#DCU Fic

[vanillagoatly]

Duke Thomas's final design! His hero suit was surprisingly harder to draw, andithink its because of how simple it looks in all of the comic references i used. I did spice it up a little bit, but let me know what you all think!

[flying-nightwing]

Moonlight by the Docks (And They Say Romance is Dead) - Slade Wilson

Hi. It's been a while. But guess fucking what babes, I'm pulling all the stops to be forgiven. It's been more than a YEAR in the making, and mark my word it probably won't happen again so take it all in, but here is the Deathstroke smut a LOT of you have been wanting. Y'all, this is the long awaited sequel to Tango à Deux. Please forgive me?

(it's technically a sequel but can be read as a standalone if you accept that batsis and Slade already know each other)

Also, enjoy!

Pairing: Slade Wilson x Nightshade!Batsis

Word count: 4721

Warnings: violence, death/killing unnamed NPC, porn with plot, dirty talk (lots of it), unprotected sex, p in v, batsis and deathstroke fighting for dominance (NO classic dom/sub dynamics bc that's a pass for me), more dirty talk, body fluid, kinky shit, creampie, biting, rubbing, rough sex, reference to voyeurism, major praise kink, everything is extremely consenting and willing by both ADULT parties, might have missed something but I think if you made it this far you're into it.

Have fun ;)

“Nightshade, status”

You barely heard Batman's hushed check in as you barrelled into a boarded up window, breaking the moulding wood with your shoulders and rolling out of the building as bullets rained over you. You wasted no time getting back on your feet, starting to sprint away from the semi automatic rifles rapid firing in your direction.

“Nightshade, status?”

“JUST A MINUTE” You yelled as you dived behind a large container, flinching at the sound of the bullets hitting the metal and ringing loud into your head. “Fucking fuck shit”

“What's going on?” Batman's voice grew agitated despite remaining a low hiss. “Talk to me Nightshade”

“Wrong fucking intel!” You replied as you jumped on your feet again, taking advantage of the opportunity window their reloading gave you to run across the dockyard to find better cover. “It's happening now! There's at least twenty guys here, all trained and armed to the teeth. And they're all on my ass right now”

What was supposed to be a simple recon mission with a possibility of stealth takedown op turned into a giant mess at the first opportunity. The second you slipped into the warehouse, you quickly realized that the three guards on shift that you had been briefed about was, in fact, a small militia that was ready to be deployed on some combat mission, or that's what you believed was being said before you got made. 

You would have also liked to know in advance that the building was littered with state of the art tripwires, movement detectors and heat sensors. Alas, you had gone in believing it was just a normal warehouse, and you had realized a moment too late you had triggered pretty much every alarm on the upper floor and very much alerted the militia of your presence. 

 “Tell me your position, I'm coming”

Your eyes went to the containers around you, taking as much information as you could without slowing down. Going into the maze of old containers was a great idea until you had to describe your surroundings. “I'm westbound, but those crates all look the same, B”

“On my way”

You ducked as much as you could to make yourself smaller as the symphony of bullets bouncing on the metal caught up to you. You took a hard left, trying to remember which way was more likely to not end up with a dead end, then went to your right. You could hear them shout, not giving up the chase, but you still tempted a look over your shoulder. They weren't on you yet. You faced forward and picked up some speed, rounding the corner towards the darkest and narrowest path to the left.

Before your eyes could even adjust to the shadows cast by the containers, your feet lifted off the ground and a large gloved hand was slapped tight on your mouth. On instinct, you began trashing to get away before your back was pulled flush against a hard armoured chest with a strong arm locking your waist against it. 

“Quiet, little bird”

The militia paused at the crossroad, then after a string of barked orders, turned right. At the same time, your brain took in the orange and dark grey of the armour around you and pieced it with that voice you couldn’t mistake for anyone else's. You stopped struggling, yet, he didn’t release you. His hand was still firmly cupping your jaw while you could feel his other arm flex around your waist. 

He tsked as the echoes of the yells grew more distant. “Once again getting in my way. What will I do with you now?”

You replied something, but it was muffled by his glove. You reached up and pulled his hand down, but he still let it linger on your neck once your mouth was free. You felt a bit weak in the knees and cursed yourself for getting turned on so easily, and even more for your next words. “Hopefully finish what you started last time if you’re not a coward”

Oh, that was so not the thing to say right now. You felt his hand around your neck tighten enough to be noticeable, but still loose enough for you to weigh your next words carefully. The yells once again grew closer, telling you the militia found a dead end and were backtracking towards your position. 

“Do you really want to do this right now?” His voice was so close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. As much as pouncing on him right there and then was generating divine images in your brain, you were still being hunted down by an enemy who’d be on you much sooner than later. And well, if you died riding Deathstroke, Bruce would bring you back to life just to kill you himself, his own code be damned. 

“As much as I wanna say yes,” You breathed back. “This bunch of angry men want me dead, so I believe the smart thing would be to deal with them first”

He released you. “Alright then. I’ll be here”

Your feet were fully back on the ground and you turned around to face him. Wow. You had been so right in your assumption that his other suit–namely, the one he was currently wearing–would be hotter on him. Even in the dark, he looked positively glorious and mighty delicious in all that armour, and with a small armoury worth of weapons strapped all over his, big, strong, menacing body– 

You forced yourself to calm your thoughts down. “A little help would be appreciated”

“Why?” You couldn’t see his face, but you just knew it was full of smug arrogance. “I’ve got my own mission here. Who says they're part of it?”

You glanced in the direction of the ever growing noise, then back to him. “C'mon, I'm literally about to have sex with you, the least you could do is make sure I'm alive for it”

He sighed loudly. “I suppose you make a compelling point”

The militia rounded the corner and spotted you as Slade stepped between their fire and you. In one swift movement, he pulled out his sword and twirled it in his hand, as if provoking the armed men in front of him. For a moment, he just stood there, shielding you from the onslaught of bullets suddenly incoming your way. They all bounced on the front of Slade’s armour, painting him off as some kind of god of war, and you couldn’t help but gawk at the sight. You were so caught onto just how hot he looked that you almost didn’t register him springing into action and starting to cut through the group. 

You reached for your karambit blades in your thigh straps and followed him in, making sure not to stray too far from his shadow to keep your cover from the fire. 

You waited for the reload to duck under his arm, sliding on your knees in a spin and slicing the tendons of two men. That sent them straight into the path of Slade's swords, adding to the bloodshed. You swiftly returned behind him as another round of bullet was fired, but by the sound alone, the number of gunmen was plummeting. 

The next reload came and you once again stepped away from him as he brought his two swords down onto some poor son of a bitch. You noticed a knife coming down and aiming for the small opening between his suit and his mask, so you sprung into action. 

Literally.

You used his propped up knee to propel yourself up and jump onto the guys' shoulders, gripping onto him by squeezing your thighs around his skull. He tried to get you off of him by spinning and thrashing like a mechanical bull, but you held on tight. He was getting desperate to throw you off as pressure grew around his head, lifting his knife in the air to stab your leg. You were faster however, reacting on instinct and plunging your karambits into his neck. 

He began sputtering as he tried to claw at his throat, blood squirting out of his artery and onto your suit. He dropped down to his knees and you got off, only then noticing he had been the last one standing. Key word, had been. He fell down on the floor in a puddle of his own blood as you observed him. Then, you felt like you were being watched intensely. 

You trailed your gaze up to see Slade on his feet and unmoving among the carnage he had mostly caused. You couldn't help the thoughts that flashed into your mind, or the way your body reacted to it. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, wondering what the hell was wrong with you.

Because somehow, you found it fucking hot.

And the fact that he did all of that just to get a taste of you? Yeah that did it. You completely switched your brain off as your feet took determined steps to him, quickly closing the distance to him and paying no mind to the bodies littering the floor. The second you were in front of him, you ripped his mask off and kissed him hard. 

And he was ready for you. Without a single after thought of hesitation, his gloved hand yanked your hood back and cupped your neck, dragging you back in the shadows with him. 

Just like the first time you sneaked out in a quiet place to make out, his lips were rough and insistent on yours. His hands were busy mapping your body, gripping your hips tight as he pushed you back onto the metal of the container. Like a reflex, his fingers seeked your back for a zipper, but found none. He kept searching for the proper way to undo your suit, until he pulled back with a glare of frustration.

You rolled your eyes. “I'll take care of mine, take care of yours”

Of course it was hard to figure out, it was made as such. But telling him that would only push him to try and get it and you weren't nearly patient enough right now to nurse his ego. 

In practiced motions, you undid your belt and unclasped several buckles that held the top part of your suit to the bottom. You barely had the time to pop off the button of the waistband that you were pushed once again on the cold metal, a much larger hand quickly replacing yours. 

Your pants were quickly undone and his hand slid down your stomach, reaching their destination with haste. You gasped as his calloused fingers began working on your clit, rubbing it in circles at a pace that was both tortuously slow and absolutely fantastic. His free hand slapped on your mouth just as you let out a moan that would have definitely bounced around the whole shipyard. 

He tsked. “As much as I would like to hear you, I'd rather not get interrupted by another armed militia. You'd agree, wouldn't you?”

Your breath shuddered and you nodded. Still, his hand didn't go away. 

He gave you a smug smirk. “I'll keep it there just in case”

You didn't even think about arguing, instead, you squeezed his forearm to encourage him to keep going. His fingers expertly worked you, alternating between pressure and friction and making your eyes roll back into your skull. Your hips followed his movements, chasing more friction from the fabric of his glove. You were greedy for him, for his hands, for his body. All you wanted to do is take, take and take, and luckily for you, he seemed more than happy to give it all to you and more. 

“That's it little bird, fly for me”

His hand moved just right with his words, and you couldn't do anything else to obey his command. You let go and came harder than you had in years, your vision going completely white for a second. Good thing his hand was muffling your voice, otherwise you were sure the whole city would have heard your scream bouncing from the dock. 

When he was certain your whimpers had quieted to an acceptable level, he took off his hand from your mouth and caressed the side of your head. “I think I like you like this” He hummed. “Being a good girl for me”

You were already half coherent from your orgasm, but him calling you a good girl like this, even if it was most likely condescending, was definitely getting you worked up for round two. “Fuck, if this is what you give me every time, I'll be whatever you want”

Oh yeah, you were NOT thinking with your brain at the moment. 

