#dick gryason wayne

[captainsophiestark]

Unexpected Guest

Dick Grayson x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: Dating a vigilante sometimes leads to a few false alarm scares, but Dick Grayson couldn't be happier with how well his partner rolls with his crazy family.

Word Count: 1,410

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Crash!

My eyes shot open at the sound of a noise from the living room of the apartment I shared with my boyfriend, Dick Grayson. The man in question still snored peacefully next to me, annoyingly, but a quick glance at the clock told me why. It wasn't quite 5am, and Dick had been out patrolling until one in the morning. I listened carefully for any other noises in the apartment. I didn't want to wake my poor boyfriend up unless I absolutely had to.

After a few minutes of nothing, I heard another crash followed by a tense voice and what sounded like hushed swearing. This time, I didn't hesitate to roll over and whack Dick on the chest, hard.

His eyes shot open and he was half sitting up when I managed to throw a hand over his mouth to keep him from giving away that we were awake. My wide eyes must've tipped him off to something being wrong, because I immediately saw him shift from sleepy to ready for action.

Slowly, I dropped my hand from his mouth and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"There's someone in our living room. I heard two crashes and someone swearing."

Dick nodded once, then motioned with his hands while mouthing 'stay here'. He hopped off the bed, grabbing his escrima sticks from where he'd thrown them onto the dresser, then stalked towards the door with catlike grace and stealth. After a minute, I decided I couldn't just let him go alone, superhero or no, so I grabbed the bat I kept by my side of the bed and followed after him.

Dick popped out the door, and after a moment without hearing anything, I followed, bat at the ready. I found my boyfriend with one hand on his hip, weapons down, staring into the kitchen. I followed his gaze to find none other than Jason Todd in our kitchen, a mixing bowl and some eggs in front of him and a look with a significant lack of guilt on his face.

"What? I was after somebody and it dragged me all the way to Bludhaven. I needed a place to crash that was closer than Gotham."

Dick and I both shook our heads. As the oldest of a very high number of siblings, his apartment had become a second home base for every single other batkid. When we'd finally moved in together last month, he'd warned me I needed to be prepared for things like this.

"Glad you know to help yourself, Little Wing," said Dick with a sigh, waving one tired hand to Jason before turning and heading back to bed. I squeezed his shoulder and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he passed me, then headed into the kitchen with a smile.

"My tax for you making me think I'd have to fight off an assailant with a bat at five in the morning is my own serving of whatever you're making," I said, taking a seat on one of the kitchen island stools. Jason raised an eyebrow at me.

"You're not going back to bed?"

"Nah. Unlike Dick, I got to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour last night, so the adrenaline dump isn't threatening to put me to sleep. I'd rather hang out with you, especially since you're a better cook than Dick and I combined. I'm not missing out on that."

Jason snorted, cracking an egg and resuming his cooking all the same.

"Dick contributes nothing to your combined cooking score," he said. "I'm pretty sure he's burned cereal before."

I laughed. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're right. He's gotten better though. We watch the Food Network and look up recipes to make together, and I can trust him with way more than I used to be able to."

"If you could teach him anything it'd be a miracle," said Jason with a snort. I just hummed, trying to pick up some new skills of my own as I watched Jason cook.

"To be totally fair to him, I once forgot what I was doing and strained soup because I was on autopilot for pasta."

Jason barked a laugh, unable to hold himself back, and looked at me with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"Really?" I nodded. "That's pathetic."

I just shrugged. "Yeah. But at least there's not a lot of places to go but up, after that."

"I guess so."

Jason and I chatted as he cooked and I watched, keeping our voices low so Dick could sleep—although, after the night he'd had, he'd probably sleep through a train in our living room. After breakfast, Jason decided to go down for a nap on the couch, passing out almost as soon as we'd put the last few dishes in the sink. I just smiled, threw a blanket over him, and wandered back into the bedroom to find Dick.

It was late enough in the morning now that my boyfriend was officially up and about, stretching by the bed with his hair still a little messed up from sleeping. I grinned and flopped down against the headboard as he crossed the room to the dresser to pull out clothes.

"How's Jaybird?" he asked. "Still a good cook?"

"Still a great cook. And he's good. He seems a little wiped out from patrols and stuff, though. He's taking a nap on the couch right now."

Dick smiled and shook his head. "I get up and he goes to sleep. Typical."

"Clearly he's avoiding you."

"Clearly."

Dick and I shared a smile, and then he sighed.

"I'm going to take a shower. Hopefully Jason will be up by the time I'm out, because I actually have things to do today."

I smiled, shifting on the bed to pull the covers over myself. "I'm sure you can be quiet if he's not. Wake me up when you're out of the shower, okay? A post-breakfast nap sounds too good to resist right now."

My boyfriend laughed. "Alright, will do. I'll wake you and Jason up when I'm out."

