#ALRIGHT it was kicking back because i was trying to also include the batman cover this was inspired by??? weird??? so well i got rid of tht

[lesliemeyers]

doing Mysterion art inspired by a Batman cover just seemed... right

+ closeups under the cut ↴

[fsketchart]

Daminette December - Fire

Slight angst sorry also taglist coming very soon so yay also @noirdots ur the best thanks.  Also this is absolutely not realistic rip. Enjoy!

Marinette was oohing and ahhing as she walked around the New year's festival.  Everyone was gathered around the center of the festival as a parade marched down, and from the very back she could see a huge float.  She was getting excited and whipped out her phone to take a video for her family. Next to her, Kagami was jumping up excitedly. She had never seen a parade before.

Marinette and Kagami could only watch in awe as the large float from the end began to make their way to them.  They marveled at how much organization and elegance, and of course patience, it must have taken to make such a large float.

------

Bruce was already banging his head against the table.  He and his family were asked to run one of the floats this year, and unfortunately, the people who run Gotham's annual New Year's parade decided to make a Bat Family themed float.

Since they obviously couldn't dress as themselves, they each took turns going outside to the front of the float to perform and pretend to be another bat fam member other than themselves.  It was becoming a disaster.

When it was Dick's turn, he had to pretend to be Red Hood and he was having way too much fun with it.  He dressed up in a mock version of a Red Hood outfit. When he went outside, he took advantage of the moment.

"HIYA Y'ALL!  Y'ALL ARE LOOKING LIKE QUEEEEENS TODAY!  I HOPE Y'ALL ARE HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIVES BECAUSE I TOTES AM!  LEMME HEAR Y'ALL MAKE SOME NOISE!"

The crowd screamed as fans began to reach out towards him.  Dick winked back.

"CAN I JUST SAY THANK YOU TO MY AMAZING CO-WORKER, MY BUDDY, PAL, BROTHER FROM ANOTHER MOTHER, NIGHTWING?  LIKE HE'S SO AMAZING. AM I RIGHT Y'ALL?"

The crowd screamed even louder as people grabbed their phones to record.  Marinette and Kagami began to fall over giggling.

"HONESTLY I WISH I WOKE UP LOOKING AS FLAWLESS AS HE DOES...ANYWHO WHO'S READY FOR TONIGHT?  WE'RE PLANNING A SPECIAL SURPRISE FOR Y'ALL, SO BE READY! CAN'T WAIT TO SHOW YOU GUYS WHAT NIGHTWING HAS WORKED SO HARD ON TO MAKE PERFECT!"

The crowd began cheering, "Nightwing!  Nightwing! Nightwing!" Dick waved at them and walked behind the curtains for the float and returned to the back of the float (closed off section that can't be heard from the crowd.)

Jason immediately lunged for him while screaming, as Alfred tried to pull Jason off of him.  Damian just gave them looks of judgement as he suited up. They decided it would be perfect to send him as Batman, but Damian wouldn't accept a mock outfit.  He wore the real Batman suit, but for obvious reasons...that wasn't the prettiest sight. Damian began tripping everyone and when he reached the stairs to go up on stage he stepped on the cape once more and went flying.  He face plants onto the stage Suddenly, the Batman symbol pops up from one of the lights they set up as the crowd cheers. Damian is still trying to adjust the mask that is covering half his body.

Damian is trying his best to do a Batman impression.  He recalls how his father speaks when talking to Dick, and tries his best to imitate it.  The crowd seemed to like Dick, so that's a good sign right?

"Yo my flip was so hip bro," Damian says in an obviously fake deep voice.

The crowd loses it and goes into hysterics.  Kagami is on the ground laughing as Marinette is just in awe at how cute he seems to be.

Damian sees that he clearly isn't having the tough guy effect.  He tries again.

"Why are you all laughing?  I was so...dope," Damian says, but this time his voice cracks at the end.

Kagami is now sobbing on the ground from hysterics as Marinette begins to giggle a bit.  Marinette sees his small smile, and her heart almost stops. She swears she's seen that smile before.

Damian is done.  Go big or go home.  He tries one last time.

"I hope you all are having a... groovy time?" This time Damian tries finger guns for a moment before immediately stopping and just ditching it.  He runs off the stage but trips again on the cape and a loud thud can be heard from behind the curtains. The crowd just laughs, having caught it all on camera.

Marinette is just giggling, before she realizes where she's seen that smile before.  Damian, she realizes. Her cheeks redden a little bit. Kagami is almost passed out beside her but using Marinette to balance herself.  Kagami wipes a tear from her eye while smiling brightly.

------

Damian is running to the closest corner he sees.  He swears he saw Marinette in the corner. He tunes out the rest of the noise, including Dick's yelling at Jason's mock performance of Nightwing, and he just rips off the mask.  He sighs and joins his father in banging their heads against the wall. Alfred already taped a pillow to the wall in preparation. (ಡ ͜ ʖ ಡ @noirdots)

Alfred pats them both on the back.

"Father?" Damian asked.

"It's your brothers.  What about you?" Bruce asked.

"...Marinette."

"The one from school?"

"...Yes.  I think she just saw my little performance."

"Sorry you inherited my love life."

------

After Jason and Tim finished their performances, Bruce was last.  They had to drag him outside to the front. The crowd was screaming at the sight of Bruce in a bright red outfit with green elf shoes and green shorts and a bright black and yellow cape.

Bruce bowed his head in utter shame and humiliation, while all the former robins were getting a kick out of it.  Alfred was recording it.

Bruce wouldn't even speak.  He just stood there awkwardly trying to form words but just settled for awkward silence.  The crowd took photos and Bruce was sure he was going to be on the cover of newspapers and magazines.  Bruce groaned. Clark was going to have a field day.

The robins backstage high fives in their victory.

Jason laughed, knocking off a few boxes.  He made them no mind. Even though the boxes were quite close to some electronic…stuff.  (I'm sorry I don't know what to put here rip.)

