#or if Nightwing’s in town he can just call in backup for that

[dragonpyre]

Selkie Jason thought. If their seal form ages at a similar rate to humans, Jason’s gonna be a cute lil pup until late into his teenage years. Seal pups don’t leave their mothers until they’re fully self sufficient (also the same time they’re fully weened). Humans aren’t usually fully self sufficient until around 18-20. Aka, that seal pup still needs a bottle of milk until he’s like 16 human years.

What I’m saying is, sea puppy with milk breath

[crimsonwolf715]

Race Against the Clock

Dick turns the TV on after coming back home from patrolling Blüdhaven.

“Hey, Batsy,” Joker says, waving a knife in front of him with his signature smile. “I’ve captured someone rather important.”

He moves to show the hostage and Dick’s heart stops for a moment. Tim Drake, not in costume, is bloody and bruised in the chair. He’s tied up and he looks to be unconscious at the moment.

“Come and get me. You have five hours to find me or little Timmy here dies a gruesome death.”

The camera moves to a bomb a foot away from where Tim’s tied up. The video cuts, then returns to the news. Dick jumps over the back of his couch and rushes to get ready. He drives to Gotham in record time to find the police already outside of the station.

He drops down. “Gordon.”

Gordon turns. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

“I wasn’t, but I saw the broadcast,” Dick replies. “Where are we in search?”

“I have two search teams out already, but I have more officers here now that I’m about to disburse into search teams. And Batman’s here.”

Dick looks around and spots his father after a moment. He jogs over to him.

“What happened?” Dick asks.

“He was supposed to be at a friend’s house. He never made it, so Joker caught him unaware on the way from school to the house.”

“Damn it,” Dick mutters. “I should have been here.”

“Worry about that once we find him,” Bruce says.

Dick nods.

“We need to create search parties,” Gordon says. “The faster we find Joker, the faster that Batman or Nightwing will be able to take him out.”

Dick starts droning out Gordon’s instructions, instead focusing on where Joker could be keeping Tim.

He was in a warehouse, so most likely in the southern half of Gotham. Though there are a couple in the northern side.

“Yes, sir!” The call from all of the officers snaps Dick out of his head.

The officers separate to their cars to start the search. People on foot start searching as well.

“We split the city in half,” Bruce says to Dick.

Dick nods. “I’ll take the northern half.”

“Sounds good.”

The two separate, heading in their respective directions.

Dick quickly heads for the cluster of warehouses in the northern part of Gotham on his motorcycle.

“Dick?” The voice belongs to Barbara Gordon, Batgirl."

“Hey, Babs. What do I owe the pleasure?” Dick asks.

“I just saw the report. What’s the status of the search?” Barbara asks.

“Haven’t found anything yet, and neither have the police. Batman’s empty handed as well.”

“Damn it. I’m gonna get into costume when I get home and search too.”

“Where are you?” Dick asks.

“On a train back to Gotham. I was at a lecture,” Barbara answers. “I’m almost home though. I’m on my way, I swear.”

“Sounds great. Help is always appreciated, and I don’t know if my anxiety can handle this. It feels too much like when…”

“Hey, we’re gonna find him, okay? Tim’s gonna be okay.”

“He will be,” Dick says. “I don’t care if it’s the last thing I do, I won’t let him die.”

“I’m about to get off the train. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Barbara says.

“Godspeed.”

The comm cuts, so Dick returns his focus completely to the road. Once he’s close enough, he gets off his bike and starts going on foot. Going from rooftop to rooftop, focusing on running and his footing.

Falling off a building is not allowed today.

Dick makes it to the warehouses and sees guards guarding the entrance to one of them. He drops down and takes out all of the guards but one.

“Is Joker here?” Dick asks.

The guy nods. Dick knocks him out, then heads to the roof of the next building.

He spots Joker and Tim through a window.

“Batman, I found where Joker’s hiding.”

“Where?”

Dick sends Bruce his location.

“I’ve received it and I’m on the way.”

“I’m gonna get Tim.”

“Be careful. Batgirl's on her way too. She heard about the incident.”

“Tell Babs I don’t need the backup, but that it’s cute that she’s worried,” Dick jokes.

He jumps down to the flagpole and swings off of it. He slams through the window feet first and lands in a neat roll. Joker starts shooting at him the second he gets into the warehouse, so he ducks behind some of the machinery. Dick grabs a batarang and throws it at Joker. Joker dodges it, so Dick runs out and delivers a roundhouse kick to the side of Joker’s head. He stumbles, so Dick throws him into the wall and he slumps over.

“I’m one minute out,” Bruce says in the comm.

“Sounds good.” Dick goes over to Tim. “Hey, you okay?”

“As okay as I can be,” Tim answers.

“Good.”

Dick pulls a batarang out of his pocket and checks to make sure it’s sharp enough. He then cuts Tim’s restraints with the batarang.

“Batman should be here, so go find him. I’ll deal with Joker.”

Tim nods, then stumbles towards the exit. Dick turns towards Joker and the bomb, and sees that the timer says ten seconds. Panic shoots through Dick.

This will kill Tim if it goes off. The flames will blast through the hallway.

Dick runs towards the door and uses all of his strength to push the door shut.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry, Tim,” Dick says, then the bomb goes off.

An explosion rocks the warehouse as Batman arrives on the scene. Bright flames pouring out of every exit that it can find. Before he has a chance to react, Tim stumbles out of the warehouse.

“Where’s Nightwing?” Bruce asks, rushing over to Tim.

“He’s not here with you?” Tim asks.

Dread washes over Bruce.

He gently grabs Tim’s shoulders, gaining him a cringe from Tim. “I need you to go over to Gordon. Tell him that I’m going after Nightwing.”

Tim nods, looking on the verge of tears. Bruce runs into the warehouse, pulling the gas mask on so he doesn’t have to worry about smoke inhalation. He goes through the building until he comes to a heavy metal door. He pulls it open and his oldest son falls at his feet. He’s covered in burns and cuts, and he clearly isn’t breathing.

“No,” Bruce says, then drops to his knees.

When he checks for a pulse and doesn’t find one, he starts doing CPR. Tears are streaming down his face as he tries to force oxygen into lungs that are no longer working.

“No, you can’t die. I can’t lose you too,” Bruce pleads to deaf ears.

After almost a whole two minutes of CPR, Bruce stops and breaks down sobbing on his son’s chest.

“Please, no. Dick, I need you. I need my baby, please.”

Tim watches Batman walk out of the warehouse holding a burned and battered Nightwing. Tim’s face lights up for just a moment, until he realizes that Dick’s limp.

Tim’s smile disappears in an instant.

“No,” Tim whispers.

Gordon looks up from his radio and sees the two. “Oh no,” he says.

Gordon jogs over to Bruce. They have a quiet exchange which Tim can’t hear, then Gordon comes back over.

“Come on, let’s get you to the station,” Gordon says.

“No, I can’t leave them,” Tim says, then runs towards Bruce.

Bruce turns and sees Tim. “Don’t come over here!” Bruce shouts, but Tim doesn’t listen.

He makes it over and Bruce tries to shield Tim from the view with his body.

“Grayson,” Tim says. “He’s… gone?”

Batgirl runs over and stops short. She sees Tim, then runs over and scoops him up. Tim cries his protest, but is in no shape to stop her as she takes him back towards the police cars.

“Stop, please!” Tim cries.

“I’m sorry, Tim,” Barbara says. “You don’t need to see that.”

Gordon takes Tim to the station, where a paramedic patches up his injuries. Bruce shows up not long after, looking terrible. He rushes over to Tim, who won’t even look at him.

Bruce takes him home and no attempt works to get him to eat, drink, or sleep. Tim is inconsolable.

The funeral, which happens a couple of days after Dick’s death, is quiet. All of Dick’s friends are in attendance, super or not. Many members of the League attend as well. Bruce gives a beautiful speech about how Dick made him a better man from the moment he entered his life. How Dick was a bright kid who wanted nothing more than to help people. That he was dearly loved and will be missed by everyone who knew him. Tim’s quiet and fights tears throughout the entire event.

The ride back is completely silent. When they get back to Wayne Manor, Bruce grabs Tim and pulls him into a tight, but gentle hug.

“It’s okay to cry, Tim,” Bruce whispers. “But it’s also okay if you don’t want to cry now. Just know that I’ll be here for you.”

Tears spill out of Tim’s eyes and he pulls away from Bruce.

“He died because of me!” Tim exclaims. “You should be furious with me! Why don’t you hate me?”

Sobs wrack Tim’s small frame. “Why… Why don’t you… hate me?”

Bruce kneels down in front of Tim.

“It’s not your fault,” Bruce says. “Dick risked his life for someone he loved. I will never fault him for that, and you’re alive. I could have lost both of my sons that day, but I didn’t. You’re alive and that’s so important.”

Tim puts his head on Bruce’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, he caught me unaware.”

“Don’t be sorry. It happens to the best of us.” Bruce hugs Tim and gently rubs his back.

Alfred walks into the house.

“I’ll make dinner tonight, Alfred,” Bruce says.

“No need, Master Bruce. I need the distraction. You should stay here with young Master Drake,” Alfred replies.

Bruce nods.

After dinner, which none of them eat much, they tell stories about Dick and all the wild and lovely things he used to do.

[vinelark]

please share some outtakes im on my knees

oh man most of my outtakes are like, slight paragraphs/scene rewrites, but here are some bbts lines/alternate dialogue options that didn't make the cut!

chapter 1:

But it’s not like Tim could’ve told the kidnappers to call Bruce right away, not until today’s little attempt, which was another check in the failure column. No one else knows Tim has been practically living at Wayne Manor, and if they did it might raise too many questions. Tim can’t create an unnecessary trail of connections between Bruce Wayne and a random kid, especially a random kid in a situation where superheroes and vigilantes might then show up. He knows too well how quickly those connections can snowball if someone puts together one right conclusion, like hold on, Robin just did a quadruple flip—

---

sb aww are you jealous robin excuse me sb that no one’s made @robinsass yet robin absolutely not kon i said i’m not KON. sb http://twitter.com/robinsass i got u robin i’m calling oracle sb no worries i have five backup urls robin joke’s on you anyway unlike nightwing there are no hq photos of me. also i wear a cape. why do you think i wear a cape kon sb to cover the fact that you have no ass : (

chapter 2:

“Oh, no,” Tim wheezes when he’s done hacking up half the marina. He twists to sit heavily on the wet concrete and starts scrabbling at his shoelaces. “My shoes.”

Kon rolls his eyes. That’s it. No more saving rich kids; Kon is putting a wealth cap on all future damsels in distress. “I’m sure they’ll dry.” Or he can buy a new pair—Kon had looked Tim up after the whole kidnapping thing, just to make sure he healed up okay and everything. Kid’s parents are definitely loaded.

---

“Hey—Superboy, hey, are you good at beer pong?”

“Uh,” Kon says. “For PR reasons I don’t think I should answer that.” The answer is that he has no clue, having never played, but if he said that then half the media would have a field day with how his lack of cliché teenage rebellion secretly indicated he wasn’t so human after all. If he lied and said yes, somehow that same half of the media would clutch their pearls over him being a Bad Influence.

“Oh,” Tim says. “Well. Well, I am very good at it.”

“Um. Okay.”

Tim’s face falls. Kon has no idea why he suddenly feels guilty about this.

---

"But for the record, I’m not scared of you,” Red Hood says. “All I have to do is press a button and have Batman run you out of town if you get too annoying.”

“Batman is off-world,” Kon says, a little smugly.

Hood glares through his mask in a way that tells Kon he knows that, and is annoyed that Kon does too. Good. “Then I guess that leaves me in charge.”

chapter 3:

“What are you going to get Superboy?” Steph says. “Maybe a nice cheese plate?”

“I am going to frame Dick for tax fraud,” Tim mutters. He’s taken to hiding the charcuterie board Kon made in one of his city caches now, because Dick kept sneaking it onto the dinner table every time he visited the manor.

---

“What the—” Muffled talking on the other end. “He says he’s not sure,” the girl says to someone else. “Tim, explain this to me in small words.”

“Um.” Tim rubs his temple. “I’m with Superboy. He—found me. And took me somewhere, somewhere safe, so I’m okay for now.”

It does not escape Kon’s notice that Tim doesn’t mention the part where he apparently gave his gas mask to a kid and got a full dose of fear toxin. He raises an eyebrow, but Tim is doing a great job of avoiding eye contact.

There’s a long beat. “Oh my god,” the girl says.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god. You are so lucky I don’t have time for follow-up questions. Call me as soon as you’re home.”

(bonus chapter 4:

Kon spares a moment to be impressed that Tim has already figured out where they are, and says, “Because any good date starts with a good snack.”

Tim’s hand spasms where he’s rolling back the jacket cuffs. “A good date, huh?”)

[delusioncorner]

Gasp, Imposter!

Nightwing x Reader (T)

[Y/n] is a newer Bludhaven-based vigilante who has been steadily gaining the trust of a certain blue and black bird-themed masked hero. after he goes MIA for a week, he returns looking....slightly different.

-

I sit atop a building, listening to my completely-normal-totally-not-altered radio for any reported crime. It's weird resorting back to this odd secretive and secluded way of patroling but ever since Nightwing up and disappeared last Monday, I have no choice. He was slowly becoming my patrolling partner as much as he swore up and down that he "didn't want me around" and how I was "such a nuisance seriously go bother someone else" but he's a real softy under that dumb spandex exterior. He even gave me a special in-ear a couple of weeks ago just so he could talk to me, even if we were only several blocks away, checking in to make sure I was fairing well and even calling me if he needed help. He's gone though. Where? I don't know but god, hopefully he's okay.

A crackling through the radio snaps me out of my Nightwing-centered trance. I turn it up a little so I can hear the voices better.

...I have reports of a 211 on Red Line South. Backup requested immediately.

The dispatcher sounds a little worried. Maybe a bit too worried for a supposed robbery in progress. Jumping to my feet, I decided that the edge in her voice is enough of a reason for me to go check that out. I shake the nerves off for what feels like the 80th time that week and remind myself that this is not my first rodeo and it will not be the last. I do some stretching, sharing away any nerves. Welcoming that familiar light buzz that fills me every time I know I'm gonna kick some ass and help someone in this shitty town. I take a final deep breath. And I jump. Grappling from building to building. Flying and dipping through the air. As I soar through the sky I can't help but let out a cry of excitement and anticipation. I love this part of my night.

It's when I'm about halfway to Red Line that I see him. Nightwing, just a few buildings over running and jumping in the same direction as me. Does he see me? Does he know I've been worried sick about him for days? Unable to sleep because I had no idea what had happened to him? I go to yell his name but he plummets into an alley before my mouth gets a chance to form the "n". Landing on a fire escape, I wonder if I should go find him and tell him how sick I've been. How I've missed his stupid voice.

"Put the weapon away now!" A loud booming voice shouts, shaking me to my core. He sounds rough and gritty and one would think he was the criminal in question with a dangerous voice like that. Looking down I see Nightwing with his escrima sticks wielded and realize that I was once again a victim to my own thought and while I was pining over him he managed to sprint 2 blocks over to where I am now. I make a move to jump down but that's when I notice something really interesting. He's grown at least like 4 inches? Right? I mean he is looming over that robber- who, upon further examination, did in fact shoot that cop that was on the scene- but the robber couldn't be any taller than me....

I stay at my place on the fire escape and watch as this Nightwing skillfully disarms the menace while causing minimal damage to the man whose name is Doug because of course, returns the bag to the woman who was cowering around the corner, and checks on and stays with the cop lying on the side of the alley until his backup finally shows up 45 minutes later. The whole time I'm watching this I'm taking mental notes. His mannerisms are much stiffer and strict, he's not making his signature quips, and he definitely didn't do some sort of dumb flip while he was fighting that man which he almost always seems to do. When the backup arrives I make my escape to the top of the building. I had nothing to do with that altercation- even though I siked myself up and prepared for the fight of a lifetime with Doug the burglar- so there's really no reason for me to deal with any sort of cops tonight. I sit on the roof thinking about all the differences I spotted while observing Nightwing tonight and I decide that there's 100% something going on with him. Maybe he's ill? No, that can't be it he would've just stayed home, no? Well then maybe he's decided to turn a newer, more serious leaf? Noooo I don't think that's it either he really loves sassily fighting crime. Maybe he's brainwashed? But then why would he still be actively saving people? Wouldn't the brainwashers want him to go underground or something? I really don't think they'd-

"Who are you and why were you watching me?" The man parading as Nightwing snarls. God damn you, brain. I turn around to look for him. I don't see him at first But I know he's up here somewhere. That's when I saw him. A figure in the shadow. Hes big. Bigger than Nightwing that's for sure. Even though he's standing several feet away you can tell that this man is built like a brick house.

"Who are you and why are you pretending to be Nightwing?"

He's silent. Then he says, "I asked you first."

"Yeah okay, that's really mature. I'm Vulpine. You're impersonating my friend and I want to know why. Now you," I tilt my head up to show him I'm not fucking around.

"I'm a friend of Nightwing's. He's going to be out of town for a while but he wanted me to come here and make sure the city is doing fine." The man says this in a curt tone that makes it clear that he isn't going to answer any more questions I ask.

Tsk.

"And you had to dress like him?" Even though I can't see his face I just know he's staring at me.

"I had to make sure I didn't raise any eyebrows." He is very rapidly getting tired of me already. It makes me giddy.

"Hate to break it to you, dude, but little 5-foot-8-biult-like-a-dancer Nightwing is now.... what are you like 6 feet tall? He's somehow grown 4 whole inches in the past week and he's magically built like a freight train? Yeah fucking right. It would've been better if you just showed up in whatever you wear normally. Something akin to a bat, mayhaps?"

"You can't just say 'mayhaps'-"

"I can."

"No. You can't. Listen, I don't know what you know but it's clearly too much. I will be having a discussion with Nightwing about this as soon as possible. If I find out you were lying for even a second, I will find you." He steps out of the shadow he is under to deliver that last line. He's dramatic. I like him.

