#grim is such a dick

[simulation-machine]

Grim’s out here collecting chicken souls, but I got Arls a cute cow named Missy Tulips!

[oat-pup]

my epic oc Growllen

he loves evil coffee and his evil

((big help from cutiesparke on twitter for the development of his character))

[frownyalfred]

Dick has always been the charming, easy-going and humorous vigilante on all patrols and missions. Jason can count on one hand the number of times he's seen Dick's jovial attitude falter as Nightwing.

[qqueenofhades]

Sure, every single one of Trump's announced cabinet picks so far is (as expected) spectacularly terrible, but fear not, everyone. Susan Collins is here and she is Very Concerned.

[erinwantstowrite]

ERIN i cannot believe you are a fan of twisted wonderland too, you have feed me once again with your beautiful art thank you so much 🛐🛐

But who are your favorite tw characters?? And how do you think other batfam members would do in yuu's situation?

i love Twisted Wonderland!! in a sense that I ignore the Mickey Mouse plotline because what even is going on there LMFAO

It's so hard to choose a fav cause they're all so stinky and I adore the idiots so much,,, but my rankings are: Ace and Deuce for 1st place, Grim for second, Ruggie for third, Epel and Kalim for fourth, and Malleus for fifth. And this is if I HAVE to choose. the rest of them are so silly that I can not be contained. I need to torment Azul and shake him around <3

Tim would thrive the MOST in Twisted Wonderland, but we know how I feel about that by now. As for the others... I'm assuming we're going with them but when they were the same age as the first years in Twisted Wonderland (cause it's a school). In all of these scenarios, Crowley does not stand a chance. Also they all steal Grim.

Bruce isn't Batman yet when he's that young, but he's certainly just as crazy as he'll be in his twenties-fourties, maybe even MORE so because he doesn't have the experience of training yet. After figuring out that this isn't a hallucination or weird altered state that he's in (coma, spell, etc), he'd be an unbending force that gives them all a run for their money. He's incredibly smart and I doubt he'd be willing to put up with any bullshit that gets pulled. He would manage to get himself home and refuse to make any friends... but he would probably grow soft for Grim, Ace, and Deuce. Grim because Yuu takes care of Grim, and we all know how Bruce is about adoption. Same for Ace and Deuce, they're so stupid that Bruce would end up worrying about them 24/7. His paranoia about keeping them safe would prevent Azul getting a contract with them, etc etc.

Dick when he was Robin? He's terrorizing Crowley the entire time, with a smile on his face. He's so strong willed that anytime Crowley tries to put him into a situation where Crowley gets to fake being nice and magnanimous without actually helping, Dick calls him out and forces him into actually doing something, lest everyone see how he really is. (They know already but Crowley would try to save face.) He'd make friends with everyone- he'd tame Grim pretty fast and probably see it as an exercise to teach him how to be more patient. Honestly, Grim's temperament would remind Dick of himself when he was just starting off as Robin. It'd be like having a little brother and when Dick isn't stuck angsting about some shit Bruce pulled when being emotionally stunted, he's a good big brother. He'd make friends, but he wouldn't tell them anything about himself, keeping it close to his chest. Secret identities, and all that. Dick would also get himself home very fast, not willing to make B wait long. Plus he really missed Alfred.

He would try to steal Grim though. He would probably succeed, actually. All he'd have to do is tell Grim about the world he's from and how he knows magic users far beyond the level of the teachers at this school who could use a new student, and Grim would likely accept.

For Jason, when he was Robin, he was the sunshine kid. This would be after he's mellowed out with Bruce, when he's started to accept his life with B and Alfred, and started to grow into his own as Robin. They would all mistake his willingness to help as weakness, but Jason can be just as stubborn and clever as any other Robin. It's in their blood. He wouldn't be willing to let them talk down to him- he's used to people looking down on him because of where he comes from. The big fancy schools at home think he's trash from the bad parts of Gotham, and here isn't really any different. They think he can't get by without magic? Boy, will Jason sure show them. He's Robin.

I have a feeling that this, combined with Jason's love of school, would mean that Jason gets a little sidetracked with learning about this world, magic, and history, etc. He and Grim butt heads a lot, but Jason would get protective over him. Jason took care of the kids younger than him before, and his Robin is known for the comfort and kindness he shows.

He, too, would not make B wait a long time for him to come back. He's not as much of a detective as Batman or Nightwing, but he's clever enough to get himself home because of what he's learned. He would also steal Grim. In this scenario, it'd been a long time since anyone had cared about Grim the way Jason does about him. He'd come even without the speech about magic in Jason's world.

Tim... is the only Robin who'd make Batman wait. Not even out of a sense of being an ass about it, Tim would just thrive in Twisted Wonderland. He'd play up a role of being a "damsel in distress" or being silly and carefree and clumsy, etc etc. All the while Tim has been picking apart this mystery in front of him and he's got it all figured out. He's having a blast. It's Batman that comes to get him, and Tim probably wasn't expecting that, but, hey! Batman came to get him!

Damian. Holy shit is he a force to be reckoned with. He gets under everyone's skins, he doesn't bother hiding in plain sight, he demands to be treated the way he deserves. He's the son of Talia al Ghul and Bruce fucking Wayne. You try to put him in Ramshackle and he'll gut you with his sword for the disrespect. I think it'd be funny if Damian was like "this distasteful chandelier was only worth a billion of your currency?" and ADeuce try to kill him. Eventually they get along in the most hilarious way, but they're constantly fighting. Damian takes charge of their group, naturally, but he finds himself on equal footing with ADeuce at some point because they're from Twisted Wonderland and help him fill in the gaps of his knowledge. He's also studious (the PhD thing) and Deuce would ask for his help. Ace would get roped into it.