------

The last performance, all of them came dressed up, Bruce having to carry Damian to the front because he couldn't see in Bruce's mask.

Together, they took a bow.  Marinette waved from the crowd and Damian got red.  He shyly waved back, still being carried by Bruce piggy back style.

They gathered around and were about to announce some bat fam merchandise when their planned surprise, ended up going off.  Behind them, a loud boom came from behind the stage. Bruce screamed a high pitched scream while everyone else just stared.  The crowd was confused while the bat fam was panicking. They weren't planning on setting on the surprise until later. That's when Jason remembered the boxes.  He slowly walked behind Dick and hid there.

Suddenly, fireworks were exploding from behind them.  The fireworks were designed to show the Batman symbol, and little logos for each bat fam member.  They were all being set off at once, and Jason was severely panicking by now. That's when Alfred noticed the look on his face and in turn, returned Jason with a judgemental one.  Everyone turned to him.

The crowd was still in awe of the fireworks, oohing and ahing.  Marinette was excited as she hugged Kagami next to her. Kagami returned the hug.

Meanwhile Damian was still clinging onto Bruce for dear life and Jason was screaming.  Dick was running around asking for a fire extinguisher or whatever he could find while Tim was trying to get everyone off the float.  That was when the crowd realized this wasn't supposed to happen. And that's when they smelled the burning.

Marinette darted forwards from the crowd.  Her parents have had plenty of accidents in the bakery before, and began trying to evacuate people.

Kagami already dialed 911 and everyone was screaming.

Bruce led the way off the float while but in the mess, Damian fell off his shoulders.  Everyone kept pushing and shoving each other trying to get away from the float. They pushed and shoved Bruce farther and farther away from the float.

Marinette saw the Wayne family exiting the float, but with no Damian in sight.

Bruce noticed Damian was missing and immediately ran back.  He was screaming his name and that's when Marinette realized what had happened.

A short girl passed Bruce and shoved him out of her way.  She was running towards the float and Bruce let out a curse.  She kept running and running while screaming his name. That's when Bruce joined her.  They entered the burning float and saw his lying there unconscious. Bruce grabbed him, but before they could leave, the roof collapsed.  Marinette jumped into action, trying to hold the roof of the float up. She was muttering under her breath, and Bruce could only hear the name Tikki.  Marinette's eyes seemed just the tiniest bit brighter, as she tried to keep the ceiling together. Bruce ran out and Marinette followed behind him, just barely missing being crushed by the roof.  They ran out of there and onto the front stage. Marinette pointed near the edge and suggested they try to jump there. Bruce nodded and together they jumped off the edge of the float.

Kagami finally saw them on the float and raced forwards.  Marinette broke her ankle, but Bruce managed to land alright.  Kagami grabbed Marinette and ran, Bruce following behind her.

------

Jason apologised profusely to all of them and even offered to wear the OG Robin outfit as a punishment for a whole week.  The bat fam agreed, and while his pride was tarnished, Jason deemed it worth it. However, Dick added that he had to keep a post it note on his forehead at all times saying, "I am so not cool beans." He was also required to say goodbye with, "toodles." Damian approved.

Bonus : Damian's face wearing the Batman mask.

[jason-peter-n-shtposts]

I Need You (Jason Todd x Reader)

a/n: because I have a 200 IQ I have decided to have my first story be.... an angst :) let's see if it works out

warnings: kinda suicidal tbh, language, angsty, maybe fluff?

Jason was trembling. His hands were shaking and he kept on fumbling with the letters on his phone, having to constantly delete and rewrite his words.

"are u ok??"

"please answer y/n."

You hadn't replied in a while and his heart was thudding rapidly, his foot tapping and hands running anxiously through his hair every couple of minutes.

He knew he shouldn't have told you who he really was, a relationship with Jason Todd only would have been fine, but with the Red Hood? One of the top targets of most of the Gotham underworld? He knew it had been a bad idea but how could he refuse your tear filled eyes everytime you begged him to tell you why he came home bruised and bloodied every night? And now, his worst fears had come true, you had been taken from him.

He didn't know what he would without you by his side, keeping him going everyday with your bright smile and loving words. What would he do if you weren't there to comfort and reassure him every time we had a nightmare and woke up mid-scream, his lip bleeding from him biting on it, and tears in his eyes?

You had been able to pull him out of his dark times, when after every fight with Bruce, every argument with Dick, all he wanted to do was go home, drink, and cut up his wrists until he was able to feel something physical, something to show him that the pain he felt inside was also reflecting on the outside. It was you who had been able to convince him that him being brought back to life wasn't a mistake, but proof that his life was worth living, that he was worthy of love. You were there for him, to kiss and clean his cuts when he couldn't see how things would be better. You were there whenever he came back from an especially bad patrol.

Now, with you nowhere to be found, his hands shaking and his body trembling, he stood up. His features hardened and he headed to your shared bedroom. His eyes stung when he saw the unmade bed from when you both had woken up late that morning, yet he found his gear, suited up, and headed out. The Red Hood would not allow this to happen under his watch. He swore you would be back in his arms by tonight.

~(y/n's pov)~

You looked around and noticed that you were in a dark and grimy warehouse and, from the smell coming from the rotting wood, you guesses you were near the docks. You tried to stand to get a better look at your surroundings, but were stopped by the ropes wound tightly around your ankles and wrists. You blinked and quickly realized the danger of your current situation.

As you reached this conclusion, the wide steel doors opened with a creak and in walked Black Mask and four of his men flanking him, hands on their guns and an emotionless gaze in their eyes. Black Mask smiled, and once he was close enough, said,

"My but who do we have here? A regular old citizen, perhaps? That would make all this go much faster. However, I believe you're someone special aren't you?"

