#just felt like getting steph out of gotham for once!

[wh0dunit]

⁽ ʷⁱᵗⁿᵉˢˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵛⁱᵉʷ ⁾ . . . * featuring @potpourris ( nightwing )

gloves on her hands don't stave off the urge to bite down nails.  not even the frankly disgusting taste and weird texture give her a second thought. not when she's this worked up. stephanie has almost chewed a hole through the thumb by the time her own brain quiets enough for her to get a word in edgewise. " guessing that oracle gave you a heads up. "

if she had her way, she'd have been in and out in hours and without having to tiptoe through all the red tape. who knew vigilantes had so many rules dictating their inner workings? but not an option! everyone seems to forget so easily how well she'd fared on the streets long before there were one too many bats breathing down her neck. it's a blow to already crumbling pride, even if unintentional.

" look, i know this is your turf and all. cross my heart not to cause structural damage. " finger does indeed trace marks over her chest. her other hand is behind her back with fingers crossed. not intentional deception, just a childish excuse in case things go sideways . . . or upside down, or topsy turvy. " but i'm sure there's someone out there that needs you a lot more than i do tonight. "

[ew-selfish-art]

DpxDc AU: Tim as a child was never given a lot of information regarding the scribbling messy handwriting that appeared over night all over his arms- naturally he came to his own conclusions.

Tim Drake was home entirely alone at 9 years old and was about to go out for the night to test his brand new long exposure camera lens when he sees the writing on his arm. It’s not English, like he assumed it was at first, but it was using the alphabet to represent… Tim isn’t bad at math but this formula is complex for his little genius brain.

Looking at his camera, he decides he can spare a moment to look it up, solve it, and get back out into old town Gotham in time for Batman and Robin’s final patrol lap. He does just that, finding the problem to relate to some aerospace engineering and then quickly deduces what laws and theorems need to be applied. He finds a pen, writes down his findings in much neater handwriting onto his arm, and goes out. It’s barely a remarkable night at all. He gets a much more memorable photo of Robin roundhouse kicking a hench person.

Things just continued on that way. Tim would find some complex math, physics or chemistry prompt on his arm (surrounded by various question marks or notes or sad faces)- he’d answer it as best he could and move on with his life. Perhaps his parents were manifesting these pop quizzes? Perhaps his subconscious felt guilty about abandoning his studies for more Bat related pursuits? Tim really didn’t care to think much about it once he became Robin- there was too much on his plate and too many peoples problems for him to fix.

Notably, however, after the attack at the Tower, the pop quiz appeared and Tim wrote back that he wouldn’t be able to find an answer to this one. It was the only time Tim questioned the markings appearance and it was because the next thing that appeared was “Hope you feel better soon.”

… his parents wouldn’t include that on a pop quiz. Cursed then. Tim decided it must be a curse, whatever, he’d deal with the implications later in life.

Tim then has the worst year of his life, hes 15, no longer Robin and the questions from his curse are getting less math oriented and more… philosophical. A lot of mentions of death that, in hindsight helped him actually grieve, and a lot of theories about dark matter and souls. Tim answers back as best he can but he’s drained and his answers aren’t very good in his opinion. He gets minimal feedback.

It all comes to a point that he’s at a family dinner, Bruce is at the head of the table, Jason has promised just to stay for dessert, Damian hasn’t thrown a single insult his way and Steph was laughing at him- when a new theoretical model appears on his arm.

“You’re just as bad as Bruce, Timberly. Hiding a soulmate from all of us, how fucking typical.” Jason points out, while watching Tim scribble back some math with a question mark onto his arm.

“A what? No, this is just a curse. I get pop quizzes every now and then.” Tim bats away Steph who rapidly approaches and began to analyze his arm (the rest of the family isn’t far behind).

“Drake. Explain how you came to this conclusion.” Damian seems more curious than anything, if his lack of insults was anything to go off of.

“Since I was young I’ve had at least weekly math check ins, I never had a parent or anyone else around so I assumed my parents had me cursed to ensure I stayed on top of my studies. Sometimes it’s physics or chemistry, for a while there it was a ton of philosophy and behavioral psychology.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Master Tim, I believe the lack of adults in your life has led you towards a false conclusion. That is most certainly a soulmate mark. The individual to whom you are responding is undoubtedly your other half.” Alfred attempts to calm the room before explaining to Tim. Tim isnt sure if he believes the butler, though Alfred only very rarely lied, so he grabs the pen once more. He writes his first question back: “Who am I to you?”

The room waits in anticipation and within moments a brand new line appears on Tim’s arm and he is vindicated: “We do math together???”

——

The reason Danny is failing English is because his built in homework helper sucks ass at metaphors and has apparently never read any classic literature. The tutor on his arm is great at puzzles and math tho.

Danny gets a reply back one night that he wasn’t expecting (Who am I to you?) and he mentions it to Jazz. Who goes insane that Danny didn’t even question it and just went with “meh, probably haunted” as his explanation for the phenomenon for all these years.

Apparently, if Jazz was right, he had a soulmate who was uh, super fucking smart. That was an overwhelming thought.

The next day Danny is in crisis mode and writes back “Wait, WHAT AM I TO YOU??? Can I help on your homework??”

Danny gets vindicated when the writing on his arm presents a shit ton of dates and information for an unsolved Gotham cold case. See, Haunted.

———

Eventually between Danny becoming the top candidate for astrophysics at Wayne Enterprises and Tim Drake being outed as having contributed tips to the GCPD that solved cold cases- they meet and realize just how dumb they’ve been.

[fandom-lover-extra]

DC X DP: Taking The Cake - Dead Tired

This had to take the cake.

Tim had noticed a couple of odd things about his boyfriend.

One: His boyfriend had an unusual cold temperature-- Tim had originally assumed it might just be because he had poor circulation in his blood stream. But as winter creeped in and his boyfriend still didn't get cold? Not only didn't get cold, but thrived in the temperature? Tim considered just maybe his boyfriend was a meta.

Danny had never mentioned being a meta. But Tim hadn't mentioned being Red Robin either. Not to mention, this was Gotham, so Tim understood why Danny may be a tad apprehensive as to mentioning his colder temperatures.

And if Tim kept the thermostat at a lower temperature from then on any time Danny came to visit? Well, that was his business and nobody else's.

Two: His boyfriend was abnormally quiet. Danny had managed to sneak up on Tim and a few of his family members before. He had managed to sneak up on Cass. And while, on some level Tim could understand his family's apprehension, he felt telling them to promptly 'f*ck off' had also been justified. Tim knew Danny, and Danny genuinely hadn't meant to sneak up on them. 

He had seemed just as startled as them when they shot up in surprise. (And maybe he did ask Cass if Danny was genuinely surprised. His boyfriend was a little sh*t and would totally pull something like this to laugh at. It was his business and Cass's and as far as the two of them were concerned, Danny was perfectly fine.)

Three: Danny was oddly protective. He freaked out anytime there was a Rogue attack and he hadn't heard back from Tim. And while Tim was touched, he hadn't exactly appreciated the mini heart attack he received when he saw Danny out in the field looking for him in a panic.

(That was one of their first big fights. Tim didn't want Danny out in the line of fire, he could take care of himself. Even if Danny didn't know that. But Danny had been just as insistent that he needed to hear back from Tim to know that he was safe.)

They'd reach a compromise. Tim made sure to always respond to Danny's text messages asking if he was safe during a major rogue attack. (Never any phone calls. Danny would know he was lying then.) And he would put up with Danny coddling him the next time he saw him. While it was a bit frustrating, Tim was still touched by the worry.

Four: Danny had enhanced senses. At first, Tim didn't really notice. But eventually, he saw how Danny would flinch at particularly loud noises. Would avoid crowds like the plague. Would sometimes have to wear sunglasses because it was "too bright". Tim never said anything. Never called attention to any of these occurrences, just attempted to help his boyfriend through it.