The only one that he gets along with? Grim. Because he's a cat with fire powers. Damian would think he's so fucking cool, he basically has a fuzzy little dragon. That can fit in his bed and cuddle with him and can talk. Come on. What 14 year old like Damian wouldn't think that's the sickest shit ever? He'd demand only the best for Grim, but would also easily start shaping him up to be a better mage. No, not better- the best. Damian would understand Grim's desire to find his legacy.

And, like, here's the thing. Even with all of that... Damian is a very empathetic kid. If he's about freshman year-aged, he'd be, what, 14? I think? That's after he started letting himself be more empathetic. After he lost his dad for a year and learned to be Robin because of Dick. Literally no one would expect Damian to be understanding or listen to the prefects' insecurities or hurt, nor willing to talk to them about it. But he does. He also hands their asses to them when they fight, but while that's happening, Damian is talking to them.

He steals Grim whether he wants to or not. But Grim does want to go with him.

This got WAYYY longer than I expected it to but this got me to thinking and we know I love to yap. I'd add Stephanie, Duke, Cass, Babs, etc, but I don't want this to get too long.

[aingeal98]

The fun thing about so much of Dick's Robin run being stories from the golden age is that you can headcanon stuff like Batman teaching Dick to drive age 10 by tying three pairs of shoes together and sticking it to his feet so he can reach the batmobile pedals and who's going to tell me I'm wrong huh? Sure maybe during Tim Steph and Damian's eras Bruce prioritises child safety over wacky fun training methods but during Dick's era your Batman can be as ridiculous and campy as you like and you can make a canon case for every dumb idea you come up with.

[r0-boat]

Aaa I streamed a date with death

And there are some things that gave me the urge to write this drabble!

Grim x reader

Cw: NSFW but no sex, phantom Touch or whatever that means,slight temperature play, somnophilia, dub con

A quiet night like any other. All snug in your warm bed, after an uneventful day at work All you wanted was to see your favorite grim reaper and have a restful night of dreams.

But it seemed that someone wasn't satisfied with just a text or a call.

Work today was hard and you only made it harder, as well as his mind being played with your Bright smile carefree attitude that kitchen admit the attracted to. Tonight his need needs were stronger than they were before, this aching need to see you, touch you, be with you, be in you. He couldn't just show up and take you right there, no. There's no way he can take your sharp tongue and your filthy words.

Then you remember doing words. When he formed the connection to you.

How this could be used in 'other ways'

His breath still shakes at that.

You did say you didn't mind...

He could still feel his connection from you.

Fuck, He needs you He craves you so bad and it's your fault.

Laying in his bed by himself he poses his eyes imagining your body The connection still strong as he can feel your body on top of his. Ghosting his fingers over your chest he could feel your soft heavy breathing, you're warm skin, your heartbeat.

You are alive.

Deliciously and utterly alive.

That very state that mocks him even now

But at the same time causes him to crave you more.

'nine hells, This is wrong so so wrong.' He mutters yet he does not stop.

To hypnotized on the warmness of your body in the gentle weight pressing down onto him. You are a lot softer than he imagined.

Despite being trained to harvest the souls of what he reaps he knows little to none about human anatomy. He knows how to fatally wound or even kill a human, What spots of the body are vital and fragile, and nothing more. As he feels his pants getting tighter, he ignores his primal urge for pure curiosity as his hands begin to dive underneath your pajama tops. His icy cold breath tickling your ear makes you stir, but he is too engrossed in the nubs on your chest to care.

You always liked your room being cold when you sleep but it feels like you're in an icebox. You let out a whimper as you slowly open your eyes to feel your nipples being squeezed and pulled by something cold. As if ice cold tools were playing and prodding and caressing your body making you shudder as you let out a moan. You thought this was me really a dream since nothing appears to be in your room who is causing you this weird pleasure, when you felt a hand around your mouth.

And a familiar voice in your ear you knew exactly who it was.

'You did this. Look at what you did to me. Isn't it time to reap what you sow?'It took your mind a while to fathom what Grim was talking about never mind the fact that He is now touching your body for God knows how long you were out, until you felt a poke at your backside the warmest thing you've been feeling. You grind your hips against it and grim returns the action with a groan.

'Even now you tease me? Fine I shall play your game, too.' He ends with a purr.

[ghost-bxrd]

Omg I had a horrible terrible no good sad idea.

Fae dick grayson having just enough banshee in him to know Jason's going to die, but not enough banshee to just give up and mourn.

Sadly it happens anyway and dick just breaks, cause in his mind by not preventing the death he foretold, he killed his brother.

That’s sort of what happens in the “Shuck” au! Dick is an actual banshee there, but he’s in space when Jason dies.

And he screams for hours until his voice gives out, desperately trying to keep Jason’s soul tied to their world… without success. 🍂

[catpriciousmarjara]

DP X DC

Ao3

The Job Offer

"And why not you?", said the man. "You're intelligent, skilled, and adaptable. Most importantly, you're entertaining. That last part becomes very important when dealing with my kind".

A ring glinted in the dim light as he gestured with his hands. "Plus, there wouldn't be any danger in the first place! Our lot tend to stick to the Rules, you see? And not harming the messenger is most certainly a Rule".

A sip of coffee. Eyes filling with mirth.