"Mhm. Good luck with him."

"Thanks, I'm gonna need it."

I closed my eyes, getting comfortable and ready for my nap, but before I drifted off I heard Dick's shuffling footsteps crossing the room to stand by my side of the bed. A second later, he sat down next to me, the bed dipping under his weight. I cracked an eye open to squint at him.

"What do you want?"

He grinned at me and chuckled.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to interfere with your nap. I just... I wanted to say how much I appreciate you, and how good you are with my family. They mean the world to me, but I know having vigilantes dropping in at all hours of the day and night can be a little much to deal with. So thank you for being so wonderful about it, and about them."

I sighed, sitting all the way up and propping myself up on my hands to look Dick in the eye.

"Dick, I love you. And I love your family. Sure, it took a little getting used to some of the vigilante stuff, but the longer I know them the more I love them. You don't have to thank me for anything. They're my family too."

Dick absolutely beamed at me, wrapping one arm around my back and pulling me in for a kiss. I immediately reciprocated, tangling one hand in the hair at the nape of his neck. I smiled into the kiss and a moment later, Dick deepened it. We were right on the edge of escalating into something more, but both thought better of it at the last moment.

"I should take a shower," he said, still looking a little reluctant as he pulled away.

"Yeah, and you should stop interrupting my nap."

Dick snorted, rolling his eyes as he finally stood and headed for the bathroom. I grinned after him as he went, flopping back down onto my pillow only as Dick closed the bathroom door.

I took a deep breath and sighed, a smile on my face, as I closed my eyes for the second time. I heard the water start in the bathroom, and a faint smell of breakfast still hung in the air. I was surrounded by people I loved dearly, and who loved me right back. No matter the scare Jason had given me when he'd shown up, I couldn't ask for a better start to my morning than this.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

DC Taglist: @luv-ghostie

[crimsonkingart]

Third Day: Courting Ritual 🖤💙 My hand slipped and OOOPS, there are ropes. (In this house we believe in reciprocal bites) Uncensored on Tw and Ao3 Not explicitly sexual content, but Ig and Tumblr policies are a nuts in the ass*

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober 2021 - October 1 - Bound

Fandom: Nightwing, Batman - All Media Types

AO3

Warnings: Kidnapping, Panic Attacks, Isolation, mentions of IV/needles

---

It’s been hours since Dick’s woken up… here.

“Here” is hard to describe, yet incredibly easy. He can say for sure that at least within the 180 degrees ahead of him, it’s all white. White walls that, if arranged in a mirrored-image behind him, might make a hexagon. The ceiling above him is bright and unforgiving, LED lights dotting the space above him like freckles on Barbara’s cheeks and shoulders. He can’t see any sign of a door ahead of him, and the gray-speckled white tiles that make the floor aren’t particularly enjoyable to look at.

Yeah, describing what he can see about the room is the easy part. The hard part is that behind him? It’s all guess-work. For all he knew, there could be nothing behind him, or a cliff, or… or something ridiculous. There could be a whole manner of things behind him, but it’s impossible for him to get a look because his head is strapped to the cushioned chair he’s forced to sit on.

He hates this. It’s been hours. The chair, while cushioned, isn’t even that comfortable. The way his arms lay on the armrests and his feet come together near the end of the chair suggests a dentist’s chair and a therapist’s sofa had an evil love-child who was into bondage, considering how many straps were buckled in to keep him trapped down.

He’s going to lose his mind. Did he really just make a bondage joke about a chair?!

Anyway, he’s stuck here, his arms pinned down by the wrists, elbows, and under his armpits. Two heavy straps run over each shoulder and cross in the middle of his chest to connect back to the chair near his hips. And speaking of hips, there’s another strap around them too like an old Volkswagen seat belt. More straps around his thighs, knees, and ankles keep his legs locked together and down. That’s not even mentioning the binds that lock around his neck or the one around his forehead that’s fitted to the headrest that seems designed to not let him even attempt to rotate his chin to the side.

It’s horrible, and awful, and cruel, and unusual, and he’s not even that sure why he’s here. All he can tell is that he has a massive headache, his Nightwing mask is on but his suit is gone—replaced by some sort of nightgown that definitely doesn’t seem friendly, and whenever he tenses his arm he can feel a tug in his wrist.

Must be an IV of some sort? It’s strange though, from what he can see he can’t see any medical equipment hanging around him. But it has to be an IV. With his night job, he’s become familiar with the way his lips go dry and how his fingers tremble when the damn needle gets put in his arm.

But… if it is an IV, it must need changing by now, surely. It’s been hours, and those things don’t last that long.

Hours. Sitting here with the feeling of a needle in his arm, not sure where he is or what he’s doing here, nothing to look at besides those Barbara Gordon freckles on the ceiling and those gray speckles on the tile.

