#Nightwing is both the problem and the solution

[outtamynoggin]

It's crazy what he gets away with (and who the ones letting him get away with it are)

Bruce: What Nightwing did might have been... unconventional, but it worked.

Tim: Exactly. I mean, sure, the plan might have involved hacking into Gotham’s power grid, a few strategic distractions, and, uh, some minor illegal surveillance-

Barbara: MINOR? DISTRUBANCES??

Tim: Okay, fine! The plan also had a teensy bit of hacking into the stock market, manipulating a few politicians, and borrowing a couple confidential documents, but nobody was harmed!

Bruce: ...In the strictest sense.

Tim: Yes! See, it's a win-win solution!

Barbara: *furious* You two are insane. You’re treating morally ambiguous like it’s a fun new hobby. He practically engineered an escape from a high-security prison by tricking the entire staff into thinking it was game night. In addition, he orchestrated a city-wide blackout just to steal classified documents, and you’re calling it genius?

Bruce: Very resourceful.

Tim: I mean... it’s not his fault they didn’t know how to play Dungeons & Dragons. Also, I want to see who else could pull off a high-profile heist while simultaneously launching a PR campaign for a new tech startup!

Bruce: *to Tim* Wayne Enterprise's tech gadgets cleared the shelves, we need to speed up production.

Tim: Already on it.

Barbara: You’re defending this? That’s not genius, that’s a psychotic breakdown wrapped in a cape! It's madness layered up in a three-piece suit!

Bruce and Tim: It’s Dick.

Barbara: I swear, if it was anyone else, you’d be throwing them in a cell for years.

Bruce and Tim: It’s Nightwing. He has plausible deniability.

Barbara: Plausible? I think he has a whole separate universe of deniability!

[thesulkycroissant]

So there's this saying that the only time you see the middle of the road is when you're going from ditch to ditch, and that most of the time is how I feel about the canon v fanon debate.

Genuinely, I feel like people get so stagnanted in this idea that something isn't canon - which, what is comic canon anyway? I strain to unravel the mystery of which comics get to "count" and which do not - and focus on it so much that they miss any aspect of nuance.

Tim's parents are a great example. Tim's parents exist in the way they do for a simple out-of-universe reason: the writers wanted to avoid the mistakes they made with Jason by both differentiating him from Dick (making him not an orphan) and giving him a "buy-in" with Dick (something to connect them -> the circus). (Their logic was that Dick was the key to getting readers to like Tim, and that neglecting his buy-in was their misstep with Jason.) At the same time, Tim having parents is a problem because what parent is not going to notice their kid being gone all the time playing midnight vigilante? Solution: absentee parents. But now the shift to in-universe happens. Tim's parents are gone all the time, but it's not malicious; they're just kind of clueless. They love Tim. Tim loves them. But they are not around. And this out-of-universe choice, once you enter into the universe, logically can - maybe even should, if you're taking the characters seriously - effect how a character reads.

Tim's parents are gone all the time. There's every probability that would cause trauma. Unintentional, but fun to explore! The comics do a very little. I think fandoms can often make the mistake of believing subtle abuse (like neglect) is not sufficient, so it gets elevated to something physical. But your parents loving you and also causing you trauma is a relatable experience, I think. Even your parents doing their best and still causing you trauma is.

Jason being the angry Robin is another rough one. Because yeah, I agree, Scott Lobdell did some wacky and unkind things to Jason's backstory. But Jason, even going back to his original (not original, but his original non-just-Dick-but-blond) backstory, is a traumatized orphan willing to take the risk and steal tires from the Batmobile as a means of survival (in Gotham! In Crime Alley!). Why can't Jason be angry? In the throes of adolescence, at a time when he feels safe with Bruce, doesn't it make sense for his trauma to find its way out in anger? Can't he both believe Robin is magic and be angry? Can't he be sweet and angry both?

Dickie and anger. Yeah, anger plays a role in certain story arcs of his. In NTT, and in the first 80s Nightwing run, the stories take pains to show that the anger is triggered by something and channeled into brutal focus. And that it does not serve him. Dick's relationship with Kory in NTT nearly falls apart because of his anger. He treats her very poorly. I see a lot of people saying they want Dick to be angry, but not allowing Dick to learn how to control his anger is not giving the character his dues either.

And Damian. Shoot. Reading the One Bad Day comic for Ra's al Ghul kinda ruined me a bit because of how much Ra's obviously loves and respects animals, and how can you not see the echo of that in Damian's love of animals? Damian's League trauma is such a thing worth exploring, and I think the value of exploring it only goes up when you add in the complicated factor of the fact that Talia and Ra's do love him, and he does see them when he looks in the mirror, and every day Damian has to decide which parts of his family - his whole family - are good to keep and which are not.

Anyway. There's probably more, but this post is already pretty long lol. Nuance is cool, that's all.

[avayarising]

Dick in the Murder Machine

(Part of the Batfam Death Project)

Forever Evil 6–7, 2014

In Forever Evil, the main universe was invaded by the Crime Syndicate: Earth-3 villains who are counterparts of Earth-0 heroes. They captured Nightwing and exposed his identity as Dick Grayson on live TV, then kept him captive at the behest of Owlman (Earth-3 Thomas Wayne Jr, in his universe the elder brother of a dead Bruce Wayne), who seemed to be feeling parental/avuncular urges, although The Outsider (Earth-3 Alfred) kept reminding him that Dick was not his own Richard.

Grid, Cyborg’s Earth-3 counterpart, put Dick in an inescapable ‘murder machine’ with a bomb connected to his heart, such that it would only be disabled if Dick’s heart stopped. Grid apparently built the machine from Apokoliptian blueprints he found in S.T.A.R. Labs.

You’d think that this whole arrangement was a trolley problem aimed specifically at Batman, but in fact it seems to have been an actual accident. It looks like Grid intended only to hold Dick securely: Grid didn’t much care if Dick died, but he was following Owlman’s instructions to keep him alive along with Ultraman’s (evil Superman’s) instructions to keep him secure. But when Batman and allies (including Catwoman, Bizarro, and Lex Luthor) invaded in search of Dick, a failsafe was triggered on the device and the bomb started counting down on a five-minute timer.

The only way to disarm the bomb was to kill Dick.

And you’d expect Bruce to come up with the temporary death plan. But Dick’s death is apparently something Bruce can’t handle, and he just kept trying to unplug him. No planning, no solution, just desperation. Being Apokoliptian technology it was semi-sentient and kept working around his attempts.

So Lex Luthor attacked Bruce, with Bizarro holding Bruce off for long enough for Lex to force Dick to swallow a pill to stop his heart. Which, pills and the digestive system being what they are, shouldn’t have worked or at least not worked that quickly, but comics I guess.

(I think Dick could have held the pill under his tongue instead of swallowing it if he’d wanted to, so it’s possible that Dick deliberately swallowed the pill. But his eyes here show pure panic, not acceptance of death.)

Bruce of course attacks Lex and starts beating him up, threatening to kill him, till Lex says he can bring Dick back, whereupon Bruce allows Lex to proceed:

And it works, and Dick is brought back to life, and the bomb doesn’t go off. Good thing Lex Luthor routinely carries around both cardioplegia pills and adrenaline shots!

(Does he often need to temporarily kill people?)

Bonus: here’s Dick making light of his trauma:

Batfam Death Project Masterpost

[gffa]

There are better points of connection/references to point out for Batman #138, ones that are far more likely to be deliberate, but I had just read Detective Comics #1000 a couple of days before this issue came out and couldn't help thinking about one giving context to the other. That Bruce thinks he never should have let anyone follow him into this life, that he feels betrayed by all of them, but a special point is made that the oath Dick swore to him as a kid, to uphold righteousness, feels like it's been shattered. That Bruce feels like he should never have listened to Dick's argument about following him into this life--that the cat was already out of the bag, the moment that Bruce himself put on a costume, someone was going to follow him into this life, he couldn't stop it, it had already happened. And Bruce looks back on that and thinks that he shouldn't have allowed that argument to sway him. But he's forgetting what he and Alfred talked about leading up to that moment, why Alfred argued that Dick's inclusion was a good thing:

"You know how highly I think of you and your abilities. But he could make you better. He could be better. A hero forged in the light." The Detective Comics story isn't just speculation, it takes place when Dick is a kid, but we see a flashforward of Nightwing--it's a confirmation that Alfred's right, Dick is better than Bruce. Dick isn't the one that lost sight of what's important, Dick isn't the one who betrayed their vow--Bruce is. Bruce is the one who betrayed them all, that's why Dick isn't just a brighter version of Batman as a person, it's why we twice see him here as physically a better fighter. He's the better version of what Batman was meant to be. It's hardly a new truth about Bruce and Dick's relationship, it's been around before--Nightwing is the better version of Batman, the one forged in light, the one who brings hope. The one who leads through not just being a brilliant detective and battle strategist and world class fighter, but because people trust him and know he's worthy of that trust. Dick mirrors Bruce's origin story the most out of all the characters, his parents killed in front of him when he was under the age of 10, the anger that lives in his heart is one that burns for justice for people. Dick is the clearer version of Batman:

So, when their morals crash into each other here, Bruce can't see that Dick isn't the one betraying him (Dick doesn't even really seem to believe that much in Selina's plan so much as he knows they need the peace--however temporary it might be--her plan brings, because Dick tells her that this whole thing is stupid too, just as much as he's ready to tell that to Bruce), Bruce has forgotten that Dick is the clearer version of himself and that he is the one slipping down a bad path. That's why twice in this storyline, Batman underestimates him as a fighter and gets knocked on his ass for it. He can't see it because Zur-En-Arrh is leaking into him to the point that it's not really Bruce or Zur-En-Arrh, it's both of them, and he's so desperate to hold onto Batman to have a reason to hold himself together, he can't see that Dick is the one who should be making the judgement calls here, not himself. He's trying to force himself to stop loving his family, like he can't even see that that's the entire opposite of why he started doing any of this in the first place. It's not just crime that's the problem, it's the suffering people face because of that crime that he never wants to happen to anyone again. Selina's plan is already falling part, he's right that it's not the long term solution she wants to present it as, but in focusing on that, he's lost site of the actual point of what drove both of them to the vow--to make the world a better place. To fight crime so that others won't suffer.

A central theme of Dick Grayson's character--including Bruce's own view of him--is that he makes the world better just by being in it. Bruce thinks that, by forcing Jason into a state of terror so strong that he can't fight, it will force him out of the life of crime, but he's forgetting that the point isn't just that Jason doesn't do crime anymore, it's that he's not making the world a better place by doing something so monstrous. Jason isn't better off this way. Jason is already no longer murdering people and doing this to him won't help those he killed in the past. Nobody is better off this way. I get why, in Bruce's war zone of a brain, he genuinely thinks this is being kind, he cares about Jason and the only way he can see to save Jason from jail, is to force him onto this path. But he can't see that this doesn't actually help anyone, it doesn't make the world a better place. Keeping Dick or Jason or Tim or Damian from this life wouldn't have made their lives better, even if Bruce could have stopped them. (He couldn't have.) The whole reason he couldn't out-argue Dick even at 9 years old was because Dick was helping to make the world better. Jason and Tim and Damian are all fighting to help make the world better. Knight Terrors was the storyline just before this one and it had a moment where Bruce breaks free of Insomnia's nightmare by hugging his child self and telling him about all the people that were going to find him in the dark--his friends, his children, his loved ones. They made him a better man.

That's it, that's the story--when Bruce stops trusting his children, when he stops letting them influence him, when he stops letting his love for his family drive him, he loses everything, including his own grip on himself. Because the whole point of having them around was that they made him better, that some of them were directly meant to be a clearer reflection of his whole entire purpose, and the moment he stopped trusting them, the moment he realized Dick--the one he trusted with full access to the Batbox! the one he trained to be the best he could be, to be the one to stop Bruce, if he went over the line--was going against him, that's the moment everything broke.

[starwarsmum]

Maribat Christmas Bingo!

I did not have the energy for multiple fics for the different prompts, so welcome to my monster fic that has all 25 ❤️ enjoy!

Marinette was exhausted as she zipped her way through the crowded streets of Paris. There had been twelve akumas in the past six days, and she was pretty sure it wasn't going to stop. Between Neigester, - the akuma that turned people into frozen statues, perfectly sculpted in ice - Jingle Bull, - an akuma that spawned because he accidentally sent a shelf of snow globes crashing to the floor in a busy store - and ones she couldn't even remember, Marinette was completely wiped out.

After the first two days of nonstop Akumas, she had called the Justice League and begged for help. Wonder Woman had been sympathetic, promising that as soon as their non-powered cohort were available they would be sent to Paris to assist. 