"In the off chance that someone did take offence, all you have to do is amuse them for a while, and as I said, you're very good at that. But don't worry, they won't take offence".

Dick Grayson, attention still half focused on the vicious black claws on the man's hand, had to ask, "And why won't they?"

The man's pleasant smile didn't falter. But it did slowly morph into a grin with way too many teeth to be normal. The young vigilante had to suppress a shudder.

When the man?it spoke, the voice resonated. "Because you'll be one of mine. And they won't dare touch what's mine".

The teeth gleamed.

And just as abruptly as it shifted, the air changed, the pressure lifted, and the man was smiling once more.

Dick was left off-footed and tightly clutching the arms of his chair, his breath fogging in the still frigid air. He hadn’t even noticed the temperature dropping.

He looked at the man nonchalantly sitting across from him as if he hadn't just taken years off of Dick's life. The vigilante was not one to scare easily. Yet, mere moments ago, Dick had felt a fear so primal that it was maddening. It was not the kind of fear a human being could evoke, no matter how frightening their actions may be. Dick had seen the worst of Gotham, and Gotham was a cesspit on a good day. But he hadn't ever felt like this before today. If there was ever a question about the humanity of his companion before...well it was answered now.

To be honest, he couldn't quite recall how he got here in the first place. Everything was a blur.

No...not quite. His memories were alright, it's just that his mind couldn’t grasp them. 

And every second in this...space, had felt muted. As though he was lying beneath several layers of sheer fabric; he could somewhat feel things, see things, but his senses were muffled.

The spike of fear from before wasn't him breaking through as much as he was allowed to break through, and now he was safely back beneath the dampening cloud once more. It was almost comforting.

Dangerous.

Dick only remembered what had happened in bits and pieces. Being fired from Robin, the legacy he had forged for himself, named after his mother's love, and garbed in Grayson colours.

Being angry and distraught. Not knowing what to do.

It had taken him weeks to reorient himself. A month to gather his composure.

He vaguely recollected a cafe in Jump City. He had been sitting in a booth, contemplating his options...

Someone had sat right across from him, right?

He had looked up…

“Hello. May I sit here?”

“...Sure. Go ahead.”

“Daniel Nightingale.”

“...Richard Grayson.”

" I know. You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way. Also, could I have a bit of your time?"

"Um...yeah, sure?"

“Perfect!”

And the next thing he knew, he was Here.

Wherever here was.

(Why had he said yes then? He would never have done that normally.)

At first his mind had been adamant in believing that here was the very same cafe he had been sitting in. But Dick wasn't trained by the man known as the World's Greatest Detective for nothing. However, it had taken him an embarrassing few moments to start noticing the abnormalities.

For one thing, he had been sitting in a booth in a cafe, not at an ornate wooden table, much like the one in Bruce's home office. The only thing the cafe table and this one had in common was that they were both rectangular.

Secondly, their table was covered by a veil. A huge gauzy one hanging from above. But try as he might he couldn't see where it was hanging from, just a yawning darkness.

Finally, he could see shadows moving beyond the veil, and the more he looked, the more bizarre they became. And at one point, the shadows lost all pretence of humanity. They weren't even humanoid, let alone human.

He definitely wasn't in Jump City anymore.

It had taken him even longer to notice the man sitting across him. That he hadn’t left this Daniel Nightingale behind.

Wispy white hair.

"Ah! You noticed so quickly. You really are the perfect fit for the job!"

Green. green eyes.

"Apologies for the veiling. It's necessary however.., some things are not just meant for mortal eyes, you see. Without it, you might just go insane! We wouldn't want that now would we?"

Unnaturally pale skin.

"Enough dillydallying! But first, introductions. You may call me either Daniel or Nightingale. By what name would you prefer to be called?”

Something about that question made the ex-Robin’s hindbrain pay attention. The wording of it, the tone…

You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way.

Could I have a bit of your time?

Something had felt incredibly off, so he had gone ahead and given one of the alternate names he had been thinking of taking up now that Robin was over.

“You may call me Nightjar.”

Nightingale had looked incredibly pleased then. And a bit smug too.

“Let me cut to the chase then Nightjar. I’m here to offer you a job. You’re a perfect fit for the role. We offer excellent compensation, and flexible work hours. Considering you’re out of work now that you’ve been fired from Robin, I believe my offer would be interesting for you.”

For some reason, perhaps because of all the strange things that happened, the fact that Nightingale seemed to know his alter ego hadn’t surprised Dick. Instead of asking how he came to know about this particular information, including the fact that he got fired, he decided to keep the conversation rolling on this supposed job offer. He had an inkling that he won’t get anywhere even if he asked, so might as well mine some information by making the other man talk.

“What kind of job is it? And what exactly would be included in the compensation?”

In response the man had snapped his fingers, and produced a file out of nowhere. He opened it, turned it around and slid it across the table. Dick started. Nightingale made a go ahead gesture, a smile on his lips once more. Dick gingerly dragged it a bit closer, and took a look.

“As you can see Nightjar, the position being offered is that of a courier. Due to many reasons, delivery across the realms is a cumbersome affair, not the least due to political complications. The best system to lay down in this situation was to have an impartial party be in charge of the work. You can say that I am a representative of the aforementioned impartial party that took over the role. If you would turn a page over-

Dick had dutifully turned the page.