He tugs on the restraints for what must be the thousandth time, and growls when nothing happens, as unsurprising it is. All his attempts to slip out of or break the restraints have left him with nothing but bruising and irritated skin. However, he feels so restless and bored out of his mind that tugging on the belts seems to be the only productive thing his brain can think of to do.

He tugs again, and nothing happens. He sighs. Relaxes back. And… tries to think of how he got into this mess.

It’s just as successful as breaking the straps.

-o-o-o-o-

“Okay, I’ll bite,” he calls out to nothing. His eyes hurt, he’s exhausted, he needs to pee and that’s something he doesn’t want to deal with. “What do you want from me, eh?”

Silence. His hands bunch in angry fists and he pulls against the straps hard enough for him to feel the edge bite into his skin.

“Batman’s identity?” He tries, because it’s always about Batman’s Identity (TM). When there isn’t any answer, he continues. “Police secrets?” Nothing. “Superman’s identity?”

Nothing. He growls and glares at the empty walls ahead of him.

-o-o-o-o-

He’s using the pain in his wrists, focusing on the warmth running down the cuts the straps have finally created, instead of the pressure in his bladder.

It only lasts so long.

Great, so now he’s bored out of his mind, stuck, and the room smells horrible. Or, the room smells horrible until whatever unseen vent takes away the reek and the chair dries, leaving him being the only one who’s smelling.

He hates this. He hates this. He hates this.

He jerks against every restraint and snarls in impatience and restlessness. He can feel the cuts tear more, but he’s close to not caring, he longs to move.

If his snarling eventually fades into howls, then he’s almost positive no one is around to hear it other than himself.

-o-o-o-o-

Bruce’s cape settles around his feet as he lands, launching droplets of questionable sewage water up to his knees. Damian lands beside him, the whites of his domino mask narrowed in fierce determination.

It’s been nothing but a series of long hours since the Riddler kidnapped Dick with the clues to his whereabouts left carved into the pavement with abandoned Wing-Dings. During Bruce’s search, a few things became apparent: Dick was trapped, alone, and Bruce had until Dick died from malnourishment once the crude IV he was apparently attached to ran out. Riddler is already behind bars, has been for several hours, but interrogation wont get him to give up his games, and Bruce may be a vigilante and “above the law”, but he wont stoop so low as to torture.

At least, not until things get desperate and Damian’s not around to see. Dick would never forgive Bruce, and will probably never talk to him even in any kind of afterlife.

But it hasn’t come to that, Tim solved the riddle through emails delivered from wherever he’s located with his Young Justice friends. They’re always changing spots, and even if Tim were to come home and solve the riddles in person, it would probably be too late.

It isn’t too late, he reminds himself as Damian takes off down the sewers. They know Dick’s exact coordinates. Bruce almost kicked himself when Tim revealed them, because of course lead to Gotham’s abandoned sewage system.

The way to Dick’s location is a tough one, one riddled (as Dick would say) with traps. But they’re nothing compared to a worried father and a determined brother. They find the door nudged neatly behind a section of brick, and when Bruce opens it he’s almost blinded by the night vision in his lenses adjusting to the sudden attacks of bright lights.

Bruce sees before he hears. His eyes were always one of his favorite senses, which is probably why Damian—a boy who’s had to hear to save his life many times—ran to the chair in the middle of the hexagon-shaped room before him. White walls, white tile, white LED’s to sit in a white ceiling. The back of a padded chair in the center of the room faces him, revealing nothing of what it contains.

And then Bruce hears the screaming. Weak, clawing screaming that sounds like what sandpaper would feel on dry skin. He knows this scream, the tones to it, and within moments he’s running to the front side of the chair with Damian.

Dick’s there… writhing. Blood stains skin and cloth around almost every strap holding him down from struggling that must have been continuing for hours. As Damian tears an IV—the tube feeding him nutrients disappears within the chair; there must be some sort of mechanism keeping it working within its structure—Dick’s struggles like he doesn’t notice the change. His eyes are squeezed shut, tears drip down his cheeks, and his screams are so so hard to listen to. Does he even know they’re here?

“Dick,” Bruce says, knowing there’s no one to hear him with Riddler behind bars and his goons scattered. Dick doesn’t respond, just continues to yowl like a wounded stray cat. Already, Bruce can see the symptoms of prolonged use of an IV and of exhaustion. Has Dick slept at all since being kidnapped?

Damian begins work on one of the straps around Dick’s jerking wrists. Bruce follows suit, quickly, desperately wanting to get his eldest out of here, but he’s forced to abandon his task when the loosened strap on Damian’s side allows Dick to tug his wrist free and move to hit the boy. Bruce catches his hand before the hit can be met.

“LET ME GO!” Dick screeches.