And the groan coming from him did not help calm down your heartbeat. And judging by how his entire body flexed along, you could only figure out those words of your equally turned him on, creating a feedback loop that threatened to keep you here with him until well past sunrise. 

Like a man starved, he shoved you back into the wall with his whole body, pinning your naked hips with his. You took in a sharp breath when his hard cock rubbed against your sensitive clit, spreading your orgasm all over his pants. Before you can make any more noises, his lips were on yours, reclaiming back with interest his dues from the previous ride. The grinding of his hips against yours drove you delirious and made you forget everything that wasn't about him right now. 

He reached between his body and yours and pulled out his cock, letting it bounce on his chest piece and stand proud, already glistening with precum. Just like the rest of him, he was huge. Good thing you had a whole waterpark going down there, otherwise he would never have fitted. He snaked his arms around your thighs and put his hands on your ass, then hoisted you up like you weighed nothing more than a feather.  

“Not one drop on this suit” You warned breathlessly as he lined himself with you.

“What, no more ruining your clothes?” He raised a teasing eyebrow. 

“That dress was worth pocket change compared to this” You replied, eyelids half open as you forced the moment of clarity. “Buying me a new one would have you file for bankruptcy”

“Fine, no stain whatsoever” He drawled out, leaning into your space once again and ghosting his lips on your ear. “Will you be my good girl and take it all inside then?”

The spell you had broken returned tenfold over you as your knees buckled. It took you several seconds to find your voice and prepare an answer that wouldn't be an embarrassingly loud moan. “If I say yes, will you get going?”

The pressure from his tip at your entrance alone made you whimper in absolute delight. This is what had been peeking more and more often in your naughty dreams ever since you met, and more often than not they ended with your hand doing what you now knew was a mediocre impression of his.

Slowly, he lowered you into him until you couldn't go further down. You were so full of him it was literally impossible to think about anything other than the pressure between your legs and the massive cock impaling you. That too, had been greatly underestimated by your imagination. Nothing would have done the real thing justice. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him just a little bit deeper, and it took all of his restraint not to start fucking you like an animal after that. 

“Fuck little bird,” He said, his voice low and rough. You hadn't started moving yet, but a quick squeeze around him made him let out a low grunt that you would definitely replay in your head later on. “You always take ‘em that easy?”

“I think that's only you,” Feeling bold at how much he tried to act tough about it, you decided to return the favour. You snaked your arms around his neck and pulled yourself closer, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses up until you reached his ear. “Maybe your little bird has just been dreaming about getting railed by the big bad wolf one night too many to give him any resistance”

He switched his hands from your ass to your waist and pushed you back roughly on the wall. The angle changed and stars flashed in your vision for a moment. 

“Why don't you tell me about those dreams?” His words were demands and he started moving inside of you, hips thrusting forward in a tortuously slow movement. Yet, it made your body sing along, meeting him halfway. 

“It always starts with you dragging me off to a dark secluded place after I said some shit to get you hard” You smiled as he kept hitting the right spot. Your focus on his questing was a lifeline you gripped with all you had not to just become some fucked out doll for him. You intended to make him work a little more before getting to this point. 

He gave you a particular hard thrust that made you gasp for air. “Keep going on, little bird” He grunted in your ear.

“And then– Fuck” You threw your head back on the wall. He wasted no time claiming your open neck, grazing his teeth on the skin. “No marks either”

You could practically feel him rolling his eyes, but he backed off with the teeth and kept going on with his lips. “And then what?”

“And then we rile each other up properly” You smirked as you threaded your hand in his hair and gripped hard. The low reverberating moan that came out of him combined with the very obvious twitching of his dick inside of you nearly made you finish right here and there. “Your head between my legs, taking good care of me…”

His thrusts definitely picked up speed as your words hit their mark. He did nip your neck at the moment, but it was light enough that you let it fly. 

“Then when you show that you know how to warm me up, I'd get down on my knees–” That made his hips jut forward and hit a deep spot in you that made you moan like a whore. “Maybe– Maybe even let you fuck my face if your tongue made me cum hard enough–”

“Fuck, who knew Gotham's little princess had such a dirty mouth on her, huh?” He straightened up and returned his glove to your oversensitive clit, brushing it hard enough to catch your voice in your throat. “What would everybody think if they saw you so eager to be my good little fuck toy?”

That would be a proper scandal indeed. 

“I don't care what they'd think” You managed to mumble. It was getting harder to keep your mind sharp now that he had begun rubbing you again. “They can even watch, as long as they don't interrupt”

You should have kept your damn mouth shut, you realized seconds later. You had obviously called irony upon yourself just by speaking the words.

“Nightshade?”

It was like you were suddenly doused with a bucket of ice water. You grew rigid as your earpiece came to life with probably the last voice you wanted to hear right now. Your eyes slowly widened as you remembered that your father was on his way to be your backup. And him walking in on you and Slade wouldn't be as low key as it had been with your brothers. There would be bloodshed. 

Slade obviously noticed your change of attitude and paused his thrusts. You dreadfully raised your hand to your comm and double tapped it to turn on the mic. 

“B?”

It took a few seconds for Slade to understand what was going on, and the shit eating grin he gave you told you he definitely wouldn't make the next step easy. With his good eye never leaving your face, he began thrusting again, challenging your murderous glare.

“I got delayed by another armed group in the shipyard,” He explained. “I’m on my way now. Where are you?”

You thanked whatever divine intervention that put obstacles on his way, because you had totally forgotten about him once you had caught sight of Slade. You were in an uncomfortable situation, but not as much as if he had walked on you. You took a moment to come up with a good enough excuse to keep him away just a little bit longer for you to get out of this mess. In the meanwhile, Slade still kept at it, obviously trying to make you slip. “Um, I–” You coughed to hide a gasp as he hit you deep.

‘Fuck you’ you mouthed to Slade, which he replied in the same fashion, ‘Already am’. That fucker.

“Nightshade, what’s going on?”

You could have killed him right there if he hadn’t been doing it so right. 

“Nightshade?”

“Yep, uh,” You took a deep breath and got a hold of yourself. Batman was getting impatient and you had to start being credible. You made a show of coughing exaggeratedly before speaking your next words, your eyes never leaving Slade's. “Just got sucker punched. It's fine though, it just took me by surprise. T'was nothing but a weak shot”

Slade’s smug expression faltered just a little, and you gave him your own version of the shit eating grin he was no longer giving you.

“Ok, where are you now?”

“I've backtracked and now Northbound, but I’ve got it under control” You took the opportunity of your previous lie to breathe deeply and counter some of the absolutely not family-friendly noises that were threatening to come out of your mouth instead of words. “But I’m not the only one here–” Deep breath. “I was being chased, and then I wasn’t. Only a couple of guys kept my trail… Somebody is picking out targets here. I think it would be smarter to fall back on the meetup point and recon”

“... Are you sure?”

“Positive” The word came out short and dry. “I think they might have done the same”

“Alright, I’ll reroute”

“I’ll catch up to you” You managed to say without tripping. “Nightshade out”

You made sure your comm was definitely off before hitting Slade on the chest. He only let out a quiet chuckle at what most likely felt like a breeze to him. “Asshole”

He leaned forward and rested his whole forearm on the container behind you, then thrust up. The new angle had you rolling your eyes in your skull, seeing black and orange stars in the blur of your vision. “Gotta make you pay somehow for all that work you made me do”

“As if you haven’t enjoyed it– oh”

He resumed his pace from before the untimely interruption, effectively cutting off your train of thoughts. “Now little bird, I believe you have somewhere else to be. Such a shame I don't have time to make you beg for it”

“Mhhfp, fine” You muttered as your arms went back around his neck. “Just because you have been quite compliant with my demands–”

He seemed confused for a second, until you pulled yourself up and nuzzled against his neck, letting out your prettiest little moans every time his hips hit yours. With your voice low enough just for him to hear, you gave him what he wanted. 

“Please Slade, I need it” The out of rhythm thrusts and the low grunt that you felt through his chest told you everything you needed to know. “I need your cum inside of me, fuck your cum into your good girl”

He slapped a hand on the wall behind you and wrapped his other arm around your waist, moving you faster up and down with his own thrusts forward. He grunted louder and louder in your ear, getting closer to his release. You had no idea if it was the begging or his reaction to it that turned you on, but you were getting pretty close as well. 

“Fuck, little bird” His voice was rough and low, and you couldn't help the nip to his throat instead of something louder. “I'll ruin you– I'll fucking ruin you”

“Please ruin me” You whined, feeling the familiar crescendo of your orgasm build. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, please, I'm so close, please don't stop”

“C'mon, be a good girl and cum for me” 

He drove you into the wall with his hips and the friction of his belt on your clit drove you to the edge. You had expected it, but holy shit, your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your walls clenched around him hard and you pulled him deeper into you with your legs, holding onto him with everything you got. Your vision fully went white and your teeth bit into his neck like they had a mind of their own. 

After a string of swears, he completely lost his rhythm and stilled, his hips sputtering forward and spilling inside of you with a low moan that almost got you ready for another round. 

You didn't move for a moment, focusing on catching your breath. Your eyes were half closed, glazed over, watching sweat pearl over Slade's exposed skin and your bite mark slowly disappearing on his neck. 

“Something interesting about my neck, miss Nightshade?”

A genuine smile curved up your lips at his comment; the same he had made all those weeks ago when you were waltzing around the dance floor. “Just admiring the view, that's all” You signed, content. “Why, are you afraid I will bite it off?”

He shook his head, looking up at the sky in a failed attempt to appear annoyed that you also remembered exactly what you replied.

“Huh, I guess you were into it after all” You mumbled as you slowly let yourself slide off of him and fell back on your feet. 

He took a good look at the mess he had made, seeming satisfied at how your knees slightly buckled as you hit the ground. Without a word, he pulled himself back in his trousers and readjusted his belt.

You then started to pull back on your suit, the rough material now sitting uncomfortably on your sweaty skin. “That's gonna be a bitch to clean…” You thought aloud, realizing tonight's run was far from over and the many body fluids would have time to nicely settle in the fabric.