"Yeah, alright. When you talk to him tell him I miss him. Okay?" I give "Nightwing" a lopsided smile and decide that maybe tonight is not a patrol night. I salute the man and turn, jumping from the roof and grappling away. As I swing toward my house I can only hope that Batman- because that was clearly Batman- relays my message to the real Nightwing.

-

My first fic on here omg! This was loosely based on the newest edition of the Nightwing comic where Bruce dresses up as Nightwing and watches over Bludhaven for him. I thought It would be funny to write because clearly Bruce is built very differently from Dick and I just think it would be SOOOO obvious to others that it wasn't their typical Nightwing. It's not technically a Nightwing/ Reader fic buuuutttttttt it's like implied maybe. Like if you squint there's a small bit of chemistry and a lot of pining. Maybe I'll make another part.

[remakethestars]

Being Batman’s Daughter Would Include:

Headcanons.

❝Listen, Robin. At their core, people are cowardly and self-serving. Trust no one until you know them. And even then, never completely.❞

— Bruce Wayne, “The Lesson Plan”

TRIGGER WARNING: Plant murder. Mentions of drugs/tranqs (stopping dealers), violence/physical harm, broken bones (knee cap), limb dislocation (shoulder), (Jason’s) death, smoke, waterboarding/drowning?

Headcanon masterlist.

You know how every teenager has that paradigm shift because as much as they love the people around them, they’ll never know the inner workings of your psyche? And they realize they’ll never truly be known? And it makes them feel really lonely?

Yeah, you never come to feel like that because you know Bruce digs so far into everyone around him he probably knows you better than you do.

Honestly, he probably reads your diary. At least, he reads the fake one you hide under your mattress. And the second decoy in the A.C. vent above your dresser.

If you’re as paranoid as Bruce, you probably don’t have a diary, and the aforementioned “decoys” are just to mess with him.

Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was practically your Bible growing up.

You’re torn between giving yourself the tactical advantage of being underestimated & being non-reactive, which — besides giving you the lioness role in the lion–gazelle dynamic — gives you the advantage of having time to think carefully on the repercussions before speaking.

Because, as Sun Tzu said in chapter seven, verse twenty-one, “Ponder and deliberate before you make a move.”

Seeing as Bruce and Damian both have eidetic memories, I’m guessing you do too. 

Which means you totally read the dictionary when you were young and whip our big words nobody’s heard of.

Bruce always assured you it’s okay to be scared. As a matter of fact, like he told Dick (seen in flashbacks in “The Lesson Plan”), he taught you to “Let terror embrace you. The better you know fear, the better you can use it against others.”

And we all know Bruce is the paragon of using fear against people.

Take that, Scarecrow!

(See, I chose that gif because earlier in that move, he displays a fear of bats, & in that scene, he summons them to use as a distraction and walks through them completely unperturbed. No? Okay, I’ll see myself out.)

You started into the vigilante business young, a little bulge under the back of Batman’s cape that made the rest of the Justice League in the meeting think Bruce was host to an alien parasite until your little mask-covered eyes poked up over his shoulder.

The League’s known you since you were young, so they kind of all see you as their niece. That just quadruples the amount of people who are overprotective of you.

Eventually, in your tweens, you think enough’s enough and start out on your own — being underestimated may be an advantage, but it’s getting ridiculous — and you tackle unsolved cases.

You set up various safe houses around the world for your own disposal (using the zeta tubes) and anyone who sees the inside of one in an emergency is always surprised. You don’t really understand why; what serious vigilante doesn’t have secure, state-of-the-art safe locations scattered across the planet?

Sometimes, it gets you into danger, but you always get yourself out of it. If there ever comes a time you can’t, well, you’ve got a direct link to Batman, and if communications fail, you can always yell for your Uncle Clark at the top of your lungs.

If the latter ever comes to fruition, you ask Bruce if he’s disappointed you had to call for back-up or that you called Superman instead of Batman, and he says, “It takes a strong person to admit when they’re weak, [Y/N]; if anything, I’m proud of you. Besides … you’re not the only one who yells for Uncle Clark when they get in over their head.”

Your training entailed hacking and mechanics, so you like to fix computers and sell them on the internet Hugh Jeffreys style. It started out with Macs from the dumpster behind Gotham Academy and turned into a surprising side hustle. Large portions of your profits go into either savings or funding your extracurricular activities. 

You’re using a MacBook that’s running Linux and an iPhone 4 that’s running your own program. 

At some point, your phone falls into the wrong hands, and someone asks why it has such high security. You deadpan and say, “I have three older brothers.” No further explanation required.

One such solo case led you to a ring of drug dealers working in a small town outside of Gotham. You made some tranquillizers and heavy-duty smoke bombs and busted out your shinobi-iri training.

After sliding on a mask covering the bottom half of your face that filtered out smoke, you set all of the bombs off at once in the ventilation system, filling the building and using the infrared in your domino mask to sedate everyone before the cops arrived so no one got hurt (because there would inevitably be a firefight if the cops got involved).

You never go into a situation expecting to go hand-to-hand with someone; you always have a plan to take our your targets quickly an efficiently.

One night, when you’re working on a cold case in Gotham, you stumble across some intel that Poison Ivy’s been stockpiling chemicals and is going to wipe out all human life on Earth.

Luckily for you, Bruce’s paranoia is hereditary; you just happen to carry some white kryptonite in your belt, so you won’t have to go all the way back to the cave to obtain some.

You type out a quick debrief on your wrist computer in case you end up needing to send out an S.O.S., pop on your bottom mask to filter out spores or pheromones she might send in your direction, and bust out your shinobi-iri training again.

Of course, you try the peaceful approach, explaining to Ivy that you agree with her on the tree-hugger front to build rapport (T.B.F., who doesn’t?), but it comes to physical confrontation. You kill every vine that comes your way with a quick punch from your kryptonite ring, toss an expanding polyurethane foam bomb (see Batgirl #38) at her feet, and manage to get an inhibitor collar on her.

Gordon takes her away, and by the next morning, it’s on the news.

“You took down Ivy by yourself?” Bruce asks when you come down for breakfast.

“… Yeah,” you say after a moment, expecting a tongue-lashing.

“Are you hurt?”

“No. She didn’t get a hit in. And before you ask, I had a contingency set up in case things went sideways.”

“… Good job.”

Your dad has the article framed in the batcave, which is the bat-equivalent of having your drawing on the fridge or getting a sticker back on a test.

You’re fighting a grin for the rest of the day.

It bugs you you can’t tell anyone why you’re so happy, so you visit Dick in Blüdhaven while he’s on patrol and give him a play-by-play. You even get a hair-ruffle!

Deathstroke targets you at some point. One of Batman and Nightwing’s worst villains, and he targets you because he knows they love you. You’re the smallest bat at the time, the weakest; he thinks you’ll be the easiest to take.

Boy, was he wrong.

He was trained by the League of Assassins, so you know dropping a smoke bomb’s not going to give you cover (and his mask probably has infrared). His brain processes faster than yours, so tricking him is improbable. He’s probably done enough research on you to know you favor foam bombs and has fast enough reflexes to dodge before they go off.

And he’s jammed your comms so you can’t call for backup. You’re worried he’s got kryptonite on him and will hurt Superman if you call for help.

It’s just you and him.

He has enhanced stamina, so he tries to wear you out. You maintain distance to avoid taking damage and wearing faster.

You always admired Tim for his ability to plan ahead (see, like, the entirety of the Red Robin comics). He doesn’t know how he does it; he just does. He can’t really teach you, so you just watch and learn.

You realize your fight with Slade is just a matter of managing the distance and immobilizing him, so you strike. You duck behind a pillar or grab onto a railing or something and shoot him through the thigh with your grappling gun, reeling him in. He, of course, draws his sword or a knife to cut the line, but you’re already throwing high-density expanding polyurethane bombs.

And, just like that, you’ve single-handedly taken Deathstroke.

It sends a clear message to the rest of the Gotham villains, Blüdhaven’s villains, the League of Assassins — don’t mess with the bat’s little girl. She can hold her own.

Now it’s time for you to come up with another plan to take him down; you doubt the same method will work twice, and you’ve just made a very powerful enemy.

As Wonder Woman’s said, “Do not mistake a desire to avoid violence for an inability to deal with it.” You might go into most situations with a plan to take down your opponent already in motion, but when it comes to an all-out brawl, you’re perfectly capable and don’t pull your punches.

You’re working on an unsolved case in Blüdhaven (Dick’s got enough on his plate) when you get an S.O.S. from the aforementioned along with the feed and recording from his mask. You listen to the mission briefing while you ride back to the cave and then the audio from the Young Justice mission. They got jumped by the League of Shadows in an abandoned factory, and Talia’s trying to coerce Damian into joining the League or whatever.

The usual dropping some smoke bombs and tranqing everyone isn’t going to work on thirty armed League assassins who were trained to fight blind, so you load up on polyurethane foam bombs and call Jason and Cassandra.

The three of you take out the guards outside before splitting up and taking either end of the building (Cass stays with you). You meet in the middle, in the room the team’s being held in.

You highjacked the speakers, so they’re blasting AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” upon Jason’s insistence. You wanted Zayde Wølf or Alice Cooper’s “Hey, Stoopid,” but big brothers will be big brothers.

Jason pops them with rubber bullets from above to slow them down for you while Cass demolishes them and you drop foam bombs, slinging your signature custom shuriken, bonk them over the head with Tim’s staff you picked up along the way, dislocate their arms, or shatter their kneecaps. 

You and Jason get a couple slices from swords that got a little too close, but it’s nothing compared to what you’ve had before. 

When the fighting’s done and the building’s quiet, the team’s, like, “Who the heck are you guys?” 

And Dick’s, like, 😏 “They’re our siblings.” 

Speaking of siblings, you’re older than Damian, and as such, you take upon yourself the honor of teaching him all things pop-culture.

“I have a lot of amazing older siblings. I want to be a good big sister.”

First things first, you give him one of your refurbished e-waste phones and take him to Target to pick out an OtterBox or a LifeProof case or something that’ll keep it safe in the pocket of a vigilante.

Vigilantes are always coming to you when their phone’s broken anyway; you’ve got a stack of spares you’ve repaired.

Then you help him set up a Spotify account (follow me at @remakethestars 😉) and try to help him find his rhythm.

Poor child’s never had Oreos before, so you drag a pack of Double Stuffs out of the cabinet and a glass of milk and show him the best milk-dunking method you know.

You think about handing him a cookie and telling him to waterboard it until the bubbles stop coming up, but cookie-dunking is something every kid does; it’s sacred, and you don’t want him to associate it with violence.

You show him how you and Alfred feed the bats in the batcave.

And you show him Vine compilations and your favorite shows and movies and as many classics as you can, and you put up with him pointing out the inaccuracies and calling them stupid.

Every time he doesn’t get a reference, you write it down so you know what to show him later.

If anything ever happens to you, Damian finds your list and makes it his personal mission to watch/read everything on it. It makes him feel close to you.

You build a relationship with him that’s similar to his and Dick’s, and he comes to you with things he might not be able to come to anyone else with.

Plus, since you live in the manor still and he doesn’t want Bruce to think less of him, it’s you he comes to after a nightmare.

If you know Alfred has pictures of him curled up in your side, you ask him to send them to you. Not for blackmail purposes; just to have.

You’d never use the need of comfort or the sharing of emotions against him because (A) it’s perpetuating toxic masculinity and (B) you don’t want him to think it’s wrong or confirm any of the stupid “strength” things the League of Shadows taught him.

You gave him a stuffed cat that looks like Alfred (the cat, not the butler) with some of your perfume spritzed on it. He verbalized his revulsion when you gave it to him, but on nights he has a bad dream and you’re not home, it brings him comfort.

Titus comes to get you when Damian’s upset. 

Even when he’s not with Damian, he seems to know. Pets are like that.

You’ve learned to trust Titus’s instincts. Damian thinks it’s suspicious when he’s feeling down and you just happen to call.

You never realized it until a long time later, but Ace was acting weird the day Jason came back from the dead.

And he was acting weird the day Jason came back to Gotham too. He ran to the door and began barking. Alfred swept security, but nothing seemed to be off. The whole family was on edge that day.

You were the reason Jason knew he wasn’t completely forgotten; he spotted you through a café window, and you were wearing his jacket.

Visit my headcanon masterlist.

[justcourttee]

could you do another fic where mari has too many overprotective relatives (batfam, jason in particular, adrien, luka, kagami, chloe, jagged, bruce, penny, clara, tony stark and the avengers maybe lol) and all the boys who want to date her are scared away by them until she starts seeing damian or someone else i love your writing and thanks! ♡♡

I loved this prompt immediately and I really hope I did it justice! Hope you like it!

The Never-Ending Cycle of First Dates

“No! Wait! He’s just kidding!” Marinette ran out of the building trying to grab the boy's hand before he could escape, but she was too late. Her hand slapped her forehead in defeat as yet another man hurried off before they could even order drinks. Turning her attention to where her target stood, she couldn’t help the bubbling anger directed at his smirk.

“Why must you ruin every date? It’s like you guys have a pool of names and you just reach in and see who's in luck to scare off the next guy that tries to date me!” She threw her hands into the air, only earning a chuckle.

“C’mon Princess, if the man can’t handle a little threat then how is he gonna stick around for the long term? Hmm?”

Marinette wanted to argue, but she knew it was pointless. Jason and the others were firm in their beliefs; Marinette must be protected from heartbreak at all costs. She tried arguing with them that if she never got hurt in the first place then she could never learn, but alas, her words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“How did you even find us?”

Jason’s smirk widened which only fueled her rage.

“What? You thought meeting at the restaurant would actually change anything? I can find you anywhere and everywhere. Plus Adrien totally snitched.”

Marinette made a mental note to lay into Adrien later after she found the poor kid that Jason scared of.

“One day I’m going to find someone who isn’t scared by you lot and he’s gonna make it through the first date.”

She turned her back on Jason’s boisterous laughter. She was determined to prove her point. After all, there had to be one man in Gotham City that wasn’t afraid of her, right? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The rest of her week had gone as smoothly as Monday had to say the least.

Tuesday’s date was crashed by Kagami’s foil. One look at her slicing the bread and he didn’t even make it to the table.

Wednesday’s date was a double date with Luka and Chloe. Marinette begged Tikki to lend her a little luck, but the small God would do no such thing. At least this guy made it past drinks. Marinette almost cheered until Luka donned his infamous stare. She watched as her date squirmed uncomfortably before excusing himself for the bathroom, never returning.

Thursday’s date ended with the man strung up by his ankles, none other than Nightwing and Red Robin dropping in to apologize, claiming they thought he was trying to mug her.

By Friday, she was ready to cancel her date before it even began.

“Adrien, you guys are making it impossible to even think about dating.” She collapsed on the couch, letting out a small whine.

“I think that’s kind of the point Mari, besides, you’re a working woman now, shouldn’t you be focusing on your career-”

Adrien paused as his eyes narrowed in on Marinette’s hand mocking his lecture. Her hand paused as she noticed his now silent voice. Meeting his eyes, she simply shrugged.

“You sound like my mom. She’s worried that I’m too worried about dating but guess what? I kind of missed out on that experience in high school pining after a guy who wasn’t even interested!”

They both chuckled as they remembered the awkward dance they both did from the time they were 13.

“So what are you going to do about the date tonight?”

Marinette shrugged once more as she pulled at a piece of her hair, twirling it around her finger.

“Who is on date duty tonight?”

“First of all, it’s not called date duty,” he waved off the pointed look Marinette gave him before continuing, “and it was supposed to be Jagged and Penny but in case they fail, Tony is on backup duty and Jason is on backup, backup duty.”

“Not date duty my ass.”

Marinette sighed longingly as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

“I’m giving this one more chance before I swear off dating forever.”

Adrien chuckled before offering his hand to pull her into a standing position.

“Well, guess you better prepare to look good. After all, they always say if you’re gonna go out, at least do it in style.”

Marinette rolled her eyes as she pushed Adrien to the couch, ignoring his protests. If this was going to be her last date, then maybe he had a point of going out in style.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  .

Marinette pulled at her dress nervously as a black limo approached her outside of her apartment. She had checked the perimeter once as Marinette and once more as Ladybug; there was no sign of Jagged or Penny. Somehow though, that didn’t calm her nerves.

As the limo pulled to a stop, a man stepped out of the back seat causing her breath to hitch in her throat. As if him being drop-dead gorgeous wasn’t enough, her worst fears stepped out from behind him, wide grins on their faces.

“Oi, there she is Penny! Marinette, we tried calling you but you sent us straight to voicemail, that wasn’t very rock n’ roll of you. Luckily, this nice man right here was there to give us a ride, right Penny?”

Penny nodded sweetly as if the two of them were innocent victims of Marinette’s forgetfulness. She wanted to turn right back into her apartment and never leave again, but a small hand grasped hers, pulling it up to their lips, as soft and gentle as his movements.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I have heard many stories of you from my brothers and father. You seem to have impressed many powerful people such as the two strays I picked up off the streets earlier.”

His smile was playful as it coaxed a small laugh from her. It helped even more to see Jagged panicking in the background at the sight of the small gesture. This man, no, his name was Damian. Damian had already broken through the first wall without even knowing it. Marinette let herself feel a spark of hope at the thought of finally making it through a first date.

“Anywho, now that we have arrived, I must apologize for leaving you two here, how does the saying go? ‘High and dry?’ but I do have a date to continue.” He nodded to Penny and Jagged leaving them both with their jaws almost touching the ground.

If she had a moment, Marinette might’ve taken a photo, but she instead quickly grabbed Damian’s arm, shutting the limo door before either could protest. She didn’t bother to release the breath she had been holding until the apartments were gone from the rearview mirror.

“I am so sorry about them, they-” she tried to let the apology spill out of her mouth but Damian simply shook his head, that same playful smile monopolizing his face.

“I am fully aware of the so-called ‘date duty’ your friends have. After all, my brother is in charge of the scheduling.”