Tim knew it was a possibility that Danny was just sensitive to those types of things. But considering Tim was sure that Danny was some type of meta, he was leaning more towards that theory.

Five: His boyfriend was unusually strong for someone that looks as much like a twig like him.

Once when Tim had been injured particularly badly during patrol, he had practically been put on bedrest. Not because he hadn't attempted to go out the next night, but because Danny had found out he was injured and came to take care of him while he was injured.

When Tim had attempted to sneak out that night, luckily he had yet to change into his Red Robin suit, Danny had basically manhandled him back into bed. With absolutely no effort, even with Tim struggling against him. Not that Tim had struggled much, with how frazzled his brain had been when he realized that Danny was stronger than he realized.

And if Tim invited Danny to the gym next time he worked out? Well, that didn't have any ulterior motives, no matter what Steph insisted upon.

And now for number six. This took the absolute cake. The last thing Tim had expected. And at this point? Tim wasn't so sure that Danny was actually even human. Which means he would have to completely scrap his theories on his boyfriend and start over from scratch.

Because right now, Tim and Danny were cuddled up on the couch in Danny's apartment. They were having a series marathon of the Star Trek series. It had started out perfectly fine. It had started out as normal.

A weighted blanket on top of the two, Danny cuddled up to Tim, with a bowl of popcorn in-between the two. Eventually, they shifted. The bowl of popcorn ending up on the floor with Danny on top of Tim on the couch.

Absentmindedly, Tim began running his fingers through his boyfriend's hair, not really paying attention to the background noise of the TV. He was just so warm and felt safe with the added weight of Danny on top of him. The movements of his finger's being just as much as a soothing motion to Tim as it was to Danny.

And at first, Tim hadn't noticed it. Not when he was slowly drifting off to sleep. But as the sound got louder, Tim couldn't help but notice. Danny was purring. 

Tim blinked and he blinked again. Not once stopping in his ministrations as he blanked out. Danny continued purring away, leaning into Tim's touch, his eyes closed and a content smile on his face. Tim couldn't help but be reminded of an overly affectionate cat. Especially when he rubbed the space around Danny's scalp and ears, Tim was convinced the was purring louder than the sound coming from the TV at this point.

So maybe he wasn't human after all. Maybe Tim should have given more weight to Damian's alien theory.

But right now, Tim was tired, and he was sure he would remember in the morning.

In the end, Tim allowed Danny's presence to send him off into a warm and comfortable sleep.

(And if Tim proceeded to take apart his theory board and contemplate just how to ask his boyfriend about the fact that he wasn't human? Well, that was his business and nobody else's)

[kimberly-spirits13]

Break Ups and Make Ups

Jason Todd x reader

Synopsis: Jason breaks up with you to keep you safe only to get saved by you a few weeks later.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Jason being angsty

Word Count: 3233

Jason couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in a bed that felt too large and dreamed of futures he lost from his grasp. Every night was the same. He’d spend his energy patrolling to forget you, drag himself through his apartment, and then come to the realization that he was entirely alone the second the AC hit in the face. What made him even angrier was that it wasn’t even your fault, not entirely at least. To Jason, you were the epitome of perfection and had done nothing wrong. You were meant to be protected at all costs and Jason was sure that he could never protect you when you were with him. Every body he saw, every victim of Gotham he encountered had your face. Maybe it was a fragment of his delusion that caused him to worry so intensely, but to him, it came out of a place of real possibility. 

That’s why he broke it off with you when things started getting serious. All he really remembers from that day was you screaming something he doesn’t remember (or tries to forget) at him and telling him to leave. It was the worst day of his life, and he would have died a thousand times over again to avoid it ever happening. He’d never seen you so upset before and hated that it was because of him. Every night, this was what he saw before he fell asleep, and once sleep had finally taken over there was no rest from his regret. He’d dream of all the futures you could have had together, bringing newborns home from the hospital, you, walking down the aisle with tears flowing from everyone’s eyes, and the endless possibilities of bliss that he threw away that night. 

                  That was what was keeping Jason up last night. He was exhausted, struggling to stay awake as the cycle of regret repeated every time he shut his eyes. 

                  “You alright Jaybird?” Dick asked, standing in the mirror adjusting his tie.

                  “Fine.” Jason gruffed in response.

                  Jason was sitting in one of the many armchairs in the manor staring at the window, brooding. Usually, he’d hear your laughter with the girls from down the hallway, joking about whatever appealed to them at the time. Tonight was different and all he heard were the voices of his sisters, sometimes bringing you up, lamenting the loss of your presence. 

                  “Do you think she’ll show up eventually?” Steph asked, “I mean she kind of has to for press.”

                  “I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t” Jason heard Barbra reply, causing him to cringe.

                  He was in the wrong for breaking it off with you. Jason saw that now, regretting the pride that came in with thinking it was only up to him to keep you safe, or that you couldn’t play some part in it. To your credit, you’d survived Gotham for so many years before meeting him, even as a socialite. Why did he think it would be any different? 

                  “You know, it would be worth just talking to her.” Dick said, “If that’s what you’re brooding over. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re brooding over.” Dick said.

                  “It’s none of your business.” 

                  “Yea, not really, but you’re acting like you’ve been tossing up the idea of swan diving off Gotham Bridge.” Dick chided, “So maybe you should talk to her. Sounds like she didn’t want to break up anyways, so you’d probably have a chance.”

                  “She’d kill me.” Jason replied coldly.

                  Dick didn’t say anything in response, but Jason knew what he was thinking, “Yeah, and right now, you’d deserve it.” 

                  When the car pulled up to the carpet at the front of the gala, it was all Jason could do to not sink and melt into the floor. There would be plenty of questions from reporters asking where you were. It had been three weeks since he dumped you and the internet had been stirring. 

                  “Just walk past them.” Dick said, “And don’t beat anyone”

                  “No promises.” Jason answered, stepping out of the car, and giving his hand to Cassandra to help her out.

                  Cass nodded at him giving him enough signal of, “I’ll walk with you.” 

                  Reporters and fans shouted at the family. Jason wished that anyone else was the center of attention, but instead all the questions were centered around his relationship with you. 

                  “Where’s Y/N?” 

                  “Are you and Y/N still dating?”

                  “Why haven’t we seen you together?”                   Bruce managed to shove in front of Vikki Vale to protect Jason from her invasive questions and everyone else made their way inside. The lights of the flashing cameras faded through the crowd inside the gala. Jason felt like all eyes were on him. It was one of the first times that he felt like hiding in a corner, wrapped up in a ball at one of these events. Women with hair overdone and plunging V-neck dresses approached him, assuming that he was no longer off the table. It’s not like they cared when we still dating you whether it was appropriate to hit on him. 

                  If you were here, you two would be making fun of everyone here acting like they were on top of the world instead of the true trash of Gotham, but you weren’t, and now he was awkwardly standing next to Dick ignoring the conversation he was engaged in. Jason was pretty sure they were talking about something related to Wayne Enterprises, but he focused on the bitter cold at his side where you were meant to be on his arm. You’d be making some comment about an increase in recent sales for some company WE were working with, and he’d be staring at you wondering how he got so lucky. Now he stares at the floor wondering how he got so stupid.

                  “Dude, you look like a dog that just got its favorite toy taken.” Dick said once the person he was talking to left.

                  Jason left out a gruff in response. He didn’t have a response to that. Instead, Jason was counting down the minutes until he could leave and go crash in his apartment, though, he wasn’t sure that would be any better. Twirling a toothpick from some fancy snack he just endured, he thought about what he’d do if he tried to make it up with you.