But it had been four days and things were starting to feel like they were heading straight to a breaking point. And now, akuma number 12 was a freaking monstrosity of tinsel and twinkling lights. It called itself Christmas Choke and was rather gruesomely hanging people up by the throat in Christmas lights.

“Hey Bug, looks like we've got a serious case of Christmas grump over here,” Chat said, bouncing over to her. He looked every bit as exhausted as she did, his ears and tail drooping. “Don't suppose we have an update on any assistance from the JL yet?”

“Nothing,” she sighed in reply, staring at the Akuma as if she could end it just by willing it enough. When the solution didn't miraculously happen by itself, she sighed again and launched herself forward to engage with the akuma. 

After ten minutes of no progress, she fell back to where Chat was trying to free civilians and almost face planted when a shadow near to him stepped forward. She managed to muffle the shriek that wanted to leave her mouth but it meant that she almost but her tongue in half.

“Sorry we're late,” the man said, a cowl covering most of his features. “Wonder Woman asked us to come and assist you with your Akuma problem. I'm Batman.”

“Wait, like Gotham’s Batman?” Chat said, perking up a little. “Dude, that's so cool! Did you bring Robin with you? Ooh, or Nightwing,” he added dreamily, eyes unfocusing as he clearly daydreamed about the original boy wonder. 

“Tt, you are supposed to be a hero defending a city, will you focus on the problem at hand?” Another shadow said, and Marinette had to school her expression to avoid giving away her disgust at the guy’s outfit. This, with the red, green, and yellow, had to be Robin. He had a sword attached to his hip and a domino mask that did nothing to hide his scowl. 

“Listen, Hawkmoth preys on negative emotion,” she tried to explain, shooting Chat a look that said ‘shut the hell up’. “Chat's way of handling his feelings is by being a giant goofball. It's not super healthy but it's also working so we're not going to try to change it now. It's a pleasure to meet you both, but we should work on trying to stop Christmas Choke before it gets any worse.”

The dynamic duo agreed and pretty soon they were assisting with the aftercare of a traumatised shopper. Marinette rubbed the man's back consolingly, hoping to finish soon so she could go back home - after speaking with Batman and Robin about next steps.

“Everyone was just so loud, and then that godforsaken song - that has been playing since September - came on and I just lost it,” the man sobbed, clinging to his shopping bags. “My kid just changed his mind about what he wanted for Christmas and my husband insisted we had to get it right, because it's his first Christmas with us and not in foster care! And if it's not wrapped and under the tree tonight, I'm a dead man.”

“I understand, and you're not the first person to be taken advantage of by Farfalla,” Marinette said in a soothing voice. “But hey, take a deep breath and Chat over here is going to take you straight back to your place in line. He's going to stay with you until you get what you need and then he'll see you home. Right, Kitty?”

“Absolutely! Hey, did you hear what the snowman ordered at the Mexican restaurant?” Chat asked the man as they walked over to the queue of people reforming around them. 

“Okay, so we obviously need to head somewhere quieter to have a chat, care to join me on top of Notre Dame?” Marinette said wearily, pulling her yo-yo back out. She waited for them to agree before giving them a quick grin and ‘race ya!’ before zipping away.

_ _ _

The explanation and discussion for next steps took longer than Marinette would have liked. Batman had had plenty of questions - all very well thought out, and he was obviously taking it seriously - and Robin had been staring at her the entire time without saying a word. It made her twitchy and she was relieved when she was finally swinging back home.

She landed on the balcony and crept back into her room, cursing her lack of time. She was still stitching her name into the piece that Alya had commissioned from her and she needed to get it to her by that evening. Not to mention-

“The cookies!” Marinette screeched, throwing herself down the stairs to the apartment kitchen and almost sobbing when she saw the lumps of charcoal sitting on the oven trays. Two full trays of cookies, useless, and she still had to decorate and wrap them before nighttime.

Rolling up her sleeves, she got to work on a new batch. She had several problems, likely caused by her tiredness and the distraction of still having half a dozen things to do, and she wasn't sure how she was going to explain how her apron had gotten caught up in the mixing bowl.

While the cookies were baking, she raced back upstairs to get the Alya's commission and stitched the initials whilst keeping an eye on the cookies. She then whipped up the royal icing while the cookies cooled and prepared the piping bag. And after all of that, she found time to search for information on Batman and his band of vigilantes.

_ _ _

By early evening, Marinette finally felt like she was on top of things again. Nothing quite like the rush of a deadline to make her buckle down and get things done. Checking the time, she cursed again and grabbed up a bag to put everything into before racing to meet her friends for their Christmas eve plans.

Spotting her usual group, Marinette raced over to them and apologised for her tardiness. That was met with fairly goodnatured ribbing and she blushed even as she scowled at them all. Adrien smiled over at her and she gave a tentative one back. It had been about half a year since they had ended their relationship and it was finally starting to feel like they could be friends again.

Cerise was holding onto his arm and Marinette pushed down a wave of jealousy that she had no right to anymore. Cerise had been one of the reasons for their breakup, Adrien claiming that he had a lot in common with the blonde and that he felt like Marinette didn't have enough time for their relationship. Even though he wasn't wrong, it still ached that her superheroine work had caused another break up.

Once she had distributed her own gifts and any commissions, everyone headed for Phillipe’s skating rink. It was fairly busy, people bumping into each other and small children buzzing past everyone, fast enough that people were fighting to stay upright when they skated by.

Being shorter than most of her friends, Marinette quickly found herself separated from the group and battling to get through the crowds with her skates on. Even with the ice, and general chill of December, the heat of numerous bodies made her feel a little like she was suffocating. 

She finally burst through a group of people and slipped along the ice precariously. Her fall was arrested by a tall boy, wearing an entire outfit in black with dark hair. She froze, looking up at him with wide eyes and tried to stutter out an apology.

“I- you- that's- sorry,” she blurted at last, steadying her feet under her. The boy had his hands on her elbows, keeping her surprisingly steady as she tried not to blush too much. 

“It's fine,” he muttered, a frown marring his otherwise gorgeous features. Not that the scowl made him unattractive but she had a strong urge to see a smile on his face instead. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah, just madly clumsy,” she said with a pained smile. “It's, um, busy, and my friends got lost in the crowd. Or, I guess, they lost me in the crowd. But lucky me, you stopped me from wiping out on the ice, so thank you.”

The boy gave a slight smirk at her rambling and, oh no he was cute when he smirked. He didn't let go of her elbows and she felt the heat across her face flood her neck and chest too. She realised that she had been staring at his mouth for far too long and snapped her eyes to his and- oh, they were a vibrant green that sent butterflies skittering around her stomach.

Before she could say anything else a tiny comet- uh, small child rammed into the boys legs with a thump. The little girl also had dark hair and green eyes, though she had a different shape to her face. The girl was chattering at a mile a minute making it hard for Marinette to work out everything she was saying, but she gathered it was about hot chocolate from the words ‘whipped cream’, ‘marshmallows’ and ‘mug’. 

“Mar’i, you shouldn't run off like that!” A man shouted, skating up to the three of them. He was carrying a mug with a generous topping of cream and chocolate dusting. “Thanks for catching her, Dames. Oh, hi!”

“Hello,” Marinette squeaked back, glad that she had her feet under her when the boy let go of her. “I'm Marinette.”

“Nice to meet you! I'm Dick, that's my brother Damian and this little terror is my daughter Mar'i,” the man said cheerfully. Marinette mouthed the name ‘Damian’, before flushing because, God, that was embarrassing. 

“I'll let you get back to your family time,” she said at last, glancing up at Damian. Her heart jumped when she found him studying her, his eyes deep and pensive. She was ready to turn around and find her friends when someone crashed into Damian from behind. She put her hands out to steady him, and she could tell she had surprised him when she succeeded.

“Demon Spawn, better pucker up,” a man that was drenched in chaotic magic crowed. He had a white streak in his hair and he was massive. He was also holding a plant with tiny white bulbs and delicate leaves. Dick exclaimed something that sounded like an admonishment but Marinette couldn't hear it properly over the rushing in her ears.

Her heart completely stopped when Damian brushed a kiss to her cheek before he pulled back quickly. His cheeks were dusted lightly with red but it was barely noticeable next to her own flaming face.

“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Todd - the idiot with the mistletoe - is unbearable when you don't play along with his idiocy. I have been asked to avoid causing arguments whilst in Paris so…”

“It's fine,” she blurted, pressing her cold fingers to her cheeks in an attempt to cool them. “I just wasn't expecting someone as hot as you to do that. I'm sorry he made you kiss me, I'm sure you have better options-”

“Tt, I have no complaints about his choice,” Damian said with a smirk. Crumbs, if he kept smirking at her she was going to lose her sleep deprived mind and give him a real kiss. Actually, that didn't seem like an awful idea…Damian was flirting with her, right? She couldn't be reading it wrong, because his brother was making kissy faces and ‘ooh’ing.

“Well, in the interest of avoiding any potential fights, you should probably do the tradition properly,” she said. Before she could overthink it and talk herself out of it, she grabbed his scarf and pulled him down for a kiss. It was soft and sweet, a brief touch of lips and nothing more, but she still blushed brightly before letting go and stuttering a goodbye.

_ _ _

By the time she found her friends again, they were standing around a pretty display, lights spelling Happy Holidays with a star of David, Christmas tree, and seven candles depicted. People were mostly paired up in their couples, Nino with an arm around Alya's shoulders, Rose and Juleka holding hands, Myléne sitting in Ivan's lap on a nearby bench…and Cerise was hugging Adrien, him smiling down at her. 

Marinette shoved the ache away immediately, skating over to Alix, Max and Nathaniel. They greeted her enthusiastically and she let them take her mind off of boys for a few minutes. They were talking about the fireworks that were due to start any minute, arguing over whether there would be any more Akumas before Christmas day.

When the fireworks began, Marinette ruthlessly cut off any thoughts about missing watching them with Adrien. It didn't matter that last year she had had someone to hold her close - things had gotten so much harder in the past year, Farfalla had been ruthless and being the guardian had meant that she had to put aside a lot of her own projects and hopes.

When the display ended she deliberately avoided looking towards Adrien, turning blindly towards the exit. It had been nice to flirt with Damian, it had made her feel wanted. But it wasn't as if she would ever see him again, so she tried not to let herself fantasize too much.

_ _ _

Whilst they'd been skating it had started snowing. Marinette walked along the street, rubbing her hands together and wishing she had brought along her mittens. She walked past people having snowball fights, giggling as they walked by, and even one couple who were just finishing a pair of snow angels. 

She was halfway home when she crashed into someone again. Apologising profusely, she glanced up at them only to freeze again. Looking down at her was Damian, his scowl melting away as he realised it was her.

“I would say we should stop running into each other like this, but I cannot say that I mind it,” he said, brushing some hair out of her face. “I'm glad I encountered you again, I was worried you had vanished into thin air.”

“You wanted to see me again?” Her voice came out in a squeak, eyes wide. He chuckled and nodded, keeping his eyes on hers. Her heart melted a little and she leaned into his warmth. “I wanted to see you again too.”

“May I walk you to your destination?” He asked, offering his arm for her to take. She did, without hesitation, and felt his heat immediately leech into her frozen fingertips. “I also wished to thank you for silencing my brothers. It is not common for them to be rendered speechless, and it was sufficient to silence them for the duration of the fireworks.”

“Hey, anytime you want someone to kiss you, I'll happily be your girl,” she joked, flushing when he raised an eyebrow at her. “I mean, obviously you don't have to- I just meant that I enjoyed- I really need to work on keeping my mouth shut.”

“I don't know, I rather like you when you are flustered,” he said slyly, pressing a kiss to the tips of her fingers. 

“That's a pretty easy win, I am very easily flustered,” she grumbled, though a smile worked its way over her face when a laugh rumbled out of him. They were quickly approaching the bakery now, and Marinette was trying to think of ways to prolong their walk. 

“I don't suppose you would be willing to give me your number,” he said as she slowed to a stop outside the bakery. Beaming, she stuttered out her contact details and he input them to his own phone swiftly. “I must go back to my family now, but I hope I will see you again soon.”

Joy bubbled up in her chest as she waved goodbye which only intensified when her phone buzzed a few moments later with a message from an unknown number.

_ _ _

It was much later at night that Marinette slipped out of her room and into the silent night. She made a straight line to the Eiffel Tower, hoping nobody would spot her. She didn't need to be stopped for a conversation when she needed to meet with the Bats. 

She arrived after them and waved as she landed next to Robin. This was supposed to be a chance for her to meet the rest of the team of vigilantes and find out how they could work together to stop Farfalla. There appeared to be light hearted bickering between the tallest vigilante who was wearing a red helmet and Robin.