-you’d see that we offer great compensation. In addition to your salary, you’ll receive health insurance, life insurance, death insurance, medical insurance, dental, vision care insurance, paid vacation time, overtime pay, paid time-off, flexible time-off, paid medical leave, free medical care, maternity leave, paternity leave, all other forms of parental leave, a good retirement package, loan assistance, wellness programmes, child care assistance, regular bonuses, promotions, raises, accommodation, a provident fund, and a whole host of other benefits that are clearly listed on the page. And of course at the end right there is our offered starting salary, which is highly negotiable up to the amount listed right below it. Please take as much time as you need to read through them.”

To say Dick had been overwhelmed was an understatement. He hadn’t thought that this was going to be an actual, honest to God job offer. If anything he just thought the entire job thing was an excuse or prelude to something much worse. But as he parsed through the file, getting increasingly bewildered as the man rattled on, he had to admit that this really looked like a weird recruitment effort. And then his eyes had fallen on the salary figure, and the amount to which it could be negotiated upwards, and he froze. Because even for the ex-ward of a billionaire, it was a ludicrous number. He couldn’t even accurately count the zeros on the thing. Even Wayne Enterprises wouldn't be able to match a deal like this. 

At that thought Dick had felt a pang of pain as he remembered Bruce still hadn’t called him, or even made an attempt at apologising. There were no texts, no missives. Just radio silence. The pain in his chest increased and Dick had felt the ever returning feeling of being unmoored. He pushed those feelings to the furthest corners of his mind. He had to focus now.

Feeling marginally calmer, he had taken a deep breath and closed the file. He looked up at Nightingale who had been watching him avidly over the rim of a coffee cup which definitely wasn’t there before, and asked the most pertinent question.

“Why me?”

And now they are here.

Dick scoffed at the white haired being’s answer. Oh he didn’t doubt that it was the truth. By now he had somehow come to an understanding of how this worked. It was fae rules. Meaning he had to watch his mouth. Similarly Nightingale won’t lie, but he can certainly obfuscate.After all withholding information wasn’t technically a lie, especially if it was masked with a half-truth. In other words, Nightingale hadn’t lied, but that wasn’t all there is to it. And Dick wasn’t going to let it slide. 

“How am I supposed to believe you to be a good employer if you’re already lying?”, he asked outright. You know, like a reckless fool.

Nightingale’s pleasant smile instantly froze, and then it gained an edge. A sharp, lethal edge.

“I don’t lie”, the man said, a cold cadence to his voice.

Dick could feel the figurative whetted blade on his throat, but he pressed forward. This was the first time he had taken blood in this fiasco and he wasn’t going to concede just like that.

“Lying by omission, is still lying.”

Nightingale’s entire mien darkened, and frost spread across the table. Dick didn’t back off. 

There was silence. Suffocating silence. And then the vergals receded and Nightingale sat back with a satisfied air. Dick blinked in surprise.

“Good. You didn’t cower.”

Dick sat back on his own chair, his breath fogging in the still cold air. “Was that a test?”

Nightingale took another sip of his coffee. Was it even coffee? It looked like coffee, but who knows what anything is in this bizarre space. Certainly not Dick.

“It was a test. The position of a courier in this part of existence requires mettle, and a strong mind. You would be dealing with beings ranging from the divine to the demonic. I’m sure you know they are a stubborn lot. You’ll have to stand up to them often. Plus you would be representing Us. We can’t have an unprincipled, craven fool take the job can we now? So I had to test you. Congratulations! You passed with flying colours.”

Dick glared at the man. “I still haven’t agreed to anything. And you still haven’t told me why I was chosen.” 

Nightingale chuckled. It was an unnatural, but pleasant sound. “Aah you caught that. Very well then.”

He clasped his hands together and put them on the table, bringing Dick’s attention to the black, razor sharp claws once again, as well as to the extremely ominous ring he wore on his left hand’s little finger.

“You were chosen because you are a multiversal constant. This job requires much interdimensional, interuniversal travel, and a multiversal constant is ideal for the role. And before you ask, a multiversal constant is essentially someone whose soul acts as a consistent axis across worlds through indelible aspects of their existence. They are rare, and their axial quality makes multiversal travel easy for them.”

The white haired entity’s eyes shone in the dim light. “You are a multiversal constant Nightjar. Centred around your potential, And also, I know you will agree to do the job. So I’m not worried.”

Even as he struggled to process what was just revealed, Dick found the energy to scowl at the impishly grinning man. “And how would you know? What’s in it for me? All I’m seeing is a job, the benefits of which, doesn’t make up for how dangerous it is.”

“But you will accept it nonetheless”, replied Nightingale with an amused air. “Think about it. You’ve been fired from Robin but still intend to continue being a vigilante, and vigilantism is expensive work. Now that you don’t have the Wayne coffers to pull from, you would have to find alternate means to acquire resources. You’re brilliant and I have no doubt you will find those resources and do spectacularly under your new mantle. But that would take time. And calling in favours that could either be used somewhere else, or make you indebted to someone. The salary this job provides you will allow you to finance your quest for justice, and still have plenty leftover. Not to mention the other benefits, such as the free medical care provided by Us, people who will never question your injuries the way a normal hospital might, or put your civilian identity at risk like a back alley doctor.”

Nightingale’s verdant eyes stared a hole through Dick as he spoke. “You wanted to get out of Batman’s shadow. This is your chance, Nightjar.”

The young vigilante had to give it to Nightingale. The man sure knew how to pitch an offer. He found himself agreeing to most of what Nightingale said, especially the finances part but he still wasn’t going to agree to a job that would put him in the crosshairs of gods and demons. That was just monumentally stupid.

“You make good points”, Dick said as he slid the file sitting idle on his side to Nightingale. “But I’m still not gonna agree.”