He turned to the man on his right and gestured to you, "Tell me, why did you drag me all the way to this hellhole for a woman?" The man smirked and grabbed your chin to face him, "Sir, we believe she is someone quite dear to our good friend, the Red Hood."

At his words, everything fell into place as you realized that they were going to use you as bait for a fight with Jason. Thank God for Jason's paranoia and the charm bracelet he had bought you for your birthday that he had adjusted to include a tracker. At least now, he had some advantage in knowing what he was going up against, as no one else would think of stepping foot into someplace that rank of crime as strong as Gotham's docks.

~(jason's pov)~

He was running along Gotham's skyline, thankful for his enhanced strength and stamina that would let him reach you in a shorter time. He had passed his original sad phase and buried it down deep, instead allowing his rage at your kidnapping to fuel him. Oh, the things he would do to those scumbags who had had the nerve and audacity to take you from him... they didn't know what they had triggered within him.

As his helmet's internal computer told him that the warehouse where you where being kept in was up ahead, he steeled himself for anything he might have to witness. If you were gone.. no, he wouldn't think like that he refused to think like that you had to be there. Had to. For him, as selfish as might feel for thinking that.

He stopped on the ceiling of the warehouse, took a deep breath, and, in true Batman spirit, kicked through the ceiling and fell through the shadows.

~(y/n's pov)~

You had been trying to stay strong until Jason's inevitable arrival, but your nerves were fraying as the minutes ticked by and there was still no sign of him. When a section of the ceiling caved in and you saw that glint of red, your heart swelled and a smile managed to appear on your face despite the circumstances.

As soon as Jason spotted you, there was the slighted relaxation of his shoulders at spotting you alive and well that only you could have noticed. He then focused his attention on the four men near Black Mask and, quite literally, pummeled them. His rage was evident in every punch and kick he threw, in every slam of a guy's head on the concrete floor his slight tremors shook his hands, in every gunshot that was dangerously close to the head his fear oozed out of him so that you could feel your heart being aqueezed at the thought of how much pain your kidnapping had caused him.

As Jason finished absolutely destroying the bodyguards, you felt your chair tilt back and a cold knife blade be pressed at your neck.

"Stop. That's enough," Black Mask's commanding voice rang out from behind you, causing Jason to drop the body of the man he was casually beating to a pulp.

"Wait, no! Don't hurt her, she hasn't done anything to you, has she? It's me you want after all," Jason yelled out, dropping his guns and stretching his hands out to you. Black Mask smirked, that dumb bitch, you thought, as he had severely underestimated your abilities. You had been slowly untying your bonds while waiting for Jason to get there, and your hands were now free. You pulled your own knife out of your sleeve, since apparently no woman owns any self defense weapons and doesn't need to be checked Black Mask get some better henchmen, and shoved it in the nearest piece of flesh to your hand. Hearing the groan come from behond, you knew you had struck home and jumped out of your chair and towards Jason's awaiting arms once the hand holding the knife to your throat had fallen away.

With Jason's arms around you and your head pressed into his chest, his smell surrounding you, you felt well again, not wanting to let go. He shed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, keeping you warm and revealing those amazing arms that you loved. "Baby, hold on tight alright?" He said, adjusting his grip on you so that one hand was around your waist and the other on his grapple gun.

As he carried you through the city, you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted a kiss on the little bit of exposed skin his helmet didn't cover. You felt safe in his arms, warm and protected. Once you both were standing at your doorstep, he took off his helmet and dropped it on the floor, cupping your face with his big calloused hands with a tenderness you wouldn't expect from him. You looked up into his sad puppy eyes, smiled, and said, "You know that, no matter what happens, I'll always be there for you, right?" "I know, and I'll always need you to keep me sane and whole," he said, smiling and pulling you into a hug, letting his fear and pent up anxiety melt away, as you were now back in his arms, where you belonged.

@jason-peter-n-shtposts

[bigskydreaming]

The Ric Grayson AND Talon storylines both end at the same time, and in the same way:

Great Grandpa Creeper Cobb successfully manipulates Ric into position to be brainwashed and become the Talon that Willie the Weenie has always wanted him to be.....this happens for like, two issues.

Then Grandpa Get Ye To A Graveyard Already fucks up....he accidentally brings Talon Ric within sighting distance of the Court’s latest crop of prospective Talon recruits, including a wee baby ten year old orphan being trained to be a future Talon.

And the essential corn kernel of Dick Grayson’s essence, deep down in his psyche, just fucking POPS like its Orville Redenbacher and someone just nuked it in the microwave.

And the real Dick Grayson comes SHRIEKING to the forefront of Talon!Ric’s brain, nothing subtle about it, and the next thing his Rancid Relative knows, he’s being fucking impaled by his great grandson’s blades as said great grandson, who is SUPPOSED to be docilely brainwashed, wtf, is already halfway across the room, diving into the mass of other Talons like they’re a collection of bowling pins and he’s a wrecking ball straight out of a Miley Cyrus music video, but instead of the caterwauling lyrics “I never hit so haaaaaaaard in love,” Dick’s accompanied by a soundtrack of him screaming:

“I WILL PROTECT YOU SMOL CHILD!!!”

As said smol child is just standing there, staring, like....dude, wut?

And then Dick finishes absolutely DESTROYING everything undead and nefarious in sight like he’s the Tasmanian Devil on meth, and he turns to said smol child and begins the process of Smothering, as his hands flutter all up and down checking for injuries but not touching, like: 

“Did they hurt you are you alright you’re safe now cough once for I’m all good or punch me in the no-no’s if I’m making you feel unsafe, I will make sure you are totally safe from here on out, you are my baby now, I have decided, but like, only if you want to be.”