                  “Seriously, go home, take a shower, and call her.” Dick urged, “We all know she liked you; you’re just going to have to explain a few things.”

                  “She probably hates me.” Jason answered, running his hand across his face, “I can’t blame her though.”

                  “Maybe she hates you, but maybe she’s just waiting for you to get your head out of your butt.”

                  Before Jason could respond to that, he heard glass shattering in the building and gun shots echoing. He looked towards Bruce, trying to gage whether they would spring into action. Bruce was busy ushering guests out of the building and not paying too much attention to where everyone else was. Dick and Jason ducked for cover, trying to see where the shots were being fired from. As they scanned the room, they saw a dark gas creeping towards the table where they were situated and there was nowhere to run.

                  “Tim’s still on the mission with his team.” Dick said

                  “Can’t blow our cover.” Jason responded, “Isn’t there that new vigilante running around town that Bruce has been trying to pretend he isn’t working with?”

                  “And you think that will help?” Dick snorted,

                  “You’re right. We’re screwed.” 

                  You were currently speeding through the streets of Gotham, riding at full speed towards the hotel where the gala was tonight. Bruce had asked you to avoid it since all the others were on a mission or at the gala. It was a precaution he had in place just in case something happened. You were still bitter about what happened with Jason. He was an idiot. Jason thought you had no idea of his persona as Red Hood. He had no idea that you were the recent vigilante in Gotham, Batman took in for your skills. Here you thought Jason would be a better detective. 

                  Flying towards the police lights, you pulled your bike near Gordon’s patrol car and jumped off, helmet in hand. 

                  “What do you have?” You asked.

                  “We’re waiting for Batman.” Gordon replied, “Hostages have been released other than the Waynes.”                   “Batman’s not coming.” You countered, “He’s on a mission with the League.”

                  “He never told me about that.” 

                  “You think he’d tell you about a classified mission with the League?” You lied, “I’m all you have, so get over it.” 

                  “You really are with the Bat.” Gordon sighed, “Bane sent his men to capture the Waynes and is demanding a ransom of $1 billion.”

                  “He does realize that most of that is kept in separate investments, right?” You mumbled.

                  “Apparently he doesn’t” “He’s got them in an east river warehouse and will begin executions at 12am. First one to go is Jason Todd.” 

                  You looked at the time blaring on his phone, beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead, “Two hours.” 

                  “Surely he doesn’t think we could retrieve $1 billion in two hours.” Gordon responded.

                  “I don’t care what he thinks as long as you convince him that the money is coming.” You said, “I’ll recover the Waynes.” “Keep him ignorant, it’s our best option.” 

                  The drive felt like hours even though it was thirty minutes through the traffic. All the while you were thinking about what Gordon said, “First to go is Jason Todd.” You were still upset with him, but that didn’t negate the fac that you loved him. Jason breaking it off with you felt like someone tore your soul out of you. You were pretty sure once you explained everything to him, he’d understand, but you didn’t have the energy to track him down and convince him to listen to you. Serving around a slower driver, you sped onto the side road that led straight into the warehouses. Bane has a usual point of operation here that you were sure he was staking out in. He wasn’t the most intelligent guy on the block, but it was too risky for the special ops team to come flying into the building with such a threat. 

                  You haphazardly parked your bike and sprinted towards the warehouse you knew they’d be in. The comm in your ear began buzzing and you clicked the button to turn on the feed. 

                  “He’s about to start executing.” Gordon said.

                  “What? There’s still an hour and a half left?” You whisper yelled, “Did your men screw it up?” 

                  “Haven’t found out yet, Bane has demanded that the time be dropped.” “Are you in there?”

                  “Almost, how much time do I have?” 

                  “Fifteen minutes.” Gordon replied. 

                  “When I knock him out, I expect that you put him in the most uncomfortable cell in Black Gate.” 

                  “Without a second thought.” Gordon said, confidence lacing his voice.

                  There were 10 guards outside the warehouse heavily armed. Bane must have been juiced up which meant he was more confident in not needing security, just someone to collect the money and bring it inside. If you were on your own, you’d probably kill them all and let GCPD handle it, but you were in Batman’s turf and had to respect his bounds. Instead, you opted to tranquilize them and leave the clean-up to GCPD to save time.

                  “I’ve got 10 unconscious out front, make sure they’re in cars before they wake up.” You said, “Don’t come in with sirens and lights on.” “I’m going in”

                  “Understood.” Gordon responded quickly. 

                  Going to the roof, you looked a window down to see Bane dragging Jason with a bag over his head, to the front of a room where a camera was. There was one other man with a mask on holding a rifle pointed to where Jason was now kneeling. He ripped the bag off Jason’s head to show reveal him with a busted lip and a fresh bruise appearing on his jaw. He must have said something that rubbed one of the recruits the wrong way. Your heart began to race as you watched in horror. With your boot, you kicked the glass once and watched as the shards fell to the ground. From below, Jason heard the crashing of the glass and didn’t look up in case it was falling on him. A loud pop echoed through the building and the sound of metal hitting the floor sounded in his ears. Another shot was fired and after a few seconds, the man standing behind him stumbled backwards and finally fell. 

                  With the immediate threat to Jason neutralized, you jumped down, landing on Bane’s shoulders. 

                  “You picked the wrong day Bane. I’m not in the mood” you said.

                  “I’ll kill you all!” He screamed, reaching his arms around his back, trying to grab you off him. 

                  “Is that the most intelligent thing you can think of right now, big guy?” You laughed.    

                  Reaching into your utility belt, you pulled out a large knife and positioned to cut into the tubes that pumped his venom. Before you could do that, Bane reached around and grabbed your leg. With a grunt you were thrown to the ground but recovered quickly. Jumping back up, you ran towards him, launching yourself in the air to kick his jaw. A tooth flew past you and blood began to run out of his mouth. These were the moments you were grateful for steel-toed boots. Bane stumbled for a moment before regaining his strength and barreling towards you. You ran back from him, giving yourself space and leading him to a place where you could get back on top of him. He started reaching his arms back again causing you to glide your knife over his arm. Blood was drawn again, and he recoiled in pain. Taking this opportunity, you ran the knife through the pipes, venom spewing out everywhere. He fell back right as you flung yourself off him and out of his reach. Quickly, his muscles started constricting and falling back into their regular form. It was a disgusting sight to and you found yourself grimacing at the sight. 

                  In the commotion of it all, you weren’t aware that the camera had knocked over. Bruce and Dick were still sitting patiently, waiting for you to uncuff them. 

                  “Target neutralized, I’ll bring out the Waynes and Bane.” You said into the comm.

                  “Got it, ETA five minutes.” Gordon answered 

                  You grabbed the keys that were hanging on the wall next to where Bane had been standing and began to uncuff Bruce and Dick. 

                  “You always manage to get yourself into trouble, don’t you?” You asked, a smirk evident in your voice despite your mask.

                  “You know it.” Dick said.

                  “Thanks for the rescue.” Bruce stood up as you helped Dick off the floor, “We can drag Bane out. It seems you’ve got some explaining to do.” 

                  Jason was sitting and staring at the wall, contemplating his life. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you could bet it was something about being glad he broke it off with you after something like this happening. You watched for a minute as Bruce and Dick dragged Bane out of the room, giving you two a moment.

                  “Jason.” You said, trying to get him to turn around.

                  “You gonna uncuff me?” He asked.

                  “I was getting there.” You knelt behind him and unlocked the cuff.

                  The clank of metal quietly rang out. An awkward silence fell, and you weren’t sure what to do so instead you started assessing injuries. You moved to kneel in front of him and examined his lip and the bruise that was getting darker by the second.

                  “Anything feel broken?” you asked.

                  “No.” He moved away from your touch, something that hurt your heart, “Who even are you? Batman’s new recruit?” 