“Come on, it's just a bit of holiday fun,” Red Hood said, brandishing a piece of mistletoe. He held it over Robin's head, angling it towards Marinette and she froze. What were the chances that she would be caught under mistletoe twice in one day?

“It is not just a bit of holiday fun,” Robin hissed, scowling at him with blood darkening his cheeks. “It was amusing the first time, don't test your luck.”

“I'm going to have to ask you both to stop arguing or leave Paris,” Marinette said bluntly. “The night is a common time for Farfalla to strike and I don't want to have to fight one of you.”

“Man, I thought kissing the cute girl earlier would've loosened you up,” Hood said grumpily. “I know she ran off but that wasn't my fault.”

“Tt, I have already secured a connection with her,” Robin said tightly, glaring at Red Hood. “I ran into her whilst walking and procured her contact details before returning, only to be subjected to that monstrosity of a drink you call eggnog.”

Marinette froze, analysing the group in front of her. Robin, standing next to her, had the same dark hair and skin as Damian. Red Hood was the same height as Todd and was brandishing mistletoe. Nightwing was wearing a cheery expression, a brightness that reminded her of Damian’s brother, Dick.

“Oh no,” she whispered, cupping a hand over her mouth. She was too tired for this. She was supposed to be figuring out Farfalla’s secret identity, not the Batfamily’s. “Please tell me you aren't talking about an encounter with a girl called Marinette.”

Silence spread over the rooftop and she groaned, squatting down and gripping her hair tightly with both hands. Apparently the chances of running into a man brandishing mistletoe twice in one day greatly increased when they were the same man.

“Do you not know the importance of not sharing personal information?” She hissed, glaring up at Red Hood. She couldn't see his face but she hoped that he was feeling contrite. “I have gone three years without finding out my partner's identity, nor revealing my own to him. And after not even ten minutes of your company this evening I have discovered yours, Robin's and Nightwing’s.

“Granted, there is magic at work concealing Chat's and my identities but I did not want to know who you were!” She stood and muttered to herself, trying to think of ways they could work around this. 

“I take it you know Marinette,” Nightwing said weakly, glancing at Robin apologetically.

“Well enough to recognise your story,” she conceded. She pointed a finger at Red Hood and glared again. “You are most definitely on my naughty list, Monsieur. You shall be lucky if I don't smack you around your stupid, atrocious helmet.”

“We're sorry,” Red Hood said at last, glancing towards Robin when he snorted. “Fine, I'm sorry. Clearly I got careless and I'm sorry I blew our cover.”

“It is what it is,” she said heavily, devastated by the realisation that she wouldn't be able to go on a date with Damian now. Not only would she potentially blow her cover but it would never work if he had to go back to Gotham. “I just have to ask that you leave Marinette alone. Text her to tell her you went home or something, but as she doesn't know too much about you yet there's a good chance of you not making things worse.”

“Wouldn't she just Google us?” Nightwing said curiously and Marinette nearly screamed. 

“It is difficult to search for someone with such a common first name and no surname,” she said through gritted teeth. “She likely assumed Robin was from Paris and she would have had the chance to pursue a relationship, but evidently that was wrong. If you are vague enough in your message she will likely accept it and move on.”

The rest of the meeting was awkward and Marinette left after giving them as much information as she could about Farfalla. It wasn't much but they gave her a few things to think about regarding Hawkmoth and any potential connection to Farfalla.

_ _ _

On Christmas morning, Marinette bounded down from her room to sit with her parents for a quick breakfast followed by present opening. She waited excitedly for her parents to open their gifts, pleased at the excited shouts her Papa made when he opened the new apron she had made him and the pleased cooing her Maman made when she opened the new cheongsam she had made her.

Marinette gave her own squeal when she opened a parcel filled with various fabrics and threads. She adored how well her parents knew her and her creative pursuits. She had a few other gifts from friends, her Nonna and Grandpa Rolland, which left her feeling incredibly loved.

The day passed in relative peace, not even an akuma appearing. The threat was enough to keep Marinette on her toes but she was relieved when the day ended and she finally got a full night's sleep.

Boxing day she awoke early and joined her parents in setting up shop for the post Christmas and Hanukkah rush. She was in charge of decorating the dreidel and menorah sugar cookies, alongside ones that looked like bursting fireworks. 

When the bakery opened she was rushed off her feet, bagging baked goods and wishing everyone happy holidays. She hardly took a breather until after the lunch crowd dispersed and there were only a handful of items still ready. She knew her Papa was already baking fresh for the afternoon rush so she took some time to straighten the front area.

She didn't fully look up when the bell above the door dinged, signalling a new customer, but called out cheerfully that she would be with them momentarily. She turned to greet whoever it was properly and felt her smile freeze on her face.

“Good afternoon,” Damian said, eyes sweeping her face. He paused when he was done, as though he could tell she was unsure. But that was ridiculous, they had only really spent twenty minutes together so she gave herself a mental shake.

“I'm surprised to see you here,” she admitted, trying to remind herself that she needed to cut the budding feelings she was growing at the root. “When you didn't message again I assumed you changed your mind.”

“I have been a little preoccupied with family matters,” he said hesitantly. “But I have been thinking of you a lot.”

“I heard you're only in Paris on holiday,” she ventured, hoping it would prompt him to end things, assuming that was why he was there. “I don't want to be a fling, Damian. I can't risk getting to know you if I'm just going to end up missing you.”

“It doesn't have to end just because I go home,” he offered in a quiet voice, stepping closer to her. She stayed where she was as he approached, heart trying to beat out of her chest. His hand had just brushed her bangs from her face when the door behind him opened again, letting in a cold gust of wind.

He glanced behind him and frowned when he couldn't see anyone. Only a raging snowstorm where there had been clear skies only minutes before. Marinette frowned as well, stepping forward to close the door again.

As she did so she found that snow was piling up too fast to be natural. She felt annoyance sweep over her. Couldn't Farfalla leave people alone? It was so much worse than Hawkmoth, whoever Farfalla was she made much more violent Akumas. 

“Papa, Maman, looks like another akuma,” she called through to the kitchen, forcing the door closed and locking it. She struggled to push it until Damian joined her, pressing the door shut with both palms flat against it. 

Marinette turned around to thank him and found herself still caged between his arms. His eyes looked as stormy as outside, she could clearly see a conflict in them. She swallowed, mouth dry and made to push him out of the way gently. But instead of making him move, her hands ended up resting on his chest. He moved closer, head dipping towards her-

“Marinette, are you alright?” Her Papa burst out of the kitchen, looking concerned until he saw the pair pulling hastily apart. Amusement pulled at the man's lips and he crossed his arms. “This must be Damian; it's a pleasure to meet you young man. Marinette said that you saw her safely home on Christmas Eve.”

“Papa,” she whined, blushing as she glanced up at Damian. “An akuma? Can you make sure the kitchen is sealed? I'm pretty sure the snow is getting everywhere.”

“Yes yes, the back door is already completely snowed in. You didn't leave your skylight open, did you?”

“You don't think it's that badly snowed over, do you?” She asked, suddenly alarmed. If the skylight was covered, she wouldn't be able to push Damian out of it before she transformed. “You know what, I'm going to go and check. Damian, are you okay-”

“-to go with Marinette,” her Papa said sternly, worry clear across his features. She hesitated but Damian was agreeing, taking hold of her hand and tugging her to action. 

Leading him upstairs, Marinette tried not to enjoy the way his hand felt in hers. She could feel the callouses he had earned from his sword practice and vigilantism and she tried not to think too hard about them. 

Arriving in her attic room, she cursed when no light came through her skylight or window. She pushed uselessly at the skylight before throwing herself onto her bed. Kwamis hidden around the room gave her sympathetic looks but didn't make themselves known.

“We shall have to sit out the akuma here, I suppose,” Damian said, staring at his phone. “I don't have any signal, I assume the storm is disrupting service. I have every faith that the Parisian heroes will restore order as quickly as possible, so what would you like to do to pass our time?”

“I wouldn't bet on things going quickly,” she muttered, having a quick internal debate over her choices. Absurdly quickly she became churlish. “I can't believe this, I would not be in this position if you had just done what you were told.”

“I'm not sure I understand,” Damian said, appearing at the end of her bed with a frown. She sighed and sat up to glare accusingly at him.

“Yes, you do. You were supposed to send me a nice message telling me that you had to go home suddenly. I was going to be very upset and heartbroken that you weren't from Paris and then try to forget you whilst knowing you were still around. Instead you showed up and got trapped in here with me which means I have to tell you that I'm Ladybug which is what I was trying to avoid!”

“...you are Ladybug?” He said after a moment, assumedly to process the verbal barrage she shot at him. She groaned and nodded, jumping slightly when the mattress dipped under his weight. He loomed over her, those beautiful green eyes pinning her in place. “I did not think you could be any more appealing, but it appears I was wrong.”

He leaned down to kiss her, pressing her into the bed with his weight. She allowed herself to enjoy it for several minutes, hands burying in his hair, before she broke away. His lips traveled along her jaw and she almost forgot what she was supposed to be doing. Almost because Tikki appeared above them, a tolerantly amused look on her face.

“I'm glad you two are having fun, but perhaps we can deal with the akuma?”

_ _ _

The fight with the akuma was relatively simple, a disgruntled employee who had blanketed the city in snow so they didn't have to deal with customers on Boxing day. Marinette cast her Miraculous Ladybug and the snow melted magically away. 

She turned to Robin, pausing before pulling him aside. The rest of the Bats looked curious but Marinette was determined to have the conversation without them.

“Listen, we have to get back so my parents don't realise we got out,” she said, her voice low. He nodded, following her away from the group. In order to allow him to change before they headed back - there was no way she was going to try and explain that to her parents - she used the horse Miraculous again to get to his hotel room.

They landed back in her room, the Miraculous energy washing out of her as she detransformed, and she collapsed onto the bed again. Damian pressed a hand to her leg, a steady reassuring pressure. 

“If we're going to try this, we're going to have to tell your family, aren't we,” she stated, not really a question but directed at him nonetheless.

“It would make it easier,” he admitted, leaning back against the wall. “But if you wish to keep it a secret, I will respect that.”

“Or we could just…go our separate ways,” she said, trying to ignore the way her gut clenched at the thought. Damian froze, face tight with some kind of strong emotion and Marinette wanted to touch him so badly she couldn't help brushing a hand against his cheek.

“That is not an appealing option for me,” he said after several seconds, leaning towards her hand. He looked down at her and she bit her lip, wanting to resume what they had been doing before but nervous about taking that step.

He took the decision out of her hands, smoothing her lip out from between her teeth with his thumb before pressing his own to them.

_ _ _

1 Year Later

Marinette twirled the skirt of her dress, gazing at the mirror she had placed next to the fireplace in Damian's room. He watched her from the bed, a smile crinkling the corner of his eyes. She looked over her shoulder at him, smiling broadly. 

She couldn't believe how much things had changed in only a year. Farfalla had been defeated, Damian had convinced her to both join the Justice League and apply for university in Gotham (which she'd gotten into and was currently attending) and now she was getting ready to attend the Waynes’ New Year Gala.

“You look wonderful as always, Mari,” Damian said with a crooked smile. “And you will fit seamlessly into the aesthetics for the evening.”

“You always know what I'm worried about,” she said, chagrined. Moving carefully, so as not to wrinkle her skirt, she climbed up next to him on the bed and kissed him gently. He pressed back against her, fingers threading into her carefully constructed bun.

She decided she didn't mind showing up to the gala late if it meant more time spent alone with Damian.

[frozenjokes]

Hermitdragons Masterpost (Wings of Fire x Hermitcraft/Third Life AU)

Grainshifter (Grian) was born to the Nightwings under one full moon, giving him the power to read minds. However, as fortold by Nightwing seers, he also possesses animus magic, a power that the Nightwings will use to bring their tribe into greater glory, becoming Watchers that feed off the strong emotions of the other dragon species, particularly fear. When Grainshifter attends Jade Mountain Academy in disguise as a Skywing called Grian, the Watchers take notes, and years later they surprise him with his very own death game featuring all his friends.

hello hello! this fic is on hiatus, and while I would like to finish it one day, it is my first foray into fic writing basically ever, and my writing has improved dramatically since a year ago when I started to write this. It’s been a while since I’ve reread this, but I have been told it’s good! lol. However! There’s still a lot of content (70k words and SO MUCH ART) so let’s get into it!

Fic One - Ruler of Everything

After Grian betrays Nightwatcher secrets to one of his best friends, Scar, he is punished by the Nightwatchers and placed into a death game with all of his past friends from the academy. However, there are two dragons he does not know; Scott, a Seawing who seems mostly normal, and Martyn, a dragon whose mind he can not read at all. Whose mind no one can read. Whose body can not be manipulated by animus magic. Soon, it is clear that Grian is not the only dragon here that is being punished.