And smol child is decidedly overwhelmed but Man-Who-Speaks-Like-He-Has-Pixie-Sticks-In-Place-Of-Blood-Vessels seems harmless, if weird, and is definitely preferable to the weird Bird Men who kidnapped him off the streets and tried to teach him how to kill people and make death threats out of nursery rhymes. And he doesn’t have a lot of experience in OTHER subterranean lairs to compare this one too, but he’s decidedly not a fan, so when Dick asks if he would like him to take him to see Batman and Batgirl and Robin and other superheroes who can also reassure him there will be no more homework on How To Torture People Good, he’s like....”yeah I guess. If you want.”

And so Dick scoops him up with glee and takes off through the tunnels, yelling back over his shoulder: “Bye Greatly-Gross-Grandpa, hate you lots, don’t call, don’t write, you’re officially off my Christmas card list, hasta la neeeeeeeeeever.”

Thereupon swiftly grappling across the Bludhaven rooftops, yelling PARKOUR! just because he can and its fun, and its weirdly relaxing for his wee passenger, because look, this dude may be weird as fuck, but he’s clearly got the moves to protect him from the Undead Legions of Ornithologists and he seems too....fun to be evil, like not in the Joker kinda way like he’s seen on TV in previous foster homes where its like, jeez dude, try hard much, but more like an adult who just quit a soul-crushing cubicle-dwelling corporate-craphole job and has suddenly been reminded that the sky is blue, flowers smell good, and there IS a Santa Claus, Virginia.

Thus by the time they arrive at Wayne Manor, with no attempt made to hide where they’re going from his wee passenger’s eyes - Dick has already decided he’s keeping the kid, pending said kid’s approval but look, kids like him and he’s determined to bring his A game to the pitch meeting, so he likes his chances - said wee passenger disembarks in the Batcave but stays close by, clinging to Dick’s side in an ever so slight way that allows for plausible deniability later, once he gets his bearings and also his bravado back.

“Dick?!” Comes the chorus of voices from the rest of the family, who are all there already, by great coincidence and in great defiance of the crapfests in their own individual titles, but also who the fuck cares. And Dick puffs out his chest, cuz he’s putting on a good show for his new kiddo, first impressions are important...

“Tis I, fam! The one true Dick Grayson has returned! Huzzah!”

Look, being completely oblivious to his Greatest Dork Energy coinciding with his Times He Most Attempts To Be Impressive, is like, Peak Dick Grayson characterization, you can trust me, I’m a doctor. 

And Tim’s like, “Why are you dressed like a Talon?”

And Dick’s like, “Isn’t the better question why AREN’T you dressed like a Talon?”

Which makes no sense but shhh, I’m running out of steam here, don’t question the atmosphere, just let it be.

And Bruce is like, “Who’s your friend?”

With like...designs and agendas already in mind, because said wee Talon-to-be is cute and adorable and bravely trying to act like he is not at all intimidated by his surroundings and is in total control of what’s going on like, he meant to be here, this is all according to plan, yes, excellent, everything is progressing nicely....

Which as everyone knows, are the three key essential traits Bruce looks for in prospective adoptees....

So Dick snarls and later blames it on residual Talon-ness, they’re very territorial bird...assassin....people....anyway, the adrenaline is still high and also he has swiftly become attached because whether kiddo knows it or not, Dick 100% credits him with the brainwash-breaking and thus when factored in with the cuteness quotient, what we have here is an instant recipe for Protectiveness slash Possessiveness that would be creepy and inappropriate if this wasn’t pure crack. 

But crack it is, and thus Dick curls a protective arm around the kiddo like the lap-bar on a particularly turbulent roller coaster and applies G-Force sufficient to keep even Superman from prying him out of his hands - but in a gentle, non- ’crushing kinda way that might hurt the kiddo,’ even though physics doesn’t work like that, except look, these are CRACK PHYSICS, they can and they do work like that. 

And he’s all, “I already adopted him, so back off, Bruce, I’ll cut you. But also hi dad, I missed you. In spirit I mean, like I had amnesia and then I was brainwashed so technically its probably a reach to say I missed anyone but just roll with it. Also I can haz hugs now, please?”

And then Damian apparates in front of Dick amid a cloud of Disapproval that’s really just a cover for OMG-I-Was-Without-You-And-It-Was-Terrible-And-I’m-So-Glad-You’re-Back-But-Also-Who-Is-This-Interloper-And-Why-Is-He-Stealing-My-Hug.

“Tt. Grayson. Your absence was...less than desirable. See to it that this doesn’t happen again. Also what is that and why is it here.”

“Aww, Dami, I’m sorry. I promise to install a “please have the nearest available psychic reboot my brain in case of future brain damage slash amnesia” clause in my living will, and soon as I get a free second, I’ll break the fourth wall and blackmail the DC editorial staff into declaring me off-limits for all death, brainwashing and/or kidnapping plots for at least the next four major crossover events. I have naughty pictures. They’ll cave.”

“Hmph,” Dami says. He resumes staring pointedly at the kiddo, who juts his chin defiantly and stares back while clinging more tightly to Dick, because he may have very little clue what’s going on, but he’s a quick one and has at least picked up on the fact that Dick wants him and this other kid wants Dick. Which combined with the rescuing and the kicking of bad guy ass means Dick is probably Quality and In Demand and Of Value, and thus he might as well stake a claim now and worry about whether or not to act on that or skedaddle later, once he’s got more intel. He’s a natural Bat, this one, but then, that’s probably why he was in Toddler Talon Boot Camp, he scored high on whatever weird aptitude tests they used to scope out talent, and by talent we mean murder-skills.

“Dami,” Dick admonishes then, “This isn’t an it, he’s a person, and he was recently traumatized so promise me you’ll be on your best behavior or at least your ‘engaging in shenanigans with Jon’ behavior. And he’s not competition, you’re my Dames and my little bro, and he’s potentially your nephew, which is a whole separate category and no threat to you and your baby bro status at all, so retract the claws. If anything, the real danger is Pops adopting him and thus supplanting you as the official Baby Bird of our generation, so make like an ally and help me get that dangerous “I’m gonna adopt this kid so hard” gleam out of Bruce’s eye before it gets any gleamier. We’re still only halfway through my tearful reunion and having to cut Dad before we even get to cake would be a major mood-killer, but I’ll do it, I swear. Also, get your Baby Bird behind over here and hug me already, I have two arms.”