                  “Jason- do you?” You huffed and began to pull off your mask, “You’re an idiot.” 

                  Once you had your mask off, he started at you, lost for words. So many emotions ran through his eyes, confusion and then realization being the two most prominent ones.

                  “Y/N?” He asked bewildered, “How did you keep this from me?”

                  “I figured you knew, Red Hood.” You said, tucking your mask under your arm.

                  “You knew about that?” 

                  “You’re not very inconspicuous about it, Jason.” You laughed, “I mean every time patrol ended, Red Hood would head in the direction of your apartment and then you’d drop by thirty minutes later after taken a shower and typically with some sort of wound dressing. Plus, it helps that I went to the cave a few times.”                   “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, hurt lingering in his voice.

                  “I realized you probably didn’t know anything about it and planned to talk to you about it but you kind of dumped me before I got the chance.” Your smile faded and was instead replaced with a stoic look. Jason knew you were upset, “What do you think I was yelling at you for?” 

                  “I thought you were just yelling because you were mad.” He answered, shame now replacing his look of hurt.

                  “Yeah, I’m pissed with you. I feel like you thought I can’t handle myself, even if you didn’t mean to come across that way. I was trying to get you to stop so we could talk about it. You were bound to get in and get out.” Tears began swelling in your eyes and you quickly wiped them away. 

                  “Y/N I’m so sorry.” He said.

                  “Yea, so am I.” Your head hung low for a second before you picked yourself back up, not wanting to break down in front of Jason right now.

                  “No, it’s not your fault.” Jason grabbed your hands, “This has been the worst few weeks of my entire life. I can’t live without you. Day and night, you’re the only thing I think of. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything right now. I’d rather die a thousand times over than not have you.” 

                  At this point you started crying and Jason grabbed you, pulling you into his chest. You cried into his suit that was already ruined by the dirt and tears from tonight. He was crying to, no matter how much he didn’t want to be.

                  “I’m so, so sorry Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just thought this was best for you. I didn’t want you ending up hurt or dead or- I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”                   “Jason” You laughed through tears, “I’m a Gotham CEO, I was already unsafe by myself.” 

                  “I didn’t think about that.” He said, making you laugh more. 

                  “Do you think you’d have me back?” Jason asked, a now solemn look coming across his face.

                  “Yes, absolutely.” 

                  Jason pulled you into a kiss that felt like it lasted forever and once it was over, he rested his head in the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply.

                  “I missed you so much.” He said. 

                  “I did too.” 

                  Jason’s family was going to be ecstatic about this. They probably weren’t going to let him live down you realizing he was Red Hood before he realized you were a vigilante.

[makethatelevenrings]

Day 4: Breeding Kink w/ Dick Grayson

survived work, here's some smut

Kinktober Masterlist

“Yeah, I think the dancing skeleton might have been too much. Dude, are you even listening?” Tim’s voice carried over the shrieks and giggles of kids as they filled the grounds of Wayne Manor. It was their annual Halloween celebration for the children of Gotham’s foster care and while Dick thought it was a fun event, his attention was focused on something entirely other than the crowd of kids.

You were standing next to Stephanie and chatting about something, but it was the toddler currently fast asleep in your arms that caught his eye. The kid was in some kind of Sesame Street costume or whatever the fuck kids watched these days and you were dressed up as a classic witch. Steph held your big pointed hat so it wouldn’t slump over and bump the sleeping kid. The little Cookie Monster had hid behind the legs of one of the older kids the second they stepped off the busses, but she had emerged out of her hiding place once you offered her a smile and asked her about her costume.

Now she was fast asleep in your arms as you cradled her, looking both incredibly comfortable and intensely protective over a kid you just met.

And holy shit, Dick felt his heart skip a beat. The blood in his veins was rushing so hard that he swore he could hear the roar. There was just something about how naturally you reacted to the situation that…

“Holy shit,” you gasped against Dick’s mouth as he pushed you back against the door. His lips moved down your jaw and then to your neck and then he was latching on and leaving a hickey that was sure to last. You fisted your hand in his soft black hair and moaned at his constant attention.

“Baby, what’s this all about?” you whined as his kisses dipped lower on your chest. You were changing into pajamas when he pounced on you like a panther after its prey. His fingers dug into the soft skin of your hips and he ground his clothed cock against your leg.

“Not that I’m complaining,” you added. “But you’re acting like you will die if you don’t fuck me. Did you get hit with sex pollen?”

“No,” he grunted. His fingers fumbled with the drawstrings of your sweats and you giggled before helping him untie them and push them down.

“Then what’s going on?”

He raised his head and you met his eyes, dark with lust and burning with desire. Your breath caught in your throat as Dick leaned forward and inhaled your sweet scent before he settled his lips against the soft skin just above your pulse.

“I wanna fuck a baby into you,” he sighed. “I want to see you and know that I put a baby in you. Wanna see you all round and want to touch you and know that you’re mine. I want every person that looks at you know that I fucked a baby into you.”

Your legs pressed together as want built in your veins. You grabbed the back of Dick’s hair and forced his head up so he could meet your eyes. “Don’t hide from me, Dick. You want to fuck me raw? You want to knock me up?”

He nodded, his eyes hazy with desire and his lips parted with labored pants. “God, I want it so bad.”

You shoved him back and made your way to the bed. Lying down on your back, you spread your arms out and sighed. “Well, Grayson, aren’t you going to fill me up? It might take a few tries to stick.”

[luvly-writer]

Crimes of a Mother

Ch. 1: She’s our shadow

Batfamily x Reader

-•-

Author’s note: I did NOT think this story was gonna get amount of love it did because i’m so insecure about it but wow!!! Thank you so much!!! I truly am grateful for your love for this! Thank you Thank you!! I think it will become a short series so if you’d like to be added to the taglist, leave a message! Here’s chapter 1, Enjoy!!!

Warning: English is not my first language

Taglist: (i’m starting the taglist with the people who asked for a part two <3) @nxdxsworld @give-jack-a-lightsaber @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @can-i-feel @n4muar

Masterlist:

-•-

Subject name: Yn Wayne Salazar

Age: 18

Mother: Valentina Salazar (alias, the Golden Serpent)

Father: Bruce Wayne (alias, Batman)

Skills: High level of expertise on criminal investigation, Bilingual, Photographic memory...

Weaknesses: [empty folder]

Education: [CURRENTLY UNDERGOING] Bachelor in Criminal Journalism

Motive for investigating: ???

———

-“Nghhhh”

Bruce mutters as he leans back and rubs his eyes. The Batcomputer displayed a series of pictures and the beginning of a subject report on Yn. The last few weeks have been interesting to say the least. After her visit to the manor, everyone aside from Bruce and Alfred had been curious on who this unknown girl and had been trying to get either of them to spill on who she was. Normally, they would have let it go by now, they reason (lies) ; but after seeing Bruce and Alfred pale as a sheet of paper, they knew this wasn’t just another of Bruces small secrets

After much perstering, Bruce finally caved in. (Barbara found Vals note as she was managing the commns. He left it there after having to rush out and stop Tim from strangling Jason and Damian for lacing his coffee with a laxative. In their defense, they are trying different ways to help Tim get more sleep and lay off coffee. In Tim’s defense, he had to miss two days of patrol because his stomach wouldn’t hold anything...alas, the life of a single father)

To say that it caused a raucus withing the family is an understatement. Jason, Stephanie, and Tim couldn’t stop laughing about Bruce having another kid. Barbara and Cass were just glad they had another girl in the family. Dick was contemplating whether he wanted to leave or stay for the drama and risk meeting another version of Damian. Duke was trying to console Damian who stayed in catatonic shock for a few moments seeing as he had an actual blood sibling. Bruce had figured that if he had all of them on the lookout for her, she would be safer plus, they would be able to get the largest amount of information about her together. This had proven to be somewhat difficult seeing as Valentina had made sure to leave no trace of her their daughter’s existence in Gotham.