Fic Two - Mechanical Hands (this fic does not exist but in theory it would after the first)

Grian comes to terms with his relationship with the Nightwatchers, finally realizing and accepting that they do not love him, and only want to use him. He teams up with Martyn in a shared goal of destroying animus magic, but a massive problem still stands; they’re both still stuck in these death games. And their friends are still under the Nightwatchers’ magical control. As the games go on, things are starting to feel hopeless, but revealing the secret of Martyn’s immunity to animus magic that he has so desperately tried to keep might just be the solution these trapped dragons need to escape.

Beyond these summaries, I’m going to try and keep these story explanations brief, however, if you’re interested is All Of The Art + commentary + more story explored through the art, then you can keep reading under the cut :) also just as a warning there is a lot of undetailed cartoon blood below

Designs

before writing, these were my first pass of most of the designs in the series! As you can probably tell from the references of the main three characters at the top, Scar, Grian, and even Martyn have changed quite a bit, and if I ever return to this series, other designs will probably change as well. Except Joel and Bdubs. Those are peak. The biggest change from these designs, is that Jimmy is not actually a dragon in this fic!(which is why I included the third picture with him, Scott, and Grian) He is super human, and he dies first for A REASON. He just looks the way canon Jimmy does, minus the wings.

Full Pieces

I made two fully rendered pieces for this fic. To the left is a scene from the academy where Pearl, Ren, and BigB are play fighting in the mountains while Grian and Scar watch. Grian is very uptight in the academy, struggling socially, and his friends, painfully aware Grian comes from a bad home situation and possibly raised in a cult, are trying to help him relax and have a nice time in school while he has the chance.

On the right is a scene from far into the death game, where Scar is overtaken by the magic of his red life, and is threatening to force Grian to kill all three Dogwarts dragons, and at the same time, blowing himself up in the process. The dragon on the left is Skizz and I hate his design, however the little tie thing is hilarious.

Chapter Headers

I made a ton of headers for the chapters of this fic, though most of them are broken on ao3 as far as I’m aware. However, you can see them here!

dragons featured in order of appearance: Scar, Pearl, BigB, Grian, Martyn, Scott, Jimmy, Ren. This isn’t actually every header but I’m going to run out of images and these cover most of them. The ones I left out aren’t anything special.

Mini Comics + Misc Art

I have literally run out of image slots. But that’s okay (most of the stuff was covered, but if you want to scroll through the hermitdragons tag then feel free). Hope you enjoyed regardless! This series is still very close to my heart, and even though I kind of lost touch with it, it’s something I still love dearly. Thanks for reading :)

[statiicstar]

All Martyrs Are Not Saints

chapter 4!

link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65095666/chapters/169329772#workskin

preview length: 1.3k

actual fic length: 2.5k

It was the next morning, light streaming into the apartment’s windows as the four of them gathered in the living room. Matt had insisted Frank be there on account of helping to explain things, even though he had much better things to do. Nonetheless, he agreed, claiming it was only so he could grab a cup of coffee.

It was cool inside the apartment from the AC being on blast, a way to beat out the early summer temperatures. Dick had learned that seasons worked differently here, changing from hot to cold in a matter of days. Nights were full of breezes, according to Matt, having spent a lot of them playing 'Daredevil'.

Dick Grayson furrowed his brows as he tried to comprehend that the guy in front of him was supposed to be the solution to his reality-slippingproblems. He was scrawny, wearing a suit that covered his whole body. It was red and blue with a spider emblem on the front, webs adorned throughout.

He looked at Matt and Frank before speaking. Frank sat on a kitchen chair behind him, sipping on a cup of warm coffee. There was a light steam wafting in the air from it, and the smell of caramel-vanilla filled the space. It was ironic that for someone with such a tough demeanor, all the guy craved was some caffeine.

No wonder the guy was a jerk sometimes.

“Who are you?” Dick questioned.

He was wondering why Matt had decided to bring him out of all people. But he shouldn’t be quick to judge. This strange guy might just end up being his ticket home.

The man’s mask had two eye lenses that changed based on his expression, making him easy to read. It was almost like he could see the gears turning in his brain.

“Are we using our fake names? Cause if so-“ He was cut off by a nudge from Frank. 

He sounded young to be a vigilante. To know Matt and Frank. Then again, Dick had been that way. Probably even younger when he once stood in the same light as Batman.

“I’m Spider-Man.” He coughed.

There was a backpack at his feet, complete with a keychain. Dick found it amusing that this was his life currently. Talking to a teenager turned vigilante about his problems.

Just another day.

”Dick Grayson. Also Nightwing.” Dick put his feet up on the coffee table.

Looking at the kid, it made perfect sense that his name was ‘Spider-Man’. The webs, the spider emblem. Dick had no clue who he was, but he didn’t have to be Einstein to put the puzzle pieces together.

Although he was unsure of why Frank didn’t want him to know the guy’s real name. Dick was one of them, it’s not like he would go around revealing identities to the whole world. What kind of vigilante would that make him?

“Why can’t I know his actual name?” Dick turned to Frank, tone laced with annoyance.

Frank looked back at him, laced with annoyance. He shrugged his shoulders, staying silent as he sipped more of his coffee. 

“Reasons.” Matt chimed in, fixing his glasses.

Dick crossed his arms, sighing.

“I know both of your names. What’s so special about him?” He motioned to Spider-Man.

”I was bitten by a radioactive spider...” The kid started awkwardly.

Dick sighed, fingers pressed against his temple. There was a small silence that hung in the air, waiting to break.

”Tell him what happened to you.” Matt changed the topic. "How you're here.”

Dick did just that.

He broke down what he had been doing in Gotham just before the whole incident, making sure he recounted it correctly. Although he skipped the interrogation that Matt and Frank had conducted. It was embarrassing, and he wanted to spare himself the time.

“All of a sudden..I just found myself here. On someone’s roof.” Dick explained.

“My roof.” Matt corrected.

Dick rolled his eyes. Of course, he had to be right.

Whose roof did it matter? The point was all the same.

Spider-Man sat on a chair in front of him, thinking to himself. He took his time processing Dick’s words before answering.

“I can’t be much help to you getting back.” His tone was cautious. “But I know this super cool sorcerer. His name’s Doctor Strange.”

Not another doctor. He’d had enough of those. 

Dick sighed. “Will I be getting answers this time?” 

It was frustrating, the whole thing. Attempt after attempt was starting to feel futile. He was starting to wish he hadn’t lunged at the Joker. Dick regretted his actions tremendously, abandoning his city after the explosion. Maybe he would’ve still been in Gotham.

Maybe he wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to apologize to his brother. 

Those people, who know how many, died because he wasn’t capable of saving them. More like he was, the hostage situation was just an excuse. Batman would’ve still tried to save them.

“I really don’t know, man. It’s worth a shot.” Spider-Man pulled out a phone.

The kid pressed his phone to his ear, lightly tapping a foot against the floor. He was silent, waiting for the ringing to cease and the voice of Stephen Strange to greet him.

“That’s weird..” He said, calling another time. 

After two more attempts at reaching Doctor Strange, Spider-Man sank back into his chair.

“What?” Dick asked, confused.

“Hate to break it to you, man. He’s not answering.” He said.

Dick felt his patience thinning. What the hell could this so-called Doctor Strange be doing that was more important than him getting back to Gotham?

The phone rang again, and he felt a small bit of hope rise in his chest. Maybe it was just a false alarm. Surely this would be him.

Or so Dick thought.

When Spider-Man answered the phone this time, he sighed. Dick couldn’t tell whether it was one of relief or one of annoyance. One thing was for certain, though. The issue was serious.

“Again?” He placed a hand at the back of his head. 

Hanging up the phone, the kid stood up and grabbed his backpack. 

"Uh, sorry guys. I've got to go. Cat needs rescuing.” Spider-Man darted out the window, saying his few goodbyes.

All of that just to let him down again?

Dick was the one who sank into the couch this time, exhausted when the day had just begun. Now he had to wait, yet again. It was almost like he was waiting for nothing. That’s what it felt like. 

But he’d known that once he found his way back, all the waiting would’ve been worth it. 

* *

Matt had let Dick come to work with him, getting sick of his nonstop rants about being bored. He lent him a black suit complete with a blue tie and a pair of shoes to match. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but what else would shut him up?

“If anyone asks, you’re an intern.” Matt briefed him.

“Right.” Dick nodded, adjusting his tie. “How hard can it be?”

The day proved to be challenging, with practically all of his tasks involving handling paperwork in some form. Dick was stationed in Matt’s office, his eyes strained from reading fine print all day.

"How do you do this all day?" He said, clicking a pen as he stared blankly at the paper.

Matt smirked, swiveling in his chair.

"I don't. It's not my job. You're doing what all the assistants do, not the lawyers." He spoke.

Earlier, a man who went by the name of Foggy Nelson had introduced himself while he and Matt were walking in.

“You’re hiring people without me?” Foggy quipped.

”Oh, he’s not an employee. Just an intern.” Matt quickly explained.

"Wait, I don't get paid for this?" Dick's brows furrowed, he wore a semi-disappointed expression.

Foggy and Matt chuckled, cracking up at Dick's words.

"Hell no." Matt smiled.

[ao3feed-sladedick]

Caramel and Whipped Cream

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/ohdu9eO by CrazyJanaCat Dick is craving some sugar and Slade would just really like to get his cock sucked. Luckily, Dick has a solution that fixes both of their problems. Words: 1440, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: DCU, Nightwing (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sugar cock, Oral Sex, Food Kink, blowjob, 12 Days of Smutness read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/ohdu9eO

[iam1withthepeggy]

My favorite wings of Fire characters by tribe (with proof!)

IceWing- Snowfall bc book fourteen gives amazing insight on who she is and stuff like that

NightWing- I have a three way tie here. Moonwatcher, Deathbringer, and Darkstalker are the best three. Deathbringer is so loyal to his Queen, Glory. Moon is too, which is why I love them. Moon and Deathbringer are really popular in the fandom and don’t need much explaining, so I’m gonna talk more about why I love Darkstalker. In the Darkstalker book (it’s one of the legends books) we learn about him and his childhood. He had good intentions for his actions, but he took the wrong steps to get there. He really cared about Moon and her friends, but he was selfishly motivated. When he enchanted Fatespeaker to become Clearsight in Darkness of Dragons, he cared more about getting Clearsight back than he did about harming the dragon underneath the mask. All he wanted was his girlfriend back, and this was the only way to do it.

RainWing- Kinkajou is so sweet and bubbly all the time. Everyone forgets that she SURVIVED BEING TORTURED BY NIGHTWINGS FOR MONTHS WITH NO SUN OR FRUIT. And to still be awesome? She is the best.

SkyWing- Peril and Cliff. Many people forget about cliff and his amazing SkyWing poem in Escaping Peril and he is amazing and yeah.

SandWing- Qibli. He makes observations and he can be so smart and quick thinking, which is why I love him. He lived with a family who hated him for three years of his life, and then his mother sold him to Thorn who took care of him for the rest of his life. To survive all that and keep being awesome… well, that takes a lot.

MudWing- The best MudWing is Sora. I know a lot of people don’t like her because she ⚠️SPOILER ALERT⚠️ killed Carnelian and Bigtail while attempting to murder Icicle, but I think she’s the best. MudWings are probably the tribe with the least page time (if that’s not the right word that’s too bad bc my friend @labaguetteisdabest told me to use that word) bc we never rlly meet Queen Moorhen and her tribe, apart from Clay. Anyways, I’m getting off topic.

SeaWing- Anemone and Auklet are the best bc they’re adorable and super powerful and amazing.

LeafWing- Sundew. She is an amazing fighter and cares about her friends and Willow so much it’s crazy. She always figures out a solution to any problem and will do anything to protect her friends.

HiveWing- I think the two best HiveWings are easily Cricket and Bumblebee. Cricket is like me, super smart and always questioning why things are the way they are. Bumblebee, on the other hand, is a baby dragon, who is adorable. She is so adorable with her SNUDOOOOO and her EEPOW. I love them both, so don’t you dare make me choose between them.

SilkWing- I don’t have a favorite SilkWing. They’re all awesome in their own ways.

[froldgapp]

Bruce approached the waiting group of vigilantes, diagnostic print-out in hand. It looked too thick to be anything good. Bruce clocked Tim’s expectant stare and nodded once. It was going to be one of those incidents.

“It’s very complicated.” Bruce leaned back against the console. “Miss Mien’s sceptre struck Dick several times before it was disabled, which means there are several transformations stacked on top of each other; the red-eyed tree frog being the final transformation.” 

“And I couldn’t have lucked out as something cool like a fox?” Dick asked from his spot atop Tim’s shoulder.