Damian rolled his eyes but obediently disappeared and reappeared nestled against Dick’s other side in the blink of an eye. The proper application of ninja skills has always been the pursuance of hugs and cuddles. Thus sayeth the crack.

“Hey, I do get cake, right?” Dick asked suddenly, looking around dangerously. “I was amnesiac and also brainwashed, I deserve cake, TELL me there’s gonna be cake.”

“Well that answers whether or not we should be worried about this being an attempted infiltration or not,” Jason says, strolling over casually. “No impostor or brainwashing script-writer could ever duplicate the Essence de Dick so perfectly. Hey squirt. Welcome to the madhouse. I’m Jason, what’s your name?”

“Oh right,” Dick realized, cocking his head. “Hey, what is your name?”

“Really, Dick?” Tim sighed, fondly exasperated. “I realize you like to jump from A straight to Z whenever possible, but steps B through Y aren’t usually just mere suggestions.”

“It hadn’t come up yet,” Dick defended himself.

“Yes, why would it have,” Duke mused from where he was leaning over and snapping his fingers in front of Bruce’s eyes, in a futile attempt at tearing his gaze away from the viable adoption candidate within 20 meters from him. It was probably best that they get this adoption thing inked out and signed off on as soon as possible - it was the only thing that was definitively going to get that “Argh, I’ve spotted treasure ahoy” look out of Bruce’s eyes. And Alfred had been very clear :Bruce was forbidden to adopt any more kids himself until he got a better handle on juggling the six he already had. Which. The past year had...probably not met Alfred’s standards on, so it didn’t seem likely he’d be waiving that requirement any time soon. 

(And nobody wanted to get in between the Unstoppable Force that was Bruce’s ‘must adopt all the orphans’ and the Immovable Object that was Alfred’s ‘must maintain at least a reasonable fascimile of order in this household, even if it is a total sham, appearances matter.’)

“Hey!” Dick protested. “I’ve been busy, okay? There was fighting and then there was parkouring and now we’re reunifying, and it wasn’t like I was just calling him ‘that kid’ in my head, I was calling him ‘my kiddo’ which is a perfectly reasonable identifier and thus more specific detail just....hadn’t been relevant yet!”

“So uh, bee tee dubs, what is your name, buddy?” Dick asked, looking down. His kiddo looked back up at him for a long, measuring moment, and then he shrugged.

“I’ll tell you in exchange for some cake. You said something about there being cake, but I don’t see any.”

Dick got misty-eyed at that. “See? He already prioritizes like me. This was destiny! Also, you heard my kiddo, do we not deserve cake? It has been a very long day, there was murder and mayhem and more. Also, my creeper great grandpa was there being icksome, and you know how much that weirds me out.”

“Come along, Master Dick,” Alfred said then, appearing out of nowhere thanks to his Bat-Butler Magic. “And your young charge as well. I already have your favorite baking in the oven and it should be done shortly. Lemon meringue with raspberry layers.”

“That’s disgusting and I will not participate in any ceremony that treats that as part of a celebration instead of just a weird kind of laxative,” Jason said loftily, though it escaped no one’s notice that he was the first to the stairs.

“Shut your facehole, its delicious and amazing and you will like it or I will kick your ass,” Dick said, equally loftily.

“Boys,” Bruce said with a long-suffering sigh, as the threat of brotherly bloodshed was enough to finally shake him out of his orphan-induced stupor.

“At MARIO KART. I will kick his ass at MARIO KART, ugh, jeez, B, why do you always assume the worst of us?”

“Precedent,” Tim said dryly.

“Who the hell asked the Oompa Loompa Brigade to weigh in with all ninety of his pounds?” Jason called back from the top of the stairs. 

Cass came up on Dick’s left, where the kiddo was one half of the sandwich made by him and Damian on Dick’s other side. She smiled down at him when he directed his still very wide-eyed gaze at her, landing on her after his latest sweep of the cavern and all its contained chaos, as if trying to take it all in - most likely in the hopes that if he could manage that, somehow the last 72 hours of his life might suddenly make sense. He really was adorable.

“Don’t worry,” she beamed at him, reaching out to pat him comfortingly on his shoulder, right above where Dick’s arm was still curled around it like a warm blanket - albeit one with the tensile hold of a python. “They’re all crazy, but only in the good ways.”

Duke scoffed as he slipped ahead of them and started taking the stairs two at a time. “It’s funny how you say that like you’re some kind of exception to the rule.”

“Bold words, little brother,” Cass called after him. He only shouted back from the top in a booming voice, his words echoing down the narrow stone stairway dramatically.

“Am I not Batclan?”

“Oooh, is that a new thing we’re doing?” Dick asked excitedly. “Somebody catch me up, I demand context. I smell a story there.”

“It was Jason’s fault,” Tim said automatically. Dick nodded.

“Sure, that tracks. Continue.”

Bruce trailed after his brood of batlings and birdlets, sidling over to where Barbara was waiting for the elevator. The latter having hung back to watch the commotion with the air of one taking notes for repurposing in the form of future blackmail material. Her ever extending network of spies and informants made so much more sense, suddenly.

He cleared his throat while they listened to the hum of the elevator’s machinery as it descended to their level.

“I wasn’t really thinking of adopting the boy,” he said. Not at all sullenly, nor with a trace of defensiveness to be found.

“Of course you weren’t, Bruce,” Barbara said. She patted his arm fondly, with all the conviction of a kindergarten teacher whose student was attempting to claim innocence on the matter of a paint disaster perfectly matching the paint stains on his hands.

“I wasn’t,” Bruce muttered as she preceded him into the elevator. 

Why did nobody ever believe him?