“Dick, we’re helping you,” Bruce shouts back wearily, but Dick doesn’t listen as he begins to babble all kinds of demands similar to let me go. Bruce gives Damian a look. “He’s exhausted and most likely delusional. Our best course of action would be for me to hold him down, and you undo the rest of the straps. Maybe we can get to him without having to risk drugging him once he’s no longer restrained.”

Damian looks all parts of his age as he takes a second to give a shockingly vulnerable stare Dick’s way. The vulnerability only lasts a moment before Damian’s nodding. “Got it.”

The next several minutes are filled with events that will reveal themselves in bruises with the coming days, even through the kevlar. It’s tough work keeping a Dick Grayson down, especially when it’s a Dick Grayson who absolutely refuses to be kept down in the first place. However, eventually they release the last strap around Dick’s other wrist and soon enough, both Bruce and Damian are jumping back and Dick launches himself out of the chair, stumbling to the floor and then falling to his ass when his knees give out. Dick looks pitiful, trapped between wanting to curl up and cry or stand up and run, yet curling up seems to win out as Dick must have no energy to lift himself back up.

“Dick,” Bruce calls again when Dick’s hoarse breathing calms, and this time, hope flutters into his belly when Dick’s shoulder’s tense in response.

“… B…?” comes a horribly weak response, but a response nonetheless. Bruce rushes around the damned chair to where his eldest still sits, curled up and shaking. He reaches out unconsciously, kneeling down to scoop Dick up in an embrace, but stops when Dick violently flinches away.

“Don’t touch me,” he whimpers, “just- I don’t- I couldn’t move-” he breaks into sobs.

Bruce is almost considering returning to Arkham and breaking a few bones. Instead, he lowers his voice and speaks as calmly as he can.

“I understand. But we have to get you back home. Just your arm around my shoulder, and I’ll support you while you walk. Can you do that?”

It’s proof of just how shaken Dick is when it takes a few moments to get a hesitant nod.

Bruce does his best to ignore Dick’s flinching and twitching while, with permission, Bruce helps Dick up and wraps his arm exactly where Bruce said he would. Damian stands a few paces off, looking torn. Bruce tells him to run ahead and bring the bat-mobile closer to the sewer opening while Dick blinks owlishly and gulps like a fish… doing his best to keep down what must be a pending panic attack. Damian thankfully leaves without much argument, and Bruce is left to help his eldest, hyperactive, always moving, always smiling, always stimming in some way or another son out the blasted room and towards freedom with as much control given over to Dick as possible.

“I scared Dami,” Dick whispers through clenched teeth, halfway through the sewage tunnels.

Bruce hums and resists tightening his grip on Dick’s arm. “It’s not your fault. He will not hold it against you.”

“I scared you.”

“… I was scared for you. But right now the only thing that matters is getting you home. Then everything can return to normal”

Dick nods his head, his voice choking in what must be another sob. “Okay,” he whispers, “okay.”

And Bruce silently vows to punch Riddler a little harder the next time he sees him.

But right now, the only thing he cares about is that Dick’s alive, and Bruce is bringing him home.

[superhero--imagines]

A/N: I liked this request so much, I’m making it into a (short) series. Maybe three/four parts. This is mostly going to be a comedy, so feel free to leave any critiques you have in the comments! If you want to be tagged for the series just lmk!

You met Nightwing first. You were a hostage during a bank robbery that had gone bad. Not that you were worried, you were sure any second now a superhero would come bursting through that door to save the day.

This is the third time this week you’ve been inconvenienced by a villain. You pull out your textbook. All these villains are really starting to get in the way of your study schedule.

If you’re going to be stuck here for a while, you might as well catch up on studying for your test. You can’t have read more than ten pages when Nightwing comes bursting down from the ceiling.

Hooray, at long last your hero has arrived.

You’re about to pack up your things and get ready to leave when you notice someone’s holding a book out to you.It’s Nightwing in all his glory, scanning the cover of you book.

He looks younger than you had thought, in fact you can even see a few dots of acne on the sides of his face. He’s so close you can smell his aftershave too.

“Gotham university? Cool! I go th-“ suddenly his mouth clamors shut. “I-I mean, it’s really good to see more woman getting a good education and developing themselves” it’s a weird compliment, especially considering women in this city tend to be more educated than men considering the Wayne Foundation’s work. But you don’t want to make a big deal out of it.

“Thanks” You take your book back and head on your way. It’s only later that night when you’re about to wind down for the night finishing the chapter you started during the bank robbery, that you notice Nightwing autographed the cover

“What does he expect me to do? Tear of the cover and frame it?” You shake your head, but you can’t help but laugh. What a funny man.

You meet Dick Grayson shortly after. Well, meet is the wrong word. You’d say it was more like Dick Grayson met you.

You always knew of him, everyone did. He’s the school’s golden boy after all. All dimpled smiles, and shiny baby blue eyes, he had a legion of women trailing after him everywhere he went.