“You were luckier than you think. You could have been…,” Bruce’s eyes dropped to the paper. “A hagfish.”

Dick gulped noisily.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Bruce re-focused the discussion, “Until we get this resolved, we’re going to have to reconfigure. Tim, you’ll take over Nightwing’s schedule.”

“Okay.” Tim shrugged, easy.

Bruce flipped a page of the report over, eyes still fixed on the readings. “As Nightwing.”

Tim sputtered then choked on some of the spit he sucked back in. “Woah, haha. Hey. Isn’t that a little–” His coughing dislodged Dick who landed on the table with a splat.

“We need Nightwing in the constellation right now. Damian can cover both Robin roles until we find a solution.”

Damian erupted into a salvo of objections.

Oh, to be a hagfish, Tim thought. He was already exhausted by the plan and they hadn’t even started executing it yet.

Dick hopped along the table to lay a gluey “hand” on Tim’s index finger. Tim repressed a shudder. “You can do it. No problem.”

Tim returned the sentiment with a half-baked smile.

Dick threw a long digit in the direction of the gym, goofy red-eyes large and excited. “Let’s hit the mats later. I can give you some pointers.”

“And Tim?” Both boy and frog looked to Bruce. “I need you to think about what you could have done differently. From what you’ve both told me, you may as well have shot Dick yourself.”

As if Tim didn’t know. As if he didn’t think about his iron grip on the scepter and Mien’s rigid fingers as she folded backwards, tilting scepter’s blasts towards Dick. “I have. I will.”

Dick hopped from the table and up the length of Tim’s arm. “Ignore him,” he whispered in Tim’s ear. “You know he does this when he’s been rattled.”

Tim cast doleful eyes to Dick and the wide-mouthed ever-grin of the frog. “Sure,” he said, and smiled. For Dick’s sake.

I assaulted @vellaphoria with the notion of how fun a sort of goofy Frog Princess situation with Dick would be. I needed to scratch the itch.

Tim dropped into a roll as a bolt of energy shot overhead. Somewhere above him, Nightwing was hanging onto a drain pipe, primed for a jump. Their assailant–a teenage girl in what looked like a navy uniform with a red bow at her white-collared neck–was firing wildly from a brass sceptre in the shape of a cobra. They'd been looking into an evening of sudden disappearances Downtown and found this delight.

"Hold still," she commanded, lifting her arm to fire off some shots at Dick as he leapt above her, spinning through the air to land just a metre or so behind her.

Providing a distraction, Tim sprinted towards the girl in a wide arc, calling, "What's that thing do anyway?"

"What?" She spun back towards Dick who had drawn his escrima sticks. They sparked in the damp air, lighting his face in a mask of pure menace. Tim pushed off his left leg, darting in the other direction to draw fire. They were closing in on her.

"I mean–eep!," Tim yelled as a shot flew by his ear. "I mean, is it like a blown to pieces situation or more of a 'hijinks ensue' type thing?"

She was unimpressed. "Hijinks? I'm a serious mage from one of the most reputa–"

"Hey, you ever think about what the difference is between a mage, and a wizard, a warlock and a witch?" Tim asked, narrowly avoiding another blast with some hip work he was rather proud of.

Her full lips pulled back into a snarl. "Doesn't he shut up?" she demanded of Dick.

Dick chuckled. "He's actually the quiet one."

Dick was within touching distance of her now. One jab of those sticks would put her out for the count. At least they hoped. As she turned, blonde hair whipping to target Tim again, Dick rushed her. In her haste to face him, she left her arm with the sceptre exposed. Tim caught it in an iron grip, grimacing as shot after shot was fired uselessly at the sky, just millimetres from his face.

"Nighty night," Dick said, pressing the stick to the girl's low back as she struggled like a wild thing. She folded immediately, eyes rolling up in her head. But, as Tim quickly observed, there were two issues.

One, her finger frozen with the charge to the sceptre's fire mechanism. And two, how she folded like a marionette at the knees, her back dropping down towards the grimy concrete and the sceptre firing directly over her head as Tim fell forwards on top of her.

"Ouch," Tim grumbled, rubbing at his eyes to get the motes of green-yellow light out of them. "You okay, Nightwing?" he asked as he rocked back on his haunches.

"Of course," Dick answered, voice cracking a little. Must have been the strain, or the weather. It was so miserably damp.

Tim nodded and leaned forward again to make a cursory check of the girl's pulse. All fine, of course. He glanced up finally. But where he expected to see Dick, there was only empty space. No, not empty. A Nightwing suit–one devoid of Nightwing. Ah. Mostly. There was something.

"Uh..."

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" asked Dick, who was, presently, a little green frog.

Tim didn't want to be speechless–he wanted to comfort Dick, naturally. He tried to telegraph as much to his mouth without success.

"Is it bad? It's bad, isn't it? You can be honest." The frog swallowed, its throat bubbling then deflating again.

"Hijinks ensue..." Tim muttered and dragged a hand down his face.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Never Love Another

It was no secret that when Jason came back he came back wrong. The violence and pit rage were the most obvious ones of course, but now that it had faded other little things had started to surface. He had noticed this deep loneliness and homesickness for something he couldn’t remember or name. He didn’t know what to do about it besides, well maybe try to find someone who could sooth the loneliness. But it wasn’t working, if it wasn’t for how bad he wanted a romantic connection he would have thought he was aromatic now because he never, Never felt a spark at all, with anyone.

He actually talked to Dick about it, and let him talk Jason into therapy, but that didn’t help, and when Tim found out about it the paranoid little shit started doing tests. And that was how fucking Bruce found out, and he was even more paranoid so they would not believe it was a coincidence or anything and more tests were done. No answers were found until Batman called in a favour from JLD, Jason tried to insist it wasn’t worth it but Batman said his happiness was the most important thing, which made Jason shut up and make a face like he’d bitten into a lemon.

Now he was just trying to avoid admitting that they were right. “What the fuck do you mean cursed?!” Jason demanded from Constantine who shrugged and lit a new cigarette from the butt of the last one.

“I don’t know mate,” He said with a shrug, taking a drag. “While you were dead you must have pissed off some pretty powerful bastard because it’s Not a petty curse either, not the sort of thing I or Zatanna can break. Looks like it’s to ‘never love again’ or something like that, I don’t know it’s not exactly written in words.” He explained and Jason dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

Of course, why wouldn’t this happened? Honestly though as the literature nerd he was he had to think whoever had cursed him must have been of a similar temperament, given how melodramatic is was.  He wished he could remember what the fuck he had done to get cursed like this?

“So how would we break the curse?” Batman asked, ever solution oriented.

“Don’t know Bats,” Constantine admitted with a one shoulder shrug. “I think you’d have to find whoever cursed him and convince them to lift it. They’re a seriously powerful denizen of the Infinite Realms so we could try a summoning but there’s no guarantee that is would work, and if not you’d have to go to them which would be veeery risky. I’m not sure it’d be worth it honestly, I mean it’s a bit of a blessing isn’t it? Not like our lifestyles really lend to romance,” He snickered and everyone ignored him.

“How long will it take to arrange a summoning,” Nightwing demanded with a frown, why he had to be here too Jason didn’t know but… he was privately a little grateful that he was.

“Mmm A couple of weeks, we have most of the stuff required and the unique ingredients aren’t that hard to find,” the magician hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll remind you, there’s no guarantee that it’s going to work,” he reminded and even though Jason hadn’t looked up he could practically sense the twin scowls Dick and Bruce were shooting John.

“We’re going to try it,” Batman growled and Constantine hummed.

“Sure, whatever you say, I’ll start setting it up.”

------

Those two weeks were plenty of time to panic about who it might be, what Jason might have done to cause this, and what the being might do if they answered the summons. They had a lot of preparations to do, but when Jason tried to say they shouldn’t do this Bruce and the others insisted that they needed to know ho had it out for Jason if just in case they decided to cause more problems. There was discussion about if Jason should be present, but he really wanted to be if this was happening, he wanted to see the monster that had cursed him.

Constantine and Zatanna were both there the day of, as well as Batman and Nightwing, and superman, just in case things went horribly wrong. The spell was… stressful for Red Hood, the portal it opened made him feel like he was staring into the Lazarus pits again, even if it was missing the feeling of rage.

It felt like they were all holding their breath for a few long minutes waiting to see if the summon would be answered. Jason was just starting to think that no one was going to answer when a white booted foot stepped through, followed quickly by the rest of the body.

Jason blinked, staring uncomprehendingly at the being that had answered the summons, not because they were some incomprehensible monster, but for the opposite reason, because they looked so human. Not normal, their ashen skin, pointed ears, and white hair that disregarded gravity, made sure of that, but he looked human other then that. A head or so shorter then Jason, lean and agile looking with unusually wide hips and soft curves for a man. His ears were pierced three times, two having studs like planets and a set of dangly ones shaped like a sun and a moon which glinted in the light of the glowing crown on his head. It looked like ice that had trapped the northern lights within them, it was beautiful, it took his breath away.

He had a vague feeling that the others present were talking, but Jason and, it seemed, the spirit, were not hearing them. Jason couldn’t tear his gaze away from the creatures Lazarus green eyes, why did he feel so familiar.

“Jay,” The being breathes, a bright smile spreading across his face, revealing little fangs that shouldn’t have been so adorable. “How did you, you shouldn’t have called me, I don’t… You don’t remember me do you? You shouldn’t,” He breathed, the smile dropping as the initial joy at seeing Jason overtaken by worry.

“We want to know why you cursed my son!” Batman shouted, suddenly cutting through the odd, tunnel version they’d both been trapped in and sending them both reeling. Jason had been leaning forward and ended up stumbling.

“Oh,” The creature sounded, his brows furrowing as Jason finally looked around and noticed how Constantine was cowering.

“Batman! Don’t yell at the fucking king of the Infinite Realms!” Constantine practically squeaked. The king?! How had Jason pissed off the king?! “We’re so sorry for disturbing you your Majesty, please don’t destroy us,” the wizard said, sounding like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

The being still in the circle cackled and crossed his legs under him, sitting on air at the odd cape that looked like it was made of the night sky billowed behind him. “Don’t worry I’m not planning on it, honestly, I am happy to see you again Jaybird,” He said with a soft smile, his gaze going back to Jason like he wanted to drink him in. “You’ve grown so much pretty-bird, are you happy? Do you like being alive again?” He asked worriedly. “You’re always welcome back-“

Nightwing read that as a threat that this supposed King was going to kill Jason again and yanked him back, standing between Jason and the stranger, even though he was shorter and slimmer then Red Hood. “He’s not going anywhere! Why did you curse him?” Nightwing demanded again.

“It wasn’t a curse, it was a price,” Phantom said with a frown. “I would let him go, but not to love another.”

“Love, another?” Jason asked this time, his voice harsh and soft. God how his heart ached, why couldn’t he remember something that made him feel so much longing and pain?

“Another,” Danny said, his voice softening again. “While you were in my realm we were… Close, very close. But you couldn’t let go of life, you weren’t ready to give yourself to me, not fully,” Danny bit his lip for a moment. “It hurt, but I only wanted what was best for you Jay, so if you had unfinished business… well, I let you leave. I did! I let you go, but-but maybe I was selfish, I was going to be waiting decades for you and-and I couldn’t stand the idea of waiting that long only for you to have fallen in love again with someone in life and, even after dying and remembering me, choosing to stay with them! So that was the deal, you get to live again, but only if you don’t love again, and you come back to me when you’re done. You agreed.”

There was a long silence as everyone processed what the king had said, it was Constantine who reacted first, rounding on Jason. “You dated the King of the Infinite Realms!?” He demanded, flabbergasted.

“Ugh, just call me Danny, I’m the king sure but I don’t care much for the title,” The bring in front of them corrected with a grimace.

“Danny,” Nightwing said, holding out his hand in a sort of placating gesture. “Can you… change the price?” He asked uncertainly.

“NO!” Danny said instantly, his voice echoing in a way that made those present flinch. “No, the deal still stands. I let him leave my kingdom, but I won’t completely give him up. I can’t, I can’t,” Danny said and Jason could swear he saw Danny’s eyes glimmer with tears.

“It’s alright,” Jason said, softly as he could, Danny’s pain called to him in a way he couldn’t explain. “It’s just, I’ve been lonely, I’ve felt like I’ve been missing something since I came back. I thought it was love, but now I think, I think it’s you. I’ve been homesick, for You,” He said, stepping closer again and holding out his hand. John yelped when Jason broke the circle, but he was being ignored.