[fordarkisthesuede]

At the Brink of Midnight - Prologue & Chapter 1

Category:  M/M

Rating:  M (subject to change)

Fandoms:  Batman: the Telltale Series, Batman - All Media Types

Summary:

When Bruce receives a distressing call from the institutionalized John Doe, the billionaire-philanthropist is thrust back into the darker side of Arkham Asylum, where his strive for the facility's improvements are null when faced with a new threat from the inside. Bruce swore off Batman after seeing what it did to those he loved - will he have to put the cowl back on to save the day? Or can he do it as Bruce Wayne? 

<Next> <All>

(read on Ao3 or continue below cut:)

Prologue

[You have:  (ONE) new message. First message: ]

Bruce! Buddy! Uh, it's me, John. I-I know you're busy - it's why you haven't come to see me in the past two weeks, probably.

Look, it's-it's okay, Bruce. I get it. It’s water under the bridge…okay? It has to be, because I... I need your help, Bruce.

Please... I need you to trust me on this.

BAM.

I don't have to time to explain-

"Damn it, ram the door!"

Dang it - Crane, Bruce, Jonathan Crane! I thought it was just the meds they put me on at first, but -

CRASH .

Gotta go.

[End of message. There are no more messages.]

Chapter 1:  The Sign Forward

Important Spoiler Warning:  use of slur - f*g (mentioned)

Bruce pulled the phone away from his ear, barely feeling the weight in his palm. The people walking down the hall - past him, towards him, down the corner - seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. There should be sound, from the footsteps on the tile and voices and doors swinging open somewhere, but it was like there was nothing at all in the world but Bruce's breathing and the whispering echo of John's voice in his ear, so close and yet so far away.

The transformation of John's voice from nervous to hurt to rushed and desperate chilled him in the same manner Bruce might discover a body floating in the Gotham River.

His phone buzzed, a reminder for the meeting he had in ten minutes sitting above the display for his voicemail, and sound came rushing back all at once.

The message had lasted thirty seconds, from an unsaved number that Bruce had a feeling registered to the old landline in the hallway of John's floor at Arkham. The echo of the bangs and crashes were probably from the orderlies trying to open the hallway door, which miraculously had gotten stuck - John probably locked it, probably caused a distraction in another room to get their attention for the precious seconds he had to dial and pass the message along, tell him to come help...

Bruce felt heat burn his stomach. He should have picked up when it rang, damn the fact that he'd been in the lavatory and damn the way it looked so like the auto-dialing spam he'd been getting for the past few months. He could have picked it up on the second ring, saved Joker some time -

No. Not Joker. John.

Joker was the vigilante, the persona hung up for good like the bat-cowl of the person he was modeled after.

Bruce felt a light pang in his side where the latest scar sat, a twinge that seemed to come and go at odd intervals. There he was, thinking about John like they were still working together in the cover of that warm night several months ago, where things had gone from good to bad to absolutely terrible, where Bruce had decided that the crusade had to stop. Their partnership had been like a dream, too fast and too short, a taste of something that, with time, could've been wondrous.

It was nothing more than a dream of a dream, now. Batman was retired, Joker with him, and now the both of them were trying desperately to get back to a normal life. John's would just take longer. A lot longer.

The air in the hall seemed stifling all of the sudden. Bruce walked as quickly as he could to his office, tempted to break into a run.

The office was cool and bright, but even as he shut the door behind him and let the air conditioning wash over him, the guilt and anger and worry that bubbled under his skin didn't fade. His eyes automatically went to the chessboard - one moved piece and he could just fire up Lucius' old computer, slip right back into the old ways and try and get one of Tiffany's drones over the asylum as he dug into Arkham's files...

Bruce shook his head.

John needed his help. It just couldn't be Batman that helped him. Bruce was an ordinary civilian now - well, a civilian with more money than was sensible and an unusual drive to fix the city's problems in any way he could, but a civilian nonetheless. He could still look into Arkham, into this Johnathan Crane, before things escalated out of hand.

Bruce tried to concentrate on his breathing. John was intelligent and surprisingly strong; even if he was put into isolation as punishment, John would be alright. He hadn't been hurting himself or causing trouble for a couple of months, anyhow...

Bruce paused, staring at the vent on the ceiling. He had tried to see John every Wednesday at the very least, but two weeks ago he was told that John didn't want any visitors, and Bruce had regretfully let it slide, thinking that their argument a few days prior still weighed on his mind. (It wasn’t improbable, what with his tendency to hold grudges, but it had seemed strange.) Last week John had twice been put under observation for some kind of medical testing, and thus was not allowed to be seen under any circumstances, despite the drastically different times Bruce had shown up.

Each time, though, Bruce was under the impression that John would at least be told about his attempted visits. The young doctor-in-training from last time had given him a sympathetic smile and said as much herself, along with a clumsy attempt at flirtation Bruce had played along with for his image's sake.

The thought that John had been left hurt worse than before because of a misunderstanding like that didn't sit well with Bruce. It made him feel like he’d been hit with a burning punch.

His phone buzzed at him, and Bruce glanced down at the calendar notification with annoyance. It was tempting to blow the meeting off, just make up some excuse and head home so he could start digging as much as his civilian identity would allow, maybe make a phone call to Arkham and see if he could get a word out to John under the guise of looking into the progress on the asylum's improvements he was sponsoring.

He breathed deeply, going back into the hall and telling himself that John would be alright for a little while longer - Wayne Enterprises came first in the day, regardless of whether or not a cowl was involved.

Bruce apologized for his tardiness and sat at the too-long table with the rest of the board, his phone practically burning a hole in his pocket as he tried desperately not to think about flipping the table and running out the door like he was giving chase in amongst the humid smog of Gotham's nights.

As per John's voicemail (which Bruce thought he must have listened to half a dozen times), any spare moment Bruce had at Wayne Tower was spent looking up Jonathan Crane. There was no telling who was trying to keep tabs on his phone, so he resorted to double-hopping on his VPN in a private window.