A golden boy who, for some reason chose to sit next to you in the 10 a.m lecture course, abandoning his usual spot surrounded by his fan girls.

You usually sit in the middle, not too close, and not to far. An inconspicuous place, for a person who doesn’t want to attract too much attention.

“Woah is that Nightwing‘s autograph?” The golden boy’s grinning as he looks at your text book. You can feel the eyes bore into you. “How did you get it?”

“I was a hostage in a bank robbery” the words leave your mouth in a monotone. It’s only after you’ve said it that you realize you have most of the classes attention now.

Right, inconspicuous.

“Are you okay? That must have been pretty rough.” Another classmate asks, her names Cassie or Cassandra or something. Almond shaped eyes bore into you as you shrug.

“Stuff like that happens all the time in Gotham, it isn’t that big of a deal”

Everyone in class thinks you’re super cool after that.

“Hey (Y/N), you wanna join our study group?” It’s a few of the girls from your class, Cassandra the girl from earlier, and a blonde name Stephanie. You know her name because she’s always getting called on by the professor for not paying attention.

You’ve seen them hanging out together before, and you found yourself a little jealous of their friendship. Maybe the three of you can be friends like that too.

“Sure”

The night air is warm, it’s hard to believe it will be fall in a few more weeks.

“This humidity is crazy” Dick says rubbing his neck.

It’s even harder to believe the golden boy is walking next to you too.

When you showed up at the apartment in the nicer part of campus, you weren’t expecting to see Dick open the door. You should have realized, of course Dick’s friends with the coolest girls on your class. And of course they host their study group out of his apartment. Being Bruce Wayne’s adopted son certainly comes with it perks. His apartment was so fancy, it had a chandelier in the foyer.

Still it was kinda fun. Though honestly calling it a “study group” was going too far. It was basically ten minutes of studying and two hours of chatting. Then all of a sudden Stephanie and Cassandra wanted snacks and alcohol. Frowning as they rummaged through Dick’s kitchen only to find cereal and milk.

And that’s how you ended up here, walking side by side with the golden boy himself. You’re walking on the outskirts of campus in the nicer part of town, heading towards the convenience store.

You’re not really sure why he had to come along, probably because it isn’t safe to walk alone so late at night.

“So you met Nightwing huh?” Dick says to break the awkward silence. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. He’s weirdly obsessed with that hero.

“Yeah, why are you a fan?” You ask, you don’t miss the slight blush that forms on his face.

“Kinda yeah, what was he like?” His eyes are bright as he looks at you, the blush only creeping onto his face further. You think back, it was a brief encounter, you didn’t really think anything of it.

“He has acne” You can tell by the look on Dick’s face that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Y-yeah and what’s wrong with that? It must be from stress, and it must be hard keeping a good diet when you’re fighting crime all the time.” Dick’s flustered. He’s getting awfully defensive for a complete stranger.

Suddenly it hits you like a lightening bolt. The golden boy had a crush on Nightwing. You totally get it, all those muscles in that skin tight suit, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little turned on yourself just thinking about it. You steal another glance of his blushing face. If anyone has a chance with Nightwing it’s Dick. Who wouldn’t be weak to that smile and charm? You totally ship it.

You place a hand on his shoulder, baby blue eyes meet your own. You’re looking at him with such serious eyes, he wonders if you’re going to tell him something reassuring about acne or how Nightwing is an an amazing hero.

“I support you.” You tell him with a thumbs up.

Richard has no idea what you’re talking about, but he doesn’t want to embarrass you.

Then all at once it hits him, like a lightening bolt. (The sane lightening bolt that struck you a few minutes prior) He must have given away that he’s Nightwing! You’re really smart, he’s noticed you’re name on the dean’s list almost every semester.

But how’d you figure it out?

His hand flutters to the side of his face, fingertips brushing over the few pimples that popped up last week. You must have realized who he was since the acne spot matched the place it was on Nightwing!

He stares at the thumbs up you gave him. this must be you showing support for his vigilante activities!

He feels his eyes water slightly as he nods. He’s always known you were a gentle and kind soul. But he can’t believe you’re supportive as well, he feels himself falling even further in love with you.

“Would you mind keeping it a secret?, it’s good to know I have a friend like you to support me but not everyone does, yknow?” You nod, he’s Bruce Wayne’s adopted son. It makes sense those old-money geezers have narrow minded views on love. They probably want him to be with a nice girl from a wealthy family.

It must have been so painful for him growing up, hiding who he really was. Wishing he could just be loved the way he is, but knowing deep down that there were parts of him those people would never accept. Your heart aches for him.

“Don’t worry, just follow your dreams, I’ll keep your secret!” There’s fire in your eyes, and Dick brushes away the tears that have formed in the corner of your eyes.

