couldn't keep your goddamn possessiveness in control? Damn it, Bruce!"

Kal closed his eyes, heaving a breath.

"... it had been a mistake." He murmured. Opening his eyes, his gaze was now cold and filled with disappointment. "I should have known. There would never be a thing such as a great miracle without any consequences... I should know..."

"... Kal...?" Bruce was beginning to feel anxious. Kal loomed over him, his hands began to wrap around Bruce's neck. The human struggled, but the Kryptonian's grip was firm. It was beginning to get harder for Bruce to breath, as he began to kick his legs. "Kal.... KAL!"

"I'm sorry, Bruce." Kal ignored the call. "I shouldn't have mess with your life, I should have let you rest in peace. Don't worry, it will happen soon enough..."

"No... NO!" Upon realizing Kal's purpose, Bruce began to struggle harder. "Stop! Don't! I... I'm pregnant!"

The sudden exclamation clicked something in Kal's heart, and it was painful. He let go of Bruce by shock and stared hard like he couldn't believe what the other had just shouted out.

"Don't fool me, Bruce. You can't be pregnant."

"I can. I am!" Bruce yelled in defence. "Look inside!"

"I don't like the dirty pranks you played, Bruce!" Kal shouted back. "Men can't get pregnant!"

"Not without the Kryptonian technology!" He grabbed Kal's hands which were around his neck, and slowly guided them towards his flat stomach. "Just... Just look, Kal. Look and you will believe my words."

As he calmed himself down, Kal began to hear the soft heartbeats that came from Bruce. It was almost unbelievable, but it was not a pathetic lie created to escape from Kal's wrath. He could see the tiny living; small, but alive and energetic, which was nestled safely in Bruce.

"You wanted this." Bruce placed his hands over Kal's. "You... you told me on the first night. When you... gave me the warmth."

He was feeling the mixed emotions; the confusion, the anger, and the unbelief.

"What did you do to your body?"

Instead of being happy, that had been his first question. And Bruce, who had expected Kal to swipe him up from his feet and peppered him with a kiss, was confused.

"You... don't want the baby?"

Kal didn't have the time to react. The innocence disappeared and was replaced with insanity.

"You DON'T WANT it?" Bruce flunked away Kal's hands, his eyes crazy. "You don't like it?"

"No, Bruce ̶"

"Then I'll take it OUT."

"NO!" Before the man could rush out and did the unbelievable, Kal grabbed him back. He wrapped Bruce in his arms, fearing what the man could had done. "No, that isn't what I mean, Bruce. I'm just... shocked. What had you done to your body? I am worried there might be risks for you if you are going to carry this baby, Bruce. I NEED to know what you had done."

Bruce blinked, seemingly confuse with Kal's worries. "The... medical robot. It showed me how. It had me enter a gel tube, which placed a piece of the codex in me and created an artificial womb. The medical robot said, the glory of Kryptonian technology..."

Of course, it had to be the Kryptonian technology. There were no technologies that could have done this, except for the Kryptonian technology. Now, realizing that Bruce is carrying his child, there was no way that Kal could have killed the man. There was a tiny living of his own blood and flesh, which is living within Bruce. He couldn't kill Bruce, for he would have killed the mother of his child. No, he can't.

"Kal."

"Yea?"

Bruce grabbed his hand and placed it on his womb.

"Are you happy?"

He stared deep into Kal's eyes – full of love, yet with the dark possessiveness – as he asked.

"I..." He hesitated. However, when he saw how Bruce's features threatened to crumble at any minute, Kal knew that these were the consequences he had to take responsibilities for since he was the one who had brought Bruce back to life. "Of course I am."

[northoftheroad]

Not worth the effort

Written for the DickandDamiweek 2019. Theme: Rain.

Rainwater puddles glistening in the cold light from the surrounding buildings. That was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. In the clear water, there were wisps of darkness – coloured by blood. His blood.

Damian shut his eyes and collected his thoughts. The man he had followed had managed to cut him in the thigh; he remembered that. Something was aching in his forehead, and there was a feeling of something warm and sticky in his face – perhaps blood from a wound, perhaps bleeding from his nose or mouth.

He was in no immediate danger. He would not bleed out from the cut; the blood hadn’t been running freely when he continued the pursuit, before he tried to make the jump between two industrial buildings but had failed to reach all the way, and tumbled down to the ground.

Of course, he was an expert in how to break a fall; but a hard impact been unavoidable and he had lost consciousness for a moment. Now he felt drained, his body a mass of pain, his head foggy while the blood was slowly seeping into the rainwater around him.

He would catch his breath and rest, just for a little while. As wet as he already were, another few minutes wouldn’t make a difference. Then he would force himself to rise and find his way back. Surely he would be able to walk, after the rest.

There was no alternative. Damian was fairly certain the communications device in his belt had been destroyed in the fall. It would be difficult for his associate to locate him.

He felt a nagging doubt that Grayson would even make much of an effort to find him. The man’s life would be simpler if he could offer Drake the position of Robin back, after all.

The newly minted Red Robin had clearly shown his opposition to being forced to leave the junior position in the partnership that was Batman and Robin. Grayson would be happy to get a chance to mend that bridge… He would get the opportunity to work with someone he knew and trusted – and loved.

He felt a nagging doubt that he was worth the stand-in Batman’s effort, too. He had made mistakes, after all. Being overconfident, distracted, let himself be wounded and, finally, let his prey get away from him.

Father would be disappointed. He could imagine the man’s face, frowning with those well-known furrows between the eyebrows and tightness around the mouth.

And Mother… She had wanted him to learn from his father and grow into a worthy heir. Instead, he had lost Father and could not even keep up with the circus boy that was Wayne’s first chosen heir.

Yes, Mother would be disappointed, too.

No one would question if Grayson found him too late. It wasn’t the first time the new Robin had slipped away to challenge the Gotham underground, after all, and been close to death thanks to his impulsive actions.

No one would question if Grayson didn’t hurry.

He never even knew that the man was approaching over the rooftops. Not until the swooshing sound of a cape traversing air reached his ears and seconds later, the new Batman made a soft landing some yards in front of him.

Damn the man; he could have landed further away, to avoid those extra water drops to splash over him. But Damian pressed his mouth shut and didn’t speak. Neither did his mentor, who swiftly moved to Damian’s side and crouched.

The hands of the new Batman felt all over Damian’s body, checking for injuries. Seemingly satisfied, the man withdrew his hands for a few seconds. Damian experienced a strange feeling of loss, but then he felt a wet gauntlet on the top of his head and a voice, much too gentle to come from the cowled head, asked, “How do you feel, Robin? Do you think it’s safe to move you? I can’t find any injuries that should prevent it, but you know best.”

Damian hesitated for a second; then he slowly and carefully tried to move one part of his body after the other. He had a headache, and his back hurt where he had landed, the knife wound in his thigh pulsated in pain and the possible cut in his forehead was stinging. But he could feel all his limbs, and he did not think he had any broken bones.