There were a few Jonathan Cranes in the state, spelling considerations included, but only two stood out - one was several cities away, working as the head of a generic-replacement pharmaceutical company, and the other was working right in Gotham, a former professor of psychology at Gotham University who was added on to the Arkham payroll not long after the incident with Lady Arkham.

While the pharmacist had several photos on the company website and a seemingly normal (if seldom used) Friendbook page and several mentions on the company's Chirper, Professor Crane had no social media accounts whatsoever and only two photos, one of which was a tiny faculty photo obviously used on his university I.D. However, he did have several published articles in psychology journals, the last three dealing with the subjects of treating fear and anxiety and how it manifested, the last two of which had rebuttal articles from other doctors listed.

At least some of his courses were listed on RateTheProf, and while many of the higher-rating students listed him as incredibly knowledgeable, they and the lower-rating students warned about his seemingly abrasive personality from over the years:

(*) queenofdiamonds

creepy know-it-all fag kept giving me ds and didn't allow me to do the extra credit!! he likes ds so much??? he can eat my DICK!!!!

(***) vintage-or-die

I swear his office hours are ridiculously tight. Make sure to arrive to class on time and take REALLY good notes - I missed a day I regretted it ever since, he gets the point across so well that the only way you can really copy it down for yourself is to hear it firsthand... Seriously, record the lectures if you suck at writing, it'll save your life.

(*) BigD@ddyy

Fucker put down my final paper so hard i think it broke my ribs. He thinks he knows everything, he doesn't take two words against anything he talks about. I don't know why GU keeps his emotionless scrawny ass.

(****) itty bitty pumpkin pie

Great teacher, but not very personable; he doesn't talk much out of lectures. Make sure to ask before using your phone to record lectures, he'll kick you out if you don't. Also I SWEAR he uses a cell blocker, I can't get any tower or wifi signal in his classes even if we change rooms...

(****) dank memes only

He kicked me out for taking a picture of him once. He's lucky he's such a smart silver fox or I might have quit right there. Learned loads tho.

(*****) dr. psychosubb

Amazing. He gave me a C on my final but his comments on it were so good I can't be mad, I learned so much!! Also if you like hot stern daddys that's a big plus. Hard to hate a face like that!!

(*****) the-night-falls-hard

Seriously the best teacher I ever had. Pay attention and you'll feel like you could take on anything.

Bruce breathed through his nostrils. Professor Crane was critical, solitary, and stubborn, but he clearly left an impression on those who he came into contact with.

While there wasn't many mentions of the professor in news, he managed to find a letter to the editor in the last psychology journal that Professor Crane contributed an article to, aimed at the rebuttal to his last paper - and Bruce figured by the language that it was Crane lashing back:

My Dear Editors,

I'm surprised that such an acclaimed journal of psychology would sink so low as to publish the distasteful words of the so-called Dr. Strange. His work - if you can even call it that - is pure fantastical speculation when it is organized enough to be decipherable. Not only does he genuinely believe in the concept of telepathy, but he is under the childish delusion that he can devise a way to see thoughts put into visual form as if it were something to be filmed. Tell me:  do you think someone with such an obvious deficiency of realistic thought could provide any kind of counter-argument to any sane research? I don't believe he's sound enough to comment correctly on the weather.

If you continue on with publishing the work of people who earned their doctorates by shelling out thousands of dollars to a fly-by-night online institution, you will lose more than just subscribers with half a brain more than you.

Regards,

A Competent Doctor

Bruce read over the last paragraph twice:  it could be read as either a warning or a legitimate threat, and it was impossible to tell which one it was without even knowing what it was that John suspected Crane of doing. But considering the rebuttal in question was published over a year ago and the editor at the time was still in alive and in charge, at least Bruce could say that Crane didn't have that murder in mind. Dr. Strange, however, had no other work published since, either in Psychology Now or any other reputable magazine.

Naturally, he could find nothing on the current work of the former-Professor Crane in Arkham. That would require a hack of the asylum's systems, and even though Bruce knew Tiffany would be up to the task, he decided against it. He knew it would tempt him to go back to his old habits, and that was strictly a no-go.

He'd have to pay Arkham a visit, see what he could figure out from the inside - and hopefully, talk to John.

A/N:  Here we are, just as I promised! I got super into TellTale’s Batman universe last year, and like many fans, S2E05 hurt so bad and so so good that I immediately wanted more. Before I knew it I was already crafting a potential season 3 storyline! I’ll try to update this weekly, since I already have a lot done and I can’t stop thinking about it! (ღ✪ｖ✪)｡o○

Also I seriously try to put any trigger/squick warnings in the front of chapters. If you need something tagged, please say so!

If you’d like to give kudos or comment (or just read all the story’s tags), my ao3 is here, but I really appreciate feedback in any form! 

[cwdcshows]

Batwoman - S1 E1 - Pilot

Alright, now or never.... Here we go..... Wait, how the fuck old is Batman in the present day, that he was already active when Kate was a kid?  So Gotham is so dependent on Batman that they're so desperate to fill the void when he's no longer around (because fuck Robin, Nightwing, Batgirl or the Birds of Prey) that they'd rather have a private security firm instead of, I don't know, making the police department in Gotham better?  How is private security supposed to be any better or less susceptible to corruption, like the GCPD is supposed to be?  A private entity is literally in it for the money, unless it's inexplicably "not-for-profit" - which I suppose it might have to be, since otherwise where would the funding come from?  Kate just says her dad started a private firm, not that he's generously financing free access to such security, but even if he were, what would make his agents immune for the same problems the actual authorities are plagued with in Gotham?  Bruce had any number of factors going in his favor, starting with the fact that he had more money than God, so what could a criminal offer him that didn't already have or could get if he wanted it; not to mention the whole morality thing, combined with the concealed identity, meaning he was literally beyond approach - if you can't be found, no one can offer you a bribe to look the other way.  They also don't know how to find those you love in order to use them as leverage; which was a major reason he concealed his identity.