Danny’s eyes widened in shock, then welled over with tears as he reached out and took Jason’s hand, his feet landing back on the ground as he stepped closer. “I’ve missed you too Jaybird, I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe,” He practically whispered. As he stepped over the line a white ring ran up and over his body, leaving a- well, for all appearances a human man with similar features and inverted colours, maybe a little younger then Jason. “I’m sorry you’ve been lonely, but I wanted to let you live your life. If you want, I could visit more? I would be happy to put in the work to, start over, let you get to know me in this life?” He laced their fingers together, taking Jason’s other hand as well, standing chest to chest and looking up at him through dark lashes, framing beautiful clear blue eyes.

“I would love that,” Jason breathed. Startled by a sound of disbelief behind him, he’d forgotten Nightwing was there and he glanced back. “What? It solves the problem of me being unable to love, it turns out I was just trying to love the wrong people.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 7

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Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever

No I didn't get carried away with writing domestic fluff and forget to do the one thing I was supposed to with this chapter I'm a professional and would never do that

It took a long time for Tim and Cass to convince Marinette that, no, it wasn’t a trap, it was just a normal Halloween Party. It took even longer to explain what a Halloween Party really was, because apparently it wasn’t a huge deal in France.

But, eventually, she got it:

“Okay, so every Rogue and vigilante has to go to his Halloween Party in stupid costumes… or else?”

Tim nodded. “Rogues have to go because he’ll be insufferable, we have to go because otherwise we’re leaving a bunch of Rogues alone together without supervision.”

“And it really is just a Halloween Party?”

Cass flashed two thumbs up.

Marinette still looked a little confused. “And we… we want to babysit the Rogues?”

“They mostly behave themselves. Again, Crane can be insufferable when he wants to be and they have to spend a lot of time with him in Arkham.”

“I guess that’s cool then…” Then, a thought seemed to occur to her because she brightened up. “Is Nightwing coming?”

Tim nodded, suddenly a lot more wary. “Yeah, both he and Flamebird drop by for most holidays, anyway, so they might as well… why?”

She blushed a little. “I kind of wanted to see if I could get him to train me. I think his fighting style is pretty cool.”

Tim was not jealous or annoyed that Marinette might like two of his brothers more than him. He was fine if she liked Cass more, because Cass was, well, Cass. But Dick? Damian? Come on!

At least he had a month before the party to prepare himself.

For now, he glared at Cass, because she was laughing at him behind her hand.

Then he remembered that Marinette was still there and was watching the two of them interact with a vaguely confused expression and he pulled himself together: “I don’t know if he can teach you much since he’s usually in Bludhaven, but I used to be obsessed with the guy and I know all his moves by heart.”

She tipped her head to the side, considering, then smiled at him. “Sure. Thanks, Red, I owe you one.”

He tried to hide his relief behind a smile. She smiled and blushed, so he was pretty sure it worked.

~

Marinette smiled as she scrolled through the Batinternet on her phone (they’d finally given her the password! She no longer had to waste data!). The batkids were all working on the computer, trying to hack into their father’s files to see their Christmas presents.

She didn’t get why they were doing it then, it wasn’t even Halloween yet. Still, they insisted that Batman was always prepared well before the holidays hit. She was curious about what they’d find, if anything, so she waited as Red Robin hacked their dad’s files.

Loud cheers erupted from the others, which meant they must have found something.

“... right, Ladybug, yours is easiest to get into… he probably didn’t expect you to try… he’s getting you an Xbox and a bunch of games to go with it.”

Her gaze shot up and she surged to the front of the group to see. “Really?”

Red Robin pointed at the screen and she blinked a few times. Yep, that was a customized Xbox. Wild.

Then her shoulders slumped. “Damn, I was only kidding. If I knew he was actually going to get it I would’ve asked for a Playstation.”

She continued looking at all the ‘random’ games Batman had bought her (he was suspiciously good at guessing what she liked), completely oblivious to the fact that she had accidentally started World War III right behind herself at the casual mention of a thing she wanted.

She glanced back at them once during their fight and they straightened instantly, innocent smiles in place. The hand Red Robin had in Robin’s hair turned into a hair ruffle. Black Bat had turned the way she gripped the collar of Spoiler’s shirt into pulling her down for a hug. Signal’s eyes stopped glowing under his domino. She smiled a little and turned back to the screen to look at the rest of the games. Fighting resumed.

Or, at least, it did until Marinette saw the file name.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“I knew you fuckers took my blood,” she hissed irritably.

She wasn’t exactly scared, the bats seemed generally well-intentioned, just paranoid, but that didn’t mean she liked it. They stole her blood to figure out her identity without asking.

They all tensed up behind her and looked at each other awkwardly.

Robin was first to snap out of it. He swatted Red Robin over the back of the head. “Look what you’ve done, Drake.”

Marinette blinked and then pulled her gaze back to Red Robin. “Drake?”

The batkids looked at each other awkwardly. Except for Red Robin, who was glaring at his youngest brother.

Spoiler was the first one to come up with an excuse: “It’s an older codename. We told him to come up with something original since everything else he’s used has belonged to someone else first… and that’s what he came up with.”

She considered whether Drake really confirmed that Red Robin was Tim Drake-Wayne. On one hand, yeah… but, on the other hand, was he really that stupid? Would he really use his own last name for a codename?

She supposed that, in all her time knowing Tim and Red Robin, he had never shown himself to be original. Smart, sure, but a little unoriginal.

So, yeah, Tim was almost definitely Red Robin.

But she was prepared to ignore it for now. Every bat seemed tense at the idea of her learning their identities, so she played dumb:

“It’s not that bad of a codename. Dragons are pretty cool.”

She could feel Black Bat still staring at her, but everyone else relaxed almost imperceptibly.

“He didn’t base himself off of dragons, he chose male ducks,” Robin informed her.

She blinked. “Why the hell would he choose ducks?”

Signal snapped his fingers and started pulling out his phone. “Oh, Mari -- can I call you Mari? -- you should see his outfit.”

Red Robin realized he was about to get murdered for his younger self’s outfit choices and tried to snatch the phone away.

Unfortunately for him, while he was concentrating on Signal, Black Bat had sidled over to Marinette. She tugged her arm to pull her attention from the two fighting boys and then showed her the picture.

Marinette stared at the ugly cockroach outfit for a long time before taking a deep breath: “Alright, first of all...”

~

Tim… he was fine.

Okay, no, he wasn’t.

The tracker was better, he would admit. She had even started wearing more red and black so she could wear the necklace more (something that made him feel all fuzzy inside), but she wasn’t wearing it every day and he couldn’t exactly tell if the necklace was there because she was home or if it was there because she’d worn a different outfit.

So, he only had one solution: randomly dropping by to do chores with her.

It started off with the ‘might as well’ principle. They were already out for photography and getting ideas for outfits, why not pick up some groceries while they were on their way back? She could even carry more since there were two of them.

He quickly dropped pretenses, though. The one time every few days that they hung out wasn’t enough to keep her in the house, and even if it was she clearly wasn’t fond of staying inside for long periods of time. He started dropping by every day to just go out with her.

He could tell his family was getting a little suspicious about what he was doing, Steph and Cass both narrowed their eyes at him whenever they saw him leaving the office at a normal time and once he had caught Duke following him to see where he was going… but it was fine. They weren’t going to complain about him actually getting some sort of down time.

And, he had to admit, it was nice. Not only did resting his brain for an hour or two a day do wonders for his mental health, he just… enjoyed doing chores with her? He didn’t think he would. He’d expected to like it the first few times, the novelty of going on his first grocery shopping trip or figuring out how a laundromat was always going to make it interesting and new for a bit, but it didn’t seem to be wearing off.

He was pretty sure that was because of the person he was doing it with, though.

He smiled as he watched Marinette half-climb the supermarket shelves for a bag of Takis.

“Need help?” He called.

“Nope!”

He watched her jump a few times on the lowest shelf before, eventually, climbing up another shelf.

Tim winced and surged forward to support her weight a little.

She huffed and grabbed the Takis. He set her down.

She crossed her arms. “I said I could get it.”

“I trust you. The shelves? Not so much. Do you want to die crushed under a bunch of chips?”

Her halfhearted glare morphed into a grin. “If I die any other way you have to promise to resurrect me so I can do it again.”

He rolled his eyes. “How about I resurrect you and you try not to die again for a while?”

“Hm… I guess that’d be alright.”

Then, at the laundromat, Tim saw a bunch of Two Face’s henchmen. How did he know that they were henchmen? The black and white suits kind of gave them away.

He was just wondering whether it was worth it to try and call Duke over so they didn’t risk something happening when he realized that Marinette had slipped over to them.

But she wasn’t concerned as she offered some of her detergent. “Hey, if you need to wash lights and darks together like that… you’re going to need a different detergent. I know those are cheap but there’s a reason for that.”

“Isn’t that just an old detergent problem?”

“No, separating every single color into a different load is. But, if you want to do pure black and white like that… you don’t want to risk it.”

Then she turned and glared at another goon, who was pulling their luckily still okay clothes out of the washer.

“You’d better not be putting that in the dryer.”

The sheepish look on the henchman’s face was answer enough.

She huffed. “That is airdry only why would you do that --?!”

And that’s how they ended up friends with -- and possibly under the protection of? -- a bunch of henchmen. Tim had to admit, they were really nice when he and Marinette weren’t trying to get them thrown in jail. He almost found himself slipping and hoping that Frank managed to achieve his mob boss dreams. He actually did offer to babysit Sam’s kids while she had a shift because she seemed very stressed.

“Tim, darling, do you even know how to take care of kids?”

Tim didn’t know whether to blush because she had called him darling oh my god or due to embarrassment at that massive oversight.

“Uh… would you be willing to help?”

Marinette gave him an exhausted look. “I’ve only ever babysat one kid at a time without their older sibling being there to help.”

He quickly changed the offer to paying for a babysitter. Sam was thankful regardless.

When everyone had finished laundering their clothes to Marinette’s satisfaction, the two of them headed back towards her apartment.

Tim changed the position of the laundry basket on his hip so it didn’t dig into him as much. “You know, you didn’t have to help them.”

She snickered. “First of all, you’re absolutely wrong. I couldn’t just sit by and watch them ruin their clothes right in front of me!”

He rolled his eyes, trying to hide the fond smile on his face. “And second of all?”

“Secondly…” She let him into the house and closed the door behind him. A cheeky smile formed on her face. “Well, they’re henchmen. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to have them on our side in case things go wrong rather than indifferent to what happens to us?”

It was here, with her smiling in front of him, intelligence sparkling in her eyes and the necklace he gave her hanging from her neck, that he realized that he was going to fall in love. He might not be there yet but, if they continued doing things like this, he was sure he would.

He wouldn’t mind that, he thought, as she leaned forward to take the basket from him, pressing a kiss to his cheek on the way over. He watched her disappear to her room, no doubt to fix whatever damage he had done while carrying it that would be invisible to anyone but her. He shoved his hands in his pockets and went to start up the coffee machine.

~

There are no botanical gardens more beautiful than the ones in Gotham. Whether that was because Poison Ivy herself tended to them or because they were kept in tip-top shape to appease her, Marinette didn’t know. Whatever the reason, it was gorgeous and Marinette had gotten quite a few different ideas. She pretty much had an entire spring collection planned out…

It was unfortunate that she’d gotten ideas for a spring collection in the middle of autumn, but she was ignoring that.

Now, they were sitting on her couch. They needed to relax after all that walking around on top of a rather exhausting night the night before (Scarecrow had broken out of Arkham to start preparing for his Halloween Party). She was completely in his space in an attempt to mess with him. It, unfortunately, didn’t seem to annoy him as he lazily rested his head on top of hers.

She huffed a little but allowed it.

He fiddled with the settings on his camera, biting his lip.

She looked down at the camera and asked: “How’d you get into photography?”

“... it’s a kind of personal story,” he said carefully. “A little sad, too, I guess.”

She tried to pull back, an apology on her lips, but he just rested an arm around her shoulders and held her close.

“It’s fine.”

She nodded as much as she could with the head resting on top of hers.

They were silent for a long time. She tried to relax herself. There were no akumas in Gotham, it was okay to accidentally upset someone and it was okay to ask them if they wanted to elaborate. They were people, people are supposed to feel sad sometimes. It’s healthy.

She took a deep breath before curling more into his side. “Would you like to talk about it?”

The arm around her tightened almost imperceptibly. “I… I guess I can, sure.”

“You don’t have to,” she said quickly. In fact, she might be a little more comfortable with that. Emotional conversations weren’t a Parisian’s forte.

But he sighed and shook his head. “It’s fine. Our relationship can’t progress all that healthily if we never tell each other anything.”

Yikes. Way to accidentally call her out on the fact that she hadn’t formed a healthy relationship in years, Tim.

“Not that I’m all that great at healthy relationships,” he said after a minute.

At least she wasn’t alone, she supposed.