“You said not a drop on the outside” Slade commented, then pointed at the clearly not soiled outside layer of the suit. “And none there is”

You couldn't help but laugh as your eyes subconsciously went to his own suit, where the glistening on his thigh guards extended to darker spots on his trousers. Anybody catching a glimpse of it would know exactly what caused the wet spot, and nobody would mistake it for him soiling himself. “Can't say the same for you”

He looked down, then frowned in what you could only describe as a cartoonish way. “Hm. This is upsetting. Whatever will I do”

Both of your eyebrows shot up as you let out a short laugh of disbelief. “What that… a joke?”

He only gave you a stern look that didn’t quite reach his good eye as he put back his mask on. 

“Oh, he has a sense of humour now? Who would have known” Despite your half dizzy state, your brain still found enough drive to tease him about it. Considering he was rearranging your guts minutes ago, you believed it was now fair game. 

He pointed a warning finger at you after he finished making sure everything was strapped correctly on his armour. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood”

You rolled your eyes as you flipped back your hood on. “Yeah I fucking bet. ‘Can say thank you Nightshade about it”

As expected, he elected not to comment on that. He only turned around and looked over his shoulder. “Until next time, little bird”

You did gratuitously check out his ass as he walked away, then prepared a damn good reason to give Batman to explain your dishevelled state.

[justrandomfanfictionskh]

When strange energies over Italy and Greece are caught on the Watchtower sensors. Diana is sent back to Themyscira to consult with her mother about the events. It turns out that while she was running around space with the Justice League A LOT happened. And while normally she would do anything to protect the Demigods of Camp Half-Blood from the chaos of the mortal world, with Batman sniffing around, things might just be coming to head…This could get messy.

[editorofeverything]

New DP X DC idea where Danny is magicked away from his home realm for a long ass time (maybe CW had something to do with it?) and when he gets back, everyone is all grown up with children and lives outside of ghost hunting. Up to you if he aged at all or is the same age as when he disappeared. Maybe Jazz marries into the Batfam (this idea struck after reading a post about Jazz/Jason) and Danny comes back to meet a little niece/nephew. Even better if the bats and birds are aware that Jazz has a missing brother and had looked into it, only for him to just show up one day. Imagine learning Elle has grown up without Danny being there to see it. Everyone graduating high school. Jazz’s, and maybe even Tucker and Sam’s, wedding.

Just Danny fighting for so long to come back home only to relearn everything and everyone he ever knew.

[ravcns]

My Darkest Hours

Dick grayson x fem!reader

info: somewhat inspired by after hours the weeknd seeing your ex who broke up with you without explanation, reader is a civilian

It was official, you hated galas. The previous night you debated not going since without a doubt he was going to be here. It was unavoidable though since you needed to keep up public appearances, plastering on a fake smile for the media your parents beside you doing the same. The public didn’t know but they had been divorced for two years both having their own hookups here and there. It was the same routine once the flashing lights of the cameras were gone they would split ways, leaving you alone to fend for yourself. Mingling with the wealthy was not one of your strong suits. He used to keep his hand resting on the small of your back, reassuring you that he was still there. Even after all this time had passed you found yourself seeking him out in the crowd.

Dick grayson in all his glory, surrounded by all the daughters of these high end families. They all flock towards him, fawning over his money and looks. Mostly the money though everyone knew the Wayne family was very well off. While you were staring at some point the youngest of their family Damian had walked up to you. “You should go over there.” He advised. “And look like I’m desperate? No thanks.” You replied. “Grayson may not admit it but he misses you.” He explained. “Did he send you over here to say that?” You asked. “L/N, this is extremely painful.” Confusion took over your features, “What?” “You two keep looking at one another when the other looks away. Look at him does he look happy?” Damian asked. You took the time to study your previous boyfriend surrounded in the crowd. Dick didn’t look happy at all, having a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and overall looking tired. “What do I even say?” Great, you were asking the fifteen year old for advice. “Just start with a simple hello.” He nudged you in the direction of them.

Making your way through the crowd you tried to calm the feeling of anxiety that clawed at your chest, threatening to steal your breath. Technically you two didn’t end on bad terms so there really wasn’t anything to be nervous about. Moving through the multitude of girls you came face to face with Dick Grayson. “Hi.” You said with a smile. His face lit up no longer showing the previous exhaustion. “Y/N, hey. Do you wanna sit at the bar?” He whispered his question, trying to escape the girls. You grabbed his hand leading him to two seats.

“Thank you. That was suffocating.” He told you. After ordering drinks you spoke. “So we have a lot to talk about, Dick.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Either you start explaining or go join those girls over there again.” You stated, swirling your drink. “I owe you that much. To start off I still do really love you but, let me tell you why we needed to end things.”

a/n literal garbage but there will be a part two

[kybee1497]

Supergirl aka Kara Kal-El aka Cara Kent

They let her go, and she zips down the hall and tears into the living room, feeling brightness and lightness and like she leaves a streak of color in the air behind her, after-images of gorgeous light. She doesn’t, she knows, but she feels it.

Okay so I read blondes really do have more fun by @suzukiblu today and it blew me away! It was beautiful and heartbreaking and bubbly and sweet and so, so many things.

I knew as soon as I finished reading that I wanted to make a moodboard. At first I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go with a fic or character focused moodboard. Ultimately, the imagery and emotions that supergirl wrestles with are so vivid and gorgeously written I just wanted to put something together that kind of looks the way she feels as herself, that light, floaty happiness.

Gender swap AU’s are such a good opportunity for exploring gender identity that don’t get used often enough. Blondes is probably the best I’ve ever read and I’m already looking forward to my next time through.

Anyways that’s a long way of saying thank you suzukiblu for writing such an incredible fic!! 💜

[rewinded-time]

Ch.32 : There's a Man at the Window

HAHA I SAID END OF THE MONTH AND I MEANT IT Y'ALL!!!

[way-of-love]

The Heat of Adam (Teth-Adam x FemReader) (SPOILERS) (R-RATED) (PART 2)

Alright guys, here's PART 2! I've been quite sick so please bare with me as I try to write these beautiful ideas on my laptop! Also thank you so much to those who truly found this story a good read, love you all!!

And yes there will be a part 3!

PART 1 PART 3

-Currently you are the sister-in-law to Isis, the woman who found the tomb of Teth-Adam. You are the sister of the deceased husband of Isis and the only living aunt of Among, Isis and your brothers son. You felt for Adam during your time with him knowing all along that he was filled with more good than bad. During your journey with him and your family, you finally knew you cared for him more than you should...-

After internally admitting your feelings for the hero you were now waiting for the perfect moment to admit how you felt to him. You knew it would be difficult, especially knowing his past and what the poor man went through with his previous family. Not that you were saying you’d want to start one with him but, you know, maybe he could start something with you?  

You were with him hours ago when he admitted to wanting to spend more time with you. That, you obviously didn’t deny. He sat with you at the foot of the throne talking and giving you an insight into his past, even spoke briefly about his wife and son that he thought he allowed to die. That, he blamed himself for. You knew there was nothing he could’ve done, or anyone for that matter because after all everyone was still human. For him, it was a mistake he truly wasn’t going to make again. And he made that perfectly clear to you. He confessed he enjoyed speaking to you about anything and everything and he was grateful for the things your family had done for him and you for always being there and showing you how the world changed, how his world has changed.  

Then it came to the hardest thing you think he had to do yet, he confessed that he would have to go away for a while and discuss a few things with ‘important’ people. And he won’t be back until those discussions are over. In your mind you thought the Justice League finally snatched him up, but he quickly shut that idea down when it presented itself with Superman. Khandaq only had a hero for a few days and already the world was snatching him for itself, well the damn Justice League was. And you, left with nothing but the ghost of him until he returns.  

First, you brother was taken and killed, your nephew gets kidnapped but thankfully saved and now the only man you’ve ever felt something for was leaving. Oh, how cruel the world could be. 

You sat in the living room early that morning when Adam dropped you off through the hole in the wall by the shabby balcony, saying he’d visit before he departed. After spending those few hours just talking to him and hanging by the thread trying not to fall asleep, he called it a day and flew you home where you found yourself more awake than ever after he flew away. 

You were in a dream-like state replaying the conversation earlier that morning before the sun rose. He kept telling you that when he returned, he’d be a better man than how he was currently. He even asked you to wait for him... did that mean he liked you too? You wanted to ask him so much what he meant by what he said but you couldn't muster up the words to do so. 

“Auntie? When did you get home? I didn’t hear you come in,” Amon, holding his skateboard under one arm and his backpack slung over the other. He looked ready to start his day as usual.  

You glanced back at him with a small smile, even reached a handout for him that he took without hesitation. Though he was a tad confused and a bit worried, you were the fun aunt not the mood dampening aunt. Looking at him reminded you why you never had kids of your own, too much emotion was needed to raise a child and you thought you could never do it in your line of work. But seeing Amon like this caring and comforting you made you realize maybe one kid wouldn’t hurt. After all, if your brother could raise a family, why couldn’t you? 

“Are...you okay auntie?” His brows furrowed in concern while the corner of his mouth tilted up trying to smile a bit hoping to ease this atmosphere of longing you created.  

“After the events of yesterday I’m more than alright. I was so glad that we saved you before anything worse happened. Adam...Black Adam is a hero, without him I’m not sure we’d save you,” Amon smiled warmly at you before dropping to one knee beside where you sat placing his skateboard down and looking up at you. 

“You saved me too, Auntie. You’re a hero too. After dad...died. It was hard on both me and mom, but mom took it the hardest. Then you started living with us and it felt like Dad never left. You helped mom find justice for him and while you did that, you guys found Teth- Adam! I mean, you are the reason he even stayed here in Khandaq,” Amon looked more bewildered with every word that left his mouth. It warmed your heart seeing him like this, and it was all thanks to Adam. Though one thing did stick out about what he said.  