It was Marinette’s turn for her jaw to drop. This was Jason’s brother? The literal spawn of satan as Jason had put it. There was no way. He was so nice, and such a gentleman, there was no way they could be the same person.

“How come nobody ever told me you were in town? Last time Jason introduced me to the family, he made sure to wait for when you left on a business trip. I’ve only ever been invited over when you’re not there!”

Damian chuckled as if this was a normal occurrence.

“They knew I had a crush on you ever since I watched your alter ego take down an akuma three times your size. It was only a matter of time until I asked you out, but with Jason observing your every date, he made it quite difficult.”

Marinette felt her face flush as his words washed over her. A man that was actually interested in her and was willing to take on the trouble a date with her could mean? She lightly pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“You know it’s only going to get worse from here right? Like, Jagged and Penny were only the first round worse.”

Damian leaned in, placing his hand overtop hers, that smile of his killing her slowly.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Marinette nodded as she leaned closer, nearly closing the gap between them, her heart racing from the distance.

“I borrowed his rotation schedule and have prepared for every incident that could occur tonight.”

Marinette couldn’t help the words that slipped out of her mouth.

“I think I might love you.” Immediately she slapped her hand over her mouth letting out a string of apologies as she scooched away from the red-faced man. He cleared his throat, trying to overcome his shock as his smile pulled into a small smirk.

“Don’t apologize, just tell me again if you feel the same after we’ve finished the date.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Somehow, they managed to make it through dinner without a single hiccup. It was suspicious, but she was having too good of a time to care. She fell in love immediately with his animals as he showed off his many photos, commenting on whichever one seemed to make her melt the most.

They talked about where they had gone to college, where they were working now and what they were hoping for their futures. Marinette felt her heart swell with excitement for how compatible they were, it almost made tonight ending that much more painful.

As they stepped out of the restaurant, Marinette heard a familiar voice that made her blood run cold.

“Do you know who I am? I could buy this whole place and then you’d have to let me in! I’m the damn Ironman, doesn’t that count for something?”

The poor hostess was shaking her head, trying to apologize to the other guests for the wait he was causing. Marinette let out a defeated sigh as she took a step forward to intervene, but Damian’s hand intertwined with hers pulling her in the opposite direction.

“There aren’t too many places in Gotham City that Tony Stark isn’t banned from. However, you can thank my father for that. He agreed for me to host my dinner at his restaurant to nullify backup number 2, Tony Stark.”

Marinette almost wanted to laugh at the irony of a billionaire being banned from a small Italian restaurant in Gotham.

“There’s not much that Uncle Tony can’t fix by throwing money at it, but I suppose that’s pointless when it’s another billionaire causing the said problem.”

Damian sent her a wink that warmed her to her core. They decided to ditch the limo in favor of walking home, spending more time with each other coincidentally. Marinette felt her mind racing like she was in middle school once again planning her imaginary wedding and their future hamster.

He was everything she had hoped to find in a man and so much more. She honestly regretted not meeting him sooner, it would’ve saved her so much trouble over the years.

She opened her mouth, only to close it immediately as her eyes narrowed in on a figure leaning against her apartment building.

“Jason, what are you doing here? There’s no date to ruin now and I finally found a guy who can’t be scared off by your stupid date duty.”

She crossed her arms in defiance but Jason paid her no mind.

“Damian, I didn’t know you were home so soon. I would’ve locked you up in the Batcave to make sure this would’ve never happened.”

Damian scoffed beside her as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“As if you could.”

The two men were locked in a staredown, leaving Marinette to wilt in the tension that had formed. She moved towards her apartment, only to be stopped by Damian’s hand for the third time tonight.

Turning her back to Jason, she watched as he brought her hand to his lips, his kiss still as gentle and soft as the first when he had given her hours earlier. She ignored Jason’s protest as she pulled his hand forward placing a quick peck on his lips.

The man’s face matched her own in shades of red.

“Does this mean you would be interested in a second date?”

Marinette nodded furiously before waving him goodnight, darting past Jason’s brooding figure.

“This is not the end of it Marinette!”

Jason’s threats felt empty compared to the excitement racing in her heart. She had finally broken the cycle of never-ending first dates and boy, did it feel good.

Permanent Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy

[toosicktoocare]

prompt:  Yay it's finally letting me ask you! I'm wondering if you could do anything with sick Jason? that'd be awesome. thank you for taking the time to read this :). and also, you're easily my favorite author, and I love you so much. thank you for all you do <3 - anon

prompt:  Hey there. Could you do anything, like literally anything with sick!Jason? - @lettheseabirdscry

“Is everyone in position?”

Tim spares a glance down to see Damian crouched behind a large trash bin, the Robin’s starting position for the recon mission Bruce called all of the bats too, but when bringing his gaze back to the rooftop across from him, it’s empty.

“Hood’s not here,” Tim informs with a frown, unable to shake this nagging feeling that something’s wrong.

“Unsurprising,” Damian scoffs into the comms, his flat tone clashing with Bruce’s deep sigh.

“Robin,” Dick warns over the comms. “One sec; I’ll call him.”

Tim waits, staring hard at the empty spot across from him as if expecting Jason to just manifest before his very eyes, to just stretch through reality’s fabric with some quip about being fashionably late.

“Damn. No answer. Oracle, can we get a ping on his location?”

“He’s probably out becoming intoxicated with Harper.”

Tim doesn’t need to see Damian’s face to know the pull of muted disgust twisting at his lips.

“Arsenal’s out of town,” Barbara mutters flatly in the comm. “And Hood’s phone tracker is showing he’s in his apartment. I can’t get much of a read on anything else. Looks like he finally cashed in on his word that he was going to rig his security systems to block us out.”

“We should move forward with the mission without him.”

Tim considers nudging a loose brick over the ledge of the roof, right above Damian. “He said he’d be here.” Tim knows Jason is a lot of things; he knows that Jason thrives off of disappointing his family, but he’s not one to go back on his word, not with something like this.

“Maybe something came up in Crime Alley? He did say he’d meet us after patrol.”

Tim can hear the worry hidden behind Dick’s easy tone, and he assumes Dick’s carefully redistributing his concern, spreading it out evenly so he doesn’t lose his cool.

“Huh,” Barbara mutters absently into the comms. “His phone tracker says he’s been in his apartment all day.”

“Maybe he left his phone in his apartment?”

“I don’t know. I’ve pulled security camera feeds from Crime Alley, hitting all the locations he frequents, and... well, nothing. Not a single sight of him all day.”

Tim stands fully, narrowly scanning his surroundings for any sign of Jason. He can’t shake the uneasy pull at his chest, and though he’s not physically close to the others, he assumes the feeling’s mutual based on the silence that follows.

“B, I don’t like this. He promised me he’d be here.”

Dick’s no longer working to hide his concern, and that just heightens Tim’s anxiety that something isn’t right. He tries to puzzle together and explanation based on the four times he’s seen Jason this week: twice in Crime Alley on patrol, once two days ago at the Bat Cave, and yesterday walking out of a convenience store. He can’t recall anything out of the ordinary, but Jason’s closed off, more so thanks to the lingering pull of the Lazarus Pit, so normal, outward, physical appearances mean little to nothing.

“Can we delay the recon?” Tim asks. “I’m only ten minutes from his apartment. I can go check and see if he’s there.”

“I don’t want you to go alone.”

“B,” Tim fights back with a groan. “You and Nightwing are thirty minutes out from my location. I can be there and back before you even get here.”

“Take Robin,” Dick says, and Tim has to fight back the unconscious need to sigh loudly. “I know you’re capable, Red, but humor me. You two are stronger together.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

Damian’s voice is bleeding annoyance, and for once, Tim can agree with how he’s feeling.

“No,” Bruce mutters, sounding almost distracted. “Hood has made many enemies since coming back to Gotham, and you have no idea what you are walking into. You both go, and you both come back immediately if he’s not there.”

“Keep the line open, and stay in contact, Little Wings.”

Tim rolls his eyes and grapple hooks off the building, landing near Damian. “Okay,” he mutters into the comm, and Damian only scoffs at him and starts off toward Jason’s apartment, leaving Tim to catch up.

***

“You’re going to hack his security system?”

“Yes?” Tim frowns at Damian. “How else are we going to get in?” He starts tapping at a keypad outside of Jason’s apartment door.

“Knocking?”

“Tried that once,” Tim mutters, mind half-focused on the conversation and half-focused on working around Jason’s security. “Almost got shot.”

“You what?” Dick’s voice is alarmed in Tim’s ear, but he disregards it. 

“And you think breaking and entering won’t get us shot?”

Tim shrugs, working around the final code until he hears multiple locks click open. “Don’t get hit,” he mutters, slowly opening the door. He tenses to alert, and he can see Damian match his stance at his side.

They step inside, quietly and carefully, and though Tim’s been here before, he’ll never not be mutely surprised at how domestic the entire place is. There are books stacked on a small coffee table. A blanket’s draped across the couch, and the TV’s on with the sound muted. The lights are on in his living room, kitchen, and bathroom.

Tim glances at Damian, sharing a silent conversation before they begin their quick, quiet search. Tim starts to the kitchen while Damian pads silently down the hall.

The kitchen’s a mess. Dishes are piled high in the sink and are littering the small kitchen table. There’s a bag on a counter, the same bag Tim remembers seeing Jason walk out of the convenience store with. He moves to it, looking to see various medicines tipped over in the bag. Frowning, he makes to pick one up, but then he hears a very loud gun shot accompanied by a very uncharacteristic curse.

“Damian!” Tim drops the bag and whips out of the kitchen to the bedroom, ripping his domino off as he walks in to see Jason shakily propping himself up on one elbow in bed with an even shakier hand aiming a gun at Damian.

“Jason, stop! It’s just us!”

“Was that a gun shot?”

Tim ignores Dick’s frantic question in his ear, instead edging around the room, eyes searching over Damian in the dark. “Were you hit?”

“Of course not,” Damian spits out, stepping forward toward the barrel of the gun and ripping it from Jason’s hand. He clicks the safety and drops the gun to the floor, and then he’s tugging a glove off and slapping a hard hand to Jason’s forehead, interrupting Jason’s deep, wet coughing.

Damian clicks his tongue, a frowm sharp on his face. “You’re burning up.”

Jason weakly slaps Damian’s hand away, staring a look filled to the brim with sharp daggers between the two, stopping on Tim.

“Did you break into my fucking apartment? Again?”

“Tim, what the hell is going on?”

Ignoring Dick once more, Tim reaches around to hit the light switch on the wall, frowning when Jason winces hard.

“You didn’t show up for the recon,” Tim supplies, his stomach twisting at the sight of Jason, of the angry red splotches coloring his otherwise pale cheeks, the sweat shining on his forehead, the inconsistent shivers wracking his broad frame. He studies the way Jason’s face twists around his words.

“That’s because it’s Thursday.”

Tim’s heart clashes with worry, and he and Damian share a glance. He’s surprised to see Damian sporting a similar look of muted concern.

“Jay, it’s Friday.”

“No, it ain’t,” Jason grumbles, hand slapping around on his bed until he finds his phone.

Tim watches as Jason’s face falls.

“Oh.” Jason spares a glance through his messages, unable to read much because his headache is making it hard to concentrate. He looks up from his phone, turning to see a rubber bullet lodged into the wall beside Damian’s head. “Did I hit you?”

“No,” Damian mutters, frowning. He slips around the room, pausing by Tim on his way out. “I’m going to talk with Father and Grayson. You should get a read on his fever.”

Nodding, Tim waits until he can hear Damian’s quick talking with Dick and Bruce before he moves to Jason’s bathroom to find a thermometer, snagging a traditional, under the tongue, mercury one before making his way back to Jason’s room.

“How long have you been sick?”

“How did you hack into my security systems again?”

Tim sighs, cocks his head to the side. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Fuck,” is all Jason replies with, and he takes the thermometer Tim hands him and slips it under his tongue.

“Three minutes,” Tim says, ignoring the sharp look Jason shoots him. “You know they make thermometers now that will tell you your temperature in seconds, right? Why the hell do you have this old thing?”

“Alfred left it a few months ago.”

“No talking,” Tim points out, and Jason glares hard under glassy eyes.

“Then stop asking me fucking questions.”

Tim’s mouth snaps shut, and once he counts to the 180th second, he leans forward and snags the thermometer from Jason’s lips, studying the 102.4 degree reading, equating it with Jason’s other, apparent symptoms.

“Have you been around anyone who’s had the flu recently?”

“I don’t have the flu,” Jason mutters despite the chesty coughs that rip up his throat. “Just a cold.”

Tim takes a step back and crosses his arms. “High fever, coughing, chills, I imagine you have a headache based on the wince when I turned on the lights, and you probably have a sore throat since your voice is physically hurting my ears.”

“What? Are you a doctor now?”

“No, I’m just not an idiot,” Tim spits back, and Jason only grunts and flops back against his pillow, tugging his blanket up with a hiss.

“Give me a minute, and I’ll suit up.”

Tim... does not expect that, and he’s about to scold Jason in a way he’s sure would make Dick proud when Damian slips back into the room.

“Father called Clark. They are pulling in backup for the recon.”

“Well, why’d he go and do something stupid like that?”

Tim rips his eyes from Damian back to Jason to see Jason shuffling around his room for his suit.

“Jason, what the hell?” Tim spits out, moving to Jason’s side when Jason starts to sway. “Sit down.” He nudges Jason back toward the bed, but Jason, despite how sick he is, fights against him.

“We have a recon, don’t we?” He turns to Damian and barks out a cough. “Demon, call B and tell him we’re coming.”

“Todd, you’re too sick. You’d just hold us back.”

Tim takes the distraction to lightly shove Jason back onto the bed.

“I think I’d rather have Dick here,” Jason groans, coughing harshly into his pillow. “At least he has good bedside manner.”

“He and father are already on their way.”

“Fantastic,” Jason growls, curling in on himself and coughing harshly.

Tim moves to pull the blankets up over Jason’s shivering frame, stopping when Damian’s hand wraps around his wrist. “Let me go, Dami.”

“No. I have very specific instructions to relocate you away from Todd.”

“What the hell? Why?” Tim digs his heels into the floor when Damian pulls on his wrist, but he stumbles forward when Jason lazily kicks him in the back of the leg.

“No spleen, idiot. Get the fuck outta here.”

“I’m fine,” Tim tries, but Damian’s grip is hard enough to bruise, so he relents with a loud sigh. “Jesus, fine...” He rips his hand free and stalks to the door. “Get him medicine and make sure he doesn’t die.”

***

The deep inhale of nicotine burns Jason’s lungs and brings forth a chesty round of coughing that hurts. He absently rubs at his chest, shivering, and takes in another puff of his cigarette, and then another, desperately repeating this action to chase away the edge of angered anxiety that comes when he’s near Bruce. He leans over the balcony with another shiver, watching his shaking exhale cloud before him.

He hears the balcony door open, but the footsteps are too light to be Bruce’s. They are also too determined to be Tim’s, and too deliberate to be Damian’s. He doesn’t look back when a blanket is draped over his shoulders, and he only scoffs quietly when Dick plucks the cigarette from his fingers and drops it over the side of the balcony.

“You would still smoke when you have the flu.”

Jason doesn’t reply, not finding the energy for a snarky retort. “What have you all been doing out there?” he asks instead, tugging the blanket tighter around him to fend off the chills.

“Damian’s cleaned your kitchen, and now he’s reorganizing your movie collection. Tim started reading one of your books, but he fell asleep. And Bruce has been staring at your bedroom door as if willing you to run out and give him a big, bear hug.”

Jason huffs out a laugh that quickly morphs into deep coughs. He can feel Dick’s hand on his back as he coughs into his shoulder.

“And you?”

“Oh, I’m alternating between Candy Crush and Words with Friends with Barbara. She’s kicking my ass.”

Jason smiles, tired but genuine, feeling the anxiety flutter off with Dick’s presence. “How long til you all get the fuck out?”

“I don’t think Bruce is going to leave until he’s sure you are okay. Not sure that we can wake Tim right now, and Damian won’t leave until Bruce does.”

“And you?” Jason repeats, and Dick cocks his head to the side with an easy smile.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to stay.”

Humming, Jason shivers again, and he allows Dick to guide him back into his room and to his bed. Dick carefully tucks him in, and Jason’s too tired and too feverish to mind.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps out suddenly, and Dick’s hands freeze, and he frowns.

“For what?”

“I promised I would show up.”

“Hey, Jay, it’s okay. I’m just glad you’re safe.” Dick brushes the back of his hand against Jason’s forehead, a sympathetic hum slipping up his throat at the heat. “No more smoke breaks until you’re better. You’re still burning up.”

“You’re saying you’ll support my chain smoking when I’m all better?” Jason bats his eyelashes, and Dick sighs and stands, swatting at Jason’s covered leg.

“Don’t twist my words. I’m going to toss all your cigarette packs out.”

Jason growls lightly, a few coughs mixing with it, and he curls onto his side, wishing the stupid medicine Damian forced into him would kick in a lot faster. “You have until 99,” he mutters to Dick, who’s already filling a small trash bin with cigarette packs.

“What?”

“99,” Jason repeats with a harsh cough that hurts his chest. “When my temp hits 99, I want you all out.” There’s no heat to his tone, and he struggles against the fatigue pulling against him.

“99,” Dick clarifies with a soft smile. “You got it, Jaybird.”

[akimmito]

I’ll still be with you

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Master List

Chapter 3: Moon

Initially, I would only be in Paris for a couple of days, but that night changed everything.

No matter how much I think about it, I can't see that it was otherwise.

Nor do I want it to have been.

Red Robin jumps off Wayne Tower when he hears Red Hood calling for a backup in a showdown against Penguin's some goons, he's the closest to his location and the others are busy on the other side of town dealing with their own problems.

Nights like that, cold and with bright silver clouds that insist on hiding the moon, remind him of that night in Paris, of her blue eyes illuminated by a moon that managed to escape from the spongy trap in which it was. He smiles a little, even though he should be more focused on his mission, but the feeling of running and flying through the skies of Gotham is something he will miss, his nights are numbered.