The following weeks after the debrief were anything but boring. They had been made aware that they had a shadow during patrol. Tim, familiar with the situation, had taken note of it first. Yn was good. She kept hidden, had the stamina to keep up, and most of the time could almost accurately predict their next move. One time, Tim, Dick, and Jason had decided to go on a coffee run in the middle of a stakeout. They hadn’t seen her all night and decided to leave Steph, Damian, and Duke in charge while they went and ordered. Lo and behold, there she was in a booth in the back sipping some coffee and typing on her laptop. They hadn’t thought anything of it seeing as this coffee shop normaly stayed open till late hours of the night due to its proximity to Gotham University and students constantly went to study there as classes had started. It wasn’t until Dick made eye contact with her that he felt chills down his spine. Her eyes were trained on them like a predator to its prey, still, unmoving, and absorving everything. He had called out to Jason and Tim; and once they turned to look ate her, she was unintimidated by the three figures, with her head leaning on one hand and her other holding her cup. She raised a delicate eyebrow at them and just stared. They figured the girl had her mothers looks but good grace, she was Bruce Wayne’s Daughter. To be more specific, she was the Dark Knight’s daughter and her eyes were a key give away of that. Not even Damian, with all his devil spawness, could recreate that piercing gaze.

It wasn’t only as vigilantes. She would be seen with a notebook in the back of Bruce’s conferences and interviews, eyes cold, calculating and focused as she observed and wrote down. It was known she was targeting Bruce and he didn’t know whether to feel some sort of twisted pride or to be concerned.

Back in the present, Bruce had never felt so frustrated. Why was this kid here? Was this a cruel trick of fate where she was destined to cross his path? Was he finally believing in something as simplish as fate and destiny? What was her investigation? What did she wanna know? How much did she know? Was she sleeping and eating? Were her grades slipping? In a moment of fatherly worry he hacked into Gotham's system and found her students bio. Classes had started two months ago...it really had been two months since he had met her? Her grades were perfect. Exams aced, projects and homework all As, she had taken a few college credits in high school so she had advanced in some of her classes and skipped the basics. She truly was brilliant.

-“I finally get a Wayne in university who has the intention of finishing it.”

Exclaimed Alfred as he walked closer and interrupted his thought process. (He would forever be salty that neither his “son” nor his “grandkids´” had gone or finished college.)

-“She's a brilliant kid.”

-“Well she ought to be. If I remember anything about her mother, I'd be worried if she wasn’t”

He corrects and Bruce scoffs a laugh.

-“She’s been tailing us for weeks, yet not a single bad score.”

-“It almost sounds as if you’re proud, master Bruce”

-“I....I barely know her”

-“Let’s fix that then, shall we? Invite her over for dinner with the family. It is a possibility that all the questions that have you perplexed may find their answer if you get to know her and she begins to trust you”

-"Couldn’t this just be an ordinary investigation without any attachment?"

-“That is your daughter, master Wayne. Better her to be here and protected than out there for her other family to find her and make a move first.”

-“Nghh”

-“Such a cooperative answer, I shall notify the rest.”

----

For all of her bravado, Yn was nervous. It had been two months and a half since she had stepped into the manor. Charlie and Taylor had told her encouraging words as she dropped them off at their respective practices and headed for the Wayne house. She had tried to dress nicely and make a better impression that last time. Had Mr. Wayne seen her at the conferences? Did he know of her nightly investigations? Was he gonna tell her mom?

She parked her car and stepped out. Would dressing up and acting nicer make her look guiltier? She walked up the stairs and pressed the doorbell. She was working so hard on understanding her family and it wouldnt go to waste because of some pissy billionare. She heard some footsteps walking towards the door. She was not going to give up today.

-“Hello, miss Salazar, it is great to see you again.”

---

Dinner had been going great so far. You had been introduced to all of them at once and began small chatter. Everyone had been somewhat pleasant with her, trying to make her feel at ease. She had chalked it up to Mr. Wayne fulfilling some sort of favor her mother had asked of him to protect her and this actittud had passed on to his kids.

-“So, Yn, why Gotham?”

Asked Dick, which made everyone turn to her

-“Yeah, why this dumpster fire of a city?”

Laughed Jason

-“Well -she laughed- I have always felt a connection to Gotham. Like as if something was missing and I knew I would find it here. Ever since I was a child, it had always been my mom and I only, no other immediate nor distant family members. Mom would never talk about the city even though she’s from here and it made me wonder why. I mean, feels like there's a huge part of me that I dont know about and I would like to, even if my mom advices against it constantly. What if I find family here, you know? There's something out there for me and I know it is here. Not only that, Gotham U has the best Criminal Forensics and Journalism departments ever. Of course..that can be because of the high profile of criminality and the amount of rougues running around. My mom tried to advise that Star City and even Metropolis would work but they aren’t Gotham, you know. They don’t have the history, the profile, the exentric rougues, the vigilantes. I mean, who is the Dark Knight? Why does he inspire so much fear? Is he a friend or someone who could potentially face a dark turn? What is his history with his sidekicks? Why so many? Are they human? A failed experiment? Cryptics? It is all fascinating, wouldn't you agree?

They all digested her answer. They all understood and and could relate to a certain level. Her determination was admirable.

-“That's actually...not a bad reason to move to Gotham”

Damian spoke up, surprising everyone. Yn smiled in approval and thanked him shyly.

-“When did you begin to have a passion for investigating?”

He asked again

-“Well, I guess I was too into crime shows? Plus being good at it certainly helps”

She laughs making the rest chuckle

Dinner finished shortly after. Everyone had decided to exchange social media handles and say their goodbyes. Bruce walks her to the door and speaks up,

-“Listen Yn, I am sorry about the thing about your father. I really ca-“

-“I know. You are a good man, Mr. Wayne. I am sorry for being too upfront that day, I tend to be too pushy sometimes during an investigation. I appretiate your respect and care for my mother a lot but...that still won’t stop me. I will find out who is my family.”

-“Well...seeing as nothing can hold you back, I just wanted to let you that our doors are always open for you. You are always welcomed into our family.”

She smiled at the sentiment and he could feel it pulling his heart strings. This is his kid, literally his. She is his daughter.

-“Thank you, Mr. Wayne”

She said as she started to walk to her car

-“One last thing...about your father”

Yn had never turned around so fast in her life

-“Yes?”

The hopeful look in her eyes made him take a step back and consider his words lightly

-“I think...I think he'd be very proud of you. You really are an extraordinary kid”

Seeing the hope fade a little killed him but it was better this way

-“You think so?”

-“I know so”

Her eyes watered a little but she held back. She gave him a nod and a tight smile

-“Goodnight, Mr. Wayne”

-“Goodnight, kid”

———•———•———

I am always open to feedback so remember to leave a comment or a reblogs if you have any suggestions, comments or just want to be added to the taglist!

[animeredhead101]

Danny Gets Adopted DP x DC Crossover

Completed

Run to the Belfry by JollieRancher :

Danny is running from the GIW and lands in Gotham. The only warning he got before things went wrong were the words "Run to the belfry" on a sticky note. He doesn't know what a belfry is, but running is his only way to avoid capture. When a superpowered teen passes out in Batmans arms, Bruce decides to take him home. Word Count: 11,900

Gotham is Haunted by ArtemisMoore :

A kid is running around with jet black hair and impossibly blue eyes. Prime adoption bait for Bruce Wayne. But that's not why he has slowly gotten the attention of the members of the family. Homeless, skittish, disheveled, and quick to help the kid seems to be hiding from something - or somebody. He's scared and they want to know why. But other than his appearance and the name 'Danny' nothing is known about the kid.