With furrowed brows you asked him, “What do you mean he stayed because of me? He stayed because this is all he’s known...for the time being,”  

Amon gave you a knowing look and shook his head, he looked like he had a secret he wasn’t going to tell you,” Auntie, Black Adam wouldn’t have stayed here in the city if it weren't for you,” The young boy stood back up and placed a solemn hand on your shoulder feigning pity, “Just wait ‘till he tells you because I don’t like meddling in adult stuff.” 

You sat there staring pan faced at your nephew trying to understand what exactly this kid was saying at eight or nine in the morning. Your brain wasn’t functioning quickly enough for him, so he shakes his head, picks up his skateboard and heads towards the apartment door. 

“Amon you better not be pulling my leg here or I swear no more late-night secret comms tapping.” Slowly you came to a stand and narrowed your tired eyes at him and all he did was snicker. 

“Auntie, I’m not sure if adults still call it this but... Black Adam does like you. He’s just, how do you say, like a rock. Stubborn and doesn’t admit it easily like a normal person just give him time.” 

You didn’t realize it then, but Teth- Adam left a big mark in not only your life but in your families lives as well. It was going to be a hard... goodness however long he was going to be away. You just hoped by the time he comes back things, feelings will be the same and that finally you could tell him just how much you care for him. 

------------------------------------ 

ONE YEAR AND A FEW MONTHS LATER  

As it turns out after saving a few cities with the help of the Justice League Black Adam was getting a handle of this superhero stuff. But the damage, the intel you worked for, was taken for granted. You had hoped that he wouldn’t be over glorified like all those red, white, blue washed heroes but turns out he was slowly becoming just like them.  

The real heroes were the ones who rebuilt, sacrificed their very lives for information that delt damage to their enemies. Who killed their enemy. Yet, the root of evil keeps coming back with more heads after one was slain. So many people suffered because of these decisions, people without power never lasted long in this world, it just wasn’t fair.  

Now, you who worked for a secret organization had an insight into everything these heroes did thanks to a leak in Amandas Wallers systems, you knew what the heroes knew so that meant your organization did too. With vital information like this you could easily sell it to the highest bidder on the blackest market known to man or do the good thing and use it to your advantage. Of course, you were the good doer and used it to better the lives of people who were done wrong by heroes and their mottos.  

Shifting the black hot liquid in the mug you and Isis, your sister-in-law, watched the news in your new boxed tv. Her brother managed to scrape together some electronic parts to fix a semi modern tv up. Amon was currently in school, so he didn’t have that pleasure to witness the little surprise that was in store for the adults that morning.  

After a year of a no call no letter and even a no show of Adam you simply gave up. You tried to contact him without raising suspicion or alarms in your direction, but you heard nothing back from him. Even when you went away to America on a solo mission, you were so close to his floating form that you called to him, but he did not answer. Right then you knew this was not the Black Adam that asked you to wait for him, this was Americas Black Adam. And with a heavy heart you accomplished your mission and returned home heartbroken and confused. Why’d he ignore you like that? You knew there was nothing wrong with his hearing. He was superhuman! He chooses to ignore you that day. 

It took you weeks to get over that ache in your chest, you went on missions, took under the table jobs until you ended up hurting yourself on a dangerous info retrieval mission by Russia. You were in an arm cast for months, last week the doctor gave the okay and removed it. Isis was also scolding you about how much you’ve been working, that if you worked too hard, you’ll land in an early grave…just like your older brother. It hurt but it was true. He lived his life trying to free Khandaq and died trying so hard to do so. You’ll be next if you don’t take a break. 

After a few calls and Amons complaints to you, you decided to take a month off to…relax. Now at a different apartment further from the city and closer to Isis’s new teaching job in the university, you ran the house for her. The freed city gave her the job she lost back with more privileges, meaning this spacious apartment and higher pay. Amon was taking full advantage of the time he had now that his mother was working at the university; going out exploring more of the ruins before his mother came home, discovering more hidden nooks and crannies inside the apartment building. You always thought he was a smart kid, so you gave him a time limit to do so. 

He reminded you so much of you and your brother when you both were just children. As you cleaned up around the kitchen you noticed the picture Isis kept of the small family when your brother first moved in with her. The four of you, Isis, your brother, and her brother were piled onto a tiny kitchen table with open boxes everywhere filled with dishes or glasses. Isis was pregnant with Amon during that time and didn’t know, that’s what made the picture so sweet. Everyone was in it. Everyone except Adam. 

With a heavy sigh you placed the picture back on the small fridge replaying the memories you had in that one tiny apartment when you heard the front door of the apartment open. Immediately you thought Amon was home, so you spoke without looking up from the picture. 

“Dinner’s ready Amon, make sure to wash up and put your skateboard away. Also, dust off whatever dirt you may have so,” You turned around to face Amon, “That your mom…doesn’t…” 

Your words trailed off when you noticed Amon wasn’t the only one standing in the doorway. The big, tall familiar being wearing a dark hood over his head stood there behind a nervous looking Amon. 

He quickly came inside and went straight to you grabbing your arm and shaking it lightly. But your attention stayed fixated on the man who had your heart standing by the now closed door of the shared apartment. You were shocked to see him and even more shocked that he had the audacity to come back. 

“Auntie! Auntie! He came back, Teth Adam came back!” Your poor nephew sounded excited or relieved, you didn’t feel any of that whatsoever. In fact, you felt…angry that he was here. How dare he show up and not even to you or to his people but to your nephew. The one person he knew wouldn’t push him away because of how long he’s been gone.  

“How…How dare you come back?” The words were out your mouth before you could stop them. You saw how his shoulders tensed under his fucking cloak as if what you said hurt him. Oh please. You crossed your arms under your chest and tilted your head as if to say, ‘Explain yourself now.’ 

Amon stood in front of you looking like a kid caught awkwardly in a fight between his married parents. He shuffled closer to you and looked up into your furious eyes,” Auntie, I saw him by the old apartment. He was looking for us, who knows how long he was looking for us!” There he goes justifying the heroes' actions. 

“Khandaq isn’t that big. If he was and wanted to look for us, he’d find us by now on his own,”  

“Auntie please- “ 

“Amon,” His deep voice shook your bones and warmed your core. “Let me talk to your aunt. There’s a lot that needs to be said and I won’t shy away from this confrontation,” 

“Look at you using big hero words,” A scoff left your mouth. 

You guessed that’s all Amon needed and nodded. Adjusting his backpack that was slung over his shoulder he began to head towards the living room but not before stopping by Adam and giving him his own warning a childlike one, “Try not to hurt my aunt again this time.” And he disappeared into the living room. 

The two of you were left, him by the door and you in the kitchen. But you suppose the distance wasn’t a fitting one so Black Adam decided to close that distance and walk slowly, not usually like him, into the kitchen. That stupid hood still covered most of his face except for below his nose so you couldn’t see exactly what he was thinking or see how he was feeling. He now stood a few feet from you peering at you no doubt from under his hood. It was annoying. 

You released an exasperated sigh and raised a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose, “Are you going to leer at me or are you going to give me an explanation? Why’d you suddenly leave without a proper goodbye and not even bother to acknowledge my presence? Did you find an American woman and decided to leave your life behind here? What?” You didn’t realize the tone of your voice was rising until Isis’s brother peeked over at you from the living room with Amon who was also wide eyed. You rarely yelled and when you did it was either while playing a game with Amon or yelling during your own missions but never like this, not when you were upset. 

Being tense like this wasn’t good for the heart. You relaxed a bit well as much as you could while having the man that almost broke your heart standing before you. 

“I know you're upset with me. And you have every right to be. I made you a promise that I intended to keep but I broke it instead,” He reached up and slowly removed his black hood revealing his face to you finally, after a year and some months you saw his face. He looked the same but his dark eyes...they looked so worn. As if he hasn’t slept in days, no scratch that month.  

Without hesitation you raised your hands and cupped his cheeks, worry written all over your face, “What in the world happened to you? Did they send you out into space or something? Adam...you look so bad,”  

He closed his eyes briefly and you felt the way he gently nudged his cheek into your palm some. “I told you, I wanted to come back a changed man. And I did accomplish that,” You only shook your head and took your hands back. A changed man wouldn’t just leave, ignore the person who clearly freed him from that stupid prison, never contact you when he clearly knows you’ve been trying to contact him. Nor does he suddenly come back out of the blue and try to mend things back to how they were. He must’ve seen how conflicted you were, so he didn’t bother reaching for you, he gave you space.  

“I know I have no excuse for the way I acted. Nor do I have an excuse for communicating with you about where I was, when I’d be back,” You didn’t bother to look up at his face now because if you did, you’d probably fold and tell him that it was okay when clearly it wasn’t. He knew how you felt you made it pretty obvious to him when you were helping him run around the city after you freed him with Isis. And for some strange reason your nephew knew Black Adam had a crush or liked you, yet after the whole year of not hearing a single response or even a look of acknowledgment in America to feel reassured that he was the same Adam that flew you to your home that beautiful morning. But you got nothing. Did he even like you? Was that even a thing? 

You felt a thick warm finger tuck under your chin and forced your head up, now you were looking up into those dark eyes that seemed to hold so much emotion as clear as day. Some may think he was glaring down at you and others may think he was plotting your death but for you, for you he looked like he was trying to show you how sorry he felt.  

“I tried to protect you. No one knows you as a spy, they only know you as Y/N the person who helped liberate Khandaq and freed me. If I showed any more interest, then I’d be freeing you from your own prison right now,” He spoke low and close to you. No one knew what you really did as an occupation, it was dangerous work and you only told Adam because...you were head over heels for the brute and truthfully no one would truly believe him, unless...unless he showed interest and Waller decided to investigate. Squeezing your eyes shut it dawned to you that what he was saying was absolutely true. And here you were yelling at him like some kid in middle school all because your feelings were hurt. You must stop hanging with your nephew so much. 

“Adam I... I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking about that. I was just—I didn’t know what I was thinking,” Apology after apology left your lips and all he did was cup your delicate cheeks with his calloused palms and smile, he genuinely smiled down at you.  

“Y/N, there's no need for apologies. You did what you felt and... you thought you were doing the right thing. I, on the other hand, will need to apologize,” Adam leaned in closer to you, shoulders hunched a bit, and he was blocking most of your view from the living room and blocking the view to you.  