Stopping the Penguin's goons isn't easy, they managed to cause them a couple of problems but they finish fast enough to hear Batman's words perfectly. Tim barely registers what Jason says next to him, focusing solely on Bruce's voice.

"When everyone's done, we'll see you in the cave."

Cold, distant, like a dagger lazily embedded in a lung. The tone he occupies when one of them has disappointed him, lately it's Damian who has received it, even though the teenager has stopped being the ten-year-old brat who came to the mansion, but what for them was four long years of struggle for Bruce it was just a few months. He didn't see Damian's growth, nor did he see his downfalls, nor did he see what ended up throwing down the barriers that had been created years ago between him and everyone else.

Batman doesn't see that his Robin is capable of leaving the nest, he just needs to realize that his wings are strong enough to fly alone. Tim had a hard time, but perhaps it was because of the chains with which he tied his wings himself, convinced that he needed them.

Back in the cave, Tim waits for Damian's arrival. They're not the closest, years of conflict don't disappear in months, but the last year has been difficult for Robin, stumbling again where it was already leveled ground and he cannot avoid the guilt generated by the thought that it was his obsession with bring back to Bruce what has generated the unhappiness of the youngest.

When Damian arrives, their gazes meet for a brief moment, but it's enough for him. Tim leaves the cape and hood on the back of the chair and walks out, not wanting to hear the inevitable debacle in which the Batman-Robin relationship will end, a relationship of partners that he fought so hard to reestablish and that, without being able to do anything to stop it, it has crashed into an unbreakable wall. This time it's not Damian's fault, no, it's Bruce's fault.

He enters the mansion and walks aimlessly, stopping in the dining room as he lets himself be invaded by the memories of his adolescence being Robin, then becoming Red Robin, the moments when he felt lost and the few times he thought were if not happy, enjoyable.

It feels as if tomorrow everything will disappear in front of his eyes, but it's only the inevitable goodbye to the only place he had ever considered home that forces him to reminisce about those times. These were not simple times, there is nothing simple about being a vigilante, but it was fun.

He settles into a chair and waits, the what? He's not sure, but he knows to wait. Learn to trust your instincts, she had said, you trust the facts too much, sometimes what the soul says can be right. Five months have passed since the last time they met, it will soon be her birthday.

"Master Tim."

"Alfred, how is Damian?" He doesn't look at the butler, knowing this is the last time he speak to him.

"Master Bruce has seated him on the bench indefinitely." The old man goes to the kitchen leaving Tim alone again, at that moment he directs his gaze towards him. He lets out a sigh before standing up, his gaze now fixed on the finely varnished table. "You know, Master Tim? The day you first arrived at the mansion, I didn't think you would become so important to this family. "

"Alfred..."

"Please take good care of yourself. Don't forget to sleep at least four hours a day, eat all three times of day, and send me photos of the family you will form. "Tim feels his eyes sting when he sees Alfred's kind smile, especially when the man hands him a small package of his name.

To: Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne

A memory of: Alfred Pennyworth

"I...Thank you…."

Tim hugs the butler tightly, feeling the hug, clinging to his understanding and affection.

"As soon as I settle in, I will get in touch with you.” He assures the man who became an example for him, Alfred was always a constant in everyone's life, always close, supporting them in the most difficult moments and comforting them when the anguish overcame them. The cornerstone of the Wayne family.

"I'll be waiting."

Tim allows himself a small smile, he will miss Alfred very much. He may be the person he will miss the most in the whole family, even above Dick.

"Al... Oh, Tim. Something happens?" Dick looks curiously at the hug, the atmosphere in the dining room feels gloomy, and it gives him the feeling that not only has he interrupted an important moment but he also just learned something that he should not, even if he does not know what it is.

"I'll go, Dick."

"You go? Why?"

"Master Tim has a very important mission." He smiles again, but without the shadow of goodbye reflected in his gesture.

A very important mission, indeed.

The next days he occupies to put Wayne Enterprise in order, weighing in whether to leave everything in the hands of Bruce or place Damian as a direct heir. He also begins to appear less and less as Red Robin, not for his family, but so that the city does not suddenly feel the disappearance of one of its vigilantes.

Subtly and gently he loses himself in his routine, cutting off communication with the family. The only thing that interrupts his final preparations is an unexpected visit from Dick, catching him off guard after returning early from a patrol.

Nightwing awaits him on the roof of his building, holding a box of cakes and two coffees.

The two guards settle on the old theater, both with a coffee and cakes in the middle of the two.

"When you go?" Dick breaks the silence, his gaze is fixed on the dark horizon.

“Two more weeks, there are still projects I need to oversee on Wayne Enterprise, plus an upgrade for the steeple that I want to get finished.”

"Alfred said it's an important mission, does it really require you to disappear?" Dick looks at him worriedly and Tim can't help wanting to tell him everything, to trust his brother like he used to, but he can't it.

"Yeah.”

"When you will return?"

"I'll not come back…"

They are both silent, focused on anything but each other. The truth told is too awkward and sour, the realization that it might be the last conversation they have and that they will never see each other again weighs heavily on their shoulders.

Small drops begin to fall on them, but neither is fazed.

"Tim. Take Damian with you."

"What?"

“He… Damian hadn't killed anyone, not even by accident, in three years; It sure feels bad on its own, but B doesn't make it any easier. I tried, Timmy, but I can't help him and if he keeps wanting to prove himself to B, it'll get worse. ”The rain begins to fall more insistently on them and is their signal to get up.

Tim lets him into his residence, allowing him to settle in while he goes over the words spoken by the older man, he removes the hood and leaves it on one of the sofa, revealing the dark circles and the paleness of his face.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"Five days, I need to finish everything..."

"You must rest a little."

Tim smiles bleakly and settles on the couch across from his brother.

"I'll rest when I get out of Gotham… About Damian, are you sure you want me to take him?" He examines the older man's face, his mask has been removed, and his expression lines reflect the tenseness of his entire body. "The last word is his, but if he accepts, you will no longer see him. You adore it, if you could you would have adopted him."

"And that's why I want the best for him, if I take him to Blüdhaven it will be the same. I never get rid of B nor in another city, will the same happen to him... I want Damian to be happy, to find his own path without fear of disappointing someone, without the expectations that being a Wayne puts on him. "

"Fine." He gets up and walks into his little secluded workroom, the only computers that aren't connected to either WE or the cave or the bell tower, has his own technology designed by him and funded by Drake Inc., no way let Batman know about the information stored there.

And if you are taking Damian, he must include him in his plans and let her know.

"Tim, what are you doing there?"

"You asked me to take Damian, I must have everything ready to offer to come with me."

Later, he goes into his work ignoring Dick, even ignoring the goodbye and the request to rest; Tim has all his concentration focused on the new documents that he must write and the legal papers that he must forge in case of taking Damian with him.

Damian won't accept it, least of all coming from me.

If I have the documents ready tomorrow, I will look for him... I hope this doesn't delay my plans.

------

Tag list: @incredulous-reader @dnsakina

[what-if-i-imagine]

Can you write a fic about the bay us going on a quadruple date? Dick with Wally, Jason with Roy, Tim with Kon, and Dami with Jon. I just think that would be chaotic and amazing

I’m so sorry about how long this took to write but I finally got the boost of motivation combined with a free schedule to finish it!

Ao3 Link

“This is so boring,” Superboy I complained in a mumble beside Red Robin. They were watching the empty warehouse from the rafters laying on their stomachs, waiting like they had for three nights now. The fresh Sicilan air was something more similar to Gotham’s in the warehouse bogged down by the deaths that had happened in its walls as well as the unkempt state of it all.

“It’s a stakeout, what did you expect?” Red Robin asked his partner, glancing down at the watch he had brought. “If what we heard is true, they should be on their way here with the hostages. A family of three with links to a powerful crime family in Gotham.”

“It still doesn’t make sense,” Superboy I said, shaking his head. “Why did they go after this family? From the intel you gathered, they’re from either an Australian or Puerto Rican crime family with no links to the Sicialian Mafia or any of its criminal organizations. What would our guys want with them?”

“That’s what we are here to find out,” Red Robin replied before pressing his index and middle finger to the com by his ear. “Are any of you there?”

“Orical patched us in, we’re here,” Nightwing replied in his left ear. “Flash and I are in place.”

“Superboy II and I are also in place,” Robin said.

“Are you two sure you don’t want to go back to Red Robin and my hotel?” Superboy I asked, clearly worried for the two teenage boys. “We can handle this without you.”

“I can assure you Superboy, we have fought much worse than Siciilian crime lords without backup,” Robin assured without being reassuring. The boy had definitely softened in his older teenage years, but was still as prickly as ever when his skills were hinted at being doubted. If the job weren’t so dangerous, Red Robin and Nightwing might consider their brother’s behavior adorable.

“I told you to leave this case to me but you never listen,” Red Robin mumbled.

“And I believed Superboy and I were picking a different case. It’s not my fault we didn’t realize they were connected,” Robin huffed. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“That won't be a problem,” Nightwing chimed in. “They’re here.”

“Just like you said Red Robin. There’s a family of three in the truck,” Flash said through the coms after a short whoosh of air. “Two fathers and a teenage girl. They all have bags over their head with their wrists and ankles bound, wrists in front of them.”

“Thanks Flash,” Superboy I said. “What else did you see?”

“There are four henchemn in the back of the truck guarding them. The crime lord we’ve been after is in the front with his second in command and the driver. They’re saying something about teaching them a lesson.”

“Probably referring to their family,” Red Robin explained. “We know these three are only pawns in their family's game. I doubt they would get the desired effect by killing them.”

“If they’re so important, they wouldn’t have been kidnapped at all,” Nightwing agreed. “But we could be wrong. These men could be more dangerous than we thought. We didn’t even notice all of this was the same case until we ran into each other in town.”

That was true, and Red Robin let himself consider it a moment.

He and Superboy had arrived in Palermo as Tim Drake and Conner Luther-Kent, under the guise of a vacationing billionaire couple. In reality, they had gone to Sicily chasing a case as their alter egos.

The case had seemed cut and dry enough. A small offshoot of the Sicilian Mafia had been creating drugs in a factory not far from Palermo and dealing them in Gotham. It was a next level drug that the Gotham civilians had taken to calling The Dust of Rome, as lame as it sounded, misdirecting the partners at first before Red Robin figured out the factory’s true location.

While outside of costume in town, they had run into Nightwing and Flash as Dick and Wally Grayson-West. Once in the safe confines of their hotel room, Nightwing had explained they had chased a gang of arms dealers from Gotham to Italy, and now to Sicily. It didn’t take long for them to realize they were chasing the same guy and team up.

That night while on their way to stalk the warehouse the second time for Red Robin and Superboy I, they ran into Robin and Superboy II who were the only ones there not working undercover. They had explained that they arrived in Sicily that day for the case Robin had chosen in place of the one Red Robin had taken. It was a case much simpler than the one the other four were following, just a gang stirring up too much trouble in Gotham that needed stopping, but none of them were blinded to the truth. Despite Batman and Oracle's careful checks of all three cases, they hadn’t realized they were all the same group.

There could have been more to it than they were seeing judging by the confusion it was able to cause among the three detectives, two kryptonian hybrids and speedster. Red Robin didn't pay it much thought though. As their brother said, they would burn that bridge when they crossed it (definitely not the best advice, but that was to be expected from the person who gave it).

Cutting off Red Robin’s thoughts was the opening of the warehouse doors. The comms went silent as everyone froze in their positions to listen in on the scene about to unfold.

The guards were half carrying half pushing the family of three into the middle of the wearhouse before they were roughly shoved to sit on their knees side by side. The guards each put a gun to the back of one of their heads with the last one standing at the end. The crime lord they had been chasing circled to stand in front of the family with his right hand man by his side typing away at his phone.

“Remove the hoods,” the crime lord instructed. The guards obeyed and pulled them off, tossing them to the side at the exact same time like a choreographed song and dance.

From where he sat, Red Robin couldn’t see the faces of the family. He didn’t think it was really important, but Nightwing’s sharp intake of breath told him otherwise.

“What is it,” Robin hissed in a whisper.

Before Nightwing could answer, the teenage girl threw herself into one of her father’s lap. Her sobbing voice echoed through the warehouse as she spoke in rapid, pleading spanish, too fast for Red Robin to properly translate.

The guard who had been holding a gun to her head roughly grabbed her by her red hair and pulled her back into a sitting position, shouting for her not to move. The girl continued to cry and plead, and her father who she had thrown herself over’s voice joined the rapid spanish. He wasn’t crying or pleading, instead yelling something to the guard. Red Robin was able to pick out enough to know he was yelling for the guard not to touch his daughter.

Something about the man’s voice sent off alarms in Red Robin’s head. It was familiar. Too familiar, especially when mixed with that fast paced spanish and biting tone.

“Papi,” the girl cried as she tried to go back to hiding in the safety of her father’s lap. The gun pushed against her head stopped her from moving, along with her father’s quick order.

“Mija don’t.”

“Papi, Papa, tengo miedo,” the girl blubbered through her tears, Her accent was off to Red Robin’s ears, raising another red flag. It seemed too forced, with a completely different accent being carefully covered up underneath.

“Let my husband and daughter go,” the man snapped, his accent purposely laid on thick. But Red Robin could recognize the hidden lower Gotham from a mile away in his sleep, even if these men couldn’t. “It is me you want, they have done nothing wrong!”

“You are not really in a place to be making demands Mr. Gunn,” the boss tisked.

“Pero, it’s time,” the man’s husband spoke softly. He had no thick hispanic accent like his husband and daughter, instead opting to take on an upper Gotham accent that almost reminded Red Robin of the people he worked with at galas during his daylife.

“Not like this,” Pero shook his head, chin meeting his chest.

“Papi,” the daughter whispered one last time.

Tim recognized the way the three had set it up. A question by one, followed by confermassion by the others through simply speaking in succession down the line. It wasn’t clever by any means, but for its purpose it was more than effective.

With what would be no warning from the gang member’s point of view, the three family members, who were in fact a real family but not the one they claimed to be, snapped quickly into action. Their bonds were gone in the blink of an eye with three of the gaurds’s guns now their own and said guards lying unconscious on the ground.

The husband, who was unnamed in the gangs' eyes, didn’t hesitate a second to disarm the last guard and shoot him in the knee while Pero and the daughter held the crime boss and his right hand man at gunpoint.

“This has been fun while it lasted Mr. La Rosa, but I’m afraid it ends here,” Pero said, now without the fake accent. “On your knees, now.”

The crime boss and right hand man obeyed the order and got down on their knees while the husband walked over with four pairs of cuffs of which each guard wore a matching pair on their wrists and ankles. The crime boss and right hand man were effortlessly stuck into them in the same fashion.

“In this folder is all of the proof of your trafficking that we need for you to go to prison for life,” the daughter explained, pulling out a manila folder she had pre stashed behind one of the crates close by. Her accent, just as her father’s, had slipped away into her real one. Instead of the masked lower Gotham of her father’s voice, she carried a mixture of lower Gotham and Russian that never failed to chill Red Robin with how empty and deeply emotional it managed to sound at the same time.

“When you wake up, you’ll already be behind bars for your crimes, and all those people will be free,” Pero said, before he and his daughter turned their guns around at the same time to harshly hit the men in the temple, rendering them completely unconscious.

As soon as they were under the belief that they were alone, the first father dropped his gun and cupped his daughter’s face, checking her for injuries.

“Where does it hurt?” he asked softly. His husband came over to stand beside them, gently stroking a hand through their daughter's hair.

“If doesn’t,” she reassured. “It was only a light tug, I’ve had worse.”

“It doesn’t matter if you’ve had worse,” the husband said in his original Star City dialect. “It shouldn’t have gotten that far. Next time we go undercover, try and use some of the self preservation skills we’ve taught you, yeah?”

“Yes dad,” she said, a smile clear in her voice.

“I’m impressed you didn’t shoot that guy for touching her,” Nightwing’s voice came as he dropped down from his hiding spot. The other five who had been hiding did the same, causing the family to whip around in shock.

“What are you all doing here?” Jason asked, not harsh but almost scolding.

“We should be asking you the same thing,” Red Robin said.

“We were closing a human trafficking case,” Roy explained. “Taking Scarlet on her first undercover mission.”

Nightwing looked over at Red Robin and he could practically hear the ‘I told you so’ regarding there having been more to the case.