Nightingale slid the file back over to him without missing a bit.

“If I thought you were the type to easily capitulate I wouldn’t have approached you in the first place,” the man said, not a single sign of ire at Dick’s repeated refusal in his voice. In fact he seemed rather glad Dick was being difficult.

“You want to know more about being a multiversal constant correct? That is not the kind of information you’ll find lying around on earth.”

A pitch black claw scraped across the table, but there was no noise, and the deep scratch left behind instantly stitched itself back together, the tabletop pristine once more.

“By now you must have a rudimentary idea of the world you are being invited into. You would not have called yourself Nightjar otherwise. You also know that this is not a world Batman has access to.”

The man pointed opened his right palm, still resting on the table, and brilliant emerald fire blazed to life on it. Something in Dick’s lizard brain told him this fire ran cold rather than hot.

“Magic and everything associated with it is not something the Dark Knight can handle by his usual methods. And magic is just one of the aspects of our Realm. An infinite more mysteries keep it company. This world is yours for the taking. No mortal would be able to access what you can and you would be able to help so many people.”

Blue eyes met green.

“This will set you apart from Batman once and for all. An identity that no one can take away from you at their whim. Just think of this as your day job, as being a CEO is for Bruce Wayne.”

Nightingale clasped one of Dick’s hands resting on the table and transferred the fire over to it. Dick stared as the flame danced merrily in his palm. It really was cold. By the time he had his wits about him, the fire had vanished. Nightingale had seemingly finished his coffee, as the cup was nowhere to be seen. 

Dick glanced at the white haired man who watched him calmly. Then he took the file and started reading through it. If he was going to take this job, he was going to make sure to read the fine print. Out of the corner of his eye, he could spy Nightingale’s gleaming, triumphant smile. Dick couldn’t help but feel annoyed. 

He didn’t know how much time it took for him to read the file completely. Time ran strangely in this space. What he did know was there was an ornate, silver pen right next to him, which definitely wasn’t there before. He had to roll his eyes at Nightingale's antics. 

Nonetheless he uncapped it, admiring the craftsmanship for a moment, and signed on the dotted line in his Alfred approved best cursive, bells, whistles, hoops and all. 

Nothing happened. Dick felt kinda disappointed. He had thought signing a magical contract with a possible fae creature would be a little less anti-climactic. Across from him, Nightingale chuckled as if he could read his mind. Could he?

He slid the file over once more, this time for last. Nightintingale just skimmed through before sliding over an envelope. 

“Your appointment letter”.

“You had that ready?”

“Of course.”

Dick snorted inelegantly at that. Obviously the man had foreseen how this would go. That should make him more wary than what he was feeling, but just as he had known the fire was cold before, he knew Nightingale wouldn’t harm him. Bruce would call him an idiot for this kind of illogical thinking, but Bruce wasn’t here now was he?

He was about to shove another medley of complicated emotions down, when Nightingale reached over and viciously ran a claw down his right arm. Blood spurted in a gruesome display and Dick scrambled back, chair falling down, and his body hitting the surprisingly sturdy veil.

“What was that about?”, he shouted as he clutched his bleeding arm to his chest. Just when he had thought the man didn’t mean him any harm…

Nightingale had the audacity to look nonplussed. He simply brought his palms up as if to show he meant no harm, but it was a moot point when one of his claws was dripping with Dick’s blood.

“Just testing something”, the man said calmly.

“Testing what?’, Dick asked angry and confused.

In response, Nightingale simply pointed to his arm.

“What? Testing whether your claws could tear me apar-”

He stopped short. There, before his eyes, the flesh of his arm was knitting itself together. In mere moments, the wound was gone, not even a scar where it should be. Dick was reminded of the table from before. What just happened?

“What did you do to me?”, he asked, voice soft, and emotionless. 

“Don’t worry. It's your compensation. Part of your medical aid.”

He waved his hand, and the blood vanished. “Do sit down, Nightjar. Lets order something to eat.”

Robotically Dick walked to the table once more. The upturned chair was somehow rightened, already pulled out as if waiting for him.

“That was a healing factor”, he said rather than asked.

Nightingale nodded unbothered. “Yes, you’ll be needing that in your line of work.”

The veil opened and admitted a two-headed woman in, carrying trays of food in her four arms.

When she left, Nightingale eagerly took up his cutlery, looking excitedly at what looked like a luminescent crepe. He glanced at a shell-shocked Dick and frowned.

“Please eat. It's safe to consume, now that you’re one of us. If you’re worrying about your job, don’t. You have been assigned an excellent mentor in Harker. The White Grim will train you well.”

With that, he dug in, clearly enjoying his glowing crepe.

Dick just stared at the man, at his no longer injured arm, and sighed. Might as well eat. He hadn’t gotten to eat anything at the cafe and was beginning to feel hungry.

He scooped a spoonful from what seemed like an overly fancy bowl of cereal.

One of them huh?

He took a bite.

[cookeybg]

Gotham Possesses Table of Contents

Here's the easy access to the chapters!

Tittle: Gotham Possesses

A cryptid Batfamily AU in which Gotham is the main character and follows its journey to consciousness as it possesses its Bat and Birds. Chapters are short and a bit gloomy.