“No easy way to say this, I guess… my parents weren’t the best. They’d go on trips -- they were archaeologists -- and I’d be left home alone, usually for months at a time.”

She cringed internally and took his hand in hers, rubbing comforting circles into his palm.

He sighed lightly. “So… I was lonely, obviously. I started by taking pictures of my parents. Sometimes it was all I’d have of them for months. They could leave, but the pictures weren’t able to.”

She felt him bury his face in her hair.

“I started following the bats after a while. I don’t know if it was because I wasn’t sated by pictures of just the two of them and decided to expand, if it was because they had a happy family despite a distant father and I wanted that for myself, or if it was because I wanted my parents to find out and be worried about me, or a mix of all of that… but…”

She slowly moved the camera off of his lap and pulled him into a hug. “But?”

He was silent for a bit, thinking over his answer. He shrugged and wrapped his arms around her. “It was an old coping mechanism. A way of feeling connected to people when I couldn’t actually be.”

“‘Was?’ What changed?”

He laid back on the couch and she allowed him to pull her down beside him. “People around me… started ‘leaving permanently’.”

She winced. Oh.

“It hurt a lot more to look at the pictures after that. It just felt like a reminder that I was alone.”

She frowned. “But… you’re taking pictures of me, now.” Her eyes widened. “Shit, did I accidentally trigger --.”

He shook his head quickly. “No, no. Well, kind of, but it’s okay! Every time they’ve died, it was because of some sort of shortcoming on my part. I think I’ve learned from all my mistakes. You… I won’t let you get hurt, okay?”

Marinette didn’t know how to respond. On one hand, she was pretty sure that she should be assuring him that, even if she did end up dying, that he shouldn’t blame himself… on the other hand, she had no intentions of dying and she was pretty sure it was nearly impossible for her, so maybe it was a good thing that he had chosen to protect her of all people? Maybe the problem would solve itself?

She didn’t know.

She carefully took his face in her hands, pulling him to look her in the eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay, darling?”

He gave her a tentative smile. “I sure hope you’re right.”

~

He had been asked to stay the night. Her excuse was that she was almost done with an outfit for him and she wanted to give it to him the second it was done and, by the time it would be, it would be too dark to go out safely.

Tim kind of felt bad that he had worried her but he wasn’t going to turn down the offer of staying over and watching her finish the outfit.

But, first, food. They dropped a million takeout menus on the desk. A long silence stretched between them as they looked at all the options.

“... what do you want?” Asked Marinette.

“I’m not in the mood for anything in particular, you?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, do you want anything?”

“I don’t want anything, what about you --?”

This continued on for about three minutes before Tim got a brilliant idea. He dialled Damian’s number and put it on speaker.

“Drake. Why are you calling? Have you been hurt?”

“No, Dami, I’m getting takeout and I was just wondering if you had any ideas.”

Marinette gave him an affronted look, but he clapped his hand over her mouth before she could warn Damian that, no, he wasn’t buying food for him he was just going to be an asshole.

“... I suppose I wouldn’t be averse to Chinese.”

“Thanks, Dami! Hope you can get Alfie to make that for you.”

“What do -- ?”

Tim hung up on his very confused younger brother.

Marinette frowned as he removed his hand from her mouth. “That wasn’t nice of you, that’s a kid.”

Tim was not about to get beaten by his brother in both identities, thank you very much.

“Alfred can cook better than anyone in the world, he’s not going to suffer.”

She snorted. “I doubt he can make food better than…” She picked through the takeout papers for a few moments before holding up a menu. “... this place!”

He squinted at the menu. “... I really hope you can speak Mandarin.”

“You’d be hard pressed to find a language I can’t speak, Timmy,” she said, absently dialling the number.

Well, he supposed that explained how a person from France knew ASL and could speak English like a native. Damn. Now he kinda wanted magical god-earrings so he could speak every language in existence.

She spoke cheerfully to the person on the other side of the line for a moment before turning to Tim. “What do you want?”

“Uh… shrimp fried rice?”

She rolled her eyes and flicked his nose. “Alright, fine, white boy.”

“It’s a safe option okay --!”

She wasn’t listening to him explain why fried rice was the best choice for him because she was relaying the order to the person on the other side of the line. She hung up with a smile.

“Food will be here in about three minutes. Do you rich people have small bills or do you just use them for tissues or something?”

He raised his eyebrows. “They go down to a hundred, right?”

She pressed her lips together thinly, clearly unsure whether or not he was joking.

He snickered and shook his head. “Nah, I think I have twenties and fifties…”

“Yeah, that won’t do. We’re going to get robbed,” she said, reaching into her purse.

“We? Didn’t know I lived here, too,” he joked.

She barely even glanced up from where she was counting money. “Honestly, with how often you’re here, you might as well move in.”

He choked. He wanted to say something smart or funny or smooth, instead all that came out was: “You --? I --? Uh --!”

She snickered behind her hand. “Love, relax, I’m just kidding. You don’t have to leave your fancy mansion with all your siblings --.”

“Wait, don’t make living here sound even better. I will do it purely to get away from them, don’t test me.”

She rolled her eyes with a grin. “Maybe that's the plan, you’ll never know.”

Tim had exactly zero idea whether they were joking or not anymore. The tone and reactions made him pretty sure they were kidding, but… what if they weren’t?

He was just gathering the courage to ask when the doorbell rang, pulling their attention to the food. She continued counting for a second before running to the door and swinging it open.

He walked up beside her awkwardly as she chatted politely to the guy to take the food inside. He knew, logically, that Marinette was actually way stronger than he was… but his stupid brain saw a thin, short woman in need of someone to help her carry things. So, he took it from the guy with a smile.

The delivery guy glanced Tim up and down before asking Marinette something. She laughed and gave a shrug. Tim did not know what was going on but he felt vaguely insulted.

He was definitely learning Mandarin after this.

The moment the door closed he whined about being insulted. She looked amused.

“You know what he said?”

“... no,” he admitted.

Her lips twitched.

“... you’re not going to tell me, are you?”

She snickered and leaned over the two bags of food in his hands. “So, you got the fried rice, right?”

“Mariiiiiiii.”

“Your food is going to get cold.”

“Beeeaaaan,” he complained.

She raised an eyebrow at him, a blush spreading across her face. “Bean?”

He grinned, feeling heat creep to his own cheeks. “I don’t know, I couldn’t think of anything for a nickname. First thing I thought of was coffee beans, so: Bean.”

“Wow, you’re such an addict,” she teased.

He continued pouting at her until she gave in.

She leaned forward to press a kiss to his nose. “He asked if you could use chopsticks or not so he could get you a fork if you couldn’t.”

He felt the blush on his face deepen. “Oh… I can’t.”

“That’s fine.” She grabbed a tote bag from the floor of her pantry and pulled out a set of plasticware.

He blinked. “... you keep plastic forks?”

She shrugged and tossed the bag back in her pantry. “Plastic forks, grocery bags, napkins, a few sets of chopsticks…”

“... why?”

“Some of us are minorities, darling.”

“What --?”

~

She hummed tunelessly as she worked.

Tim had fallen asleep on her shoulder. Had most of this been an elaborate plot to make him finally get some sleep? Possibly.

She didn’t feel all that bad, though. With how much he overworked himself both as Red Robin and as Tim Drake-Wayne… honestly, she was beginning to doubt that he slept at all. And, really, if a vigilante coffee addict with a magically enhanced physique is worried about your sleep schedule, you’ve got problems. Intervention was needed.

Don’t get her wrong, though, she was going to make up for lying to him. She’d move him to her bed and leave a cup of coffee for him on the bedside table. Maybe she’d even make him breakfast, it depended on how tired she was in the morning.

But that was for when she was done. For now, she was working on the last part of the outfit: she needed to lace up the corset. His posture needed a little work and she didn’t have the heart to tell him that to his face.

… besides, corset vests are cute. She wished more guys would wear them.

She smiled to herself as she pulled the last bit of lace through and tied a loose knot. Done.

She looked down at Tim. Loose strands fell in his face as he slept. The tiny wrinkles in his forehead disappeared, making him look much younger. His lips curled into a slight smile at whatever he was dreaming about.

He looked so genuinely at peace. She hated that that was abnormal for him.

She couldn’t help but worry a little about what he’d said earlier. He’d claimed that the reason he had gone up to the top of that building the day they’d met (as Tim and Marinette) was to scout out a location for photography, but now that was seeming like a lie because he apparently preferred taking pictures of people over locations… so, why was he up so high? He’d known it was illegal to be there, so she doubted he thought anyone else would be…

She swallowed thickly.

She didn’t think his mental state was that bad… but, just in case it was, she waved Tikki over for a bug and sewed it into one of his sleeves.

Tikki was looking at her disapprovingly. Marinette ignored her.

It was Ladybug’s job to make sure everyone was doing okay mentally, and she wasn’t going to fail a person she cared about of all people.

His head slipped from her shoulder onto her stomach and she sighed, trying to lightly push him off without disturbing his sleep. It didn’t work. He made a quiet sound in the back of his throat and buried his face in her stomach, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

Well, this is her life now.

… she supposed it wasn’t so bad, though.

[tachvintlogic]

Nightwing and Black Bat went down the chute and found themselves...

in the first room of this labyrinth Riddler had hidden the hostages in.

"Seriously?! We're back at the beginning!"

"No, it's a twice twice," said Black Bat.

"A what?"

"It looks like the same room, but it's not. There are... different traps. They take advantage of your knowledge... from the first room."

"Well, we should always be cautious of course," he said as he reached the checkerboard tile where pressing the wrong switch activated turrets. Without thinking, he stepped on the tile that had been safe before.

"Wait!"

But it was too late. His foot depressed the tile activating a trap. He dodged to the side anticipating a turret, but Black bat grabbed Nightwing and dove to the floor. He was about to shout a protest when he saw the thick metal beam swinging down from the ceiling just barely miss them thanks to Black Bat's quick thinking. Had he dodged like he had for the turret it would've hit him in the face.

"How did you know that was there?"

"I told you. It's a twice twice," she said cheekily.

He stood back up, "yeah, guess that means there's a different solution."

"Obviously," she said, looking at the ceiling. It was made of rows of steel metal beams. It hadn't meant anything in the first room, but now that design choice was clearly to disguise this new trap.

Instead of looking for a new solution to the tile puzzle, they located the joints that allowed the ceiling beams to swing down and got some stuck midswing to expose the plywood behind them. Breaking through the plywood allowed them to climb into the space between rooms and find both the hostages the Riddler at the end of the maze.

Nightwing grabbed Riddler before he could escape. "You were doing so well Nygma. What's the manner? Can't make escape rooms as deadly as you want them?"

"How did you see through my same room trap?! I specifically designed it to make sure anyone would get turned around! There's no way you could've known it wasn't the same room!" shouted the Riddler as Nightwing handcuffed him.

"A Twice Twice is a... classic troll tactic."

The Riddler paused and stopped struggling. "A what?"

"Check out mario maker troll levels when you can," she said.

"Oh, is that from the last game night? Sorry I missed it."

"No, from twitch streamers. We could play... some troll levels for game night. I'll have to pick them beforehand."

"Are they hard?"

"No, you just need... lots of patience."

------

Internet access at Arkham Asylum was incredibly restricted and always monitored. However, that had never been a problem for the Riddler.

He searched for "mario maker troll level twice twice" and found a video that seemed to be exactly what he was looking for: "Larl Does Everything Twice Twice (HOW DID HE KNOW?) | Troll Contest #2 Winner."

He watched the level creator masterfully troll "Larl" using the concept the Black Bat had recognized so quickly.

While objectively it was an evil level, this "Larl" was having fun. He was enjoying the level, even as it was killing him, even when he was forced to replay the entire level.

He watched other players play more troll levels. It was so antithetical to good game design... and yet they loved it. They were laughing at the level and at themselves for falling for its tricks. Even when it was diabolical, even when the level was so evil they banned the level creator from their chat, they were having fun.

It reminded him of his own game of cat and mouse with the bats, except here it seemed all the rules were known. The players knew all the mechanics, and the trolls would only utilize something truly outside of intended mechanics on rare occasions. The rest was just a masterful show of creatively from limited resources to craft the perfect trap.

In a way, it made some of his own traps look like cheapshots. Of course no one could locate the button hidden behind the fake panel that perfectly blended in with the rest of the wall. Meanwhile, every player knew exactly what an ON/OFF switch did, and if hitting it opened up a pipe that launched a winged muncher into their face, then that was on them. Of course no one would've guessed that unassuming floor tile was the entrance to an oubliette. Meanwhile, everyone knew what blocks were breakable and which weren't, but that didn't make new passages opening up any less surprising.