“We have a lot to catch up on then,” Red Robin said, handing over a thick manila folder filled with all of the other six’s evidence they had collected. “Turn this in with your evidence. Not even the best lawyer money could buy can fight this. Meet us at the Rocco Forte Villa Igiea near the Permo bay when you’re done.”

~~~

“Of course you would go with the fanciest hotel you could,” Jason snorted, causing everyone to turn around. They stood in the lobby of the famous five star hotel, all now dressed in their everyday civilian clothing.

“We are a billionaire power couple, it’s what’s expected of us,” Conner shrugged, arm around Tim’s shoulders.

“So that was your cover story?” Jason asked, though it wasn’t a real question.

“It’s kind of hard to do undercover work when you’re famous,” Tim said. “I honestly expected better than Pero Gunn from you.”

“Flashing around my grandma’s name gets the job done quicker when I need to be kidnapped,” a grin tugged at Jason’s lips. “The Peter equivalent was just all Roy could pull out on the time crunch.”

“Speaking of, where is your handsome husband?” Dick asked with a slightly teasing tone.

“Dropping Sasha off at the airport. Oliver offered to babysit her, Duela, Biz and Lian while we were out of the country. We figured I could just text him the name of the restaurant when we got there,” Jason paused. “You are treating us to dinner, aren’t you? We did do your job for you after all.”

“I hate that you’re right,” Tim said with no real heat and a smile. “There's a great restaurant down the road I went to last time I was here, tell him to meet us there.”

“Great, I’m starving and all we’ve had to eat today was a salad and chicken nuggets from McDonalds.”

On the way to the restaurant and inside the waiting room, the four brothers and their partners caught up on life events they had missed out on, joking and chatting endlessly until they were seated.

“Sorry I’m late,” Roy said as he stepped up to the table. He was in his civics, in one of those trucker hats they all knew Jason barely tolerated. Dick had often joked about being surprised Jason didn’t try to go full Donna and burn all of them, but Jason always mumbled his reply that he married the man which meant he married the hats too.

“Sasha didn’t give you too much trouble at the airport?” Jason asked, leaning over to kiss him.

“Our little girl? Trouble? Never,” Roy grinned.

“Got it, so you both caused trouble together.”

“Speaking of, how have the kids been?” Dick asked. “Star City treating you nicely?”

“Weekly family hunts for corrupt capitalists and crooked businessmen that I’m free to shoot as much as I please,” Jason shrugged. “Yeah, I guess living in Green Arrow’s city has been nice so far.”

“Oh shut up you love it,” Roy said before turning to Dick, “It is nice being back in Star. The kids are loving getting to spend some quality time with my side of the family too, and Artemis has found some good work in the area. I can tell Jason, Ella and Sasha are itching for the Gotham streets though.”

“You can take the Gothemite out of Gotham but you can’t take the Gotham out of the Gothamite,” Tim nodded. “All three of them were born and bred.”

“Well Sasha was born in Russia, but basically,” Jason nodded. “I’m sure she was happy to see her favorite uncles, even if her actual favorite uncle and aunt weren’t there.”

“It would be insane if Duke and Cass ended up with the same case too,” Tim said. “It’s crazy enough all of us were working the same group without knowing it. Throw them, Steph and Chris into the mix and that would just be blatantly bad detective work on our parts.”

“Still would have been fun to have them here too though,” Jason shrugged.

“Wait a minute!” Jon’s face lit up. “Are we on a quadruple date right now?”

“Absolutely not,” Damian cut in. “I refuse to ever go on any sort of couple outing where I have to witness my brothers being disgusting with their partners.”

“No way Gremlin, this is totally a quadruple date,” Tim said. “You hating it cements that.”

“No, this is not a date, it is just a family dinner after an idiotically tangled mission,” Damian insisted.

“If it were a family dinner then Bruce, Cass, Duke and their significant other would be here too,” Dick said. “Sorry Little D, you need to face the facts. This is a quadruple date.”

“That’s an event to go in the scrap books,” Wally snorted. “Quadruple date with our out of six Wayne kids. It’d be a spectacle.”

“An event worthy of the circus,” Dick was smiling so wide his face was sure to split.

“I regret agreeing to this,” Jason said in a stage whisper to his husband. Roy chuckled while Dick squacked about Jason being on Damian’s side.

“Never a dull moment with these four,” Kon commented aside to Roy.

“Even two of them in a room is an event,” Roy agreed.

A pinched off piece of bread was tossed in Roy’s direction and he just laughed. They were surely disrupting the upper class dinners around them, but they couldn’t care less and they continued their impromptu date night.

[sqoiler]

spoiler: into the stephanie-verse

Lex Luthor made a multiverse machine, in order to mine Kryptonite from other dimensions. It was kinda a good idea, except the machine was faulty, and kept dragging other stuff from the multiverse into Lex’s earth as well. 

The League was dispatched to deal with the alternate versions of themselves that were brought into their Earth. Before he left, Batman assigned everyone in Gotham to guard the city from the various monsters and Rogues who roamed the city. 

Spoiler had just finished a fight with a female version of Oswald Cobblepot and was headed to Nightwing to help him deal with a pair of mischievous twins, when the air in front of her opened up and a dark shaped tumbled through. Spoiler grabbed her bo-staff and dropped into a crouch, wary. 

The shape sat up, and Spoiler absorbed the dark cape and pointy ears, the purple flashes on the suit, and the golden curls tumbling down her back. 

Spoiler met her own eyes. 

“Shit,” the other girl said, and she stood, brushing off her knees. Spoiler lowered her bo-staff and straightened, looking at herself curiously. “Did you pull me here?”

“No,” Spoiler said. “Lex Luthor made a machine….”

“Say no more,” the other girl said, and Spoiler noticed a yellow bat emblazoned on her chest. Her mouth fell open. 

“Batgirl?” she gasped. She vaguely recognized the suit from the images of the other timeline that she’d seen, months ago. 

“Yeah,” Batgirl said. “And you’re Spoiler. I haven’t been Spoiler in years, but you make it work. I like the half-mask, it’s nice.”

“Thanks,” Spoiler said, feeling a little ridiculous. “Sorry, I’ve never met an alternate version of myself before.”

“Me neither,” Batgirl admitted. “Although you always hear about it, don’t you.”

“Yeah,” Spoiler agreed. This was seriously surreal. Seeing herself--same height, a little longer hair, but standing so confidently? Spoiler blinked and told herself not to compare. They were different, after all. “So, Batgirl, huh? How’d...how’d you land that?”

“Cass gave it to me,” Batgirl said, shrugging. “When B died. But he’s back now, don’t worry.”

“Huh,” Spoiler said, and she remembered the mentions of Cass as Batgirl, too. “So where’s Babs, then?”

“You mean Babs is still Batgirl in your universe?” Batgirl asked, eyes wide. “This universe?” She gestured around them. Spoiler nodded. 

“Yeah, nobody else has ever been Batgirl,” Spoiler said. 

“That’s so fucking weird,” Batgirl said. “Babs hasn’t been Batgirl since before I started out, and that was like five years ago. You mean she didn’t get shot?”

“She did, but there was an implant,” Spoiler said. “So she’s better.”

“Wow. That’s great but--how do you survive without Oracle?” Batgirl asked. “I want my universe back.”

Spoiler agreed with her, and wondered how to put her back. Should she take her to Batman? Hm. For all the multiverse shenanigans she’d heard about, she really didn’t know how to deal with them, what the protocol was.

“Let’s go find Drake,” Spoiler said. “He just got back from a multiverse adventure.”

“Drake? Like the rapper?” 

“No, like Tim. My boyfriend? It’s his new code name.”

“Tim picked his own fucking last name? That’s so stupid,” Batgirl said, and although Spoiler agreed, she didn’t say that. Spoiler checked her trackers, and found that Drake was across the city. She got out her grapple, and Batgirl did the same. 

“Wait,” Batgirl called a minute later, when they were already in the air. They landed on the roof of the next building and Spoiler turned to her expectantly. “Did you say that he’s your boyfriend?” 

“Yeah,” Spoiler said. “Is he not?”

“Not since like, middle school!” Batgirl cried, and Spoiler rolled her eyes. 

“We don’t live in the same universe,” she reminded her. “Our Tims are probably totally different.”

“Yeah, right,” Batgirl said, and then there was a flash of purple light and Spoiler turned to face it. Two people appeared. One of them was in a purple bodysuit with a lightning bolt emblazoned on the chest, blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail. The other was wearing fishnet tights and a leather jacket, an armored purple unitard under the jacket and a skirt over that. Her blonde hair was long, nearly to her elbows, and free-flowing. The new pair blinked at Spoiler and Batgirl. 

“Holyfuckthat’susbutBats,” the girl with the lightning bolts said, her words tipping over each other, and Spoiler said, “Before today, I’d never been involved in multiverse shenanigans, and now this!” 

She gestured at the duo. 

“I’m Dart,” the speedster-Steph said, holding out a hand. Spoiler shook it, dumbfounded. 

“I’m Canary,” the other Steph said. “Violet Canary, but generally they just call me Canary.”

“Like Red and Gold Canaries,” Dart said gleefully. 

“....No,” Canary said. “I don’t know who that is.”

“Black Canary’s partners,” Dart said, rolling her eyes. “Cass and Jason.”

“Cass and Jason are Bats,” Batgirl said. “Not Canaries.”

“Not in my world,” Dart said. “What, in your universe is everyone a Bat?”

“Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Damian, Babs, Duke,” Spoiler rattled off.

“Duke?” Batgirl asked. 

“Yeah, none of those people are Bats in my world,” Dart said. “Dick’s a Super, Cass and Jason are Canaries, Damian’s a Lantern, Tim’s a Martian, Duke’s a Wonder, and Babs is Aquagirl. Or, well, she used to be, before the accident.”

“See?” Batgirl demanded, gesturing at Spoiler.

“I didn’t give her the implant!” Spoiler said. “It happened before I even started crime-fighting!”

“She’s not Oracle in your universe?” Canary asked, looking wildly startled. Spoiler threw her hands up. 

“Sorry that you guys landed in a garbage universe, I guess,” she said, and Dart patted her shoulder. 

“So this is your place, huh? Kinda nice,” she said. “You know, I’ve never really been in Gotham before? Not since I moved away, anyway.”

“Yeah, how the fuck are you a speedster?” Canary asked. “I’m not even a meta, and my job depends on me having superpowers.”

“I was going to ask the same question,” Batgirl said. 

“I mean, basically the same way everyone else did,” Dart said. “I made Wally tell me how he did it, who made Barry tell him how he did it, who made Jay tell him how he did it. And, uh, the rest is history.”

“But why were you with Wally--? Never mind,” Spoiler said. “We really need to find Drake.”

At Dart and Canary’s confused looks, Batgirl said in a loud whisper, “As in Tim. That’s his new codename. And yeah, we know it’s stupid.”

“Thank you, Batgirl,” Spoiler said loudly. “Let’s just go, yeah?”

“Won’t Batman snipe me?” Dart asked, and Canary asked Batgirl for a spare grapple. 

“He’s out of town,” Spoiler said. “Just follow us.”

“Sure thing,” Dart said. “Wait, what’s your codename?”

“Spoiler,” Spoiler said. “You mean you were never…?”

“I used to be Kid Flash, but never ‘Spoiler’, whoever that is,” Dart said. “Sorry.”

“Even I was Spoiler, and I’m not even a Bat,” Canary said, and Dart said, “Okay, we get it, I’m a weirdo among Stephanies. Let’s go.”

They went, and Spoiler wondered if the other Bats were also dealing with themselves. She was leading the way, which was weird, because she never led any ways. Maybe if it was just her and Tim, or something. 

Below her, Spoiler caught sight of a swarm of Clayfaces, and she had to stop. She yelled to the others to help her, and they dropped into the alley below. 

Fighting with only herself as backup was weird, Spoiler thought. Batgirl threw batarangs that had stuff inside them. Dart sped around confusing the Clayfaces and Spoiler brought her bo-staff down hard on one, but it just sloshed through his arm. Oops. 

“Cover your ears!” Canary yelled, and she threw a little device at a Clayface. It screamed, a loud noise that was what Spoiler assumed the Canary Cry sounded like. The Clayfaces barely reacted. 

From above, a dark shape descended. Spoiler could’ve cried in relief, even though she was sure it wasn’t her own Batman. 

Batman threw a device at a Clayface, which sent out some sort of signal that froze all the Clayfaces that weren’t already frozen by Batgirl’s batarangs. Icearangs? Whatever. 

Quick work was made of the Clayfaces, and then Batman led the Stephs back into the air. 

“You saved us!” Dart said. 

“Yes,” Batman said. Spoiler inspected their new friend. This Batman was shorter than Bruce, and the bat across her chest was purple. The eyes on the cowl glowed with purple light, but it was still unmistakably Batman. She had on purple lipstick, and Spoiler spotted a scar near her mouth. She knew who this was. 

“Holy shit,” Spoiler breathed, and beside her, the others seemed to come to the same conclusion. “You’re me.”

“I would argue that I’m me,” Batman said, her mouth twisting into a smirk. “But yes, I am another Stephanie Wayne.”

“Wayne?” Spoiler and Batgirl cried at the same time. 

“Fuck,” Dart said. “If that isn’t a weird last name to think of me having.” 

“It makes sense that circumstances would differ,” Canary said. “Although in my universe, I was never truly a Bat.”

“But Wayne?” Spoiler said, waving her hands. 

“Bruce actually adopted you?” Batgirl asked.

“No,” Batman said. “He left a portion of the estate to me in his will, and after I took up the mantle I changed my last name.”

“What the fuck,” Spoiler said, and Batgirl seemed of the same mind. 

“Why are you panicking? It’s not that weird,” Dart said. “And I mean, clearly you all aren’t Stephanie Allen.”

“Allen?” Batgirl repeated, her voice an octave higher.

“Sweet Jesus,” Batman said, and Spoiler pushed that image aside for examining at a later time. “The pair of you never shed ‘Brown’, didn’t you.”

“No!” Spoiler cried. 

“I’ve never even thought that was an option!” Batgirl said, sounding distraught.  

“I’ve just been daydreaming about the day Tim proposes so I can be anything besides a Brown,” Spoiler admitted.

“That’s disgusting,” Batman said. “You and Tim, really?”

“Why not?” Spoiler demanded. “Everyone seems to be of the same mind--what’s wrong with him?”

“I mean, besides that he’s an asshole?” Batgirl asked. “Uh, two words: Super. Girl.”

“I’ve never even met Supergirl,” Spoiler said, struggling to imagine herself dating Supergirl. 

“Tim’s dead,” Batman said flatly. “But I agree with Batgirl’s assessment.”

“I think Supergirl and Babs have a thing going on?” Dart said. “Maybe? But anyway I’m more of a Wonder Girl kinda gal myself.”

“Ditto,” Canary said. 

“Okay, I get it, you guys are hetero-shaming me,” Spoiler said, lifting her hands up. “For the record, I am bisexual.”

“Good,” Batman said. 

“Although, speaking of my lovely boyfriend, I should probably tell him about this….Stephplosion,” Spoiler said, waving her arms at them. She put her finger to her ear to comm Drake, but then the air folded in on itself on a roof within Spoiler’s line of sight and she saw a flash of a familiar color that made her blood boil.

“Shit,” she said. 

“What?” Dart asked. Spoiler pointed. 

“There was some….orange over there,” she said significantly. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” Batgirl said. “If I have to deal with alternate Cluemasters I’m going to slaughter someone.”

“We need to check it out,” Batman said. 

“I’m only agreeing since there’s five of us,” Canary said. 

“I haven’t seen Arthur since I was eleven and I’m not about to start now,” Dart said, and Spoiler pushed down a surge of jealousy. Batman led the way, grabbing Dart to carry her across the gap. 

They stopped at the edge of the roof and looked down at the kid--the kid!--who was sitting on the rooftop below them. 

She had on an orange skirt and shirt with blue suspenders. Her tights--also orange--were ripped and she had on orange combat boots. Her bandana was pulled down from her face to rest around her neck, and her blonde hair was in tangles. 

Spoiler stared her thirteen year old self in the face and thought about fainting. 

“What the fuck,” Batgirl said flatly. 

“Don’t hit me!” the kid cried, scrambling to her feet. She had braces, Spoiler noted dimly. “Who are you? What happened?”

“We’re in an alternate universe,” Batman said. “Something’s wrong with the multiverse.”

“Lex Luthor,” Spoiler provided, dazed. “Mining for Kryptonite. Batman--my Batman--is taking care of it.”

“Oh,” tiny, orange Steph said. “So...who are you, then?”

Batman pulled off her cowl. Her blonde hair was short and messy and her face was--old. Spoiler pegged her to be late twenties, probably. Huh. The other Stephs were all teenagers like Spoiler. 

“Stephanie,” Batman said, her real voice jarring after the modulated one was gone. “I’m you, okay?”

“In an alternate universe, I’m Batman?” the younger Steph whispered. 

“Yes,” Batman said, her voice soft and kind of tender. Spoiler wondered what experience she had with kids. She realized that she could have a Robin. “And that’s Batgirl, and Dart, and Canary, and Spoiler. We’re all you.”

“Spoiler?” the younger Steph said, her eyes wide. “Holy fuck.”

“Language,” Batman said. 

“I’m thirteen, not a child.” The younger Steph turned and pulled off her backpack. “Look!” She opened it and pulled out a homemade black bodysuit and hooded cape. “Here’s my Spoiler outfit.”

“I’m going to cry,” Batgirl said. Spoiler’s heart was doing something weird, looking at this tiny version of herself wearing Cluemaster orange. 

“Oh, yeah, well. Being Spoiler is my biggest secret,” younger Steph said, putting her costume back away. 

“Why are you dressed like that, then?” Dart asked. 

“Well,” Steph said, drawing out the word. “I thought Dad might, like, kill me if I didn’t say yes when he asked, so I’m Cluekid by day and Spoiler at night. But, uh, I’m working on bringing down the empire from the inside.”

“Empire?” Spoiler repeated. 

“Yeah, Dad’s criminal empire,” Cluekid said. “I’m taking it down.”

“Criminal empire?” Batgirl said, sounding shocked. 

“By yourself?” Batman asked, putting her cowl back on. Cluekid pulled up her bandana. 

“Yeah, it’s like...someone’s gotta do it, right?”

“Was anyone else’s Cluemaster, like, vaguely incompentent at best?” Batgirl asked, and Spoiler and Canary rose their hands. “Criminal empire, really?”

“It’s super fun that you guys weren’t Cluekid, but leave me alone about it,” Cluekid said. “My dad’s the real deal.”

“Then what’s your plan for when he finds out you betrayed him?” Batman asked. Cluekid blinked slowly. 

“Well,” she said, then she stopped. 

“You don’t have a plan,” Dart said knowingly. “I can relate.”

“No, she does,” Batman said, horrified.

“You’re just gonna let yourself die?” Spoiler asked. Cluekid shrugged, her arms going up past her head. 

“If I have to!” she cried. “Someone’s gotta take him down and I’m the only one who can!”

“Dying’s no big D,” Batgirl said. “I do it all the time.”

Everyone turned to face her. 

“I mean, once, but that’s like, more than most people do it,” she amended, and Spoiler shook her head. 

“Jesus christ,” she said. “I have to get you guys out of here. I’m going to call Drake, and we’re going to find out how to return you guys. Except maybe Cluekid, cause your universe sucks.”

“Yeah, well, your universe has people leaking into it, so it can’t be all that great,” Cluekid shot back, and Spoiler had to admit she had a point. 

While they grappled towards the other end of town, Batman carrying Cluekid and Dart running below them, Spoiler put in a call. 

“Batman,” she said. “I have five alternate versions of myself with me.”

“Five Spoilers?” her own Batman asked, his voice gruff. 

“Five Stephanies,” she corrected. “A Batgirl, a speedster, a Canary, a kid, and, well. A Batman.”