The two of you board the miscommunication train without another thought, walking side by side with completely different interpretations of the conversation you just shared.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom when you get back, after heaving two large bags of snacks onto the dining room table.

Stephanie looks at Dick expectantly when she hears the bathroom door shut.

“So how’d it go? Did you guys get closer?” She practically bouncing as a smile spreads across Dick’s face.

“You know, I think we did!” He’s practically beaming, his grin so wide it almost consumes his face. Stephanie lets out a squeal and Dick laughs.

Well you two are closer now, but not for the reason he thinks.

You’re washing your hands, taking in your reflection. You’re not really sure why, but you have this feeling that school’s going to get a lot more interesting now.

[solace-under-the-moonlight]

Joke's on you

[thegothamgossip]

Spring is here!

Spring time has come to gotham, and love is in the air. This reporter has it on good authority that Selina Kyle has been seen rubbing shoulders with Dick Grayson at the Iceberg lounge! Both have stayed quiet about this, but a source close to the family has said that the pair have been seeing each other for a few weeks! Bruce Wayne has declined to comment on the issue, but this reporter is determined to find out more!

[ao3feed-timdrake]

Big Brother's Intuition

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2xWgC5m

by WonderfulWonderWorld

Dick has an uncanny knack of knowing exactly what his family needed. AKA, Big Brother Dick and how he keeps the rest of their family intact with his intuition.

Words: 2230, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of The Dick Grayson Collection

Fandoms: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, other batfam members vaguely hinted at

Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Tim Drake, Dick Gryason & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Everyone, Dick Grayson & batfam, vaguely hinted Dick/Barbara

Additional Tags: Big Brother Dick, Dick Grayson is the best bro, Everyone Loves Dick Grayson, He tries so hard for his family, He loves them too much, And they love him too, Also Damian is a little shit, Bruce Wayne is Tired Dad TM, minor hurt/comfort, Family

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2xWgC5m

[impossiblepeacehideout]

WHICH CHARECTER IS MOST ABUSED BY THEIR PARENTS?

[crimsonkingart]

I found a brush suitable for drawing bruises!! I feel in heaven!! I can draw even more bruises on their bodies!! 🤤🤤

[jinmukangwrites]

,,, 10 with Dick? 🥺👉👈 (Also love u darling!!! Ur doing so well!! I'm proud of you!!)

Give me a number between 1-100 and a character, I'll write a snippet based on a line in my top 100 songs of 2021 with that character

California - CHVRCHES

Close my eyes, close my heart

---

Dick wasn't acting as bright and cheerful as he normally did, and it immediately worried Bruce. Normally, on family dinner nights, Dick would be going out of his way to tease his younger siblings and check up on them... catch up on their lives to the point of annoying them. The ease at which he got the rest of the kids to open up and talk about their recent joys and worries never failed to strike jealousy in Bruce's heart on nights like this...

But tonight, something was different.

He was still talking with his siblings; still grinning to the point of crow's feet... but there was a forceful way to it. He asked detailed questions, but danced around any directed back towards himself. His smile looked plastered like a resin mold. Bright, all teeth, his... but lifeless.

Something was wrong, and Bruce had no idea what.

But he also knew better than to bring it up in the middle of dinner.

So, naturally, he waited until after. He knew he'd get a chance to be alone with Dick as the rest of the kids went to the living room to begin fighting over what movie they were watching tonight. Dick always wanted to bug Alfred about helping clean the table, and if Bruce knew anything about Dick's mood tonight, it was that he was going to make sure he does what he always did to not arouse suspicion that something could be wrong with him.

Unluckily for him, he'd failed tonight at that. Bruce wasn't the only one to catch on Dick's mood. Cassandra gave them worried looks as the passed, and Damian looked as if he wanted to stick around too. It took a nod from Bruce to get them both to leave. He didn't know what was wrong with Dick, but he could handle this. Dick may be well into his upper twenties, but Bruce was still his dad.

Alfred left the kitchen as well, saying something about making sure there was room in the fridge for leftovers... and soon it was only Bruce and Dick in the dining room. Dick was tense and already moving towards the table like he hoped that if he got his hands full, he wouldn't have to deal with what Bruce had to say.

Dick caught on that Bruce noticed. Good.

"Dick," he said before he could grab the first plate. Dick's shoulder's rose like a cat raising hackles as he glanced back at Bruce, only to pause at what he saw.

Bruce, standing there, his arms stretched out.

"B, I'm fine-"

Bruce raised an eyebrow, and Dick sighed, wisely knowing that surrender was the best option. With a few slow and reluctant steps that could only come from a child that was trying to convince themselves they didn't need comfort, Dick was close enough for Bruce to wrap his arms around.

Bruce's love language wasn't physical touch... but Dick's was. And he would gladly practice that language over and over again just to feel his eldest relax in his hold like this was the first time he wasn't tense all month.

Knowing Dick, it probably was.