Main Characters: Gotham, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne

Honorable Mentions: Joker, Talia Al Ghul, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze, Riddler, Cobblepot (Penguin), Two Face (Harvey Dent), Superman (Clark Kent), Superboy (Jon Kent), Barbara Gordon, Cassandra Cain

No romantic relationships

Stuff to know: Cryptid Batfamily, grim, Melancholic mood, Angst, Gotham LOVES Batman, the last chapter has mentions of; drug use, murder and unsolicited touching (at the very end and very briefly)

Chapter 1 - Gotham Wept

Chapter 2 - Gotham Trembled

Chapter 3 - Gotham Loved

Chapter 4 - Gotham Drank

Chapter 5 - Gotham Slept

Chapter 6 - Gotham Hoped

Chapter 7 - Gotham Transcends

Chapter 8 - Gotham Mends

Chapter 9 - Gotham Bewitched

Chapter 10 - Gotham Watches

OMG, chapter 9 was linked to chapter 8. Sorry about that, it should be fixed now.

I hope you have enjoyed Gotham Possesses. I will be posting it on Ao3, maybe tomorrow. I'm a bit sad about it ending, but, also proud of myself. This is the second thing I wrote that I posted and was super nervous to do so. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with reading this and endured my lack of editing.

Also, I will be making this a series and posting one shots of the birds and their new life bound to Gotham. They wont be in any particular order, but I have already written Dick's POV before he becomes Nightwing :)

[grimalkinmessor]

Aideku with blood (smut) 🙏❤️

Sorry this took so long, smut is hard 🥲How about a vamp AU? :3 Warnings in the tags ✨

Aideku/Smut/Blood

———

Izuku is nervous.

"Don't be such a pussy, Deku," Tsubasa jeers, shoving him forward. The mausoleum looms in front of them, haloed by the setting sun. "It's one night."

"Yeah, you can handle one night in an empty building, can't you?" Neiru laughs. "Or...mostly empty, anyway. Aside from a few corpses."

Izuku swallows. "I-I can do it! I just—"

"Good," Neiru interrupts, stepping up to open the big stone door. It opens with a grating moan, a vast expanse of black yawning beyond it. Neiru gives a mocking bow. "In you go then!"

Nails biting into his palms, Izuku sets his jaw. "...I do this, and you'll give me my picture back?"

Tsubasa throws an arm around Izuku's shoulders, leaning in close and making his skin crawl. "Aw c'mon, Deku, we're friends, right?"

They haven't been friends in years.

"It's just a little game. The picture's just insurance that you won't chicken out. We'll give it back if you make it the whole night without bailing."

Izuku doesn't believe him. But what choice does he have? If he refuses, he doubts they'll hand it over—it's more likely that they'll rip it up right in front of him. Besides, Izuku is less concerned about spending the night in a mausoleum than he is Tsubasa and Neiru letting him out in the morning.

But even if they don't, Izuku is crafty. He'll figure it out.

Tightening his hold on his backpack, Izuku strides forward into the tomb.

"Finally! Thought we'd have to throw you in," Tsubasa complains, and Neiru snickers as he begins to push the door shut.

"Have fun, Deku!"

Before Izuku can even reply, the door thuds shut, and the bar scrapes back into place over it from the outside. Izuku waits a moment before fumbling for his phone, turning on the flashlight to get a good look around. It's not that big of a space really, but it's full of cobwebs and coated in a thick layer of dust. It's clear that these ancestors haven't been visited in a very long time. There's about six plaques on either wall, some of them so old that the kanji has worn down so much he can't make out the names. They're so old that Izuku wouldn't be surprised if there were actual bodies behind those plaques rather than just urns full of ash.

And speaking of bodies—the biggest thing in the room is the long stone slab directly opposite the door. It has no plaque on it, but the seam between the heavy stone lid tells Izuku that it's likely a coffin, which means that he really is locked in here with a corpse.

Izuku gulps. It's fine. It's fine. He can handle this. There's nothing to be afraid of.

Shaking his head, Izuku finds a fairly clean spot in the middle of the room and sits down, shrugging off his backpack to rifle through it. First things first; he pulls out his actual flashlight, shutting his phone off to preserve the battery. He clicks his flashlight on and sets it on the floor like a tiny lamp, before tugging out one of his textbooks. Might as well get some work done while he's stuck here.

He's almost out of high school now, looking into nearby colleges so he can stay close to his mother—which makes it all the more pathetic that he's still getting pushed around by people like Tsubasa and Neiru. Granted, it's not as bad as it used to be, but it's still irritating.

Izuku tries to ignore his surroundings as he works his way through the next chapter, gnawing on his pen and occasionally jotting down notes in the margins. This works for a while; he manages to make his way through two whole chapters without much trouble. He loses track of time a bit, until—

—something skitters across his foot.

Izuku shrieks, throwing himself back on instinct, leg flailing as he tries to stand only to end up toppling harshly against the casket behind him. Yelping, Izuku crashes back to the ground, clutching his shoulder with a wince. It throbs when he touches it, and he hisses quietly. That's going to bruise.

Grabbing blindly for his flashlight, Izuku staggers back to his feet and looks around for whatever just tried to climb his pants leg. He sees a spider the size of his hand sprint into a crack in the wall, and Izuku shudders, making a soft 'blegh' sound.

Swinging the light around slowly, Izuku freezes when he realizes that his flailing has pushed the lid of the stone casket aside. "Sh-shit," Izuku whispers, anxiety spiking. He sets the flashlight down again, face up, the light dispersing throughout the tomb enough to give the place a dim glow. "Shit, shit, shit—"

Hands shaking, Izuku approaches the cracked casket and tentatively peers inside. He expects to see some withered husk of a thing, or maybe nothing but bones and dust given how old this tomb seems—he's very much not expecting what looks like the perfectly preserved corpse of a man who couldn't have died more than a year ago.