Brows furrowed you looked at him confused while cradling his wrists with your hands, “Apologize? You were just protecting me Adam,” Now he was getting a little too close, but you couldn’t jerk your head back even if you wanted to.  

“No, for this,” It didn’t take long for you to put the pieces together as to what he meant but when you did his lips were already on yours. Surprise wasn’t the word to describe how you felt. Excited? In awe? Shocked? Maybe all the above. He was kissing you, really kissing you! This wasn’t a dream...this was real. You slowly closed your eyes and let his slightly chapped lips mold against your softer ones. You’ve dreamt of this day for such a long time and now that it was happening you didn’t know where to put your hands or even breathe. But Adam did. 

He lowered one of his hands to your waist then your hip while your hands slid down his forearms feeling the thick barbed muscle and went straight to those broad shoulder you absolutely drooled over. As big as he was, he sure was gentle. Though you were glad that didn’t stop him from taking the initiative and pushing the kiss up another notch. A tongue gently glided across your bottom lip causing you to stop and open your eyes encountering two dark chocolate orbs staring right back at you half lidded.  

“I apologize,” His voice was hoarse when he whispered, it sent a shiver down your spine. As quickly as he apologized just as quickly his tongue slipped between your awaiting lips crashing against your own tongue. A sudden moan left your lips when you finally got to taste him which in turn made him make a low groan himself. Your tongues were clashing against one another in a heated wet battle of who was sorrier than who but you both knew that wasn’t it. This passionate, desperate kiss was long overdue and now that it was time to collect you both were like teenagers making out.  

His hands no longer respectfully stayed in their PG stations, they now roamed and gripped wherever they could. Gripping your sides, your hips before sliding back and finally cupping your plentiful rear. You were thankful you were wearing shorts because you were able to feel his rough hands upon the skin of your thighs. You pulled at his cape over his shoulders wanting him to be closer, closer than skin. That's what you wanted.  

It wasn’t until he slid his hand back down your thigh and gripped it pulling it up over his hip, you were now flushed against him. Groin against groin and you felt just how happy he was to be kissing you in your sister-in-law's kitchen. Goodness, were you really going to do it here? In the kitchen?  

“What in the hell is going on in here?” Isis’s voice broke you out of your trance causing you to jump and stare wide eyed at Adam who looked like he was about to dive in for another kiss. Luckily you stopped him with a shove to his chest, but he didn’t budge, wouldn't budge. Slowly you stood on your toes on the leg that was touching the ground to peer over at Isis over his shoulder.  

“Um-- Adam is uh... he’s back,” Your other leg was still being held captive by his hand keeping it pressed to his hip. 

“Clearly,” Isis crossed her arms looking at the two of you standing in her kitchen with disapproval written all over her face. “I’ll give you both five minutes and then I want to see you two in the living room.” And with that she turned, giving the two of you some privacy again. 

“We can do a lot in five minutes lets-” Quickly you swatted at his shoulders and shoved him away, red all over your cheeks. 

“Five minutes my ass! Go, get to the living room!” Honestly, it wasn’t possible to do anything in five minutes with a normal person but with Adam, you were hoping a lot could be done in less. 

[bloomsburry-dhazel]

THESE FICS CAN BE FOUND HERE: LYANNA STARK'S HAREM SERIES

[salmonight]

First fic after a... Month? Yea probably that. Enjoy suckers!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48161014

[ramsywasalittlelamb]

I’m Not Here, This Isn’t Happening

Tim Drake-Centric, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a happy ending, littlest crumbs of age regression. 3.1k Words.

hello!! forefront and foremost, this is not a regression fic, nor is it a fic you should read while regressed!! I wrote this to get some things off my mind, my day-to-day experience is this entire fic, just projected onto timmy.

title from How to Disappear Completely - Radiohead

Massive TW/CW warning. This whole fic revolves around death and grief. intrusive and obsessive thoughts about death, descriptions of dying/death, and impulsive behavior on thoughts are in this. Please take caution reading, do not read if you think you may get triggered. There is no character death actually happening in this, just described/imagined in a negative lighting. Please do not hesitate to let me know if I need to add any more warnings.

The black ceiling he stares up into is seemingly staring back at him with a threatening look. At least, that’s what it feels like.

The thoughts and concerns swarm his head like a hive of angry hornets, stinging away every distraction he attempted. He tried counting sheep, thinking of the cases he’s been sitting on, even the recipes Bernard had texted him to try since he’d been too busy to actually taste his boyfriend's cooking.

But even through all of those, his mind kept going back to his family— more like the loss of family. And no, not his parents, though they do pop in quite often during late nights like these.

He remembers during his robin days, death hadn’t scared him because it didn’t seem permanent at the time— even though all the deaths that happened around him had affected him, it didn’t really hit him recently that his parents truly weren’t coming back.

Earlier in the day, he had woken up to someone brushing his hair back to wake him up, and his first thought was “Oh, Mom’s home.” Only to open his eyes and see Dick looking down at him with a smile, beginning to quietly talk about what Alfred had cooked and his plans for the day. Tim wasn’t listening though, a silent grief had struck through his chest at the remembrance that his mom wasn’t alive anymore.

Bruce had told him— No, everyone had told him that grief is weird. It will hit you when you least expect it, and all you can do is sit with your thoughts and try to cope. He had brushed it off, saying he’d be okay. Sure, he was sad about his parents, but.. now that Tim looks back to those words and emotions, he thinks he was in denial that they weren’t coming back.

Now Tim lays here, years later, inside his bedroom at Wayne Manor, staring at the empty ceiling with thoughts of his current loved ones dying in every scenario possible, because grief, trauma, and brains are lovely like that.

He can feel the tears streaming down his temples and into his hair, but he can’t find it in him to care. All he can focus on is the feeling of a loss that hasn’t happened. They’re not gone. Bruce is in the next room over, asleep in his way too big bed. Dick is probably awake, texting or on a video chat with one of his friends.

They’re breathing. They’re alive.

Why can’t he make his brain get that?

He sits up, a trembling hand over his chest that stutters with his quick breaths, grabbing a tissue to wipe off the tears, even though he knows full well they’ll be replaced in seconds.

They’re alive. He’s alive.

It really doesn’t feel like it though.

He can feel his heart beating wildly, the breaths he sucks in through his mouth, the blood rushing in his ears. Reminders that he’s awake and alive.

He doesn’t wanna die.

He’s terrified of it. He’s seen it happen in front of him countless times now, and everyone is right, it doesn’t get easier, but he feels alone. Nobody has talked about the constant fear of it when you’re not facing it up close. In the moment of near death, there isn’t much to think of besides get out. But afterwards, there’s so much time to think of the what if’s, so much silence to fill in the darkness of an empty room.

The song in his headphones switches over to another, a song Dick had shown him when he was robin, and suddenly he’s crying harder, his eyes shutting instinctively as they burn with tears. He can’t keep quiet anymore, but he doesn’t really care.

All he can think of is the day when everyone in his life is gone, dead, and there would be no way of them returning. Because as much as he hates to admit it, everyone does have to die someday, and we’re all not immortal.

All he can think of is when he admitted his fears to Dick on the rooftop one day when they both couldn’t sleep. The 4am delirium that makes you spill your guts and makes you regret it in the morning for even thinking about saying that, but then you realize you feel a little lighter for just saying the words out loud for someone who's crying by your side and just listening.

He still regrets it sometimes, saying those fears and worries out loud to someone who actually knows him. It was like revealing he had done something bad, like he wasn’t supposed to think or feel like that. Dick didn’t and still hasn’t brought it up, part of him hopes and believes that Dick was so tired and emotional that night that he had forgotten about what he said entirely.

But the other half hopes that Dick remembers, that he keeps it in his mind and just gets reminded how fragile Tim actually is, that Tim sometimes still feels like that kid who just went through two personal losses— three if he’s being parasocial.

He still feels like that kid.

He takes in a shuddering breath, shoving the headphones off and clutching the now damp tissue tighter in his hand as he stares at the tv that plays some person's gameplay of a Legend of Zelda game, another distraction that didn’t work.

His therapist said to reassure himself that everything is okay, that nothing is wrong and everyone is fine.

The reassurance he speaks to himself in his head doesn't do anything to combat the words his head produces, yelling at him to at least check one of them. Take a peek inside their bedroom, watch for a breath, maybe movement if he’s lucky, and once he has that reassurance that they’re alive, he can sleep peacefully.

He doesn’t even realize he’s opening a door until it’s too late, his thin blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Thankfully, his subconscious had some kind of mind to be quiet and slow with the creaky wooden doors, and he continues to open it, only realizing he went to Damian’s bedroom when he spots the kid on his bed, all the animals tucked around him like they were personal bodyguards.

He stills, watches Damian carefully with squinted eyes as if it’d help him see in the dark, focusing on the boy's chest. When it falls with a puff of air coming from his mouth, Tim releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He watches for a bit longer, just to be sure, he tells himself. The kid was a menace, specifically to him most of the time, but he loved Damian nonetheless. His brother is okay.

For extra caution he watches Titus, Ace and Alfred the cat, ensuring their breaths were even and good. The pets are okay.

He closes the door to Damian’s room gently so as to not make any noise, backing up slowly and missing the creaky floorboards with a silent sigh of relief. Damian is okay, the animals are okay, everyone is okay, which means he’s okay.

He.. thinks…

He’s supposed to feel better, no more racing thoughts that all these well trained and in good health people that could take care of themselves in a dangerous situation, are dead in their bedrooms, just rotting away.

They’re still there though. The thoughts about the youngest have quieted down, but the ones about the rest have gotten louder. Maybe he shouldn’t have listened to the thoughts nagging at him to check.

He debates for a moment before deciding to continue through with what his anxiety wants, he’s already awake and walking around, and he’s definitely not falling asleep anytime soon. He goes to the next room, Duke’s. Tim, zero. Anxiety, one.

He opens the door with the same stealth as before, looking inside through the small slit between the door and frame to see Duke and Cass sprawled out on his bed. Cass is mostly laying on top of him, an arm wrapped around his midsection in a hug while her head is tucked underneath his chin. Tim watches as they take breaths, careful to not disturb the two as he closes the door and steps away. He’s shocked he didn’t wake Cass up when he left his room, honestly.