At the same time they're dealing with 'Danny' a new Meta appeared in Gotham, a ghost with snow white hair and toxic green eyes named 'Phantom'. He's tired, sad, and just wants to go home. But something is preventing him from leaving. Something... or someone.

What are the two kids running from? Are they connected?

Will the bats find out before either kid ends up in serious trouble?

Word Count: 16,266

Grave Promises by Blueseabird2 :

Danny Fenton had nowhere to go and no one he could turn to without putting them in danger. Except, perhaps, the hero who'd cared for, respected, and trained Danny for all too short a time. Dick Grayson had never told anyone he'd once been trapped in the Ghost Zone. He'd also never forgotten the promise he'd made sure to get from Danny Phantom. Jason didn’t know what was going on but he was really very pissed that there was another kid with a y-shaped scar on their chest and eyes that feel like frozen reflections of home. Thankfully, there were suddenly several new targets for his rage and Dick seemed rather more inclined to join Jason than stop him. Word Count: 53,882

But I will hold on hope, and I won't let you choke by ghostly_frogly :

After the destruction of his hometown and being hunted by the GIW at the age of 14 Danny didn’t know what to do. He debated going to the Ghost Zone and living the rest of his life and afterlife there when he encountered a group of ninjas. The details of how and why are still lost to him but in the moment he fought. He fought and let out as much anger, frustration, and sorrow as possible. His eyes turned green and his fists were shaking and bruised from the fight.

Surprisingly, or maybe not with the life he lives, this isn’t the last time the ninjas come after him. He fights more and more off until he meets the man sending the ninjas his way. He is offered training by a man named Ra’s Al Ghul. Danny jumps at the chance, thinking how he could finally run away from his problems or fully die trying.

or

Danny runs away from everything he's ever known when it is all taken from him. Seeing no better option he joins a cult-like group of assassins. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 6,521

Prankster for Hire by thatshrubbery :

Danny thought he was pretty good at this whole harmless haunting thing. Really, it felt like he was doing good deeds through his pranking. Pull a few pranks on customers, drive up sales for the coffee shop as the rumor mill (correctly) begins claiming the place is haunted. Perfect symbiotic relationship. When Danny can't pass up the opportunity to continuously prank a certain regular, he finds himself being hired as an elite prankster the likes of which Gotham’s vigilantes have never seen. Steph is in love with the new coffee shop in town. The aesthetic? To die for. The vibes? Immaculate. The glitter markers? Genius. So, when a certain straw-stealing halfa steals one straw too many, she takes it upon herself to assemble her own first-class squad of Ghostbusters to handle the problem Batman style and bring one (1) prankster into the fold. Word Count: 46,702

Contractual Obligations by Calix, Tathartiel :

Danny is doing his kingly duties when a demon breaks into a meeting demanding the king’s soul. Now Danny has only a few months to find his birth father and nullify this soul contract or else he becomes a slave to the demon on his 16th birthday.

Word Count: 114,383

It Takes Three Days to Get Adopted by corkinavoid :

Danny is just doing Jazz a favor. Pretty simple favor, actually, check out the haunted house her boyfriend's family lives in. And of course, being the responsible sister, she has already made all the arrangements, so all he has to do is just show up, walk in, look around, maybe kick some ghost butt out, maybe deal with some shades or possessed artifacts. Easy. Wait, isn't this the Wayne manor? No, it's okay. Not every rich person has a weird secret basement, he'll be fine. What are the chances of another billionaire deciding to adopt him on sight? (Damn it, Jazz! You knew, didn't you?!) Just another Danny adoption fic, yes. Word Count: 50,143

Scrawny kid and the Batmobile by PickleofwhichisFickle64 :

Danny on the run from the GIW, stuck as a 10 year old, winds up in Gotham. He spots the Batmobile and decides to add a new feature to it. Dick Grayson is confused as to why a small child is elbow deep in the engine of the Batmobile.

Word Count: 7,185

On-going

Knight of the Boyking by Milaley :

There is a child hiding behind him. A glowing, powerful and possibly ghostly child with a flaming crown hovering above their head but a child, nonetheless. Older than Damian but younger than Tim. They are clutching onto the fabric of his batman cape with one shaking hand, making themselves as small as possible, trembling with fear. There are two guns pointed at Batman by a pair of muscular men wearing white suits and dark sunglasses. These two things are connected. An injured Danny runs to Batman for protection and in turn, makes the Dark Knight's life a lot more complicated. Word Count: 49,196

It may feel like an ending (but the battle's just begun) by NotSoStarCrossed :

He can't believe this is how he’s meeting his bio mother. It was never something he thought he’d have to do alone. — Lois could no longer push her baby into the someday. He had burst, rather abruptly, into the now. OR Lois had a kid she gave up for adoption and Danny can't seem to stop running. OR Danny's on the run after his friends and family were killed by the GIW. After escaping from Vlad he runs to the only place no one will look for him, the home of his birth mother Lois Lane. Word Count: 13,160

Alien Boys by Zylev :

With Amity Park destroyed, Danny falls through a portal that sends him to another Earth. The Justice League assume he’s an alien and treat him as such—but Danny might be more of an alien than he would’ve thought. Based on: This Word Count: 84,756

We Could Be Home by MyNameIsJag :

Danny has been deaged, he is hungry and very angry. Given his tiny body and fluctuating powers, there's not much he can do about that. He has questions that need answers, why is he here, where is his family, what is going on? Also why is everyone so weird? Danny gets thrown into Omegaverse DC, coming from somewhere were that is a fanfiction category, it's a bit of a culture shock. Poor Danny has so navigate this world with new rules he doesn't know or understand. Find a way home, maybe find out what happen to the him from this universe, and try not to get attached. The Batfam are just excited for the new pup in the family. Word Count: 13,385

Ghost King in Gotham (On Temporary Hiatus) by GDogDfeld124 :

Danny Fenton moves into Gotham to get away from the GiW and his parents. Luckily for him he got a scholarship to Gotham University and could move in without trouble. Everything goes haywire when one day while doing his homework he gets summoned. _____________ Planning for this one to be a long one. Trying not to make this crack. Word Count: 74,968

r/AITA for not wanting to clean the BASEMENT? by SaturdayNightFrights :

Danny doesn’t have many people to turn to about the minor issues in his life. So he does what any normal teenager in today’s time does: makes a post on Reddit.

Word Count: 17,091

Found Family by EvaDragon :

Danny Phantom is rescued from GIW by Batman and Superman, panics and runs from the heroes mid-flight back to the Watch Tower. He is then found by Bruce Wayne in Gotham. Bruce convinces the still injured Danny to convalesce at Wayne Manor. After spending time in Wayne Manor, Danny's core overrides his brain, and Danny spills his deepest secrets. Damian, to everyone's surprise, is the first to approach Bruce about adopting Danny, and is also the first to try to convince his siblings about the adoption. Damian's siblings are very much onboard with this plan, as most of them were at the Watch Tower when Danny was rescued. Now they just have to convince Danny that being in a family of multibillionaire vigilantes isn't all that bad. Word Count: 11,375

Experiment 666- project failure by Daemonshadowfox :

Let it never be said, Batman does have a heart. However, taking home the creature brings new issues to the house. Alfred is happy however, he has a new grandchild to take care of and the rest of the Bat-Clan is happy to have someone new to play with. Enjoy the chaos that happens when Danny joins the Bat-Clan.

Word Count: 18,215

Going Broody by bloggerspam :

When a suddenly de-aged Danny meets Black Canary in the middle of a battle, he accidentally ghost-wails at her...except all it does is push her back a couple feet. ....And make her think he's the cutest Lil' Canary in the world. Word Count: 19,866

[ditzyredrobin]

The Calling

Based on my Joker Jr. prompt here.