Izuku blinks, squinting. The flashlight glow is dim, but from what he can see it's a man with long, dark hair and a riot of stubble. The white and black yukata he's wearing is shockingly pristine, pale hands folded calmly over his stomach. There are no signs of decay at all, not beyond the ashen white of the corpse's skin. Unable to help himself, curiosity ad incredulity flaring, Izuku reaches forward and touches the man's cheek. The flesh is stone cold—not quite icy, but certainly not full of warmth. There's a bit of give there too, the flesh porcelain but still somehow soft.

Brow furrowing, Izuku slides his hand down to press two fingers to the corpse's white neck. He's no sure whether he's surprised or relieved to find no pulse.

Izuku barely has time to register this however, because mere seconds later a hand snaps out and fists in his uniform jacket, yanking him down and in to the coffin. Izuku yelps, panic spiking, as he crashes onto the cool body settled in the slab, mouth opening to scream as the stone lid of the casket slams back into place.

But no sound escapes his mouth, because in the sudden darkness he feels teeth slice into his throat—before pleasure overtakes him.

Izuku gapes at nothing as a solid arm latches around his waist, tight enough to bruise and yet somehow still seeming absentminded. The subtle rasp of stubble rubs against his neck, and Izuku smells the faint scent of blood as lips move and hum quietly against his pulse. The electrifying feeling of heat spiders out from the point of contact, spreading through Izuku's body and pooling in his gut. Izuku's eyes flutter, a weak noise escaping his mouth as his hands flex and paw at the chest of the-the thing beneath him. He's not sure whether he means to push it away, or draw it closer.

Izuku feels his blood spilling slowly down his neck, thick and hot, and the pieces slot together in his bewildered, fuzzy mind.

Vampire.

He is locked in a tomb—a coffin—with a monster of legends. It's feeding off of him, stealing his blood, likely killing him...

But Izuku can barely bring himself to care.

A ragged groan scrapes out of his throat as the vampire sucks out his lifeblood, ecstasy filling him in its place. He feels his cock stiffen, pressing tight against the seam of his pants as Izuku's eyes roll back in delirious elan. Through the haze, his ever analytical mind notes that the man's hands are skating up and down his sides, one fisting loosely in his hair to pin his head at a better angle. The chill of the corpse's skin is slowly being replaced by warmth, siphoning off Izuku's body heat as well as his blood.

Izuku gasps as a leg juts up beneath him, a muscled thigh slipping in between his legs and pressing against his erection. The pressure makes him tremble, little hiccups of sound lilting out of his mouth as he instinctively rocks his hips down in helpless little jerks, each movement giving him another jolt of pleasure.

A tongue swipes over his bloodied neck, the white-hot bliss of those teeth leaving him for a moment as the monster beneath him cleans him up. Izuku whines at the loss, a quiet desperation striking through him.

'No, no, come back, I'm almost...'

He moans shakily as he feels those fangs pierce the other side of his neck, drawing out his blood and sending him high once more.

"A virgin...?" a low voice purrs, sleepy and bemused and...in his head?

The hands on him tighten, and Izuku whimpers as it sends another spike of arousal through him. He has the vague sense of shame, of embarrassment, at the way he's humping the man's leg, rubbing the tent in his old jeans against the silky white fabric of the man's yukata—but it's a faint sensation. His anxiety is drowned out by the sheer amount of ecstasy coursing through him. Izuku feels it building in his stomach, coiling in his gut as his toes curl and his thighs clamp tight around the muscled thigh beneath him.

He's close, he so close, he—

Red glow fills the space, casting the figure beneath him in a crimson haze. His eyes are a brilliant, luminous scarlet, and the light of them makes the blood painting his mouth look black.

"Your lust..." the man rasps, hands skating up and down to fasten around Izuku's hips. His voice is low and wet, and Izuku can smell his own blood on his breath. "I can taste it."

Then the monster yanks Izuku's hips down, forcing him to grind up against the man's stomach. Izuku cries out, sobbing as the force, the crush, the smell sends him toppling over the edge of orgasm. He cums so hard his vision goes white, mouth open in a soundless wail as wave after wave of pleasure crests over him, shocking up his spine and curling in his scalp. He forgets to breathe for several precious moments, knocked breathless by it.

Vaguely, he feels the man's mouth on him again, trailing his tongue against the newest wound. Izuku's eyes flutter, and he collapses fully on top of him, lost in the afterglow. He's not sure whether the dizziness he feels is because of his orgasm or the blood loss, and he's not sure he particularly cares either. His limbs feel like jello.

"Mm, you're type O," that low voice muses, a hand trailing up and down Izuku's spine. "I thought it was merely that I hadn't fed in so long, but it's no wonder. Best way I've woken up in a long time." The hand pauses, and the red glow now saturating the inside of the coffin flickers. "Mind telling me what year it is?"

"It's..." Izuku begins, the question booting his brain back into gear. His thoughts begin to race as he blinks rapidly to clear his head, a myriad of questions and emotions and reactions flashing across his mind in quick succession. "I-It's 2237."

"A little over four hundred years this time," the man murmurs, brow furrowing in contemplation. "Odd. Someone usually wakes me up every turn of the century."

"U-Um, sir," Izuku tries after a moment, wriggling in mortification when he feels the mess he's made in his pants. "Can you, um, let me out now? If y-you're not going to finish me off?"

'Why would you ask that, WHY would you—'

"I would," the monster begins absently, licking a stray trail of Izuku's blood from the corner of his lips. He's looking at the faintest trickle of light that can be seen from the seam of the stone lid. "But it seems like it's still daylight out. The mausoleum must've collapsed..."