“It is safe,” he decided, whispering.

Grayson's hand moved a bit on top of Damian's head, and he replied in a low voice, “Good. Up you go, then,” before picking him up. His mentor moved him around in his arms until Damian was settled in what the man probably deemed as comfortable a position as possible, with his head resting in the crock of the man's neck.

“Okay there?”

He clicked his tongue in reply to the stupid question. Of course, it wasn’t okay – he had failed, he was sore all over and felt acute pain in several body parts, and now he had to suffer the indignity of being carried like a baby. But he would endure and come back stronger and better…

Grayson seemed to interpret the sound as a go-ahead and started walking. Damian concentrated on keeping as still as possible and tried to fix his thoughts on his mistakes and how he could learn from them. He wanted to avoid lingering on the feeling of being curled up in his new guardian’s arms or thinking about the inappropriate scolding that the man was surely going to give him once he was home and deemed safe.

But when they closed on the Batmobile, he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

“How did you find me?”

The man in the Batsuit chuckled – Damian could feel the puffs of air on his scalp. It was an odd sound coming from someone in the guise of The Dark Knight.

“Batman never reveals where he hides all his trackers, Robin. I’ve learned that the hard way.”

Damian knew he should be affronted. That he should raise objections to being tracked like a pet, deemed too irresponsible to be left without supervision.

To his shame, the feeling that first crossed his mind first was relief. Relief that Grayson thought he was worthy of keeping an eye on.

That his Batman wanted to protect him.

[schrijverr]

Batman is the what now?

During an interview some members of the justice league get asked who the momfriend is and the answer was easy.