“Interesting,” Batman said. “Luthor has been apprehended and once I turn off the machine, everyone should return to normal.”

“Okay,” Spoiler said, and Batman disconnected. Spoiler stopped grappling and the group gathered around her. “According to my Batman, you guys should just...go back soon.”

“It’s been nice getting to know you,” Canary said. “Although really weird.”

“Agreed,” Dart said. “I can’t imagine being a Bat.”

“I wish that would happen to me,” Cluekid said. “But…”

“It’ll be okay, kiddo,” Batman said. 

“Hey,” Spoiler said. “Batman, do you have a Robin? You’re pretty good with kids.”

“Yeah,” Batman said, smiling. “Her name is Carrie.”

“Hell yeah,” Batgirl said, raising her hand for a fistbump. Batman obliged, and from the corner of her eye Spoiler saw the universe begin folding in on itself. 

“Damn, this is me,” Dart said, looking at the wrinkle in the air. It was tied to her leg, so not a difficult conclusion to make. “Well, it’s been nice knowing you ladies. I wish all of you every success--especially you, Lil Steph.”

“Thanks,” Cluekid said, and Spoiler nodded at Dart before she vanished in a puff of purple lightning. 

“I’m going to turn on my earplugs,” Canary said. “Who knows what’ll happen when I get back--but anyway, I’m going to be in the dark, hearing-wise.”

“Okay,” Spoiler said, a little confused, and Canary gave everyone a smile. 

“It’s been real,” she said, and then she turned on her earplugs. She signed something at them--Spoiler knew only a few signs and couldn’t keep up. Batgirl nodded thoughtfully. 

“What’d she say?” Spoiler asked. 

“Oh, I have no clue,” Batgirl said. “Come to think of it, the signs me and Cass use aren’t strictly ‘real’ sign language.”

“She said that she turns off her hearing so it’s not damaged by the canary cry,” Batman said. Everyone looked at her. “What? My brother was mute and he had to talk somehow.” 

“Brother?” Spoiler repeated, and Batman said, “Damian.”

Damian, mute? 

Damian, Steph’s brother?

“I’m leaving,” Canary said loudly, and they turned to face her. She was vanishing just like Dart, and she gave a little wave, then pointed at Batman, who was also disappearing. 

“Goodbye,” Batman said, and then she and Canary were gone, leaving Spoiler with Batgirl and Cluekid. 

“I’m gonna be real with you guys,” Cluekid said. “I know it’s only been like two minutes but seeing myself, older and with a place in the world….it’s pretty inspiring to think that in another universe I grow up to be Batman.”

“Maybe you still can,” Spoiler suggested, thinking that she didn’t like the idea of this tiny version of herself planning her own death. 

“I don’t think so,” Cluekid said, smiling sadly. 

“I’ve been through a lot of shit,” Batgirl said. “I’ve even died before. You can’t let any of that stop you, okay? You just gotta push through it.”

“Keep on coming back,” Spoiler said. 

“However long it takes,” Batgirl said. Cluekid blinked, tears welling in her eyes, and then she reached for Spoiler and Batgirl, tugging them both into a hug. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Spoiler said, ruffling her hair, and then Cluekid was gone.

“Damn,” Batgirl said. “She says she’s inspired by us, but I’m inspired by her. She’s so brave.”

“Yeah, I know,” Spoiler said, her throat sort of rough. “Geez.”

“Well, it’s my turn next,” Batgirl said. “So, uh. Bye? I guess.”

“Have fun in your universe,” Spoiler said. “With Oracle and Supergirl.”

“Oh, I absolutely will,” Batgirl said. “Have fun with….Drake. Seriously, we give you shit, but if he’s good for you--”

“He is,” Spoiler said, trying not to think of their breakups. 

“Then that’s all there is to it, isn’t it,” Batgirl said. She grinned, and the air behind her began to fold. “Oh, what timing!”

“Goodbye, Batgirl,” Spoiler said. 

“Bye, Spoiler,” Batgirl said. “You know, it’s nice to see that somewhere out there, we’re still in the mantle we created.”

“And it’s nice to see that we’re in a mantle given to us,” Spoiler said, and Batgirl grinned. 

“Hell yeah it is,” she said, and then she was gone, and Spoiler was left alone. 

She sighed, and kept moving. 

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

dart from here & here

canary from here

batman from here 

cluekid from here--(don’t worry--she doesn’t actually die!)

(all are my own work!) 

& then spoiler’s from rebirth and batgirl’s from preboot canon AMEN

[lookforanewangle]

and we’ll be carrying each other (until our dying day) || batfam || 2.4k; part 1 of 2 || part two dick comes back to visit after his time with spyral, and spends patrol with damian. things don’t quite go as planned. || ao3

ch 1: so glad you could make it (to a farewell)

It was supposed to be a normal patrol.

Richard had finally returned from his stint with the Spyral organization that kept him from them for so long. Damian hadn’t strayed far from his side since his return, afraid that he would up and vanish when he wasn’t looking.

Two weeks after his return, Richard surprised him with an entire day planned out; a full afternoon at the arcade dinner at Damian’s favorite restaurant with the hummus that no other location—except for maybe the country of origin—could ever match, and Damian soaked up every second of attention. It had been much too long since they’d spent time together.

He’d missed this.

He said as much when they returned home, and Dick smiled that big, obnoxious grin of his, wrapping him up in his arms.

“What do you say we finish this all up with a patrol?” he suggested.

Damian eyed him skeptically. “Just the two of us?”

“Just the two of us,” Richard nodded. “And if you’re up for it…ice cream after?”

Damian returned a rare grin of his own. “What are we waiting for?”

They flitted across rooftops, Richard throwing quips around, Damian scoffing at the absurdity but loving every minute.

They had received no intel on anything strange happening, no big busts or new gangs in town. The rogues were all locked up in Arkham or staying low for the time being. All of the Bats were keeping an ear out, of course, but with no active threats patrol was quiet. It was, by all accounts, the perfect night to reconnect and catch up on all the things the two of them had missed during their time apart and plenty of time to fall back into their old routine.

Damian was excited for at least a few more nights of this before Richard inevitably left again, but at least he was alive and well and would only be a phone call away.

Damian doesn’t know how everything went so wrong.

~***~

Two hours in, Oracle sends them after a smuggling ring down by the docks.

“They know what they’re doing,” she comments, keys clacking in the background. “All I know is they’re moving weapons. I haven’t been able to find exactly what they are or how many, much less the firepower, so be careful.”

“Nothing we haven’t handled before,” Richard responds. “Thanks for the update, O.”

“My pleasure. Just get back in one piece, Hunk Wonder. You promised me Viaggio’s, and I intend to hold you to it.”

“Of course, m'lady,” he responds with a cheeky grin, shooting his grapple. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You two are disgusting,” Damian comments as he follows. Richard just laughs.

~***~

When they reach the docks, there is a much larger gathering than they had anticipated.

“Hey O,” Richard whispers into the comm. “Send some backup when you’ve got a minute, yeah?”

“Preference?”

“Whoever’s available. I think we’re all peckish for some action tonight.”

“Sure thing.”

“Surely we can handle them ourselves,” Damian muses, taking in the sight below. “But… I can see the advantages of having another. As long as it isn’t Drake.”

Richard snorts, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “We’ll get you two to get along at some point, if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I would love to see you try,” Damian scoffs, swatting his hand away. Richard suddenly stiffens next to him and Damian swings his gaze back to the sight below. A boat has pulled into the docks, and the men had begun to load the crates—

But those aren’t weapons.

“O,” Richard says softly. “What’s the ETA on that backup?”

“Two minutes.”

Richard’s face set in determination. “We don’t have time to wait. They have kids involved, the guns are just an extra to cover.”

“Shit. I’ll tell them to book it.”

“Thanks, O.”

“Be careful.”

“Always.”

Richard switches off his comm and turns back to Damian. “Ready?”

Damian nods once, and they jump from the building. His plows into one man feet-first and sends him crashing to the ground with a yell. Damian rolls into a crouch, flinging batarangs at the two men ahead of them. He bolts towards the loading dock, taking down men with ease. He’s exerting maybe a bit more force than necessary as he knocks them out, but it’s not as if they don’t deserve worse, he thinks.

He spots another man hurriedly ushering the children up a loading ramp and onto the boat, hissing at them to shut up as they whimper in fear. He’s throwing frantic glances over his shoulder for the two of them, and it’s when he’s turned away that Damian finally pounces.

He leaps onto the man’s back and stabs a batarang deep into his shoulder, and the man attempts to throw him off with a howl, backing up and slamming Damian  against a shipping crate. Damian growls but holds on tight, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck in a chokehold, and the man whirls, latching onto Damian’s wrists and throws his hulking mass backwards to the floor—

Right on top of Damian.

Damian’s head slams to the metal deck of the ship and his vision whites, all of his breath leaving him and his ribs crack under the pressure. He wheezes as the man lunges to his feet, and Damian rolls to his knees, head still swimming, and looks up right into the barrel of a gun.

Before the man can shoot or Damian can move, the man’s kneecap explodes and he crashes to the ground with a scream. Damian turns, head pounding.

“Starting the party without me? I’m insulted!” Red Hood calls as he drops into the middle of the fray, guns firing into feet and knees and shoulders, dropping men left and right in a cacophony of screams. Damian turns his attention back to the children as Spoiler drops next to him. He helps her shepherd the kids to safety while his head clears.

Once the final child is safe, Damian runs back towards Nightwing and Hood, who are taking on the last fifteen men. He ducks beneath a wide swing at his head, gritting his teeth as he stumbles and diving to the side as bullets shatter the ground behind him.

“Robin!”

“Fine,“ he grits over the comms, catching his breath behind a crate. "I—”

He has his feet under him when one of the men rounds the corner, rifle swinging up and aiming at Damian’s chest. The man is too tall and too stocky and too familiar with his short dark hair and tan skin and Damian freezes, breath catching in his chest. This man is not the same, couldn’t ever be, but that split second of stillness is all it takes for Damian to be one step behind. Everything that happens next is almost too fast for his rattled head to keep track of.

There’s movement out of the corner of Damian’s eye, a blur of black and blue rushing towards him as he flings a batarang at the hand holding the gun at the same time that the man pulls the trigger. Damian’s eyes widen and the gun cracks and he sucks in a panicked breath only to let it out in a scream.

“No!”

Nightwing crashes to the deck in front of him, and distantly, Damian can hear the comms explode with noise, can see Todd’s fighting intensify, can see Spoiler drop onto the man who fired at Damian. The two of them cut down all of the men around them as Damian’s focus shrinks to Nightwing’s crumpled form, the gunshot echoing violently in Damian’s ears.

He rushes to his brother’s side and falls to his knees, ripping off his cape and pressing down hard against the gaping wound in Richard’s chest. Richard cries out at the sudden pressure; there’s already blood everywhere, splattered against Richard’s face and rapidly pooling beneath them both, staining Damian’s knees. His cape is turning red against Richard’s chest faster than he can think.

“What have you done?!” Damian demands, eyes searching for any other injuries and to assess his brother’s situation. His heart is pounding in his ears, hands trembling in panic. Richard coughs, blood spattering against his lips. He grimaces but turns it into a shaky, bloody smile.

“Just…doing my job,” he chokes. He lifts a hand to rest against the side of Damian’s face. “Protecting you is…first priority.”

“I had it handled,” Damian grits, voice shaking.

“I couldn’t…wouldn’t take that risk,” Richard whispers. “I didn’t… didn’t have your back last time, kiddo. I-I couldn’t let it ha—hng—happen again,” he explains, gloved hand shakily palming Damian’s cheek. His fingers tighten minutely on his face as he attempts and fails to hide a wince. “…never again,” he murmurs.

“Richard—”

“N-names—”

“Shut up, you fool,” Damian snarls, pushing down harder against his brother’s chest as his own chest tries to contain his rapidly mounting panic. Richard hisses, clenching his jaw against a whine, and Damian lets up slightly.

“You have always had my back,” he whispers, leaning into the hand on his face. “You have had it since the beginning, even when I— when I did not deserve it. You did not need to prove it to me by needlessly throwing yourself in harm’s way for me. Again.”

"Maybe tha’s jus’…jus’ wha’ big brothers d-do,” he responds sluggishly, “throw ourselves in…harm’s way.”

“I never asked for that. I am more than capable of handling myself,” he insists. Richard hums in response but otherwise doesn’t respond, hand slipping from Damian’s face and leaving behind a bloody streak. Damian’s blood runs cold as he snatches his brother’s wrist before it hits the pavement.

“Nightwing? …Richard.”

He doesn’t respond. Damian shakes him once and he moans quietly, before once again falling silent.

“Richard?!”

He whips his head around to call for Hood when the Batmobile screeches to a halt at the edge of the dock.

“Father!”

The door swings open and Batman is sprinting towards them, Hood and Spoiler tying off the last goon and quickly following. Batman crouches next to them, already reaching for his eldest as he asks urgently, “What happened?”

He gathers Richard up in his arms as Damian responds, reluctantly letting go of his cape and his brother’s wrist, his voice laced with panic.

“I…there was a gunman. He was aiming at me. Nightwing… he got in the way.”

“Hrn. Hood,” Batman calls, “get the seat.”

Surprisingly, Hood races ahead to the Batmobile, pushing the passenger seat flat to lay Nightwing down on. Hood clambers into the back and Damian follows, Batman placing Nightwing down after them. The air is rife with tension as Batman leaps over the hood and into his own seat, the engine revving to life.

“B,” Spoiler’s voice calls through the comms as Hood straps Nightwing down to secure him for the drive, “I already sent L to the Batcave, Red’s picking her up now. A is prepping for surgery.”

Batman’s gloves creak as his hands tighten on the wheel. He gives a short affirmative and presses down hard on the gas, rocketing towards the Manor.

~***~

They screech to a stop on the turnstile, Batman leaping from the car and rushing to Nightwing. He quickly but gently unbinds him, gathering him up into his arms and walking briskly to the cave’s medbay. Damian scrambles to follow.

“Jason,” Bruce barks, “get him upstairs.”

“Nonono—” Damian pleads, eyes burning as he snatches desperately at the limp hand dangling from his father’s arms. Todd grabs him around the middle, tugging him back against his chest and Damian whirls, snarling and swiping at the man keeping him from his brother.

“Let me go—”

“Hey,” Todd snaps, snatching his wrists before they can do any damage. “Cut it out.”

“Then unhand me—!”

“No.”

With a quick twist, Todd twirls him around and plops to the ground, twisting and wrapping his arms and legs around him and effectively pinning him back against his chest. Damian squirms, breath coming in short bursts as he tries to wriggle out from the arms bracketing him in.

“Please,” he gasps, chest burning with panic and phantom pains, “please, I just got him back, I have to help him.”

Todd shushes him, pressing his cheek against Damian’s sweat-matted hair and murmuring in his ear.

“Kid, you’ve gotta calm down. There’s nothing you can do right now; you’ve gotta let Alfred and Leslie work.”

“I have to have his back— I promised—”

“You’d just be in the way,” Todd interrupts, his hold tightening. Damian slumps, trembling as he tries to catch his breath, staring at the frantic movements of the medbay. After a moment, Todd hesitantly loosens his grip and begins to sway the two of them slowly back and forth. “You know he wouldn’t want you to see him like this,” he continues quietly.

Damian turns his head and buries his face against Todd’s bicep, sniffling. He couldn’t argue Todd’s logic; getting in the way of Pennyworth and Dr. Thompkins would only delay Richard’s medical attention and recovery. Tears prickle at the backs of his eyes and he bares his teeth in a snarl. He would not show weakness in front of Todd, he forbid it. Maybe, he thought, pressing his face harder against Todd’s jacket, if he held his face there long enough, Todd’s post-patrol stench would suffocate him and he’d be forced to stay in the medical wing with Richard because of poisonous fumes.

Todd shifts to press his forehead to the back of Damian’s head with a sigh, carefully readjusting his grip. Damian flinches at the contact, and Todd pulls back, brows furrowed.

“You hurt, kid?”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, no, let’s try that again. Where are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Damian insists between gritted teeth. “There are only bruises and small scrapes, nothing needing immediate medical attention.”

Todd is quiet for a moment. “If you’re lying to me, I’m gonna whoop your ass later.”

“As if I’d give you the privilege,” Damian snipes back. Todd’s lips twitch in amusement.

“Look,” he says slowly, “I know this sucks. So hit the showers and change, and let me put some salve on those bruises or Alfred’s gonna have my friggin’ hide, got it? Then we can hide up in the rafters or somthin’ until they’re done. We won’t go far.”

“But Father—”

“Yeah, well. Special occasion. Get moving.”

[lizartgurl]

“Back to You” (Aqualad x OC)

PART SEVENTEEN

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six)(part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten) (part eleven) (part twelve) (part thirteen) (part fourteen) (part fifteen) (part sixteen)

@flamebiirds​ @the-shadow-of-atlantis​ @super-spoiler​ @keanureevesislesbian​ @princes-jasmine​ @sapphicstargirl​

Everyone was crying, some more quietly than others. Shannon Marten stood tall and proud, shoulders squared back, fire in her eyes as a single tear escaped. So this was what would become of her people.

Most of the Humanitarian volunteers were tied up, locked up aboard their ships to keep out of the way, but Rhodes and his men went from house to house with their big gun and lack of decorum, dragging out families and children in their PJs, gathering them in front of the post with the refugee girls and women, half of which were inconsolable.

“Where is the Midayo?” young Hannah whispered to her husband, holding their eight-month-old to her chest.

Shannon looked around. She’d sent Miiyahbin to get Nightingale and Aqualad, but they should have been back by now. Something had to have happened to them.

“If y’all are worried about your so-called heroes,” One of Rhodes’ men taunted loudly and obnoxiously, as if he could read her mind, “Ya needn’t be bothered. They aren’t coming.”

“You’re lying!” Shannon could easily identify Heather’s voice out of the crowd, but she was easily hidden by her fathers and others from retaliation.

“Are we, eh?” Rhodes spread his arms, begging to be disproved, “If your little friends were coming, they’d be here by now, wouldn’t they?”

Benny and Janice, his wife, knelt in the snow, trying to ease Charles’ wounds. His glasses were crushed under Rhodes’ boot as he surveyed his captives.

“Shannon,” Charles uttered, reaching for her hand.

“Hush, Charles, try not to talk.” Shannon smiled at him, “It’ll be alright.”

Charles gripped her hand, laughing with delirium, “You know, you’re still as beautiful as the day I met you.”

“Charles, you can’t even see me,” Shannon fought off a blush.

“Doesn’t matter.” He chuckled.