"Batman gave up on us." Fuck you, you ungrateful bastards.  Either he's dead, which all things considered I kind of hope he is, because if nothing else the Birds of Prey series from 17 years ago (dear God, it's been 17 years??) already used the idea of Batman simply walking away from Gotham.  But even if he didn't, this shit hole city can't seem to just appreciate of whatever strides he made during the time he was active, that he has to get dragged for "abandoning them;" because they apparently can't go unsupervised and everything went to the hell moment he turned his back. If I were Batman, assuming he's not dead, I'd show up at this ceremony just to be like, "Yeah, let me help turn that off - that signal's not a right, it's a privilege; and you guys abused it." And then just slow walk through the crowd, flipping everybody off. "Kate.  It's Mary....Your step-sister?" "Mary, our parents have been married for over a decade.  I know who you are." But the audience doesn't and the writers don't know how to convey things to the audience through anything less than heavy handed expositional dialog, because they think we have the attention span of a two year old.   Wait, what?  You had to travel the fucking world, training with all sort of combat and survival specialists in order to join the private security agency your own fucking father owns and commands?  I mean, I get wanting to avoid accusations of nepotism, but seriously, do all the Crows agents go through that sort of preparation?  Because that seems kind of extreme for such a niche job.  Especially seeing how easily all of those Crows agents get their asses handed to them by seemingly run of the mill street thugs; including the top agent who as it turns out is Kate's old flame.  So a lot of fucking good their training was. Where exactly was she training, that she's already back in Gotham before her father is finished with the briefing about Sophie's capture?   Also, how is surveillance "non-existent"?  I know they took out the cameras focused on the event, which a)how, but more important, there was nothing, no surveillance of any kind in or around the area?  I feel like that should have warranted a stronger response from the head of a fucking citywide security firm so bent on filling Batman's shoes. I'm genuinely curious which "Academy" Sophie and Kate were attending.  I know in the comics they were actually in the army, and the guy who finds them is wearing fatigues, but is this supposed to actually be the military?  Is it the Crows?  Something else?  Don't Ask, Don't Tell was repealed in 2010 and effective since 2011 - which, wow, I can't believe it's been nearly a decade already - so are we to believe that this flashback is taking place more than 10 years ago?  Or is it's a general fraternization thing they're taking issue with? Come on, you can't have it both ways; you can't suggest that Bruce played the billionaire playboy routine to the hilt so much that Kate's dad thinks he a complete disgrace; yet such an integral businessman that his absence lead to the collapse of Wayne Enterprises and its corporate headquarters in Gotham shuttering its doors. Bruce had his mother's peals framed in his office?  That's just weird. So the building is boarded up, the furniture is covered; yet they have a full time security guard working out of a high tech office with a retinal scan - but just the one guy, working in the city that's become a total hell hole since Batman disappeared; because apparently it's vital to look out for squatters and watch the furniture collect dust, but not so important as to commit more than one person to do it at a time..... Why the fuck would any password at Wayne Enterprises be just "Alfred"?  It might as well be fucking Guest.

Why does a place that's literally boarded its doors have access to anything of value to this case, that the Crows don't have access to?  Didn't the one Crows agent say surveillance was "non-existent"?  What sort of useless security firm wouldn't try to find anyone else's surveillance to supplement their own in a situation like this? .....What???  There's a woman from the Crows missing, a woman Kate is known to have a past with (especially by Mary.  You know, her step-sister) and they decide to throw Kate a surprise party. Kate, the woman who was God only knows where until she heard about Sophie being taken hostage; and only came back to Gotham when she did because of that? Do people under 40 still keep boxes of photos, let alone dirty photos that were ostensibly more than ten years ago? How was Kate not qualified for the Crows?  She lasted at least as long and arguably longer than all of the other Crane operatives. That's a lame-ass locking/unlocking mechanism to access your secret vigilante auxiliary lair....  Like that's something the cleaning staff could accidentally trip.

Of all the cases, Bruce had a....what is it....murder board?  Case board?  Whatever.  All about the accident the accident with Kate's mom and sister? No. Dear God, if crime is that bad in Gotham that you need that kind of security at an outdoor fucking movie, just move.  Leave and burn the city on the ground. A bigger issue I have with this scene is the scope relative to everything else.  I've actually helped organize a few outdoor movies for my hometown of about 7000+ people.  We were lucky to get 20 people to come out for it, but the real point is that this looks like an event being put on in a relatively small to medium sized town; hell, they mentioned earlier that the mayor had some kind of say in whether or not it was happening.  Glossing over yet another example of how bad things are if there's concern about allowing a moderately size public function to go on outdoors at night.  This sort of an event looks like it should be a blip on the radar in a sprawling city like Gotham.  It's basically meant to be DC's answer to New  York City.  There should be 5-10 other things of equal importance or public interest going on at the same time; and probably a few other things of a higher profile than people watching Grease 2 in the park. "I don't like that building.  Who's covering it?" "Dobson, sir." "And no one else?" "No, sir." "I'm sure one person in an entire open structure I have tactical concerns about will perfectly fine patrolling that space alone.  It's not like we're under threat of attack by an enemy we've recently encountered who's kicked the ass of several of our agents simultaneously and took one of them hostage.  And we've thoroughly vetted Dobson, right?" "Were you saying something, sir?" "What?  Oh, no.  Just looking forward to seeing Michelle Pfiefer in tonight's movie.  I need a c-o-o-l r-i-d-e-r....."

The Crows security sucks.  Gotham would probably safe under the protection of Paul Blart. That seems to have taken zero effort to tailor Bruce's custom made Batman suit to fit Kate; and my only assumption is that Bruce is actually very petite. Oh my God, Alice is Kate's sister? Whoever could have seen that coming..... :|