Ships: none

Warnings: none, but tell me if you feel like there are!

~~~~~~~~

“Hi everybody, today we’re joined by some extra special guests. Give it up for Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Flash and Aquaman from the Justice League!” the interviewer said.

The heroes said their hellos and she went on: “Today I’ll be asking them questions that you guys send in. We’re all very excited to have you. So, first up, we have from Twitter ‘How is life in the Watchtower?’”

She looked at them expectantly. They shared a look before Superman said: “It’s great. We all have our own homes, but this is a second home with a second family.”

The others nodded in agreement. “How nice,” the interviewer said, “Does that mean you know each others secret identity?”

“That’s classified. Sorry.” Wonder Woman quickly said.

And so another ten questions were asked, about who stole the snacks, who forgot things the most and even if they bet on certain things they shouldn’t. Then she asked: “So, who’s the momfriend?”

The league members looked confused and she explained: “The friend who acts like a mom, is always taking care of each other, that sort of thing.”

The heroes thought about it.

~

Flash was being an idiot. His arm was broken and he had broken a rib, but he refused to go to he med-bay. He insisted that he was fine, because he had fast healing. Then Batman cut him off and said: “You may have fast healing, but if it heals wrong we have to break it again and when that happens I’ll re-break your bones myself. Med-bay, now!”

Flash pouted, but did as Batman said.

~

Aquaman was out of it. No one knew how to point it out, so they had just avoided the broody king of the seas. But it was hard to ignore when your in a meeting with him and need his opinion as well. So Batman said: “Aquaman, we need your input as well. What’s wrong?”

Aquaman huffed and said: “Why would you listen to me. No one else does when I’m talking about something important.”

“We listen to you, so spill.”Batman said.

Aquaman stayed silent for a second before breaking. He said: “I try to get everyones attention to how bad the pollution of the sea is getting, but no one wants to listen. And it’s bad down there and it’s bad for up here and I don’t get why people won’t listen.”

Batman thought it over and said: “Join a protest group. They do actions and with your control over sea animals they could get extra attention, besides you’re a king. Technically, you should be able to request a meeting about this with the UN.”

Aquaman seemed happy with new options and smiled, after that the meeting went by very smooth.

~

Green Lantern was tired. He just had a really stressful week and to top it all of he just had to save the world with the JLA, which was all good of course, but that also meant that they would have a meeting right after about the battle, which he would have to sit through before getting to crash on his bed. He was half lying half sitting on the couch trying to stay awake for the meeting that would start any moment now when Batman walked past. He tried to sit up, but it was just too much work. Batman noticed him move, stopped and observed him for a while and then said: “Go to bed, Hall. You’re tired and you did good. I’ll cover for you.”

Green Lantern nodded and fell asleep almost instantly. He only heard Batman say: “Green Lantern couldn’t make it, he sends his apologies.” before letting the darkness take him.

~

Batman and Superman were on a stake out when Superman got thirsty. He looked around hoping to find anything to drink around him. It was kind of embarrassing that he didn’t take anything to drink with him on a stake out, but mistake happens. Batman noticed and silently handed him his bottle of water. Superman thanked him and they went on to stare in at their targets.

~

They were all in a lair with magic stuff, looking for a spellbook on how to turn some unfortunate citizens back into their normal self. They were picking stuff up and looking at it when Batman noticed them doing it. He immediately ordered: “Drop all of that! We’re in a witches home. Don’t you think some of these objects could be cursed?”

Everyone looked down at their hands and quickly put back the item they were holding.

~

They all looked at each other before saying: “Batman.” at the same time.

The interviewer looked shocked and she asked: “Are you sure? Is Gothams feared Dark Knight the momfriend?”

Flash nodded enthusiastically and said: “Absolutely.”

A week later when the interview aired the whole Internet exploded. For three weeks the number one on trending was #Batmanisthemomfriend and all the stories about people who had seen him interact with his kids became popular overnight. The League expected Batman to be mad, but when they asked him about it, he smiled and said: “No, I don’t mind. We all need a reminder now and then.” and then he had walked away.

[ty-talks-comics]

Best of DC: Week of June 26th, 2019

Best of this Week: Batman: Damned #3 - Brian Azzarello, Lee Bermejo and Jared K. Fletcher

It ended as it began; with a fall.

Barman: Damned has finally reached its epic conclusion and it was absolutely worth it. Brian Azzarello wrote this to be his most haunting and dark story to date since Joker and Lee Bermejo gave everything he had to make the art in this book better than almost everything in the previous issues.

Constantine starts the issue with a monologue about control and how no human truly has it. We’re surrounded in a constant maelstrom of chaos and those that seek true control know this fact better than everyone. Obviously as this speech is being made, Batman is the one being referred to as a heart forms from the body of a bat inside of a decayed skeleton.

This imagery, gruesome and disturbing, let's on more than it appears, making a lot more sense by the end of the book. Batman awakens in a coffin and struggles to get out before being saved by a gigantic Swmap Thing as his roots break into the coffin and lift the grave from the ground, mostly destroying the cemetery. Swamp Thing is a very ominous force in this story, staying large and speaking slowly, with some questionable statements about what’s truly at stake in the search to solve how the Joker died.

Constantine shows up and immediately starts bickering with Swamp Thing with the Avatar of the Green telling Batman not to trust the con-man as a mysterious figure works their way through the darkness, bringing angel statues to life. Striking as much fear as the Weeping Angels from Doctor Who, the statues spring to life and attack Constantine only for Swamp Thing and Batman to fight them off. They scream for Batman to be theirs, the lettering indicating that the being that had been speaking to Batman in the past was talking through them. One of them creates a nasty gash on Batman’s face, leading towards his mouth and he smashes it and chases after the woman in the shadows. She whispers of fates written, promises made and secrets kept,  which sends Batman spiraling out and causes the angel statues to fall.

Constantine jokes about beating the Angels and Batman says that he wishes that he could find answers to what’s plaguing him and Gotham City to which Constantine relies of the veil between life and death being thin as he takes him to someone that may be able to help. The pair arrive at a club hidden from humanity, but not those that have magical knowledge or seek it. Zatanna appears and, at Constantine’s request, acts as a medium with Deadman joining them all as just a guest.

Things start to take an even darker tone as Zatanna’s spirit calling appears to be very painful, washing the pages in a harsh red. Batman believes that she’s calling the spirit of the Joker or the woman that’s been following him and instead the spirit of a young Bruce Wayne appears, pulling Bruce, Constantine and Deadman in the body of a rat into Bruce’s memories. There, they see the young Bruce being caressed by a horrifying Enchantress who reveals that Bruce made a deal with her. I think all the way back in the first issue, she would make him fearless and the only payment that she would need was his tears. I think the implication was that she had some sort of hand in the death of the Waynes and symbolically Bruce Wayne died as well.

I have never been more afraid of Enchantress that I have of Bermejo’s interpretation of her. Her hair is scraggly, her mody is meatless, all skin and bones. Her fingers are gnarled and her face… mannequin-like with her mouth connecting to her eyes, all of it hollow with terror and malice with her teeth falling out and the skin cracking, almost like porcelain. Deadman bites her foot to distract her while Constantine picks up Joe Chill’s gun and shoots her three time. To me, this seems to be a clear mirror of the deaths of the Waynes as she is shot in the head, chest and in one last unseen place. Thomas was shot in the head, Martha in the chest and we never see how the Child Bruce dies, but with Enchantress’ death, Bruce’s spirit is released from her deal.