He treks further down the hall, he hears light chatter and laughter coming from a room, looking towards the one that emits the noise only to see light coming from underneath the door. Dick’s room. He gives himself a gold star for getting his assumptions right on what his family would be doing at this hour.

Tim can hear him, see his shadow pacing back and forth as he talks to who Tim assumes is Wally judging by how Dick jokes and laughs so genuinely.

Tim stays there for a moment in the hallway, just outside of Dick’s door, listening to him laughing.

He stores that precious noise that he’d normally find obnoxious in his brain, in a safe and locked compartment titled his favorite sounds, praying to whoever or whatever is out there, that he never forgets it.

The tears that drip from his eyes and onto the floor brings him out of the trance of love and grief his brain entered, blinking himself back to reality and his mission.

He stops in front of the room that Stephanie usually stays in, questioning if she arrived earlier today— yesterday?— or if she comes over later. He can’t remember, but it doesn’t hurt to check.

He opens the door steadily to a Stephanie-free room.

That certainly didn’t help his anxiety.

He shakes it off, reminding himself Steph is probably not even at the manor right now and is most likely asleep in her own room. She’s okay. He’s okay. If he says it enough times it’ll be true.

He presses forward to Jason’s designated room, shifting his weight between his feet and fidgeting with the frayed edges of his blanket. Jason is a light sleeper, not that Tim can blame him, but trying to sneak a glimpse of the man while also trying not to disturb his sleep sounds like an impossible task.

Jason could be dying again, and if he dies, it’ll be your fault for not checking.

Tim tries to hurriedly open the door whilst being quiet, and though Jason shifts and snuffles a bit in his bed, the man doesn’t actually wake up. Tim mentally high fives himself while actually wiping away the tears that formed at the thought of Jason going through death again, never more happy to see someone shuffling in their bed.

He watches for a bit longer— or really, watching Jason’s bruised-up face go from an angry pout to neutral as his body relaxes. He hates to see Jason with bruises and injuries all over his body. He hates to see anyone with bruises and injuries all over their body. But Jason is breathing, so he’ll take it as a win.

He closes the door, taking a shaky breath and releasing it like Dick had taught him to calm himself down. Don’t let your emotions control you, you control them. He turns around and—

He lets out a small yelp as his eyes widen, slapping his hand over his mouth when he realizes it’s just Alfred.

Alfred raises his eyebrows with a bit of— not well hidden— shock at the sight of Tim, to which Tim realizes how disheveled he must look. He’s barely gotten any sleep, barely even left his room today, really. He knows the dark bags underneath his eyes must be worse than usual judging by how Alfred scans his face carefully. Not to mention the dried and continuously reoccurring tears on his face and eyes, his hair messy and sticking up and out whichever way it wants— Tim didn’t want to fight it today.

“Master Timothy, I apologize for startling you, but what are you doing up at this hour? Watching Master Jason, for that matter.” Alfred says quietly, moving the tray that rested in his hands to balancing it on one, taking Tim’s elbow and guiding him away from Jason’s door to have their conversation.

“I-“ He croaks out, his voice hoarse from god knows what. “I’m just having some trouble sleeping, no need to worry about me.” Tim manages to say, his words tremble and stutter more than he’d like to ever admit.

Alfred frowns at him, and Tim knows he’s been seen through. He wasn’t exactly lying, but he certainly wasn’t telling the whole truth. And nobody can successfully lie in this family, especially not to Alfred, if you even dare to. Plus, Alfred most definitely knows of this almost nightly routine that he does by now. Alfred doesn’t sleep on the second floor, his own bedroom below everyone else’s, and Tim is sure the footsteps and old floorboards making noises all the time doesn’t help very much in trying to get sleep when they’re always above you.

“Where do you plan on going next?” Alfred asks, his voice growing softer, nonjudgmental, as his hand travels from Tim’s arm to rub between his shoulder blades.

“Uhm..” He starts, only pausing to ponder the question— or how he should answer the question, he should say. He could be honest, make his final stop towards Bruce’s room, which is the most difficult one out of everyone, for a good reason he might add. Or he could lie (again) and say to the kitchen for a cup of water, or perhaps back to his bedroom, where he’ll cry himself to sleep and not tell anyone.

“Bruce.” He murmurs out, sniffling as he looks down to his feet, ashamed to admit the truth, especially when he knew that Alfred knew already.

“Alright. Let’s go check on him together, shall we?” Alfred replies calmly, holding out his elbow for Tim to take. Oh, so he does know. If he wasn’t so terrified right now, he’d think the offer of the butler’s arm is childish, but he feels like Alfred has some sort of safety net over his anxiety. If Alfred was around, everything would be okay. Bruce would be okay. Tim would be okay.

They reach the door, Alfred about to open the door for the two of them, but Tim pauses a few steps away from it.

What if Bruce is injured? What if he’s dead on his bed, and they just have to be the people to find him. What if he’s actively dying, gasping for a breath and bleeding out and—

He feels his hand get squeezed. He blinks and stares down blankly through the tears where Alfred’s hand holds his.

“It’s alright, my dear boy. Bruce is perfectly okay, I promise.” Alfred whispers, and Tim is glad he doesn’t smile to sugar coat the words. The confidence in his voice reassures Tim more than any words he’s said to himself tonight.

He nods, holding his breath as they enter.

He looks at the bed to see Bruce. His eyes watery and wide as he stares at Bruce’s chest.

It rises with an audible inhale.

Tim releases an audible exhale.

Alfred squeezes his hand again before releasing it and moving away to Bruce’s side, putting the pill capsules and a cup of room temperature water on his nightstand for when he wakes.

Tim tries to focus on Alfred, but his brain interrupts to keep watching Bruce, convincing him if he looks away Bruce will die. He’s certain of it.

“Master Tim, I’d suggest getting some rest now.” Alfred whispers as he walks to him and leaning closer to his ear as to not wake Bruce. Tim wants to nod, wants to leave the room and go to his own bed and just sleep for once this week without crying onto his pillows till he passes out from exhaustion.

But he can’t. He feels stuck in place as he watches Bruce with a hawk-eye gaze.

“I.. I don’t want him to die.” He murmurs, his eyes staying trained on one spot, eyebrows furrowing. “If I sleep, he— he dies, Alfred.”

Alfred pauses, a moment of silence between the two, the only noise being Bruce’s breaths and the old manor being its usually squeaky self.

“May I offer my word and promise that I will watch over him while you sleep?” Alfred says, attempting a compromise.

…

“Only if I’m allowed to sleep in here tonight.”

“I do believe that is not up for me to decide.”

Tim trusts Alfred— probably more than anyone else in his life,— but he hates making Alfred get this pressure of being perfect and solving problems all the time. Does the man ever get sleep? Does he ever allow himself sleep? Tim is just adding onto the burdens Alfred carry’s when he can just sit in here and watch Bruce him—

“Timothy. Please. Allow yourself rest, I will ensure his safety just as much as I do for all of you every night. If anything were to happen, I will alert you.” Alfred interrupts, brows furrowing with a frown as he stares at Tim.

Alfred’s expression changes to a smile when Tim’s teary eyes flick over and stay on Alfred’s eyes.

“There you are.” He says simply, taking Tim’s hand and elbow into his hands, guiding him over to the other side of Bruce’s bed, helping him onto it and making sure he’s adjusted and comfortable.

Bruce shuffles, making Tim pause. Once cleared to, he continues to snuggle his way into the sheets, his own being laid on top by Alfred. He flips onto his side, making sure he’s facing Bruce so he can watch, before remembering Alfred was going to sacrifice sleep so Tim could. So he thinks of a solution.

He’s hesitant, but then reasons with himself, he’s doing it for a purpose— his mental wellbeing, actually. Bruce should be proud. He scoots closer to Bruce so his head lays on his chest, allowing himself to make sure he’s still breathing. To make sure he’s still alive

“I’ll be right here the whole night.” Alfred reassures Tim before pressing a kiss to the boy's forehead, then Bruce’s for good measure..

He closes his dry eyes, head moving with the rise and fall of Bruce’s chest. He’s breathing. He’s alive.

Bruce is okay.

His brothers and sisters are okay.

His family is okay.

He’s okay.

[thebiggerbear]

DCU Fic Recs List

Rec list under Read More:

Guard Dog Vol.I by @mostly-imagines - aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend

Irish by @fazedlight (Supercorp)

Quiet Mornings by @heavysighing-dreamyeyes

*I will add more as I go

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[justrandomfanfictionskh]

We Should have Stayed in Gotham pt6

(Almost every Maribat fic I read has the akuma class going to Gotham. But tell me which is more likely, a class touring the city of crime, or a class touring the city of lights? So here it is, the Daminette fic that only I asked for, where Gotham goes to Paris, and the poor students have to grapple with the fact that they have competition for the most dangerous city in the world. I wonder what will happen?)

ao3 Beginning Previous

Ladybug set Damian down on the deck of a rather messy houseboat, and began assigning positions to her team. Damian could see the value of this location. It was an open area that was easy to quickly isolate and defend should the shore be over run, with many hiding spot and easy escape routes should the boat be taken, provided they all could swim of course. There was only one problem. “Should we tell the inhabitants to evacuate?” Damian asked as the heroes cleared the space for fighting.

“The family’s out,” Viperion said as he stashed some instruments. “We often use their boat for traps, because it’s so versatile.”

“Besides,” Ryuko said moving Damian into position on the far side of the open deck. “The Government gave us acquisition rights. If, during an akuma fight, Ladybug or any of the heroes require something from the citizens, then they are all obligated to follow her orders.”

Damian furrowed his brow as Ladybug swung away with Chat Noir to draw Princess Fragrance to them. “Isn’t that rather dangerous? I can see many ways that can be taken advantage of.”

“Maybe in Gotham,” Viperion said with a sly smile. “But Ladybug knows what she’s doing. Besides, once the Lucky Charm is thrown it’s best to just roll with it and don’t ask questions.”

“Speaking of,” Ryuko said pointing. And sure enough there was Ladybug and Chat Noir running over the rooftops. There was no sign of the zombies or the akuma, but Damian knew they weren’t far behind. The plan was for Ladybug to trick them into following her, not to drag them kicking and screaming.