In which Tim was Joker Jr and is now Red Robin, Dick Grayson is Batman, and Batman is lost in time (and Tim knows it).

This might turn into another series. Who knows. 😂

-

Tim had two and a half hours until his red eye to Heathrow when he heard the Batmobile’s deep purr. It was his last night in Gotham and he needed a chance to breathe.

He would be gone indefinitely, unsure when he was going to be back.

He heard it before he actually saw it. Batman pulled in beside his bike, headlights flooding the outlook. No, no, no, no, this was not what he needed right now.

“Damn it.” Tim hissed, holding a hand up to block out the light.

The engine turned off but the lights stayed on as Dick stepped out, closing the driver's door carefully behind him.

“Tim, we need to talk.”

“Why are you here, Dick? Are you and the demon brat supposed to be on patrol?”

“Damian,” Dick corrected gently and continued. “I wanted to see you. Cassie called me.”

Of course Cassie called.

“Please, Tim, you have to let him go. I know how much it hurts—I miss him too, more than you can understand but we have to keep moving forward. It’s what he would want.” Batman—Dick—was outlined by the headlights, casting long shadows across the overlook.

If it had been Bruce, he would have looked menacing. A monster made of darkness and shadows and fear absorbing the light. But this was the new Batman, who still looked awkward and uncomfortable in the cowl, who didn’t have his voice mastered yet. He sounded too much like Dick and not enough like the Dark Knight.

Bruce had told him once he didn’t struggle with Batman’s voice. He struggled to keep Bruce’s. (And, man, if that hadn’t thrown him through a loop).

He wasn’t sure Dick would ever suffer the same conundrum. If he rescued Bruce in time, he definitely wouldn’t have to.

“But he’s out there, Dick. You’ve seen it over and over again, anything and everything is possible. If you would just listen to what I’ve got-“ Tim started but was quickly cut off.

“No, Tim. You saw his body when Superman brought him back—we buried him. He’s gone.”

He had. The husk of a body that had once been Bruce. It haunted him in the same way Joker’s laugh did, plaguing his dreams, replaying over and over again until he woke up panting.

But that wasn’t always the end, was it? Not in their line of work, at least. Jason was brought back, Steph came back, it was only right Bruce came back too.

He could just feel it.

He wasn’t crazy—he knew what crazy felt like and this? He’d spent over a year in a state of insanity following his early years as Robin and this? This wasn’t it.

“But sometimes they come back.” Tim pushed.

“And most of the time they don’t.”

“But-“

“Please, listen to me, with every fiber of my being, I want you to be right but I—I just can’t, Tim. This time feels different.” Batman’s voice breaks and for a moment he’s all Dick. The mask comes down and sounds like a son who’s lost his father twice over.

“You’re not listening to me. He’s out there, I know it, I know he is.” Tim pressed.

“I’m trying but you’re not making sense! I understand the trauma you’re going through with how much has happened the past few months. I just want to help.”

“No.”

“Please, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” Dick pleaded, wrapping a strong hand around his wrist. “I have someone I want you to talk to, a doctor who deals with issues like this.”

“Issues like what?” Tim snapped, trying to pull his hand away. Dick only tightened his grip. “What issues do you think I’m dealing with?”

Dick sighed, “You know what I mean. You’re slipping, Tim, there’s no use in denying it. I can see it and I know you can too. You’re sick but it’s going to be okay. We can get you back on track.”

“Let me go. Right. Now.”

“No.”

“Let go.” Tim said with more force, using Dick’s grip against him. He squared his hips, using the forward momentum to throw him over his shoulder. Dick landed on his back with a grunt but Tim knew this was just the beginning of their fight.

If Dick wasn’t going to let him go willingly, he was going to force him.

Tim sprung back and away from Dick, who wasn’t stunned for more than a few beats before he was up again. Tim threw a carefully aimed punch that Dick quickly blocked.

“Don’t you think I know how it sounds? I’ve lost everything—Kon, Bart, my dad, my—Bruce,” Tim yelled, kicking out at Dick. “You gave Damian Robin without even talking to me. I can’t trust Steph. My world has burned down once again and you’re only here because everyone thinks I’m crazy—that I finally lost it, finally snapped, but I’m going to prove it.”

“You can’t, Tim. I know how you feel but you can’t keep going like this. You’re starting to sound like him.”

And that was like a punch to the gut. “Like who, Dick?” He didn’t mean…he couldn’t mean…

“You know who, Tim.”

“No, I don’t think I do because if you’re going to say-“ he swallowed hard, bile creeping up the back of his throat. Even after all these years saying his name still made him feel sick. “If you’re going to say Joker I’m going to lose it. Do you really think I’m acting like the Joker?”

Dick didn’t respond, taking Tim’s surprise to roundhouse kick, attempting to swipe his legs out from under him. Tim jumped but it was a close thing. “You really do, don’t you?”

“I just want to help you, Tim, please. I already have care lined up for you. You just have to trust me.”

“Or what? You’re going to drag me back to Arkham?” Tim blocked another hit. Dick obviously didn’t see this as a serious fight which Tim used to his advantage.

“You need help, Tim.” He grunted, catching his fist.

Something about the way he said it made Tim’s heart sink. He didn’t mean it… did he? He couldn’t. But the longer he stared at Dick, the longer he knew he was right. “…you are, aren’t you? You’re taking me to Arkham?”

“It’s not forever. Just until the doctors think you’re stable and then you can come home. Please, Tim.” He sounded genuine, like this was hurting him more than it was Tim.

Funny being Tim was the one who was actually tortured.

“How can you even consider that an option, Dick? You know what he did to me there!” Tim pressed down on the release on his harness, and throwing disks pop into his hand. Dick is fast but he’s faster, throwing what looks like one, but split into four midair, narrowly missing Dick’s face.

“Things have changed since then. There's contingencies in place and the Joker is-“

“Dead, I know. I was the one who killed him.” Tim cut him off, pressing the end of his bo to Dick’s throat. While Dick was distracted dodging, Tim had already released his staff from his belt. “I’m leaving, Dick, and you need to let me go. You said we’re equals, right? If we really are equals, brothers, you need to let me go. Haven’t I earned that much?”

Dick doesn’t respond and Tim sighs, pressing the hidden button on the side of his staff, causing it to collapse and slide back in on itself.

“Take care of Gotham while I’m gone. I—just, try not to let Damian destroy everything we’ve built together as Robin. Batman has given so much for us—for Gotham. If there’s even a chance he’s out there, I have to do this. I have to try.

The keys for his bike were still in the ignition. He’s not sure what hurt worse, Dick not stopping him, or the fact that he thought that he thought he was following in Joker’s footsteps.

He wasn’t crazy.

Bruce was out there and he would prove it.