Batman sees his dead body and thinks that he’s dead and Constantine says that it’s likely the past that he needs to let go of that’s dead. Batman rebuffs him and decides to head to the one place that he hasn’t since going on this adventure with Constantine, the Gotham City Morgue. Constantine departs and tells Batman to be careful what he says to some “Almighty force.” Once inside, Batman meets the man in the green hood that ran away from him in the first issue who tells him that he “fought hell for his soul and stands before him in judgement,” and his identity is made clear; He is The Spectre, the embodiment of the Rage of God in the form of a man.

*Spoilers Ahead if you wish to read on your own and don’t want to know how things turn out*

It is here that we understand the grand picture of what happened and how Joker dies. In what turns out to be their last fight, The Joker simply stabs him. One stab to the left side of his body, likely puncturing the lung, and he knew that the injury was fatal. He fights the Joker, sending him over the ledge of The Gotham Bridge where he holds on for dear life. Batman holds out his hand, thinking of saving him because that’s what he does… but in fear of what Joker will do if there’s no Batman around, he closes his hand and the Joker plummets to his death, leaving Batman to die of his wounds.

This was Batman’s figurative fall. His moment of embracing fear, breaking his deal with Enchantress and allowing her to try and take his soul, was what caused all of this. He chose weakness and all of Gotham suffered for it, but Heaven was watching too. A drawer with an unknown body is opened and Batman is told that he will be judged as he has judged others and after peeking under the white sheet over the body, he laments that he wishes the Joker were still alive before his soul is sucked into the drawer and presumably the body.

The next scene we see if the fall from the start of the series and a Joker with much shorter hair rising from the water and laughing. I believe that this is a reincarnated Joker with Bruce’s now tortured soul at the helm of it as we see a final shot of Joker running his hands through his hir much like in The Killing Joke as in the final page, the heart from the opening is paid off as the final bits of panel bordering resembles a heartbeat monitor as they form the laugh “Ha” over and over.

This book was a stellar package of amazing. Bermejo’s art and his photorealistic style continues to amaze in his representations of our favorite characters. Constantine looks like a lithe snarky prick as he always should. Swamp Thing looks imposing and terrifying as more of a formless creature of The Green with a face that occasionally forms fists and his wooded, mossy appearance almost makes you feel like you touch him. As previously stated, Enchantress was horrifying and made to feel like more of a threat than she ever has. Zatanna was more beautiful than her first appearance, if only because she was in her classic costume.

Everything had an unsettling tinge of horror to it. The bat in the beginning as he opens to form the heart was very creepy. Swamp Thing, while being a good guy, still came off as terrifying with his glowing red eyes and lack of mouth. Zatanna’s spirit summoning aroused more thoughts of possession than anything else has either her face or the faces of the spirits were superimposed over hers. Bruce, as he was entering his memories slumped over, looks like he’s died, especially with the page being colored red.

Brian Azzarello crafted a great horror mystery that tied in so much of the magical community that Batman does his best to avoid and what circumstances would cause him to fall from grace. Batman comes off as heroic still, but he’s unfocused, something is in his head. He’s uncertain, especially because he doesn’t want to acknowledge what he did, so much so that it’s blocked from his memories. It’s a head trip to read because by the end you feel an unfortunate feeling of disappointment in the Dark Knight.

He’s supposed to be a hero, standing for justice and never giving in to his fears, but watching him close his fist and seeing the Joker’s fingers disappear from the ledge just sends a shock to the senses. Watching him take this journey, as Constantine keeps him from the Morgue as he was originally supposed to go to first, seems like he’s suffering through trials or stages of grief after what he’s done.

This story is truly the quality of what I expect from DC Black Label. With this stellar debut and it’s amazing ending, I only hope that future releases are this good. Batman: Last Knight and Superman: Year One have had amazing first issues and as long as they remain consistently good like Batman: Damned then this imprint will go down in history as one of the greats in prestige books. High recommend.

[bluboothalassophile]

Hi! Since you have stories with the batman beyond characters, i was wondering if you can include Max in one? Like just a story focusing on Terry and Max's friendship like if she's the friend he goes to when he needs to get away from his superhero friends or a story on how they met? Anything really. I like their friendship

Hello,

I think Max and Terry’s friendship is the best thing ever in Batman Beyond, I love it, especially since Terry seems to get the shaft where love interests are concerned. 

So, here’s a minor spoiler from the HfaB Universe, on how Terry and Max Gibson meet!

French Toast!

Terry McGinnis loved having a huge family. He loved it. Heloved having all those older siblings to turn to in his moment of need, andhaving younger siblings to look out for, and having nieces and nephews in hisage range so they were more like siblings than annoyances. He loved it. He alsoadored having a family that saved the world pretty much every other week, heliked that they were humans holding their own against meta humans, mere-people, aliens, gods,angels and demons, they were nothing special, just fighting the odds and theycommanded respect of the entire world. Also, B being a big time billionaire waspretty sweet as B had saved the world with WE.

However, his best friends; because all the kids in hisfamily at his age group, despite him being the eldest of the group, were GIRLS.That was… less fun. Girls were fussy, complicated, and full of emotions, theywere hard to understand and utter mysteries, however he was best friends withhis little sister, Helena, his ‘niece’ Lian Harper, and his other niece Mar'i Grayson.They’d grown up together since their time in diapers. Mom and all his oldersiblings had lugged them around, for stake outs, and parties, and play dates, he’dgrown up with binoculars in one hand and a batarang in another, and he lovedit. However, today was one such day that Terry found all the girls annoying.

Mar'i, Helena and Lian were all enamored with some new boyon their TV shows, and he just wasn’t interested. At twelve Terry was the oldestin their merry band of misfits, and he kind of was over it because the girlswere having a girl day, and he was stuck alone at lunch because of that.

It sucked having girls for friends sometimes. Especiallywhen they were family.

Terry looked up when there was a lunchbox across from himand a girl with sharp amber eyes and bright curly pink hair sat across fromhim.

“This spot isn’t taken right?” the girl asked nervously, shehad an odd, slightly flat voice that was entwined with the California laid backaccent.

“Nope,” Terry answered, picking at his food. Gotham Academywas a bunch of stuck up snobs so outside his family he didn’t bother makingfriends or alliances. He could totally kick all their asses too, Jay had taughthim a few moves that he knew Dad wouldn’t approve of but were useful to know.

“So…” the girl said nervously, and Terry sighed looking upat her. She was pretty, dark chocolate skin and squared features with sharpeyes, her mix heritage was obvious in her bone structure.

“I’m Terry, Terry McGinnis,” he said.

“I’m Max,” she smiled.

“You’re the new girl in my chemistry class,” he deduced. Hehadn’t paid attention in class today because he was arguing with Helena and Mar'iabout who would win a true fight; Loki vs. Dr. Strange and they had agreed theyneeded to ask Raven. Point was they hadn’t paid attention. That was the onlyclass he didn’t have with Lian too, so he was probably going to end up beingMax’s lab partner when things settled.

“You’re the boy surrounded by girls,” she said.

“Yeah, my sister and my niece and my best friend,” he saidwith a shrug.

“And you’re Wayne’s kid,” she said suddenly. His eyesnarrowed on her. “Why don’t you have his last name?”

“Just cause I don’t have B’s last name doesn’t mean I’m nothis kid. And Mom says it’s complicated,” Terry stated defensively.

“Whoa, whoa, I was just curious! Obviously, you’re Bruce’skid, you look just like him.”

“Thanks?” he said uncertainly.

“You go here long?”