“That didn’t take long,” Damian said as Ladybug landed.

“Didn’t think it would,” Ladybug said with a huff. “She's turned half of the arrondissement at this point. You sure you’re ok with this? You will be in direct danger. And if we fail to protect you—”

“You have not failed Paris yet,” Damian said simply as a matter of fact, “And I have seen the lists. You will not fall to an enemy this weak. I have faith in your abilities.”

“Oh my kwami,” Viperion muttered, “He really is like Ryuko.”

Ryuko elbowed the snake, but Ladybug ignored them studying him curiously, “Even the meagerest foot soldiers can fell the mightiest General, Spikes, for a blade is a blade and cares nothing for whose flesh it mars.”

Damian blinked in surprise, “That’s an Amazonian saying.”

Ladybug’s brow raised under her red mask. “It’s rare to find a male well versed in Amazonian proverbs.”

“I have had a very thorough education,” Damian said with his usual coldness. And before anyone else could comment a shrill voice rang out through the streets.

“Come out! Come out! My sweet Ice Prince! Don’t you want to thaw that frozen heart! Please! Come on out now!”

With a quick nod from Ladybug, Ryuko and Viperion vanished as she and Chat Noir took up positions in front of Damian as if they had just been cornered. Damian could easily see over Ladybug’s head, but in some ways, he wish he couldn’t. The small blonde ball of pink that had yelled at him in the classroom had transformed into something inhumane. Her skin was a monster green while her hair had turned into the color of chewed up bubblegum. Almost her entire body was covered in a black body suit that was puffed in places to give the illusion of a ballgown. Damian wanted to throw up. She looked like some maniac had smashed the Wicked Witch of the West and Cinderella together and tried to make it “modern.” It was so disturbing how wrongly demented she looked, that he had to say,

“Is part of Hawkmoth’s plan to burn the eyes of all of Paris, and thus ruin the fashion industry forever?”

Ladybug actually snorted as she tried to stifle her giggles, “You got an eye for design, Spikes?”

Damian shrugged, “I’m a Wayne, and my mother was very particular that I always knew how to dress appropriately for every occasion.” He left out the part where “dressing for the occasion” meant being able to go undercover in any environment and culture, but he seemed to get the point across, as Ladybug smiled and said,

“I can see how that would be useful. And for the record, when we do find Hawkmoth, I plan to strap into a chair and force him to watch fashion tutorials twenty-four seven.”

“It’s the least he deserves for forcing us to look at that,” Damian sneered.

“Hey!” Chat Noir said, “I can’t believe I’m the one saying this. But shouldn’t we be focusing?”

“Right!” Ladybug said, “Thanks Chaton, sorry. Now, Princess Fragrance!” She cried as she sped up her yoyo until it was a blur or pink and red light forming a solid circle.

The akuma saw them and Damian, and she cried, “My Prince! Get him!” Easily three hundred people filed out from behind cars and building and onto the street. They were all smiling like they were on Joker venom, as the sang in unison, “As you wish, Princess Fragrance!”

The zombies surged, but clearly unlike the zombies of a more undead nature, these had not lost any of their physical abilities. They rushed the boat in a swarm, spurred by their now instinctual desire to serve their Princess.

Viperion pulled the boat out onto the river, even as the first brainwashed victim reached the dock. That didn’t stop the swarm however, as most of the creatures leapt into the river and attempted to swim to the boat. Damian winced as a young man hit his head on the railing, but panicked as he fell backwards into the river. The training of his father, screamed at him to save him. To stop him from drowning, but Ladybug caught his wrist.

Damian looked up and saw the pain in her powerful blue eyes as she shook her head. Even as she stopped him, Damian saw the reality. Trying to save that person was pointless when the greater enemy was still baring down on them. Not to mention the fact that the cure would revive him once the battle was done. It was cold logic, assassin’s logic, that his family had been trying to coax out of him for six years. But this was a war, for the very fabric of reality.

Ladybug had never spared the public on the necessity of keeping the Miraculous away from Hawkmoth. In her very first press conference which Damian had watched three times, she had explained explicitly why no individual, no matter how good a motive, could ever be allowed to make a wish. Her speech during those first interviews had gotten the inter country on her side as no one wanted to see what a mad man willing to brainwash children wanted to alter reality for.

In the grand scheme of the fight, a single individual who would eventually be resurrected, was a price they had to pay. And as Damian withdrew his hand he could see, that it was a choice that Ladybug had had to make too many times in her tenure as a hero. He returned to his place, and waited for the akuma to eventually catch up with them. He didn’t have to wait long.

As they came up on a bridge, a figure of black and pink dropped onto the deck. She rose in the shadow, cackling as she raised a twisted black gun, and pointed it straight at Damian. “Time to feel the love, my Ice Prince!”

Damian was glad that they had chosen such a messy house boat, because he was easily able to flip behind a stack of boxes as Chat Noir nocked off the Princess’s aim. A puff of pink smoke dissipated into the river, and the akuma shrieked as she fought with the Cat. Damian peeked out when Ladybug called on her Luck Charm.

He could only stare in confusion and disbelief as a deflated balloon fell into her hands. “What are we going to do with that m’lady?” Chat Noir called out in a teasing voice, “Throw a party.”

“Keep her distracted Chat, I’ll—”

“Ryuko!” Viperion yelled as he came out of the cabin, “Zombies are incoming. Ladybug that goes on the perfume. Spikes, you’ll need this.”

Damian blinked as he caught the long thing that the Snake hero tossed him. He had no idea why Viperion was suddenly taking charge, there was virtually nothing about him on any of the websites. But the heroes jumped to obey him, as within ten seconds of him speaking they came out from under the bridge and twenty zombies landed on the deck.

“Get my Prince!” the akuma shrieked. And they charged. Damian looked down and saw that he had caught a shinai, a bamboo sword used in kudo. Who was the family that owned this boat, that they just had this lying around?

He didn’t have time to ponder as Ryuko drew her own sword and stood side by side with Damian creating a wall between the zombies and the other heroes. Damian only took the time to be momentarily impressed with Ryuko’s skill as they swung in tandem against the zombies. Knocking them down, and throwing them into the river. Unfortunately it didn’t matter how skilled or in-sync they were, because the zombies were so single minded, that they stood with broken bones and bleeding heads, trying to catch Damian and help their Princess, and all with those demented smiles on their faces.

Damian thought the smiles were the worst part, because they weren’t like Laughing Gas smiles. No, you could see the pain in the eyes of the Joker’s victims, even as their mouths were twisted. But these zombies didn’t show any pain. Even as Damian cracked one’s knee with a sickening snap, it looked at Damian as if he were the happiest creature alive, not even a flicker of pain. They lunged for him with the strength only the unhinged possessed, even as their leg twisted the wrong way underneath them.  

The only way to get rid of them was to throw them over board, which Viperion helped with even as he shouted out warnings. Damian didn’t dare look back to see how Ladybug and Chat Noir were doing, but the Cat’s unending chatter was beginning to grate on his nerves even as he tossed the last zombie overboard.

“No resting,” Ryuko called out, as she pointed to the second bridge coming close. Sure enough, another group of zombies were waiting to leap.

“Chat no!” Ladybug cried, and Damian spun to see Chat Noir get a face full of perfume as he pushed Ladybug out of the way. The perfume cloud dissipated, as the hero straightened and sang,

“At your servi—Mmph!” Viperion tackled Chat and wrestled him to the ground as Princess Fragrance swung her gun to Ladybug. Ladybug slid the balloon onto the end of the gun, right as she pulled the trigger. The balloon inflated into a impossible size, lifting the akuma into the sky.

“Ryuko!” Ladybug shouted. The dragon hero lunged with her sword and pierced the bottle shattering it. A black butterfly flew out as the akuma dropped back onto the deck. Ladybug caught it in her yoyo.

Damian sighed as the akuma was purified and the cure was released. He sat down on one of the many boxes as Viperion rolled off of Chat, and Ryuko went to comfort the small girl who was looking around dazed and confused. “Oh no!” she said, “I…I did it again! Oh Ladybug, I’m…I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to…I just…I just…”

“I know Rose,” Ladybug said gently kneeling beside the girl who was now crying into her hands. “I know.”

“I just want everyone to get along! And be nice!” she cried, “Why can’t we all just be friends?!”

“It’s not always that easy,” Ladybug said gently, as she rubbed the small girl’s back. “I wish it were. But it isn’t.”

“But what do I do!” Rose moaned staring up at Ladybug with pleading eyes.

“Find the people who are true,” Ladybug said gently, “And cling to them. They’re the only opinions that matter. Ryuko’s going to take you back to school now. Are you ok with that?”

Rose nodded, and the Dragon hero swept her up into her arms, like she was carrying a child and, with an inhumane leap, began carrying her back. Damian expected the same treatment since all of the other victims had been swept away by the magic ladybugs, when Chat Noir sauntered up and said with a cocky grin and a swishing tail, “Another successful mission m’lady! Pound it!” He held out his first in celebration. Ladybug scowled. Damian suddenly wanted to jump off the boat.

Damian had survived the Batglare. He had survived his mother’s stare, his grandfather’s sneer. He had only barely escaped Alfred’s frown. But nothing could have prepared him for Ladybug’s scowl. The unearthly power behind her eyes was fanned into a wildfire, as her lips curled into a growl. And Damian felt his skin curl as it did when Superman’s eyes turned red. She stared down her partner as she shoved a finger into his face. “How many times have I told you not to sacrifice yourself for me?”

“But m’lady!” Chat whimpered, his ears falling down in dejection, “You told me to take this more seriously.”  

“Yes!” Ladybug cried, “As in follow my lead! Anticipate my movements! Not jump in front of every bast and get yourself brainwashed or killed!”

“Wait!” Chat Noir cried, “This was not my fault, Viperion said we wouldn’t need Second Chance if we used the brat’s ‘improvise’ plan, and that was clearly a lie!”

“I said that” Viperion said crossing his arms, “Because during one of the other times, when I told the truth, you refused to do anything he suggested, and it got you killed.”