"You know you can always talk to me, if you need to," Bruce whispered, holding tighter with the embrace, cherishing the feeling of Dick's head relaxing against his shoulder.

"Just tired," Dick lied, but Bruce wouldn't push.

He just brought his head down so his lips touched the top of Dick's brow. The embrace only lasted for a little while longer before Dick was pushing away from it. Bruce let him go and didn't mention the redness in Dick's eyes. Bruce was sure that if Dick had his way, the embrace would last forever, but tonight... prolonged hugs seemed to threaten tears.

"C'mon, chum, let's get the table clean and then break whatever argument the kids have gotten into over movie choices tonight."

Dick nodded and rubbed under his eyes, sniffling slightly. "Yeah. Yeah..."

Two nights later, Bruce woke to a notification from his eldest. Two words, and an emoji.

Thank you 💙

And Bruce released a breath that he must have been holding for years, knowing that while he had no idea what was causing his eldest to close up like that, it was solved now, and Bruce fulfilled his part exactly how Dick needed him to.

[jinmukangwrites]

Gunpoint

Whumptopber Day 5. Yes I know, I’m late. I’ll catch up.

Summary: Dick’s been missing for a week.

Warnings: idiot bad guys. Hostage situations.

-o-o-o-o-

Nightwing’s on his knees, his hands locked behind his back. Cuts decorate his suit, showing injured skin below, all over his body. His mask is torn, hanging on by will power alone, one white leans shattered and showing off a single electric blue eye narrowed in pain and anger. His hair is tussled, knotted, completely out of whatever style it’s supposed to be in. Batman isn’t quite sure if it’s because of the seven days of captivity or if its the meaty hand grasping onto the side of his head by the roots. Could be both. All Batman knows for sure is that his lips are chapped, his cheeks are bruised, and that there’s a handgun loaded with a deadly 9mm bullet pressed against his jugular.

“Don’t get any smart ideas,” a man says, and Batman levels his steady glare on him. Kirk Nerling: a new big bad in Blüdhaven, someone Batman didn’t even know existed until Barbara informed him that Nightwing’s been silent for, at the time, 72 hours. It isn’t entirely new information that Nightwing sometimes isolates himself when he’s stressed or emotionally compromised. Bruce was fully prepared to tell Barbara to simply listen out for him and not to worry, but that day was Cassandra’s birthday (to the best of their knowledge) and Nightwing didn’t even bother to leave a happy message for the young woman. It’s entirely unlike him to forget a birthday, let alone a sibling’s birthday.

After some research, they found that gang activity has been on a steady uprise for quite a few days in Blüdhaven, and after some more research Bruce found that Nerling was the leader of that activity, attempting to fill in the shoes of Blockbuster. 

It took a few days, but he eventually found evidence of Nightwing’s abduction, and a few more days to pinpoint the location of his imprisonment. 

All in all, it took Batman seven days to realize his eldest was missing, captured, and being held in a panic room hidden behind a bookcase just next to Nerling’s grand office desk.

Turns out, a man who captures Nightwing earns himself a reputation of steel. He has many supporters now, many gunmen and mercenaries and gangsters to protect and serve him. It took several minutes for Batman alone to make it to the top story of the corporate skyscraper; Robin, Black Bat, and Signal are still in the lower levels of the building, fighting the hired guns. Red Hood, Red Robin, and Spoiler are back at Gotham taking care of a rather large drug bust which actually turned out to be connected to Nerling in of itself.

Seven days. Seven days. This man has taken over an entire city and is extending his reach across the bay all within a week, going almost entirely unnoticed by the bats who protect these cities. 

Bruce would almost be impressed if his son isn’t currently being held at gunpoint. 

And if he weren’t Batman.

“It’s over,” Batman growls, “let him go and give up.”

“Nah,” Nerling says, sighing and clasping his hands behind his back. He leans back against his mahogany desk, the expanse of Blüdhaven’s skyline encompassing him from behind thanks to the floor to ceiling windows. Bullet proof, Batman’s already checked. “If it was over, you wouldn’t be asking me to let our friend go.”

Nightwing makes a grunting noise, probably made as a result from the hired chunk of muscle holding him hostage trying to make a point that he has Nightwing’s still in his grasp. But Bruce keeps his gaze locked on Nerling. “My team will be up here soon, you have no chance of escaping. There’s only two of you.”

“Yes, yes,” Nerling says, waving his hand in the air as if shooing a pesky fly away. He stands from the desk and Batman carefully hides his tensing. He strides over to Nightwing and bends down, one hand falls onto Nightwing’s shoulder. Nightwing visibly tenses, but with the handgun pressing into his flesh, right between his jaw and neck, there is nothing he can do. “There’s only two of us, but… there’s only one of him.”