“Yeah, since kindergarten, you’re a transfer though.”

“Yeah, my dad got a job for your dad and we moved here,” sheshrugged.

“Serious questions, what’s you’re favorite: Waffles orPancakes?” he demanded; the breakfast question was the best test for anyone hedecided if they were friends or not. Jay had taught him it’s significance, ithadn’t failed him yet.

“French Toast,” she answered. Terry frowned as he ponderedthat.

“Okay, we can be friends,” he decided.

“What’s breakfast have to do with being friends!?” Max sputtered.

“Obviously if you had something like crepes or cereal we couldnever be friends.”

“Dodgers or Yankees!?” Max glared.

“EW!” Terr grimaced. “If I have to choose past the Knightsthen I’m picking the Yankees, at least off them I’ll make money and Luci won’t curse me.”

“You’re weird,” Max stated.

“This from the girl with pink hair.”

“Pink seemed better than purple!” she snapped.

“True, true, pink is very fashionable, I’d think you were aLove Lantern,” he mused.

“You’re a superhero geek!” Max grinned in glee as she grabbedher bag and rummaged through it. Terry rolled his eyes; she had NO idea howmuch he loved superheroes. “Who’s your favorite!?”

“Batman,” he answered automatically; it was his family’smantle after all!

“Really!?” she sputtered.

“But Aquaman’s cool too, he talks to fish and controls theoceans! Oh and Wonder Woman, she’s amazing, and is all commanding!” Terry statedwith glee. “Superman is pretty sweet too, but take away his powers and he’snothing.”

“You like Wonder Woman!?” Max looked at him in awe.

“Obviously,” he rolled his eyes. “But she’s not as cool asCatwoman!” His mom was Queen of Cool. “Or Raven, or Spoiler, or Batgirl, orBluebird, or Orphan, or…” he started.

“You’re a big Batfamily lover?” Max giggled.

“Batfamily?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, yeah, they’re human and in Gotham, obviously they’rethe best,” he stated smugly. “Who do you like?”

“I like the Titans!” she smiled.

Terry blinked owlishly; someone actually liked Damian’s team!?A.J. was cool he supposed, Melvin hated Damian, Djinn and Crush were okay, Ireywas pretty cool, Jon was always chill, Don was weird, and blue boy was just odd,and Omen was wimpy.

“Yeah, Robin’s cool, and I like Aquaboy, they saved me once,”Max grinned. “When the tsunami was coming for San Diego,” she clarified.

“I saw that on the news!”

“Yeah! They were so cool!”

“Okay, we can be friends,” Terry decided.

“For real?”

“Yeah, you like the Bats, and French Toast!”

[batarella]

The Commander - Part 13 (Arkham Knight x Reader)

ANOTHER ONE OF MY FAVORITES. I had so much fun looking back at Arkham Knight playthroughs and following the flow of this scene. HOPE YOU ENJOY.

WORDS: 3648 WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR ARKHAM KNIGHT VIDEO GAME (CLOUDBURST SCENE) AND SOOOOO MUCH ANGST. I RECOMMEND WATCHING A PLAYTHROUGH IF YOU HAVEN’T PLAYED THE GAME 

Masterlist

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

------

“Commander Y/N.”

It was Scarecrow’s voice in her communicator. They’d just arrived at Gotham. By now, he should be at Ace Chemicals. “I’m in the middle of something, Crane.”

“I thought of what you can do, so your relationship with the Knight will not be such a… predicament…”

“I have no relationship with him.”

“Didn’t you and the Knight share an intimate moment at the Dark Knight’s cave?”

She almost dropped the gun, her mouth slightly parted but was too horrified to speak. She was in the middle of taking her men into their base at the department store. And even so, she stopped walking. “I told you. I have eyes.”

“What the hell do you want from me?”

“You control the Cloudburst tonight.”

“We reached that decision days ago, you dirt rag.”

Crane’s voice sounded like he breathed into her ear even closer.

“But it shall be the Arkham Knight that the Batman thinks is manning the tank.”

Her rifle almost dropped to the ground. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I am the kind of man who wants every possibility planned out.”

“Are you even a man, Crane?”

“The Batmobile is not what we’d expected.”

“Expected?”

“It’s much stronger. It’s destroyed a number of my drones just outside my station at Ace Chemicals.  Tell me, Commander, what happens if the Dark Knight manages to destroy the Cloudburst?”

She remembered. They had this perfectly planned out. She, Jason, Scarecrow, and Deathstroke all agreed on the same.

First, before anything else, they kidnap Barbara Gordon. If the Cloudburst fails to release the toxin, the Knight will go after the commissioner, James Gordon, who will by then be looking for the Arkham Knight after taking his daughter.

They will then use the Commissioner to gain them access into the Panessa Studios, which according to Jason, is one of Batman’s many hideouts. Whoever is in the studios that they can use to their advantage, they will take them.

It goes on from there.  The commissioner will then serve as a hostage to force Batman to surrender, if everything else falls into place.

“Kidnap the commissioner,” she said.

“The Dark Knight destroying the cloudburst has become more of a possibility than what we’ve thought, but as way to counter that, taking Batman himself, injecting that fear onto his bloodstream whilst I unmask him for the world to see, that does just as much damage to Gotham as my fear toxin.”

“And how am I supposed to help you with that?”

“I’m afraid your Knight has miscalculated. He needs far more than a few hours to get Gordon and hack into the studios. If Batman thinks it is the Arkham Knight manning the Cloudburst, he will no longer be looking for him after it has been destroyed. It will give us the time we need to kidnap Gordon and his allies,” he said.. “Otherwise, Batman will track the Knight down before we’ve done so much.”

“You seem to have these awfully planned out, Crane. For someone who thought the Cloudburst was such a prize.”

Crane let out an eerie, maniacal laugh beneath his breath.

“I am a very calculated man, Commander. Engulfing Gotham City in my reign of fear can only hold so long if the Batman continues to defend her. Unmasking him, humiliating him for the world to see, that will be the assurance I need so that the next time I release my toxin, I will be sure no one can stop me.”

She could almost feel Scarecrow’s syringes against her neck, and she stood stiff, her eyes locked onto the abandoned department store.

“It shouldn’t make much of a difference. So unless you make sure the Cloudburst isn’t destroyed, give your precious Knight the time he needs to succeed.”

Xxxxxx

The Cloudburst drove out from the tunnels.

She was alone, and the air in the cockpit was eerily cold. The Commander pulled out from one of the compartments something she’d prepared earlier that night.

A visor identical to the Arkham Knight’s.

If all else fails, at least Jason will still have a shot.

She took off her white mask, looked straight into the optics, then set it aside.

The visor was heavy, and it weighed on her neck so much she could topple at any more movement. And it was hot. Y/N had trouble to even breathe. She stretched her shoulders and pressed on her communicator, the one Jason gave her.

“Jason.”

Her voice. It sounded precisely like his. Filtered, unidentifiable, and foolproof.

“Where the hell did you get that visor?”

“Calm down. If I were you I’d take off your own visor. Batman only needs to see and hear mine.”

Their two voice were hurtful to hear on each ends of the communicator. She heard him take off his helmet, and with his real voice, he didn’t sound any happier.

“What are you trying to do, Commander?”

“Ask Scarecrow. This was his idea.”

She heard him curse, then his comms turned off and the Commander continued with maneuvering the tank out onto the streets. Out of Founder’s, and into Perdition Bridge. This will be where she releases the toxin.

There were street thugs, running out of the way, while still keeping their eyes on what was about to happen. Other than that, Gotham was empty. The Cloudburst paraded across the bridge.

“Do it,” she heard Scarecrow’s voice.

She closed her eyes, and all she could see was her uncle’s face.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Commander Y/N turned off the ventilation, made sure the oxygen tanks were in power, then signaled for the Cobra tanks to stand guard.

Her hand sweating on the lever, the Commander pulled on the cylinder, turned it exactly 50 degrees, then pushed.

The visor did much to mask the noise. But she was used to it. What she wasn’t used to was the explosion that came directly in front of her.

It was much like a bomb, and the massive blow of the toxin, in the form of smoke, tore up into the sky and sucked up any form of air in its way. It blew out all across her, over the water under the bridge and out into all three islands of Gotham. It was like a sandstorm, crushing anything in its path and engulfing the city in a hellish red cloud of the Scarecrow’s toxin.