He wanted to do that. He already had some ideas using the mechanics he had learned just from watching, and there were some traps he had used against the bats that he was certain he could recreate for his own troll level.

These twitch streamers and youtubers seemed like they would be more appreciative of his art than the bats or those tourists who think they're clever enough for his puzzles, and unlike escape rooms, there were no limitations to how deadly he could make these traps.

He had to buy this game once he was cleared for release. No, he had to make his own game that taught the player all its mechanics that then turned evil in the later levels. He wanted to do both. The thought of making "Larl" scream his name in dismay made him positively giddy.

The Riddler as a Mario Maker player

I have seen posts about how the Riddler would love to be an escape room designer. It's a great outlet for him that lets him show off how smart he is, make people solve his riddles, and all without being illegal.

But there's another outlet that I think he would thrive in. One that would let him ramp up his deviousness.

Mario Maker Troll Levels

If you aren't familiar with the Mario Maker scene, the troll level is a level whose goal is to constantly trick, misdirect, and kill the player in fun and amusing ways. A good troll level strikes the perfect balance between mischief, deviousness, fun, and humor that allows the troll maker to kill the player over and over again while keeping the player from ragequitting and leaving them hungry for more.

The Riddler would probably love making troll levels, playing with user expectations to lay the perfect trap, to shove the player into the obvious death pit, to build the next diabolical antisoftlock, to create a labyrinth with so many twists and turns that the player doesn't even realize if they've beaten the level until they see that "Course Clear!" banner.

I think he would be the kind of Troll Maker that would get his account banned because his levels kept getting reported for glitches.

[batboyblog]

How’s the following for a potential years long story angle;

The Titans as a whole gotten a streak of rather very bad luck.

Nightwing’s secret identity was found out by Bludhaven’s crime bosses who, insurers of exposing said secret id, proceeded to make Dick’s life miserable and frame Nightwing for a heinous crime he’d didn’t commit, winding up with a large bounty on him.

Red Arrow and Troia have been in the middle of a schism between taking more ‘proactive’ (read: harsh and punishing) methods in crime fighting and traditional ways respectively. Eventually Roy gets so fed up with it, he quits the Titans, takes the Codename of Arsenal and makes a team of antiheroes which includes Cheshire to basically prove his point. (Lian’s alive and well in this version of events and is at the moment here staying with Donna as per Roy’s request)

And Tempest is undergoing a mutation of his powers he once cured as Aqualad that unless he can recreate a cure he can’t remember, that mutation can kill him.

Eventually Garth and Wally have a unorthodox solution to both the mutation issue and the Arsenal issue: travel through space and time via the Cosmic Treadmill to the era of the Original Fab Five Teen Titans and ask if they would like to help them with their problems. Their choice entirely. The Fab Five, to Garth’s and Wally’s surprise, decide to come along ti the future. After a run in with Arsenal’s antihero team, the Fab Five make a vote whether to stay and help this future in anyway they can or immediately head back to their home time period….they unanimously vote to stay.

Thoughts on this?

hm, I will say it does remind me of the time that the OG X-men got time traveled back to the future to meet their own all growed up selves

second point, Dick being blackmailed, I feel like Dick has too many friends? is too emotionally open at this point, he'd tell people and they'd fix it

but I kinda dig the idea of a villain who knows who Dick is but Dick doesn't know who it is and they're fucking up his stuff. Maybe frame Dick for something, not Nightwing, but Dick Grayson so he goes to prison, no one knows he's Nightwing but he's still stuck in prison maybe he's breaking out at night to still do his job and try to clear his name but day time he's in the clink

I do dig the rest, I'd push it more, find something to do with Wally, basically the whole team is broken up, everyone is lost and miserable that way when we get the younger team back again it's more of a contrast and they can be like "what happened to you guys?"

[illumiru]

Written By MARIKO TAMAKI and MATTHEW ROSENBERG, Art by DAVID LAPHAM

"We don't choose who we save, Bruce. You treat the patient who needs your help."—Thomas Wayne

"Shadows of the Bat" begins here! In the prelude to January's epic new Detective Comics event, Mayor Nakano has signed off on the construction of a new Arkham Tower in the heart of Gotham City, and the Bat-Family is torn. Batman has long seen Arkham as a necessary, if flawed, cog in the gears of Gotham City—a temporary solution to larger problems that in many ways mirrors his approach as Batman. Nightwing, however, who grew up watching Arkham mutate into a villain factory, believes a different approach is needed. But Bruce and Dick will need to see eye to eye on more than just Arkham Tower, as a new villain known as THE MAEGER MAN wreaks havoc in the streets and becomes the embodiment of Gotham's broken system!

Talked about this on twitter but I'm actually also kind of hopeful about this comic? I think the premise is interesting with putting Dick and Bruce slightly at odds with each other. Mariko is a good writer so I think I can trust her to write this with at least some nuance. Not sure about Rosenberg.

Anyways, I can actually see how both sides will probably have a point. Very interested to see how Dick's upbringing influenced his view on how Arkham should be handled. I think that's a lot better than acting like Dick has never thought deeply about his actions in fighting crime at all and how to help. (*cough* Taylor)

Like he's using his experience as a vigilante here and as someone who grew up in Gotham. I don’t know yet what he will propose be done that's different from Bruce especially in the past, I do think Dick tried his best to clean up Arkham during his time as Batman? That should be canon again because of Infinite Frontier, right?

Either way, I'm excited to see how Mariko and Rosenberg will portray a flawed system and how the villain is supposed to represent that.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

What Will You Fall For?

Read here on AO3!

Summary: 

“Either you choose, or I make the decision for you and they both die.” The man lowers his pistol to point at Damian’s temple. The boy looks more offended than scared, given that he’s stuck next to Tim with a gun being waved in his face as if he doesn’t deal with this every night. But they aren’t vigilantes right now. They are Bruce Wayne and his sons.

“Choose.” “Put the gun down.” “Choose.” “Please. You don’t have to do this.” The man’s grip on the gun tightens. Bruce doesn’t recognize him, didn’t recognize his face when he first burst into Bruce’s office. Wayne security must not have been paying attention when he got into the building. Bruce barely looked up at first when the door to his office opened, too preoccupied with Damian and Tim arguing on the leather sofa, antsy for Bruce to drive them home. Bruce never anticipated that his day would end like this. “Either you choose, or I make the decision for you and they both die.” The man lowers his pistol to point at Damian’s temple. The boy looks more offended than scared, given that he’s stuck next to Tim with a gun being waved in his face as if he doesn’t deal with this every night. But they aren’t vigilantes right now. They are Bruce Wayne and his sons.

“You and I can settle this ourselves,” Bruce says. He’s standing behind his large oak desk, not daring to move forward in case the bastard gets trigger happy. “If it’s money you want, I can get you some. I don’t care how much.”

“You think I want your money?” The man turns, aims his shaking gun at Bruce. Bruce doesn’t mind, as long as it’s not pointing at his boys. “It was your job to clean up our city. That’s what you said. All of your programs, all your fundraising to fix up crime alley, you promised to help Gotham. And then my son dies in a gang war, all because Bruce Wayne failed him. You failed him.” “I am sorry for your loss, truly. But this isn’t the solution.” “This is justice. If I have to lose my son, then so do you.” The man swivels again, his gun pointing right at Damian’s chest. Tim’s eyes widen and he looks desperately at Bruce, pleading for him to get them out of this. Damian, meanwhile, just scowls. “That’s right, cower behind your big gun. Why don’t you put down the weapon and fight me like a real man?” “Now would be a really good time for you to shut up,” Tim hisses. “No one asked for your opinion, Drake.” “He’s pointing a gun at your chest. I think I have pretty good reason to speak my mind right now.” “What, is someone scared of a little bullet?” “Why do you have to be such a prick all the time?” Bruce wants to tell them to stop, that now isn’t the time for their ceaseless bickering. He pressed the emergency button under his desk to signal their allies five minutes ago, so someone must be on their way to get them out of this. All they have to do is keep him talking until help arrives. Bruce already watched two people he loved get shot in front of him. He’s not about to witness it again. “It’s me you have a problem with, not them. They’re just kids. If you want to shoot someone who deserves it, then shoot me.” Bruce has enough bullet scars to play endless connect-the-dots. So long as the man has poor aim, Bruce is pretty sure he has a solid thirty percent chance of survival. He’s willing to take those odds. “Sorry, Mr. Wayne, but you don’t get off that easy. You deserve to feel the pain I felt when my son died.” He pulls the hammer back, raising the gun to point between Damian’s eyes. “Your time is up. Pick who dies, or I’ll kill both of them.” “Bruce,” Tim says. His eyes are narrowed, far too calm for this situation. He gulps when the gun twitches his way but doesn’t break. “It’s okay.” Nothing about this is okay. All of Bruce’s stashed gear and weapons are in the locked cabinet across the room. If he tries something now, it means a bullet through his ten-year-old’s brain matter. “He’s just a kid,” Tim agrees, as if reading Bruce’s thoughts. That’s when it finally sinks in what Tim is really talking about. “It’s okay. I won’t blame you.” “No.” “You have to choose one of us.” “I said no.” “You would rather lose another child?” He’s talking about Jason. That’s as low a blow as Tim knows how to give. “You’re my child too. I’m not losing either of you today.” Tim’s gaze is firm when he turns to face the man. “Shoot me.” “Tim,” Bruce snaps. “It’s me or Damian, and I’m not letting him die. Do it,” he tells the man. “Kill me.” “This is ridiculous,” Damian spits. “Really, Father, this idiot probably couldn’t hit a target with two eyes and a—” The air cracks with a gunshot, followed by a grunt. Bruce’s entire body goes numb and for the second time in his life, he can’t think. His entire mind goes blank, like it’s been reset to its default settings. He can’t move. He can’t speak. He can’t breathe. He scans Damian for the bullet hole, the blood, but he doesn’t find it and he should be relieved. Why isn’t he relieved? Bruce’s eyes flick to his other son and his lungs feel like they’re being squeezed in a giant fist. Blood pours from a spot in Tim’s chest, staining his white shirt in red splotches. No. Bruce barely has time to move before suddenly a batarang crashes in through the window behind him. It sinks into the man’s shoulder, making him shout and drop the gun. That turns out to be the push Bruce’s brain needed because he lunges into action. He delivers a punch so hard it rattles his skeleton and sends the man sprawling on the floor. Nightwing swings in through the shattered window. “Sorry I’m late. Is everyone okay?” “Father,” Damian says, drawing Bruce’s attention. His small hands are pressed against the wound, trying to keep as much of Tim’s blood inside of his chest as possible. Blood slips between his fingers anyway with every wheezing breath Tim takes.. “Get a medic,” Bruce orders Dick. He balls up his suit jacket and pushes away Damian’s hands, pressing the jacket to where the blood is pouring out. Tim’s face is contorted in pain, but he doesn’t make a sound. “Tim, are you with me?” “Is...is Damian okay?” “You shouldn’t have told him to shoot you. That was the stupidest thing you could have done.” “What should I have done?” “Not let him shoot you.” “Then it would be Damian instead. Is that—is that what you want?” Bruce doesn’t answer. It’s not what he wants. He wants all of his children safe and alive for as long as he can enforce it. What’s happening now, this isn’t fair. This isn’t justice. Tim coughs, wet and hacking. Blood stains his lips and chin. Damn it. There’s blood in his lungs. He doesn’t have much time. “Stay with me, Tim. Dick’s already called the paramedics, they’ll be here soon.” “Y’shouldn’t...shouldn’t use names. Identities.” Bruce looks over to where Dick has already cuffed the shooter and is dragging him out of the room. The security guards must be running late, their second failure of the day. Bruce is going to have to do something about that. “It’s not your fault,” Tim says. At first Bruce assumes he’s talking to him, but then he sees that Tim’s glazed eyes are actually on Damian. Damian, who is doing his best to push down the emotion he feels. Damian, whose hands are covered in Tim’s blood. “I know. This is all your fault.” Tim laughs, but it’s weak. “You’re just a—just a kid. You h-haven’t lived yet.” Every breath is a wheeze, Tim’s chest jerking painfully under the pressure Bruce applies. It won’t be enough. Tim needs a hospital now. “Hey, Bruce? Tell the others—” “No. You’re not dying.” “I might.” He’s too pale. How much blood has he lost? “You’re not. I won’t let you. Now shut up and keep breathing.” Tim’s eyes droop. “S’always weird...seeing you scared.” He coughs again, weaker than before. More blood splatters on his lips. “Don’t die,” Damian tells him, gripping Tim’s hand tighter and sounding too much like the child he is. “I swear to god, if you die, I will go to Hell myself and drag you back. You’re too annoying to die. Got it?” The corner of Tim’s mouth lifts. “‘Kay,” he whispers. “I’ll do it for you.”