Batman scowls, knowing that this is where it would lead. A man like Nerling, with his charisma and business like way of leading and conquering, he would have no need of keeping Nightwing alive once Nightwing fell into his hands.

Taking Nightwing prisoner not only got rid of Blüdhaven’s persistent protector, but it also gave him a very good bargaining chip to use against the rest of the bats. Keeping Nightwing alive gave him an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. 

A very effective stone to say the least. Though, it’s nothing Batman hasn’t dealt with before. Nothing Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Damian, and Duke hasn’t dealt with before. Though, he must also remain careful. Getting confident just because he and his partners have made it out of hundreds of similar situations can make it so that this time it simply won’t be the case. 

“What do you want?” Batman growls. 

Nerling smiles and stands straight, but he keeps his hand mockingly on Nightwing’s shoulder. “It’s simple really. You and your friends return to our sister city, and Egior here doesn’t pull the trigger. You stay out of my way, and he’ll stay breathin’”

Egior grunts at the sound of his name, grins at the idea of pressing the trigger. 

“B, no,” Nightwing whispers, his voice soft and raspy from misuse. It sends Batman’s toes curling in barely contained anger.

“I’m not leaving here without him,” he says, making his voice forceful enough to leave no room for arguments. “You let him go, and we’ll leave you alone.”

Nerling scoffs. “Do you really think I’m that stupid, B-”

He cuts himself off with a scream, a metal bat shaped shuriken—or batarang as Nightwing lovingly calls them—sticking out of his shoulder, just next to his collarbone. He stumbles backwards and before Egior can do much, another batarang is thrown at his hand. Metal pierces flesh, and the weapon drops to the ground with a startled cry. Batman grins as a body lands next to him, a flick of a yellow cape.

“Yes, we do,” Robin says, grinning but his whole body shaking with an eagerness to fight.

The fight does begin, and it doesn’t last long, if anything it’s anticlimactic. It begins with Nightwing kicking out his legs and tripping up Egior. Batman throws a smoke bomb, and Robin rushes forward while he pulls out his sword. Only a couple punches are thrown, most of them are spent trying to knock down the brick wall called Egior, but within a minute and smoke clears, two unconscious bodies lay on the ground with their wrists and ankles zip tied. Batman stands up from Egior and Robin rushes over towards Nightwing who’s struggling to his feet, his hands still cuffed but moved during the confusion to the front of his body.

Batman’s heart flutters when he sees how Robin doesn’t even hesitate to wrap his arms around Nightwing’s waist in support. Nightwing smiles, it not quite reaching his eyes but enough so it could be considered genuine. “Took you long enough,” he wheezes. Batman doesn’t say anything, just strides forward and take Nightwing’s bruised hands in his own so he can work the locks. Once the cuffs fall to the ground, Nightwing lurches forward even with the support of Robin. Batman catches him by the shoulders and steadies him.

“It took us time to realize you were missing,” Batman says, lowering Nightwing to the floor. Robin backs away and mumbles that he’s going to check the restraints of “those heathens” as Batman attempts to get Nightwing in a comfortable position on the thinly carpeted floor. 

“S’alright,” Nightwing murmurs. “S’not your fault…”

“Awe man, did we miss the fun?” A new voice says and Nightwing’s smile widens. He looks past Batman’s shoulder to see Signal clad in yellow standing in the doorway with Black Bat a little behind him.

“Nah,” Nightwing says as Signal and Black Bat make their way into the room. Both look a little roughed up, but otherwise fine. Bat… Bruce wasn’t worried. Cass is here, after all.

Speaking of Cass, Dick weakly lifts a hand up and she reacts accordingly, their hands wrap in a sturdy hold around each other’s wrists. A catcher’s hold.

“Sorry I missed it,” he whispers and Bruce’s heart tightens. Dick would never forget a birthday, even while he was held hostage by a wanna be crime lord.

It’s hard to make out Cass’s expression with her mask, but her cheeks appear to sharpen and lift in what can definitely be considered a genuine smile. “Make up for it,” she says simply, and Dick chuckles in response. Duke joins in with his own laugh, Damian scoffs, and Bruce cant hide the small tugging of his lips.

Dick passes out on the way back to Gotham, though it’s because of exhaustion instead of any injury or fever, so Bruce let’s him sleep the entire way. Thankfully, Jason is there in the cave with Tim and Steph to assist in hefting Dick's dead weight out of the batmobile and into the med bay where Alfred’s already waiting with painkillers and band aids.

It’s amazing how the simple notion of Dick being in danger is enough to get everyone to the manor. Jason isn’t even complaining about being around Bruce, in fact he’s happily telling embarrassing stories about Dick from his early Nightwing days to the rest of the kids; Damian interrupts every so often to voice his outrage that Dick would grow a mullet or something similar. Bruce remains in the med bay, his hand carding through Dick’s tangled out hair.

Amazing.

Simply, incredible.