And it didn’t take too long. The storm subsided, and when she looked up, all she could see was darkness.

No longer was there a blank sky above her. It was the toxin in the form of a heavily concentrated gas cloud that covered everything from the streets up to at least five stories. Everything below it, suffered its effects.

The same thugs that stared at the tank were now ripping each other’s flesh with their own teeth, their eyes white and the noises they made inhumane.

This was it. This was Gotham. This was the City of Fear.

Xxxxx

“Commander, a serpent drone has picked up a giant plant growing out of Founder’s Island.”

“A giant what?”

Quickly, she searched for the drone’s footage, and sure enough a plant the size of three towers stacked together sprouted out of the ground and had Batman’s car in its vines. “Son of a bitch.”

“Sergeant, there’s a weed grown tall in Divinity Churchyard,” she said to the drone controllers. “Cut it down.”

“Sending drones in now, sir.”

She opened her visor and pinched her nose. Scarecrow’s plan worked, as of now. Batman thinks it was the Knight in the Cloudburst and not her. And that plan might actually be of use, with the Dark Knight getting closer and closer to ending the toxin’s hold on the city.

Scarecrow was right. Again. She hated that man to the bone.

She kept on the footage of the Batmobile destroying each of her drones. “I own these streets, Dark Knight!” she said. One after the other, they exploded.

“He wiped them out sir,” the sergeant said over her comms. “We’re gonna need more tanks.”

“No. Now he needs to face me.” She called Batman.

“Commander. Make sure he doesn’t survive. Blow up his stupid car and kill him,” Jason said. She heard his breath heavy.

She’s never seen his face up close before, but there he was. The Dark Knight. Ready to face her to the death. “YOU WANNA FINISH THIS? COME TO BLEAKE ISLAND!”

Her hands gripping tightly on the controls. “Commander,” she heard Jason’s unfiltered voice. “He’s blocked off the bridges out of Bleake Island.”

“I’ll be okay. Batman doesn’t realize he’s going after the best markswoman in the world.”

And with that, she called for the cobra tanks to surround her, her hands gripping onto the handles to move the tank into the center of the island.

The Cloudburst’s optics circled slowly around the perimeter. She searched for any signature, any movement out of place. There was dead silence, and the sky the color of blood.

“We’ve lost a Cobra Tank. Sending support.”

She growled into her communicator. “IT’S OVER BATMAN. GOTHAM’S DEAD.” There was buzzing, like tires screeching. Her optics picked up movement, and she breathed, quick enough not to lose its sight. He was slightly peering into from a building on her right. She locked onto the target, firing her missile.

And like that, Deadshot became the first to hit the Batmobile. The damage wasn’t too much, but it was significant. “Good job, Commander. Keep firing at him. Make sure he doesn’t come out of this alive,” Jason said.

“Cobra tank down. Holding formation.”

She would have cursed if Scarecrow’s voice hadn’t interrupted her. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Finishing the job.”

It was the Arkham Knight’s voice. But it was Jason’s line on the other end. She just listened.

“This is not the plan we agreed upon.”

“It’s a plan that works. Scarecrow can choke on his toxin, Batman. I just want you dead,” Jason growled.

Then she switched onto Jason’s communicator. “Are you sure about this?”

“Just keep going, Commander. Do not back down. I trust you with this.”

Another. And another. Three Cobras down in less than a minute apart.

“JASON.”

“I SAID KEEP GOING. BLOW UP HIS TANK. KILL HIM NOW.”

She was alone. No longer with any more tanks to support her. She kept her optics rotating at a faster pace. Batman couldn’t be far. He should be here. Somewhere.

Breathe in. Breathe-

She screamed, her head almost hitting the wall when the tank blew up on the right side. Her coolant systems set off an alarm, the Batman had hit her. The Commander turned her optics to that direction, caught the Batmobile just before it sped off, then fired.

Another hit. But at such a cost. She amplified the three remaining coolant lines and sped down the roads. Y/N slowed her heartbeat, slowed her breaths, focused on the sight in front of her. Focused on what was far.

The tank exploded again. This time from the back. “Knight, he’s trying to overheat the tank.”

“THE ISLAND IS BLOCKED OFF. YOU HAVE NO CHOICE. I’M SENDING A SERPENT DRONE. KILL HIM.”

Those last two words, how she’s heard Jason say that to her more than just a few times.

The Commander turned her optics over to her side. He wasn’t there.

But she knew exactly where he was.

That road only led to one place. And on the other side was a dead end. He should pass by an alleyway in just a few moments. The Commander turned her launcher to that side, and waited.

Breathe. Follow the target. Keep breathing.

Her thumbs over the buttons, she kept her optics close. She waited and waited, facing the third coolant to that side to bait the Batmobile. There, he was coming closer.

The hood of the Bat’s tank, snaking to her side thinking she didn’t notice it. “FIRE,” she heard Jason scream into her ear.

She can end this now, it was much too easy. She pulled on the lever, her thumb hovering over the button. And then-

And then-

Uncle. He was at the front seat of the Batmobile. And he was looking at her. And he was so thin it didn’t even look like him anymore.

How many hundreds of lives has she taken?

How many thousands has she hurt?

How many daughters left without a father?

How many wives has she widowed?

How many millions will be left without hope?

How many in this city will suffer if she fires?

There have always been consequences, but none with stakes higher than this.

All that doubt, the guilt after pulling the trigger and leaving bodies left alone, it was all balled up in one. Crucial. Second.

The one second the Dark Knight needed.

Everything she’s worked for, trained for her whole life, thrown out into a deep dark hole. The Commander blindly fired at the Batmobile and slammed her head against the steel of the cockpit when the left side of the tank exploded.

And she had just one coolant left.

The alarms deafened her ears. And she was almost never deafened. It mimicked the panic of her heart racing, Jason’s voice violently screaming into her ear. The tank trembled immensely, and for once, she no longer knew what to do.

The Batmobile was alive. Somewhere in the island.

She missed.

She missed.

All the voices in her head. The Arkham Knight. Scarecrow. Deathstroke. Floyd Lawton. They all screamed at her. Her hands were shaking. She’s never missed a shot at anything for so long. Everything moved too fast, too strong for her to block off. She turned off her communicators, kept her heartbeat steady.

But she couldn’t hear Floyd’s voice any longer. He’d left her. And she was alone, shaking with the tank so close to giving out. She grabbed the handles and turned around.

Just for the Batman to fire at the last coolant. The one right at her front.

She hit her head. Again. Everything was too much of a blur. She couldn’t control her breathing, or her heart. She moved the cloudburst, finding someplace where the Bat couldn’t find her.

Five missiles locked onto her. The tank was barely holding up. Everything around her went red, and her head so painfully throbbing she couldn’t see or hear anything more.

She turned on her communicators.

“Jason…”

“I’M ON MY WAY, COMMANDER. STAY ALIVE.”

She heard him scream at Batman on the other end. And she felt three more missiles hit her from behind.

Sparks were emitting out of the Cloudburst and the whole tank was shaking off the ground. It no longer moved.

And she could smell it. The toxin. It was the worst thing she’s ever breathed in her whole life. The Commander clawed on her own throat, begging for some air. She hurried up the hatch, fighting the pain in her own head. She collapsed on the tank before she could breathe anything more.

Everything was dark. And her nightmares flashed like speeding pictures projected onto a screen.

There were ghosts, floating above and around her, mauling her body and pulling her up where she could no longer stand. And she couldn’t move. There were birds, screeching into her ear, and their claws were so sharp she could feel them scratch at her open flesh, pulling out her skin. And they flew over her fast, circling around her.

At the farthest end of the sky, something so miniscule, yet so visible. It was speeding right towards her and she could do so much as move her head to narrowly avoid it. It shined a glistening silver and it was burning. Y/N could just feel how hot it was from the speed. It was a bullet.

Being on the other side of the gun. That was what she feared the most.