Izuku attempts to push himself up, but the idle hand on his back isn't as idle as he thought. Vampire strength, he realizes quickly. Biting his lip, he tries not to think of the bruises already blossoming on his hip. "No, that's just my flashlight! It's actually very late, so it's safe for you to let me out, I promise!"

Scarlet eyes narrow at him, grip tightening, and Izuku squeaks like a dog toy when those fangs scrape against his neck again. "You're not lying to me, are you? Little lust thrall?"

Izuku's face flushes brightly, and the man noses his cheek almost instinctively, as if following the blood flow. "I-I'm not! I'm not lying, I swear! Please, just—I don't want to die," he finishes weakly, hands fisting tightly in cloth pooling by the monster's sides.

The man's eyes soften slightly, and he sighs. The tang of warm iron feathers against Izuku's face. Reaching behind them both, the man swipes the lid to the side with one hand, the rough scrape of stone on stone making Izuku wince. Before Izuku can even move, he finds himself being hauled up and set outside the coffin on his feet. He staggers immediately, knees still weak, and nearly falls.

A calloused hand pushes against his back, keeping him upright. Izuku swallows and blinks away the spots crowding his vision, stumbling away to pick up his flashlight.

He turns again, cringing at the wet feeling between his legs. The man is sitting up in his box, peering at him curiously. Unable to help himself, Izuku tentatively asks, "So... you're n-not going to eat me?"

Tipping his head, the man gives him a hooded smile, dark hair shadowing his face as he answers, "Not anymore than I already have."

Izuku's face feels so hot he'd work well as a heat lamp.

The man steps smoothly out of his tomb and, to Izuku's surprise, folds into a bow. "Aizawa Shouta."

More habitually than anything, Izuku bows back. "Midoriya Izuku. It's, uh, nice to meet you?"

Aizawa smirks at him, the tips of his fangs flashing. "Well, Midoriya," he says, practically purring out the name. Izuku's breath catches. "Thank you for the meal. I hope you'll allow me the chance to taste you again. In a place where I can properly see you, this time."

With that, Aizawa rises from his bow and swirls into shadow, racing out of the doors of the mausoleum and leaving them banging open behind him. Moonlight spills into the tomb, and Izuku watches Aizawa's shadows zip through the cemetery and out into the night.

He has a feeling that he's just got himself into far more trouble than he knows.

[simulation-machine]

I’m not ashamed to admit that I teared up when Bluebell bit it. 

[asteriskemily]

Hi, I found your Monster High X DC and i was wondering if you could continue the one about DRAGON!Tim Drake? Pretty Please?

I’m working on it I swear, I’m just slow. While I work on it, have a little bit of dialogue that was the first thing I wrote for that.

“Have you been thrown into the bay anytime recently?” Dick asked, lightly running his fingers over Tim’s shoulder.

“No?” Tim looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrow at him.

“You haven��t been drinking tap water, right?” Dick tried to make it sound like a joke, but Tim could still hear the tension in his voice.

“Of course not, I know better than to drink Gotham tap water.” Tim reassured him. “Dick, what’s going on?”

“You’re growing scales.”

“What?”

“You’re growing—“

“No, no, I heard you. It’s just… What?”

“You… it’d be easier if I just took a picture.” Dick reached around him to grab his phone from where he left it on the bench in the center of the small changing space. Tim heard the phone making a shutter sound before it was passed up to him. A picture of his shoulder. Dry, dead skin was flaking off and his skin was red and irritated. All centralized on a patch of golden scales growing out of his shoulder. Tim fell to the bench behind him as he stared at the photo.

“I’m growing scales.” He mumbled

“I’m gonna go get Alfred.” Dick quickly said before turning and running out of the room.

[shelyue99]

Irl Dick gets along with older women like Mrs Barnes and Stanhope’s secretary Ms Blaine, I don’t know if that’s Mennonite part of him or he has old soul(affectionate) it just feels very endearing

[dendromancer]

no because stede literally went through the 5 stages of grief when he realized he cockblocked himself

[dramatisperscnae]

closed starter for @cxpedcrusxder's Grim, because why tf not >w>

--------------------

He's not exactly sure just what good coming here will do, but he's got to know. He's got to see for himself. After that very public arrest, after everything…the media's had a field day with this, but even at fifteen years old Dick knows the media doesn't always give the full picture.

So here he is. Sneaking into Gotham's most secure mental hospital in the dead of night, to do…what, exactly? Satisfy his own curiosity? Maybe. The man he's coming to see has a pretty twisted view of how things should be in this city, and Dick wants to know why. No one else will tell him. Possibly no one else can.

The people at the orphanage tell him not to ask questions like that. They worry about him. They'd probably worry a lot more if they knew where he is now, what he's doing. They'd definitely worry if they knew he's been sneaking out regularly since he'd cme to live there in the first place, but that's a different issue.

The hallways are quiet as Dick slips carefully down them. They always are at this hour; he's been watching the guard rotation and routine for a while now, taking stock of the various security measures. He won't have much time to talk, once he finds the right room, but he'll have some.

And there it is. Arguably the most secure room in this entire facility, due to the nature and abilities of the man it holds. A man who may or may not actually be awake at this hour, but Dick's going to find out. He knocks at the door - a transparent affair made of reinforced, just-about-everything-proof glass that removes any sense of privacy this man has - and steps back a pace, arms folded. "…Anyone awake in there?"