There was a deep silence as Damian processed exactly what Viperion's role was. And suddenly, Ladybug's perfect record made sense. Every hero had an off day, where they just couldn't make it in time. But Ladybug couldn't have one. She couldn't fail, because of the importance of the war. So she didn't let it happen. She didn't let her self fail by controlling time itself. It was terrifying both in it's necessity and its effectiveness.

“How many times?” Ladybug asked quietly.

“Three,” Viperion said simply, “We tried your plan once, but we just ended up switching to this one in the end. Thought we’d save time and lives by just jumping to the chase.”

“And the other two times?” Ladybug asked her expression as guarded and as cloudy as the Batman’s.

“Zombies over ran the boat. Second time they killed Chat then you. Third time, Chat Noir tried to save you, got spritzed, killed you.” Damian hissed, as Chat Noir shrunk in on himself like a child trying to hide from his parents.

“What changed?” Ladybug asked.

“Spikes found the sword,” Viperion said simply, pointing at Damian. The heroes turned to him as if just realizing he was still there. Damian looked down at the shinai, and sighed. He stood and said, “My name isn’t Spikes, it’s Damian, Damian Wayne. And I was trained in many forms of combat from a young age…I am sorry this happened, I did not mean to cause that akuma. I have been told that, I should be more…guarded with my tongue. I’m just glad I could help fix the damage I did.”

Ladybug nodded at him consideringly, “Thank you, Damian. You were a great help today. I’ll take you back to the shore. But I don’t think I’ll be able to take you back to the school, my time’s almost up.” As if to prove her point her earrings beeped, as one of the dots disappeared.

Damian nodded his understanding, as Chat Noir stepped forward fiddling with his tail. “M’lady,” he said desperately, “Please I am trying! You know I am. And I’ve gotten better, right? Please, Chat Noir is the only thing I have anymore.”

Damian watched neutrally from the side, as Ladybug’s face contorted into pity as she looked at her partner. He was taller than her, and by all appearances stronger to. But from the way he dipped his head and slumped his shoulders you would have thought he was a child being chided by his parents. And like a doting mother Ladybug sighed and said gently,

“Chaton, I’m not taking your miraculous. You’re my partner, and I trust you more than anyone. But you need to trust me! You need to follow my lead. Pay attention to the others, and work with the team, instead of just throwing yourself in the way of danger. Can you do that?”

“Of course, I can!” Chat insisted.

“Ok,” Ladybug said with a nod. “We’ll talk about this more tonight. Now go home, you’re about to transform.”

As the Black Cat bounded away, Ladybug seemed to slump in defeat as she watched him leave. Viperion stepped forward laying a hand on her shoulder. “He is a good hero,” he said, “Always has been.”

“I know,” Ladybug said in a whisper Damian could only barely just hear. “But he’s not a good cat.”

“Perhaps a different miraculous would suit him better?”

“Not until I have a replacement. Have you talked to Fluff?”

Viperion shook his head, “Young and Old are being very cryptic on the matter. But I think Young is just doing it to be annoying.”

“Figures,” Ladybug muttered, but there was a small smile on her lips. She then clapped and turned back to Damian who was pretending that he hadn’t been listening, by putting the bamboo sword away. “Alright Spikes let’s get you back to shore. Viperion, can you take the boat back to the docks? Excellent. Spikes, once I’m gone you should contact your partner, but don’t expect them to answer immediately. It’s the crying hour after all.”

“The what?” Damian asked. But he never got his answer, as Ladybug caught him up by the waist, and used the nearby bridge to swing them back to shore.

@spicemallow @night-ngale @annastasha @ev-cupcake @hammalammadamdam @laydeekrayzee @itsemmylie @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks  @doglover82 @raven-ette @atiredartistandacat @theamazingfox @griffinthing @toodaloo-kangaroo @depressed-bitchy-demon @stainedglassm @the-dumber-scaramouche @fangirlingfanatic

[hymn-of-muse]

Heartfelt Advice

A platonic Cassandra Cain + Barbara Gordon oneshot. A family talk.

A knock sounded from the doorway and Barbara set down the tea she made on the table, wheeling herself over to the door and opening it, giving the person in the doorway a soft smile as she moved back to let the other in.

Cass had her head hung low when the door opened, feeling ashamed and guilty for events earlier that night, almost like she'd prepared herself for a lecture.

"Come on in Cass. Do you want some tea?" Babs asked, soon closing the door behind the girl. "I just got a fresh box of chamomile yesterday." She offered.

"Um..sure" Cass agreed, taking a seat on Barbara's couch, hands tucked into the front pocket of her hoodie as she observed the red head move about her apartment. "Barbara...look, I know I shouldn't have-"

"Relax, Cass" Babs smiled over her shoulder with a soft time of voice to match. "I didn't ask you to come over after the op just to scold you, I can see you've already done that to yourself enough." 

"Then...why did you ask me to come over?" She gave a confused look as her eyes scanned over the other, Barbara carefully pouring water from a kettle into a cup on the counter.

"Because i wanted to talk with you about your behavior. I know how that sounds but it's alright, trust me." She carefully brought the tea over to the coffee table to which Cass took from her hands.

"I...I didn't mean to blow up like that, I know it's not a great excuse, I normally have myself under control and level headed but this time I just...I ruined the operation because of my outburst.." Cass gave a sigh of self-disappointment with her admission, staring into the cup of tea sadly

"Do you know why you had that outburst?" Babs asked softly as she hoisted herself into the couch next to Cass.

"No...well, yes. It's just" she paused to find her words. "Were supposed to work as a team and follow our plan, but Tim as so adamant about changing things and his reasoning made no sense to me." Cassandra explained with growing frustration.

"I really try to understand, I do. And it's not just Tim...I find it hard to understand a lot of the decisions and suggestions that come from everyone but they seem so rooted in emotional responses and...I struggle to..understand that. The whole emotional thing.." Cass' eyes stay on her reflection on the surface of the tea. 

"You struggle to connect with people on an emotional level, but you also struggle to understand emotions and cues from others in social situations. I'm guessing this frustration built up and that's why you snapped at Tim?" Barbara pointed out, leaning back on the couch with her eyes on Cass.

"...I'm not used to having to read by emotions, people's reactions to things are so different and it makes it hard to predict things. This whole.. emotional response to things in so many varieties makes people harder to read and I don't like it. Actions, physical details, I can read posture and gestures, all that is predictable..." She spoke softly, indirectly confirming Barbara's suspicions.

Babs took a moment as Cass took a sip from her tea before speaking up. "Have you considered bonding might make it easier? If you get to know your team members better, they might become easier to understand emotional wise." She offered.

There was a moment of silence before Cass broke it again, glancing up at Barbara with searching eyes. "What would I even do? I've said the wrong thing and upset people before, it seems about all I can do, I'm not even sure how Steph tolerates me some days.."

"You're putting too much thought into it Cass. You're too focused on details, and you're afraid of overstepping or losing people that you've shut yourself down and built new walls to keep yourself in. You need to let yourself take a step out of your shell and try talking. And I mean actually talking. Communicate your feelings and they'll communicate theirs too." Barbara placed a gentle hand on Cass' shoulder with a sweet smile.

"The further you box yourself up the more likely you are to snap at others again. Steph tolerates you because she cares, she's probably just waiting for you to open up so she can understand you better too." 

Cassandra's eyes drifted over Barbara's face before falling back onto the tea in her hands. "That...would make some sense.." she admitted as she gave it some thought. "If I talked about how..frustrated, not understanding some things made me feel, they would explain what I'm not understanding?"

"Exactly. You're not the burden you think you are, Cass, we all have trouble understanding something, and for you that's your emotional intelligence. There's no shame in that, you just need to learn to open up and communicate rather than bottling up and lashing out when it gets too much." 

Cass set down the cup on the coffee table and turned to Barbara. "Would...it be alright if I practiced on you?" She asked tentatively.

"Of course. Thats a great place to start." Babs nodded, motioning for her to go ahead and talk.

"I...I don't understand why you're so...gentle. as Batgirl and as oracle, both, you're fierce and determined, you always remained level headed, you seemed clear and focused and yet...whenever we talk you're always so...different. your voice is softer, your eyes are softer, you smile...youre just...gentle. I don't understand why you seem to have such a drastic change about you. I mean I know when you put on the mask youre braver, it's like that for all of us, but you're always brave mask or not, yet when you're just Barbara...you're...you're sweeter."

Babs held a warm smile as she listened to Cass list her observations and explain her confusion. "And you want to understand why I'm like that?"

"Yes. Why are you so..sweet?" 

"Cass, what you're noticing is fondness and care. I'm softer around you and others off duty because I know it's okay to be, and that's just how I am, especially around people I generally care about, like you. I'm not going around being a stone wall because that's not who I am" she chuckled

"And I know you need it." She added, tilting her head. "How was that?"

Cass let out a breath. "..that was...nice, actually. And...much easier than I thought." She admitted, shuffling a little closer to the woman.

Babs opened her arms and wrapped them around Cass, pulling her into a warm hug. "Good job, Cass. Thank you for talking with me, I'm proud of you." 

Cass felt herself smile as she leaned into Barbara's arms and returned the soft embrace. "...thanks babs."

this is in no way a ship fic please never tag it as such

reblogs are appreciated!

[janekburza]

Big Blue is coming to town

superbat + minor ships, DCU | rating: E | chapter 1/4 | 2.025 words

Bruce Wayne runs a saloon and a brothel in Sheriff Luthor's town. Few people know that Wayne is an accomplice of Luthor's greatest enemy - Big Blue and his gang.

read on ao3

[val-el]

Shattered

At the beginning of Batman and Robin, Dick was just a kid. He understood, but not fully. None of them could really understand fully, Tim thinks, but even then? Dick was just a kid and couldn’t help. Didn’t know how to help. Jason died before he was ever told, and Tim? Tim just figured it out — totally by accident, he swears — and proceeded to read every medical journal and study he could get his hands on in relation to D.I.D. Which, at some point, gave him the responsibility none of the other Robins had: make sure the system is doing okay. So he waves Dick off, readjusts his headphones, and says; “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

Batman gets hit with fear toxin. The affects on the system are disastrous.

Now available on AO3. Read here.