Bullets entered her bloodstream, too many for her to count. Onto her chest, her stomach, her arms, her legs, her neck, her spine, her face. Every hit pierced through her like a thick needle and it froze her muscles at they made contact with her body. She screamed, a horrifying scream. Some settled on her flesh, on her skin, some resting on her head. She could feel the bullets enter her, her own blood spilling and her nerves so close to giving out. Every inch of her being tugged into a stinging burst, and the cold metal the bullets almost froze her muscles.

Y/N’s spine was hit, and she couldn’t feel anything on her lower body, even when so many bullets pierced her foot, she’d never be able to walk anyways. Her bones were shattered and her face, ruined by the explosives landing right at her cheeks.

She was laying on the ground. Y/N couldn’t move.

She’s seen this happen. And she’s caused this kind of pain to so many others.

Now she knows what it was like.

She screamed, openly at the abyss, at the birds flying above her like a tornado and her own voice painfully tugging at her throat. She saw Floyd, staring at her, and she couldn’t stop screaming.

Over. And over. And over.

She felt something carrying her up a rooftop, and the Batman crashing to the ground beside her. Her lungs gave out just as she saw the Arkham Knight get to her, leaving the Bat on the ground.

Xxxxxx

One. Two. Three.

One. Two. Three.

One. Two. Three.

She was unconsciously counting in her head. Just up to three, then she’d trail back to where she started.

It was like a knife was stabbing at her temple and went out the other side. Handle and all. Y/N felt her eyes about to open, but she wanted them still closed. She didn’t want to look if she was dead. Or worse, alive and hunted.

Everyone will be out to kill her.

Y/N’s eyes shot open.

She was in a room she didn’t know. And it was dark.

The department store. The Arkham Knight Headquarters. In an abandoned furniture store where none of her soldiers were staying in. It was small, barely enough for a closet, a dining table, and a couch, which was where she was lying on.

She had an oxygen mask strapped to her mouth. And every part of her ached when she sat up. But her body wasn’t ruined. She wasn’t shot. Only the sides of her arms and her head were bruised when she’d hit the cockpit walls in the tank after it exploded.

After she lost.

The door open. And the man that went inside looked out for anyone following him.

“Jason…”

He hurriedly shut the door. “Don’t fucking speak. If anyone finds you here, you're dead.”

Y/N immediately looked away. He didn’t even look at her. Jason pulled the visor off his head and placed it on the table, along with a large duffel bag.

He had his eyes closed shut.

“Jason, his tank was nothing like we’d expecte-“

“Shut up.”

She choked, looking straight at the wall.

“You knew how much he hurt me.”

Y/N hugged her chest, but even that was too painful to do. She just laid on the couch and looked up at the ceiling.

“You knew how much I want him dead.”

“I…”

“I SAID SHUT UP.”

She stilled, feeling her wrists quake.

“I told Scarecrow you didn’t survive. Just so he wouldn’t come after you. Then I watched the footage on the Cloudburst…”

“I’m sorry-“

“You missed,” he cried. “He got away because you missed.”

It was something else other than her own hand holding her chest so tightly, because it was so painful she could feel it twist.

“All this would’ve been okay if I DIDN’T KNOW YOU NEVER MISSED A SHOT.”

His fist slammed against the wall. And the hole was large enough to almost collapse the ceiling above it.

“I TRUSTED YOU!”

He was screaming. Never mind what he said about being quiet.

And it dawned on her. Jason didn’t want Y/N on the Cloudburst, and she thought it was because he wanted her safe. That it would be too much for her.

But he wanted to be on the Cloudburst so he could guarantee Batman would be dead. It was never about her.

Stupid. Fucking stupid.

“That means that somewhere there,” he pointed at her head. “Somewhere, you felt guilty about all this. You hesitated. YOU HESITATED. Of all the times I’ve asked you to kill, YOU HESITATED WHEN IT MEANT THE MOST. YOU KNOW HOW MUCH HE’S MADE ME SUFFER. AND YOU JUST LET HIM LIVE.”

Jason knelt on the ground, and her muscles were too sore to move. She forced herself up, trying to reach for his head, but he pushed her hands away and she winced at the pain. ‘I love you,’ she whispered, but only on her own. ‘I would never let him hurt you again.’

Floyd’s protégé.

The Militia Commander.

Deadshot.

The machine she was raised to be. The assassin with the best aim. The world renowned.

Crying helplessly like a spineless nobody.

She wasn’t the best marksman in the world. She was nothing. Y/N failed at the most important job she’s ever been given.

“He thought it was me in that tank. We had just enough time to get Gordon.”

His voice was blank. He didn’t see much in her anymore. Y/N could tell by the look on his eyes. Jason dropped a large duffel bag on the ground in front of her.

“One point five million dollars. Take it and get out of here.”

He threw her white mask and gun optics on top of the bag. The tears wouldn’t stop pouring out of her. But she was no longer screaming. She looked blankly out in the open and heard the door shut.

And just like that, she lost everything.

-----

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

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[thebatmarino]

The DCEU’s next Batman should be played by Dick Grayson

Batman and Robin.  Words that have gone together like Peanut Butter and Jelly for around 80 years.  Everybody in the world knows that Batman’s younger sidekick is Robin. Many know that Robin is Dick Grayson, fewer know that Dick grew up to become Nightwing, and even fewer still that he has spent time as Batman. With the recent activity in DC film, I want to talk about my favorite superhero, what makes him great, and most importantly, why I believe Dick Grayson is the answer to the DCEU’s Bat situation. To start, we’re going to rewind to 1940, when Robin was introduced to the world in Detective Comics #38.

Batman was created in 1939.  A grim figure of the night, Batman spoke very little, a trait that has held through to this day. At the time however, legend has it that Bill Finger and Bob Kane were tired of drawing thought bubbles for him, so they needed to give him someone to talk to.  But who? Well, Batman was a Sherlock Holmesian figure, it was Detective Comics after all, so they needed to give him a Watson.  A character who’s intelligent, capable, and a proxy for the readership so they can join Batman on his adventures. The readership at the time (target readership, we know girls love and read comics too, but this was 1940) was 12 year old boys, and who might they look up to? Robin Hood starring Errol Flynn came out in 1938, he seems pretty cool. And a Robin keeps up the motif of flying animal that Batman started.  And there you have it, Robin the Boy Wonder was born.

The creation of Robin is also the birth of the Teenage Sidekick. Since then, every teen sidekick from Bucky to Kid Flash owes a debt to the creation of Robin.  As more and more sidekick characters populated the comic scene, something happened at DC Comics in particular that is one of my favorite things about the brand: the idea of Legacy Characters.

Consider the Justice League for a moment. Let’s look at the big 6: Wonder Woman, Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, Flash, and Aquaman.  These characters are the Greek Gods reborn.  They are iconic, they are mythological.  Each one of them proudly displays a symbol that they adhere to.  “I believe in love and equality”, “There is hope for everyone”, “I will drag myself through Hell for justice”, “by force of will, I will overcome all fear to save the world”, “I will always make time to help people”, “I will be the great uniter of disparate people”, or whatever you interpret the thesis of these characters to be. They are perfect embodiments.  The problem with perfection is that real people can’t attain that.  We can try.  We can stumble and fall. And that is exactly what the Legacy Characters attempt to be. These characters are absolute representations in ways that humans are generally not. They are aspirational.  That’s why there’s merchandise out the wazzu (do people still say that?), so you can see a person on the street with that Green Lantern symbol and know that person wants to overcome fear.

Dick Grayson was the first.  For many years Dick was happily Robin, going on strange adventures with Batman and friends, whupping ass in green short pants. He even formed a team of sidekicks, known as the Teen Titans along with Wonder Girl, Kid Flash, Aqualad, and Speedy.  All teenagers struggling to live up to their “parents”.  These perfect people who’s symbols they have taken as their own and sworn to uphold.  Then something interesting happened.  In 1984, in Tales of the Teen Titans #44, Dick Grayson debuted his Nightwing persona.