Shannon sighed, wondering how long she could keep lying to herself and others. Two of Rhodes’ men came out of the Post, carrying all the gasoline that they had in stock.

“Gettin’ a bit chilly, innit, boss?” One of them asked.

Rhodes nodded with a cruel smile. “Get the boats, first. Then we’ll see if it spreads to the rest of this decrepit village.”

One of the rescued young woman screamed, and the rest dissolved into tears. Those from the village would have comforted them, if they weren’t in such a state of shock themselves.

And then Heather escaped what little security the arms of her fathers provided, shoving through the crowd to stand defiantly in front of Rhodes, though she still wore her favorite Hello Kitty pajamas.

“Ooo, girl’s still got some spark in her, eh?” Rhodes sauntered forward, reaching out to caress her cheek.

“Not bad for a little-”

Heather’s hands, on the end of two stick-thin arms, shot up and shoved Rhodes back with a chest full of fire. It would have spread from his kevlar suit to his face if he didn’t immediately drop and roll in the melting snow.

His men cursed, dropping the gas and firing at Heather or at the townspeople, whichever they thought would make her stand down, but a ring of fire spread around the villagers and the ‘Post, clumsily careful to avoid the dripping gasoline draped over the boats and part of the town. The fire was so hot it melted the bullets, but just warm enough to keep them all from getting hypothermia.

“You messed with the wrong people,” Heather growled.

Another kidnapped girl, with tear streaks down her face, stood on bruised, shaking legs. She made her way to Heather’s side, the ground shaking with each step.

Shannon’s chest swelled with pride as one by one, a majority of the women that had been rescued began to display some kind of supernatural power.

“So that Bedlam guy wasn’t kidding!” One of the men shouted, inching towards the edge of town.

“Wait a minute, what’s going on?” So Charles hadn’t completely lost his mind yet.

The ground shook in the distance, as something approached, and a silver-robed human streaked across the sky, raining knives of ice upon Rhodes and his men.

“Don’t just stand there! Call ‘em!” Rhodes screamed at his men, running for the shelter of the gazebo at the center of town.

The townspeople took the opportunity provided by the girls and the arrival of the Midayo to herd each other back to the ‘Post.

“Benny, hand me that shotgun!” Shannon pointed to the gun, more for decoration than anything else, that hung over the fireplace next to the bar.

“Shannon, don’t you think that the kids got this?” Benny asked. His wife and one of the girls who didn’t seem to have powers were tending to Charles, as he attempted to tell them how to patch him up.

Shannon cocked the shotgun, “Doesn’t mean we can’t help.”

-

“Rhodes and his men have the Wayne Volunteers locked up on their ships, and from the smell, he was ready to send them and all of Moose Factory up in a fireball.”

“Nightwing, get the volunteers free and off the ships. Kid, try and see if you can clean them off real quick, just in case.”

“Rodger, NG!”

“What about me?”

Emma took a moment to catch her breath, “Protect the post, Superboy, keep those girls from getting shot.”

“How many kids have suddenly developed powers?” Miss Martian asked. They would be going faster than they were now, but the Bioship had used up most of its energy chasing after and incapacitating the Manta Flyer. Thankfully, Kaldur was seeing to Emma’s near-death case of hypothermia, so they didn’t need much energy for that, and M’gann had a mind link set up for communication.

“Miiyahbin, can you hear us?” Emma asked.

“This is freaky.”

“You are the latest in a line of mythical protectors of the Cree. You might want to get used to ‘freaky’.” Kaldur couldn’t help but grin.

“I count about twenty women and girls displaying superpowers. There’s fire, like Heather’s got, earth-manipulation, water-bending like me and Kaldur-”

“-Kaldur and I.” Artemis sighed.

Equinox groaned, “And Rhodes has about six guys hiding from us.”

“This’ll be easy!” Kid cheered, “Ships are clear of gasoline, though I may have chipped the paint. Send my sincerest apologies to Brucey, would ya ‘Wing?”

“So Rhodes just walked in with six people and took over a whole village? Something doesn’t add up.” Artemis voiced her thoughts out loud, feet propped up on the console as she examined her arrows before a good fight.

“Did he have that many people when he last attacked the village?” M’gann asked.

“No, he sent the Whitago after us, and they chased us back to the village, where the villagers fought with us.”

“He has guns, Artemis. Big guns.” Kaldur reminded them.

“How did you stop the Whitago?” M’gann asked.

“Froze them over, dropped them in a bottomless lake.” Emma shrugged.

Artemis huffed, then shuddered, shouldering her quiver. “I still don’t like it. Something’s wrong here.”

By then, they had reached the town. Emma was about to jump out the back of the camouflaged bioship as it took far too long to descend into a grove of trees far enough from the fire, but Kaldur grabbed her, holding her close until M’gann herself confirmed a safe landing.

“Kal, I’m fine,” Emma insisted, pushing his arms away.

“I am sorry,” Kaldur apologized sincerely, grabbing his backup pair of water-bearers from the storage, “I couldn’t bear to see you fall again.”

Emma went silent for a moment, then leaped out of the bioship after Kaldur and the girls, to join the others in the square.

“Well it’s about time!” A bullet shot by Nightingale’s head, aimed at the hiding place of one of Rhodes’ men. She turned, watching with a slack jaw, as Grandmother reloaded her shotgun.

“Sweetheart, my husband toted me all over North America working with the Justice Society, do you honestly think I don’t know how to defend myself?”

Though she preferred not to use guns, Emma decided to take the extra help over her morals.

Tracing a line in the snow, Kaldur created a water shield, enough to cover himself and a few other girls from the bullets.

“Follow me!” He waved down Heather, who diffused her fiery fists, and she grabbed two other girls. One seemed to be causing the vibrations in the ground that knocked their attackers off their feet while they were able to keep their balance, and the other had eyes glowing white as her hair stirred from a sudden gust of wind.

Now with backup, Kaldur began to close the distance between their blockade, and Rhodes’ hiding spot.

Rhodes, of course, was quick to notice.

“Now!” He screamed at his men in a panicked voice.

One of them fumbled in his vest pocket, and pulled out a wooden whistle. Though no one heard a thing when he put it to his lips, it pierced Emma to her soul all the same.

As she paused to catch her breath, she stopped beside Miiyahbin, whose eyes were wide and staring straight ahead, past the villages, and past Rhodes and his men. Standing at the edge of the forest was a Whitago. The leader of the very same group they had just defeated earlier that night.

“Dad...” Miiyahbin whispered.

The Whitago question reared its head back, and howled into the night. With a skittering noise that scratched at the inside of Emma’s skull, more Whitago sprinted from the depths of the forest. They ran around Rhodes and his men, heading for the heroes they were fighting. Except for the one, the leader, who examined Miiyahbin curiously.

Emma could see Miiyahbin’s eyes narrow, not at the creature that possessed her father’s face, but at the man responsible.

“Rhodes killed my father.”

[v01d-ch1ld]

If Bitterness is My Cancer, Fire is My Cure

If Bitterness Is My Cancer, Fire Is My Cure

              Sirens could be heard in the distance, the flames licking the sky, shrapnel everywhere it was glorious! The night was ablaze with fire and screams, and the aching in her head finally eased. The voice was pleased with the current spectacle and Rebecca was in no position to deny it anything if she wanted to maintain basic mental faculties. Her father was laughing just about as loud as she was as she danced while singing “Funhouse” by P!nk. People were running in all directions, cars were crashed in the middle of the road, and another explosion rang through the Gotham night. The violence inspired a new fit of giggles from Joker, Harley, and the Jester. Her new name sealed her fate. She smiled her wider than normal smile and leered at the frightened civilians. She was enjoying this. She was enjoying this. The adrenaline coursed through her veins lighting up her senses, making everything brighter and sharper than before.

             Flames licked at what was her old apartment. She was done with that life and this was the last step in becoming what she was meant to be: free. Her feelings were shallow, and she could only keep up the happy face for so long. Laughter turned to open tears as she broke down inside, the last fragile remnants of her sanity being severely taxed. That was her life. She was happy and now she can never have it back. A part of her was mourning while the other part was laughing.  On her knees, she cried in the center of the chaos around her. The Joker looked on his protégé without emotion as she shed the last of her normalcy down her pale cheeks. He felt almost nothing looking on at the beast that he created mourn the civility it once had. Bitterness was raging inside his heart for the life he left behind, the family he was denied, the love that left him, the child that denounced him, and the God that forsook him. He felt no pity toward the wayward monster crying in the street, only happiness because he took back something that he had lost. She was like a child’s toy to him.

             It had almost been two years since Rebecca went missing and, on this night, she died. There would be no funeral procession, no priest, no coffin, and no grave. She died with the exhalation of breath and smoke into the sky and flames burning her a funeral pyre. From the ashes, came a new being, the Jester a creature of pure pain and malice. There was no sympathy, no feeling, just emptiness, and self-satisfaction. Jester stood up, laughing once more, and got another bomb threw it into another building and howled when it blew, sending debris and broken burned bodies everywhere.

             “Gotham is going to burn tonight!” She shrieked, twirling around. Joker looked on at the spectacle of the monster he created revealing in her newfound power of lawlessness and chaos. He was almost proud in a way.

             Fire trucks came rushing down the streets, screaming along with them were police sirens. On the other side of Gotham Batman was getting a police signal. Arson in the Narrows. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the Bat Computer because he thought the fire department could handle it, but he kept it on in case things complicated themselves. Then the words “Joker” “girl” “psychopath” “advanced civilian casualties”, and “bombs” came in through the transmission and he was set on his feet hard staring the police radio. By now, the Bat signal was up for sure. Damian was out of town with the Titans and had been for weeks. Tim came down the elevator in costume already, but without his mask.

             Tim looked like he hadn’t slept in a century, which was close to the truth. He grabbed his gauntlets, mask, and bo staff from his corner of the cave. After him, Nightwing came down without a word. Things were still tense between them and Bruce, but Dick was at least allowed back in Gotham after Rebecca had been pronounced dead. Dick got on his bike and left without a word. Tim got in the Batmobile proceeded to tap on his wrist computer. Bruce sighed pulled down his cowl and got in the driver’s seat, tearing rubber after Dick. Sometime between the mansion and the Narrows another motorcycle made up the procession to the crime scene.

Jason had been relatively missing except for a few bloodbaths in the last few months but he sped behind the Batmobile and popped a wheelie. The Red Hood looked like he meant business, more guns on him than usual and it looked as though he had procured some new toys. The plumes of black smoke guiding them to where Jester was having her debut bash.

At the scene of the crime, the police and Jester and Joker plus their goons were in what was basically a small war. Joker gas was flying over cars and tear gas came flying back. Volleys of bullets were being exchanged between officers behind riot shields and Joker gang behind cars with gas masks on. Jester was shooting with the advanced precision the tutelage of Deadshot can get you. Her .50 caliber custom purple and green pistols were tearing through the small blockade of officers. Joker was lobbing gas grenades and calculating an escape route, Harley was shooting her bazooka, creating a diversion for Joker to sort a way out of this. The many henchmen were trying to stay alive and watch for the Bat. Officers were unable to get back up due to Joker and company blocking the only route that it could come from due to the wreckage behind them, and they were also scrambling to keep civilians away from the danger zone. Gordon was in back trying to strategize how they were going to take down the Clown Prince of Crime, his Princess, and his whore.

Jim Gordon wasn’t a fool. He knew that there was no way to put this down without the help of the Bats. He just hoped that they would hurry. More and more property was being damaged and more and more officers were dying with every minute. Suddenly, there he was: Batman and three of the four of his entourage.

“Hello, Commissioner Gordon.” Batman greeted his friend. Nightwing was on top of a police car trying to gauge the enemy, Red Robin was calling Batwoman and Robin for backup and Red Hood was loading his guns with rubber bullets, per his agreement with Batman, and putting his hollow pointe magazines in his pockets for safe keeping.

“Thank the stars you’re here. The Joker came here with Harley and a new girl and they lit the place up and then the new girl began to blow up other buildings in the vicinity. She is just as crazy as Joker and extremely lethal. She has been laughing that horrible laugh all night,” Batman looks over to see Jester in near convulsions laughing as she shoots with deadly accuracy, “They have Joker venom gas grenades as well as bombs and we have been doing all we can just to hold them here.” Batman nods.

Nightwing calls out, Jester just disappeared. Then a bullet comes dangerously close to nailing the Commissioner in the head. Batman tackles him to the ground just as Red Hood uses his helmet’s head’s up display to see that the Jester has taken a sniping position on top of one of the buildings that aren’t burning. Red Hood then runs through the burning cars and wreckage to find a fire escape, leaving the others to deal with the Joker and Harley Quinn. This new chick was good. He needed to know how good if he was going to kill her. Switching to his hollow bullets her made his way up the fire escape of a building that was adjacent to the one that Jester was firing from. Making it to the roof he takes aim and fires, but she moves right as he takes the shot, the bullet missing by millimeters. She takes out her .50 caliber pistols loaded with mercury charge bullets. Of the two the mercury charge was the more lethal. Both had exploding bullets, but the mercury fulminate acted like a crystal of pure nitro in the center of the bullet, actually exploding inside the body instead of shattering causing about double the damage of a normal hollow bullet. Jason figured this out when he dodged and the ac unit behind him imploded, almost blowing him clear off the ledge.

“Hey! You have good aim, but I bet you that I’m better!” Jester called to the vigilante hanging off the side of the roof. He pulled himself up and back on to the roof.

“Trust me, honey, you don’t want to put up that kind of wager with me.” Red Hood barked back.

“You’re all bark and no bite, babe, I’ll have you ragged and bloody in five shots. Bet.” She smirked. Tossing her short hair over her shoulder and unholstering her other pistol from her left shoulder.

“You’re on! But don’t say I didn’t warn you. It’s a shame to have to ruin- AGH!” He was cut off by a bullet in the shoulder. The pain was blinding, and he knew that arm was completely out of commission despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins in alarming volume. Switching to his left pistol, he took aim and fired.

             “FUCK! That hurt!” A bullet had caught her in the calf of her left leg while she was trying to dodge. She put a bullet into his thigh and hit behind some scaffolding. The bullet was hollow, so she pulled out what she could and prayed that the rest wouldn’t hit her bloodstream for the next ten minutes, otherwise she was fucked.

             Thunder cracked, and the rain came down in sheets. Drenched and irritated, Red Hood leaped onto Jester’s roof. He walked over to where she ducked and found nothing. Two gunshots, two bullets in his torso. Whipping around at speeds not good for his now busted ribs, he saw only a pair of high heels disappear behind a ventilation unit.

             “One shot left, sweetheart,” he looked around,” and I know that you won’t do it!”

             “Bet,” came from behind his ear before blinding pain and the sound of something shattering. His helmet lay broken on the rooftop. She had hit the butt of her gun right into the crown of his head. Dizzy, he looked around with his gun cocked hoping to get another shot in before he had to retreat. His legs were swept from under him and he looked up to see her with a gun to his forehead. Jason was cocky and looked her straight in the face. He wasn’t scared of death.

             Rebecca was in shock. Jason. Jason. The Red Hood was Jason Todd. Memories painfully burst in her brain, overwhelming her. She screamed and collapsed as her head felt like someone was spreading acid into her neural synapses. Curling into the fetal position she started to wail like someone going through the worst torture possible. For her, it was. She had just tried to kill the last ground she had to stand on. Jester in her brain was elated but she was horrified. She had just tried to kill the last thing she had to love in this world. She was going to go stalk him tonight as she had been for weeks. Just to make sure he was okay. But now she could only scream as memories buried under a year of torture came warring to the surface.

             Jason had no idea what to do. He hadn’t even touched her, and she was screaming her head off. He was pretty sure she was crying. His leg collapsed under him from blood loss, and from this vantage point, he could actually see her face up close. Through the ugly pallor and the dark circles around her eyes and the black lips, he could still see her. Rebecca. No. After all the Joker had done he still was always able to top himself. He made normal criminals look like misdemeanor offenders. This took child abuse to a whole new level. Jason swore.

             “This has to be a trick.” He said to himself

             “It isn’t,” said that horrible voice in the back of his head. It was right no matter what he had found in his years of vigilantism.      

             “Jason! H-help me.” Her voice came weakly through the tears. She curled in on herself tighter. There was no mistaking it. It was her in the flesh.

             “I will. I promise.” He picked himself up off the flooded roof and looked down at the pool of bloody water surrounding them. It looked like a murder scene. He hooked a grapple onto the other roof and swung down, leaving her up there to bleed.

             Jason collapsed on top of the Batmobile. Harley Quinn was inside and unconscious. In a grand show of endurance, he peeled himself up off the hood and limped over to where Dick was ducking from bullets.

             “Dick.” He called softly. It was forbidden to use each other’s real names while they were in costume per Bruce’s rules, but he figured now was a good time to bend the rules a little.

             “What happened to you?” Dick looked concerned for his little brother. He was bleeding through four bullet holes and there was a steady stream of blood coming from his mouth.

             “I-I found her. Rebecca.” He gasped out before he was forcibly hunched over in a coughing fit. “Jester s-she is Becca. I shot her. She’s up on the roof.”

             Dick was flabbergasted. Everyone thought she had been dead for months. It had been two years since she went missing. He and the others had mourned for her. Now he finds out she is alive and bleeding on a roof. He nods to Jason and grapples up to the roof, avoiding bullets from all sides on his way up to rescue his little sister.

             Jason chuckled to himself. His life was such a clusterfuck. Smiling, he heard Tim calling to him as he passed out.

 Tags: @nxttime @dcuniversefanatic @dcdweeb @ravennightingaleandavatempus

[taiblogcomics]

The Day Evil Won

Hey there, that trend of penguin movies in the mid 2000s. Well, while we wait for a future shipment to build up so we can get them last couple MLP comics, let's turn our attention back to the New 52. No, wait, come back, this one's only an event miniseries! I promise! This one will be actually interesting. I hope, I haven't read this since it came out~

Anyways, here's the cover:

Yeah, we're doing Forever Evil. What's fun about that is that a number of these guys later did heel-face turns. Poison Ivy, Bizarro, Harley Quinn, all good guys. Debatable whether Catwoman was ever a bad guy. Black Adam is also ambiguous at worst. Also, like, half this crowd is Batman villains. Including White Rabbit in the back there. You remember her, she was around for, like, five issues and then was never referred to again. I dunno who the fat guy behind Sinestro is. Other than that, not much to say. I do want to make fun of Captain Cold for a bit, though. Like, sure, the fur-lined parka was goofy-looking, but it was more practical than going sleeveless when you have ice powers~

So if you couldn't guess from his prominence on the cover, the comic opens with a heck of a lot of dialogue from Lex Luthor. I had to skim it a bit, but it turns out Lex is doing a business deal. The fellow he's dealing with is Thomas Kord, who's refusing to sell his company. So Lex starts threatening not only him but his family. Said family includes his son Ted, who is also known as the Blue Beetle. While Thomas is sweating it out, suddenly the city loses all power and the helicopter pilot starts losing control. It plows into a building and explodes. Lex manages to pull himself from the wreckage as a message is beamed across the world.

As the robotic figure of who I presume to be Brainiac targets Gotham City next, we cut over to Nightwing. Nightwing's New 52 design also sucked. Like, it wasn't outlandishly bad or anything, but changing the blue on his outfit makes him look both more tryhard edgy and like Chris O'Donnell in Batman & Robin. Two bad things that go worse together! Nightwing's back in town to drop off Mr. Zsasz at Arkham. But as he arrives, someone else shows up, ripping the doors off Arkham. Nightwing radios for backup, but is then tagged from behind and abducted.

We cut back over to Metropolis, where we find Thomas Kord dangling from the wreck. He calls for help, and after a moment's hesitation, Lex gets up to start maneuvering closer to grab the guy. I like this bit, because you know Lex is just doing it to A) make himself look good and 2) pressure the guy into accepting his deal. But it also makes Lex more human. He's evil, but not heartless. He could just let the guy fall. But he's not playing the asshole card, and I appreciate that. Shame, though, because the guy falls anyway. And why does he fall?

No, no, not that. The actual reason is because a red-and-blue-clad figure flies past and steps into the wrecked building. After a moment, he reaches in and pulls out what he's looking for: a particular glowing green shard of crystal. He's not the only one committing theft at the moment either, as the Rogues are trying to break into a facility of some kind and spring the Trickster from lockup. They're grousing because in this continuity, the Rogues now have naturally implanted powers instead of relying on technology. They like the way they used to be better, which is kind of a shared sentiment on the New 52 as a whole~

Before they can get past the electric fence, though, suddenly something speeds by in a red blur, smashing into the facility and using his speed to reduce the guard to a skeleton. Captain Cold notes aloud that this doesn't seem like the Flash. Really? You don't say?? And then we cut over to another facility, where Amanda Waller is trying to negotiate with Black Manta for a spot on her Suicide Squad. But Black Manta can't be bought, because the only thing he cares about is killing Aquaman. Lucky for him, then, that in a burst of green light, a couple figures smash into the building to offer him this.

Speaking of smashes of green, the red-and-blue figure then crushes the green crystal in his palms, then snorts the resulting powder. Oh no, is this going to be a PSA comic about drug use? Fortunately, no. Because the figure turns around, and we see he's Ultraman. Not the tokusatsu hero, but the evil version of Superman from Earth-3/the Antimatter Universe/whatever the explanation is this time. He flies off, requesting "Grid" to search for more deposits of Kryptonite. (Grid, I believe, is the evil counterpart of Cyborg, since they retconned Cyborg into being a founding Justice League member.) And off he goes.

Several of the baddies left in Arkham are discussing the situation. Every superhuman prison facility on Earth has been broken open. They've accepted a coin, which also doubles as a communication device. If they activate it, that means they're in. Scarecrow is way into it, and he persuades Riddler, Two-Face, and Poison Ivy to all activate it with them. And the villains who agree show up at the old JLA base in Happy Harbor. And the comic here unfolds into a four-page centerfold showing a massive group shot of all the villains. Just all the villains. All of them.

Also here in Happy Harbor, just to compound the JLA bases, the old Satellite Era base is crashed on top of the old Happy Harbor base. The villains are all milling about, not sure who called them. They're comparing notes and being a bunch of villains all together, they're starting to get antsy and scuffle a bit. Then suddenly somebody starts throwing merch out into the crowd: Aquaman's trident, Superman's cape, Wonder Woman's lasso. And while the villains squabble over the prizes, the ones who called them there show up and tell them to settle the fuck down.

Here they are: the Crime Syndicate. They've got your standard members of Ultraman, Superwoman, Owlman, Power Ring, and Johnny Quick. And some new additions for this incarnation. In addition to Grid, there's Atomica, an evil female version of the Atom, and Deathstorm, who is the Black Lantern version of Firestorm, because that design was too cool not to use again. And what grand pronouncement do these villains have to make? Why, that the world is now theirs. No one stands in the way of their conquest. The Justice League is dead.

A small-time Hawkman villain (and when you're a Hawkman villain, small-time is saying something) called the Monocle calls their bluff. The Justice League isn't dead, he's looking right at them. Ultraman dissuades his claim by killing Monocle with his heat vision. No one else is really willing to argue with him after that. And to further show their power, Superwoman brings out their captive: Nightwing. Or, as she removes his mask in front of the assembled crowd and various broadcasting devices, should she say Richard Grayson~?

As both regular people, the Teen Titans, and Lex Luthor all watch this unfold, the Crime Syndicate continues to promise the villains their chance to stand at their side and take over the world. It's their time to shine. Which, ironically, the sun is just coming up, weakening Ultraman. So he flies into space and moves the moon to cause a permanent eclipse. And as the comic ends with Lex Luthor watching this display, he mutters to himself that this whole thing? This... is a job for Superman. So where the hell is he~?

I’ll admit: That’s quite a start to your event! They’re not beating around the bush with setup on this one. And while the “all the villains take over” thing is a bit cliche, it at least does something a little interesting with it by having the heroes taken out ahead of time. That sets up an interesting mystery. No one’s buying for a second that they’re dead, so what’s holding them up? And all this, with having Lex Luthor as our protagonist? Now that’s something worth looking forward to seeing the next issue of~

[solomonara]

oooooh are we doing fic titles? how about "caged birds can't fly"? also, i love your writing and your ideas, always so intriguing and fun to read!!!

You bet we’re doing fic titles (because this post) and I gotta tell you, I am having the kind of weekend… week… last-couple-of-days… where I am freaking delighted to have this kind of escape, so thank you. (As in, I spent most of today arguing over commas and semi-colons in an obituary and simultaneously helping set up a funeral and a birthday party. I’m DONE.)

So, Caged Birds Can’t Fly. I’m tapping Dick Grayson for this one.

As silly as his gimmick is, Gotham’s capes tend to take the Mad Hatter seriously. They may be physically formidable, but everyone knows a Bat’s greatest asset is their mind and that’s what Mad Hatter attacks. But Nightwing realizes the Hatter’s behind a rash of high-profile thefts far too late and stumbles across him unprepared. By the time backup arrives, Nightwing’s been hatted - and fighting it - for way longer than is healthy. The Hatter is taken out as quickly as possible, his tech disabled, but Nightwing is… well, he’s not coming out of it.

J’onn and M’gann are called in, but they don’t have good news. The mental trauma is severe, and deep, a mental rift torn by the ferocity Nightwing’s struggle against the Hatter’s control. They can lay a patch over it, get him functioning, but if Dick’s thoughts stray too close to the originating trauma, if he tears off that bandage, he’ll permanently damage himself. As in, vegetative state damage. With Batman’s approval, they re-assemble Dick’s mind without the vigilante portions of it. They build Dick Grayson a life where he never was Robin, never was Nightwing, those portions plastered over with made-up memories and a plausible backstory. They release him into the wild.

It works. Dick seems healthy. It’s not long before he’s made friends with his neighbors in the apartment building he’s just moved into after, he thinks, moving to Gotham from Bludhaven (Of course Gotham. They might not be able to talk to him, to interact, but every one of the Bats would be damned if they’re letting him out of their sight. Dick Grayson never has to worry about walking in a bad part of town, and he’s not sure why everyone thinks crime in Gotham is so bad because he certainly always feels safe…)

But Dick knows something is off. He can’t figure out what it is. He’s restless. Something’s missing. He finds himself staring at rooftops. He almost climbs out his window one day instead of using the door. And one night, he hears someone being accosted in an alley. Without thinking twice he dives into the alley, ready to pull the attacker away from his victim… but the ‘attacker’ is the notorious Red Hood and his ‘victim’ was definitely planning on mugging the next passer-by, who probably would have been Dick.

Dick can’t tell, what with the helmet and all, but Jason is horrified. He’s 99% sure he’s about to see Dick crumble into a catatonic state because Dick is not supposed to get this close to vigilante life, and wow, the exact last thing Jason’s relationship with his family needs is him being directly responsible for Dick Grayson’s demise. But Dick seems… fine? Better than fine; energized by the encounter. Jason starts watching Dick a little more closely over the following weeks and he realizes that this civilian life is actually slowly driving Dick mad. Literally mad. Dick Grayson is losing his mind. It’s obvious to Jason that Dick needs the rooftops, the sky, the sweep and soar of a line under his hand and air beneath his feet.

It is not, however, obvious to Batman, who is not pleased with the risk Jason is running by following Dick so closely. Well, Jason’s a long way from thinking Batman always knows best, and he’s gone against him plenty of times before. Maybe not over anything quite so close to home, but if it means giving the first Robin his wings back… Jason would do a lot worse than defy Batman’s orders.

(By the way, I’ve been assuming batfam fics for these, since that’s the fandom I’m currently writing in, but if you’d like to see a different fandom just mention when you send in a title.)

[musicprincess655]

“So we’re clear on the plan?” Ryou asked his assembled team. “No one takes unnecessary risks. We don’t have backup coming. It’s just us.”

“We’ve got it,” Wakana said. She and Takako had arrived an hour ago, and neither looked like they’d slept too much. Then again, no one in the room looked like they’d gotten enough sleep recently.

They would have to be enough.

Ryou was flying them all to the forgotten little coastal town the Joker was hopefully still hiding in. There wasn’t a zeta tube close enough to matter. The air was silent and stifled in the jet. There was no doubt about what was going to happen, and in any other situation, Ryou would be proud that his team balked at the idea of murder.

They touched down just far enough away that they should’ve been out of range of security systems. Miyuki and Sawamura left the jet first. They were taking point, keeping any guards busy while everyone else went in.

Ryou carefully counted to fifteen after he heard the first sounds of a commotion before leading everyone else in towards the warehouse. Someone popped up in front of him, raising a gun, but an arrow embedded in his shoulder, and he went down. Ryou looked over his shoulder. He couldn’t see Miyuki, but he waved over his shoulder anyway.

Kuramochi zipped ahead, finding a way in and beckoning, avoiding a bullet that someone inside shot at him. He ran in as Ryou reached the door, sending a gunman flying. Ryou already had a batarang in his hand, throwing it at the person in front of Kuramochi.

“Mrasid!” Takako shouted at his shoulder, magic glowing at her fingertips at the backwards words that doubled as her spells. Every gun in the building dropped to the floor. “Ekoms dna srorrim!”

A fog surrounded them, giving them cover. It was a common tactic from Takako, and Ryou was ready for it. They would be down to close combat to avoid attacking each other, which made him, Wakana, and Katsuko the most useful until Kuramochi adjusted to not being able to see.

“Raelc tuo!” Takako shouted, lifting the fog. They’d managed to knock down most of the guards, and Ryou caught a shock of white in the corner of his eye. “Etativel mih!”

Ryou was already moving towards the Joker, catching up just as Takako’s spell took effect, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him into a wall. He could feel the rest of the team behind him, strong and menacing. Katsuko and Wakana were taking care of the last of the henchmen, which left Ryou free to focus on the Joker.

He raised a fist and punched Joker in the side of the head as hard as he could. The Joker cackled, shaking his head like he was clearing water from his eyes.

“We’ll, you’ve got me now, little bird,” the Joker said, grin still in place even with the blood running down from his temple. “What are you gonna do now? Carve me up with those pretty knives of yours?”

Ryou finally let his face twist into a smirk he knew was horrible as he held up the crowbar he’d brought for just this occasion.

“Not quite.”

Ryou had read Sanada’s autopsy report enough times that he had a map of every injury his brother had suffered before the final explosion. He traced along that map with his crowbar, barely flinching when some of his strikes sent blood flying into his face.

“I won’t beg like your Robin,” the Joker said when Ryou paused to catch his breath. Ryou stomped down on his shoulder and ground his boot down until the Joker’s eternal grin turned into more of a grimace.

“That’s a lie,” Ryou said in a tone that was meant to be mild, but definitely wasn’t. “He was a Bat. We don’t beg.”

Ryou kept beating the Joker until he stopped the quips. And then he kept going. And going. And going.

“Nightwing.”

Ryou swung his crowbar down one more time to be contrary. It didn’t do anything but make the body at his feet twitch.

“Stop. He’s done.”

Ryou finally looked over his shoulder. Kuramochi had stepped closer, his hands raised like he was approaching a wild animal. Takako and Wakana stood behind him, stock still, their faces frozen in identical looks of shock.

“He’s dead,” Kuramochi said. “He’s dead, so stop.”

“He did so much worse to Robin,” Ryou said, voice cracking and grating on the way out.

“You’re not the Joker. You’re not a villain,” Kuramochi said, taking another step closer. If he really wanted to, Ryou was painfully aware that Kuramochi could take away the crowbar and whisk him away before he could even react. It wasn’t lost on him that Kuramochi wasn’t doing that. “You’re a hero. And he’s already dead.”

Kuramochi reached out, grabbing the crowbar. There was no place that wasn’t coated in the Joker’s blood, but Kuramochi didn’t seem to care. For that reason, Ryou let his hand go slack, let the crowbar go.

“We should get rid of the body,” Ryou said. “If he’s not dead, he will be soon.”

“I’ll call the others-” Kuramochi started, but he was cut off by an explosion. Everyone whipped around in time to see Katsuko lowering her bow. The explosive arrow she’d sent into the Joker had been localized. Even though his body was burning, no one else had even been knocked off their feet.

“Poetic justice,” she said in response to their silence. Ryou could respect that. He might’ve been tempted to do the same.

“Arsenal. Wonder Boy,” Kuramochi said into his comm. “We’re done. We’re leaving.”

Miyuki and Sawamura didn’t just wait for them, though. They came into the warehouse. Ryou noticed Miyuki’s face going pale almost from a distance. He felt like he was watching himself move from the outside. All of the sounds he knew had to be around him were muffled, like he was trapped in a fishbowl.

“Is there anything else?” Sawamura asked. Ryou shook his head. They had what they’d come for.

Ryou didn’t protest when Wakana took the controls. He was content, for once, to let someone else fly them home. Kuramochi carefully picked up his hand.

“This is sprained,” he said. Ryou noticed with a vague interest that his wrist was swollen to double its usual size. He’d be lucky if it was only a sprain and not a fracture.

He didn’t really care.

He just let Kuramochi carefully cradle his wrist, holding it still while the team flew back to the Tower, to face whatever waited for them now that the Joker was dead.

Ryou wasn’t expecting to find his mother waiting for them when they got back to the Tower, but he really should have been. Much as he hated to admit it, there wasn’t much he did that she didn’t know about.

“I assume your mission was successful?” she asked. Everyone looked down at the floor as they mumbled. No one wanted to tell Batman they’d successfully murdered a man, even if she already knew. “Batgirl, your father called me in a panic, asking where you were.”

“I’ll just go home now,” Wakana squeaked out. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“Tell him where you’re going next time.” Ryou’s mother turned her attention to Miyuki and Katsuko. “I know your father gives you both a long leash, but I’m sure he’s worried that you both disappeared for hours.”

“We’ll go home too,” Miyuki said, looking anywhere but her. Katsuko shrunk behind him before they both took off.

“Kid Flash-”

“Already calling my mom,” Kuramochi said, shooting Ryou an apologetic look before gently letting go of his wrist.

“And Wonder Boy.”

“My mom isn’t expecting to hear from me,” Sawamura said. Batman’s expression didn’t change, but somehow, the room felt like it was freezing. Sawamura disappeared into the Tower. It was just Ryou and his mother left.

Ryou wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t his mother stepping closer and wiping dried blood off his face. It was significantly more affectionate than she’d ever been with him while they were Nightwing and Batman.

“You’re not gonna yell at me?” he asked dully.

“I think you’ve already punished yourself more than I ever could,” she said. “Make sure you clean yourself up, and put a brace on that wrist.”

Somehow, Ryou still didn’t want her forgiveness, but he also knew that wasn’t a good attitude to have. He stayed silent instead of saying anything, but he got the feeling she understood him more than he could ever know.

“Get some sleep,” she said. “And see if you can stop bottling everything up in the morning.”

That sounded impossible.