Dick Grayson had been growing up.  Which is a thing yet again, never done in comics before.  For some time now, a rift had been growing between the Dark Knight and his Squire. Dick had gone off to college, formed his own super-team, and was going through the typical growing pains of a young person trying to step out on their own. No longer feeling the identity of his 12 year old fancies were fitting, he picked an adult, darker name that still reflected and honored where where he came from (the origins of this name are toyed with and retconned, but the connections between Bats and Wings of the Night cannot be denied).

As Nightwing, Dick Grayson was his own man, ran his life and heroics how he saw fit, and most importantly, didn’t answer to Batman.  Until Knightfall happened.  In the events of this story, Bane broke Bruce’s spine, resulting in Bruce choosing a man named Jean-Paul Valley as the new Batman.  Jean-Paul went nutso and nearly killed Bane and begun a reign of hyper-vigilante terror in Gotham, so Bruce badassed his way back to walking because comic books, and whupped his ass.  Before restoring himself as the one true Batman, Bruce asked the one man qualified in all the world to take up the mantle to do so: Dick Grayson.  Yet again, we have a comic book first: a legacy character fulfilling their legacy. This didn’t last long however, Bruce did what he had to do, and Dick dutifully (and reluctantly) filled in as long as required.

Nightwing then got a brilliant solo series by Chuck Dixon and Scott McDaniel, which to this day is probably the most influential run on the character. Before we move on in his publication history though, I think it’s important to understand WHO Dick is, and WHY he is.  After all, what makes this 12 year old boy so special that he becomes Batman’s right hand man in a war on crime?

Richard John Grayson, aka Dick, was born to John and Mary Grayson of the legendary Flying Graysons of Haly’s Circus.  The reason they were legendary was because they flew without the safety of a net.  Dick grew up on the trapeze with no net.  No fear, no cares in the world, except being a child star performer. After a mob boss tries to unsuccessfully extort money from the circus, they murder the Graysons by tampering with the trapeze before Dick’s very eyes. The young orphan was observed by another orphan in the crowd, Bruce Wayne, who took him in.  It wasn’t really successfully explained why a 12 year old seemed okay to take out fighting crime until the two part episode of Batman: The Animated Series, Robin’s Reckoning. Like a young Bruce, Dick was consumed with his parents’ murder.  Each night, unfulfilled by the guardianship of an absentee Bruce Wayne, Dick would sneak out and try to track down leads on his parents’ killer.  Eventually he got in over his head and Batman bailed him out and returned him to the Batcave. This boy knew no fear.  He would return to the streets night after night.  He would get himself killed.  Unless he was trained how to not die by a certain… bat themed expert at not-getting-killed-by-criminal-scum.  Bruce revealed his identity to Dick, which also explained why he was busy so much of the time, and in the Batcave, Dick swore an oath by candlelight to uphold justice and everything Batman stood for. The training was gruelling. Probably inhumane. But eventually Dick was allowed to accompany Batman on the streets as his sidekick.

Dick Grayson was saved by Bruce Wayne. Where Bruce was in uncharted territory sorting his rage, vengeance, and pain, Dick Grayson had a guide.  A Mentor.  Someone who had been exactly where he was, and could keep him from being consumed by darkness.  And that’s reflected in their uniforms.  The bright boy and the dark man. Adding to that, the Wayne’s murderer got away. There will be no vengeance or justice for Batman, just a gaping wound.  Dick got justice for his parents. He saw that what they did worked, and that he could keep doing it for other people.  Whereas Batman is driven by a desire to hurt those who hurt others, Dick is here to help.  That’s something Tom King wrote into his character over and over during his run, the words “how can I help”.  And if you look at the jobs he’s held down since striking out on his own: Police Officer, Guidance Counselor, Personal trainer, even bartending at a cop bar where he could give these guys relief (as well as pick up some leads) are all acts of service towards others.  Which when the time came, made him a very different Batman.

The time eventually came.  Bruce Wayne was “dead” (as dead as anyone is in comics), and Gotham City was in chaos. Initially Bruce left instructions for Dick not to become Batman. Because Nightwing was strong enough.  He was his own man and Bruce believed in what he was doing.  However, Gotham needs Batman, the symbol.  And for the first time truly, not just putting on the cape and cowl, but deep in his bones, Dick Grayson became Batman. Fulfilling the legacy.  He is not Bruce Wayne, just like we cannot be Bruce Wayne, but he can do his best to live up to what the symbol of The Batman means to him, just like us.  Which brings me to where Dick Grayson is the future of the cinematic Batman franchise.

Over the last few years, we are experiencing a massive shift in how our male heroes are percieved.  In the 80s which gave birth to Dark Knight Returns, a huge influence on the DCEU Batman, we saw a trend of hypermasculinity in our heroes.  They were JACKED, strong, fearless, .50 Cal from the hip, Macho Men, stoic badasses that were too busy punching out teeth and blowing shit up to feel sissy-ass feelings.  And that is where Batman has lived for years in comic continuity. He doesn’t say I love you, he doesn’t hug, he doesn’t feel feelings, he’s a rage-powered badass dressed all in black that kicks in criminals’ kneecaps because he probably kind of likes it.  At the end of the day, you read enough of these comics and question whether or not Batman is actually a good man. Is he doing this to save the day, or inflict pain? Probably some of both.

As we survey the current landscape of masculinity, of heroism, of feminism, it’s important to question our heroes. It’s important to question, is this the ideal that we want people to strive for? In Batman V. Superman: Dawn of Justice, we saw that Frank Miller Dark Knight Returns in all his glory.  In my opinion, Ben Affleck’s portrayal of Batman was my favorite thing about that film. He was deliciously brutal, he was stubborn in his righteousness, he was extreme in his methodology, he was....murdering people? He was losing himself.  He was so caught up in his need for violence, his need for war that he attempted to murder superman with a freaking spear. I suspect Justice League was intended to have a more redemptive arc for the demon he had become, but in any case, he has still become a monster.  He has dwelled in hell so long that he has become the very type of devil he sought to destroy.

The best thing for Bruce Wayne would be to leave this life behind somehow. Pass the cowl on to the man who he trained for this very purpose. A hero that exemplifies modern healthy masculinity.  Who can say “I love you”, who wants to seek justice more than vengeance, who can maintain healthy friendships and relationships, who believes in kindness, friendship, and laughter.  I think it is time for Dick Grayson to take his place in cinematic history as Batman.

That doesn’t even touch upon the fact that the DCEU Batman is around 45 years old.  While incredible and imaginative, they’ve set him at a natural age to retire from jumping off rooftops and withstanding repeated head trauma. If you look at Batman as a pro athlete, you simply do not see them at his age and doing tremendously well.  Which when your sport is dodging gunfire and acting as bait for super aliens so other super aliens can clobber them, is not great.  I think DC Entertainment is looking for ways to have a more youthful Batman, and I believe Dick Grayson is part of that natural path.

And that doesn’t mean we won’t have Bruce Wayne stories.  As the news has just dropped, Matt Reeves is telling his own young Bruce tales.  But as far as the Batman that stands shoulder to shoulder with Wonder Woman, and Superman?  Here we have a young man in Dick Grayson coming into his own as a hero on the world’s stage, just like Diana and Clark.  A young man with the strategic mind of Batman, the physical training, the gadgets, resources, but without the blinding rage, pain, and cynicism.  A superhero that looks at the world and wants to genuinely help people. Not out of a deep psychological need to harm those who harmed him, but because he was broken and then saved, and he can do that for other people.  Being a good person is all the superpower you need. As a culture, I believe those are the heroes we need right now. And as for Dick Grayson, he’s a born showman, and I think it’s time for him to take the stage.