Tags List (as promised):

@primthegreat , @derp-a-la-sheep

[chibinightowl]

Today has been a day. Just a lot of hospital stress this week between my mom and my husband's surgeries and this is how it's coming out (they're both fine and are recovering well).

~~~

Dick finds Tim in a waiting room at Gotham General, slumped in a faded blue plastic chair that's seen better days. At some point during the day, his brother had been immaculately dressed for the office. But now, his blue pin-striped suit is wrinkled, his collar is unbuttoned, and his shirtsleeves have been rolled up. There was a tie somewhere as Dick knows Tim never leaves home without one on an office day, but it's anyone's guess as to where it currently is.

"Hey. I got here as fast as I could," he says, taking the open seat beside Tim. He did too, calling Wally as soon as he got the news from Barbara. "How's Jason?"

Tim opens his eyes, giving him a look that is more dead than alive. "Still critical."

Pain lances through Dick at the two words. He'd lost Jason once before and the guilt from being off world when his Little Wing needed him the most still ate at him in the darkest parts of his psyche. And now, here he is sitting with another brother he never thought he'd have, one who's been through so much trauma and loss of his own--and who is on the verge of possibly losing another loved one.

A car-pedestrian accident. The gall of something so normal and mundane having the potential to take out the Red Hood--or any of them for that matter--is enough to make Dick want to punch the taupe wall of this dreary waiting room.

To be honest, he's rather surprised none of the others are here yet. Well, expect Bruce. He's off world with the JL and...

Oh.

Oh.

"Do you think Bruce knows yet?"

Tim's shrug is so minute Dick might have missed it if he wasn't watching closely. "Can't say I care right now. He and Jay got into another of their big fights before he left. Said if Jay can't clean up his act, then don't bother coming back."

Dick winces and easily reads between the lines of what Tim isn't saying given their semi-public place. Even in Bludhaven, he'd heard about the execution-style murder of a known pedophile--and that it was the Red Hood who'd done it.

"He didn't do it, Dick," Tim whispers, catching his gaze as tears build in his eyes. "I was there. I know he didn't. But Bruce didn't listen to either of us, said I was covering for him because he's in my pants." Those last words are practically spat out. "I think this is the first time I've ever felt like I hate him. He just doesn't listen!"

That's a feeling Dick knows all too well. He also knows now why the others aren't here--that Barbara called him first because Tim doesn't need just comfort.

He needs his big brother.

Dick slides from the chair to kneel on the floor in front of Tim. "Now that is something I know a lot about." He takes Tim's hands and squeezes them firmly. "I'm not going to tell you it'll get better. I'm also not going to say you need to be the bigger person and forgive him. What I am going to tell you is that I believe you and that I believe in Jason."

Tim's breath hitches and he falls into Dick's open arms sobbing. Thank yous fall from his lips and into Dick's jacket. Tears fill his own eyes as he remembers another time where he didn't believe this little bird, his first Robin.

Time hasn't necessarily dulled the guilt, but it has given him perspective. He'd done what he thought best at the time and owned up to it when he'd been proven wrong--a trait not shared by their mentor and father-figure.

"We'll get through this together," Dick soothes, running a hand up and down Tim's back. "You, me, and everyone else. We're all here for you and we're all pulling for Jason."

As he speaks, he glances up and spots Alfred hurrying down the hall with Damian and Duke in tow. Both boys are still dressed in their school uniforms, so Alfred must have pulled them out early. Behind them are Cass and Steph, hands held tightly.

"We're all here," he repeats, nudging Tim's chin to make him look up. "And we're not going anywhere."

[dairy-farmer]

I once read a fic but now can’t find it where Sasuke time traveled into his child self and seduced Itachi and they ended up having sex and Itachi felt so guilty he killed himself. The bad ending sucks let’s change that.

I could totally see Tim doing that with one of his brothers but please a happy ending!

ohmy god ohmygod that fic sounds incredible!!!! and also something seems so oddly fitting for an emotionally and mentally traumatized person like sasuke to do. and for tim? it fits perfectly.

tim suffers a lot of loss as a result of becoming robin and he never quite stops losing things. even when he gets back bruce. steph, kon, and bart. their relationships are never the same. tim can never fully bring himself to forgive steph and eventually she grows resentful of his lack of trust. bruce drifts further not just from tim but all of them. kon and him just never have a chance to bounce back and same with bart. it hurt to know they outgrow each other. tim takes more hits and more losses.

he feels desperatly alone.

the distance between him and dick is the worst. tim wasn't angry anymore, didn't hurt anymore over the things they both said and did after they thought bruce died. but he's still never able to bridge that gap with dick. dick who had always been there who had been the steady prescense and older brother that took his side when bruce would get on his ass about something.

the loss of dick hurts the worst. even when he tries dick never sheds the bit of awkwardness around tim like he doesn't know how to act with him.

tim has nothing. has no one. so when he's fighting some villain that booster gold and flash had given a strict warning about, maybe he's not being as careful as he could be.

but it doesn't matter. because what was tim trying so hard for anyway. it's not like anyone would be waiting for him when he awoke in the medbay.

only tim doesn't wake up in the medbay, there's no heart monitor beeping in his ear, no triple filtered air or the scent of sanitizer in the nose.

when tim wakes up he's disoriented, blinking brings a wave of vertigo and turning on his side in case he has to vomit makes it worse. tim clenches the sheets under him in a white knuckle grip as the room spins, powering through the dizziness for what feels like hours until it stops.

tim is small. his voice is squeaky, it hasn't even dropped. his hands are soft and his body is a little pudgy from his love of vending machine snacks. he's in his dorm room. his old dorm room from when his parents would still ship him off to boarding school, before he'd spent weeks begging them to let him attend the local public school in gotham so he could begin his training as robin.

tim's uniform is hanging over his desk chair. his desk is littered with candy and snack wrappers and half finished homework. textbooks are lazily spread around the room and tim's old posters of punk and edgy celeberties he desperatly wanted to be were being held up by thumbtacks.

tim is certain it's a hallucination. a very good one. but as his socked feet sink into the pukey colored carpet and he follows the sound of the other boys on his floor banging on doors and then running away laughing when it's pulled open, he becomes less sure.

tim is trained to spot false realities b4ought on by illusion, drugs, or magic. tim didn't want to brag but he was the best at it. he held the unofficial record among the bats as being the fastest to break out of the effects of fear toxin.

tim was just good at knowing his own mind. and tim knew...there was no way his mind conjured this up. the detail, the realism. things tim had completely forgotten about come rushing back as his eyes landed on them.

fuck.

tim lets himself feel the horror, the devastation, the pain, and hopelessness of the situation he's found himself in for a minute. just a minute.

and then he gets to work.

tim was not like the other leaguers, the other heroes, the other people that had fucked around in time, blind to the consequences.

tim was different. he'd weighed the risks. he'd had a week where he'd been in a bad spot mentally and gone through...everything. it helped that he'd had use of an 'odds' calculator that weighed probability in a time line and had used it...just to see if what he suspected was true. it was. it hurt his feelings but it gave him the answers he'd needed to hear. tim hadn't kept that device around. he'd dismantled it and then dumped every piece in a different city around the country.

so tim knows what to do. even knowing what it will cost him he does it because...it was what was right. tim would never be able to forgive himself if he allowed his selfishness to get in the way of what was right.

bruce had never healed from losing jason. it had broken him in a way that he'd never healed from despite tim's best efforts and jason returning....angry and hateful had made it worse.

the charity sheila haywood worked for was easy to contact. tim used the computers in the lounge of his dormitory to gather the financial documents to submit an anonymous claim about her embezzling. prison would do her good. maybe she'd even clean up her act but tim doubted it.

odds that jason todd would never have died as robin had he not gone to ethiopia?? 78.9334%

tim wasn't sure how the math worked out but the fact that jason had been killed outside of gotham never sat right with him. jason had the home field advantage in gotham. no one knew that city like he did. there was no way the joker or anyone would have ever gotten the drop on him if he'd been in gotham.

and so tim saves jason's life and bruce's sanity with the click of a button.

the next thing tim does is submit crystal brown's resume to a number of nurse manager positions in new york. she's qualified and capable with the right experience as a trauma nurse. tim doesn't even have to lie or embellish anything but his years of working closely with the hiring managers at WE certainly help her stand out. crystal caught a lot of flack from stephanie. and tim understood why. her drug addiction, her determination to stick by arthur, stephanie's career criminal father, and the fact that she'd never really protected stephanie from the worst the world had to offer. stephanie had made no secret about her resentment toward sher father. but tim didn't think she even registered the bitterness she held toward her mother.

gotham was poison. and some people never built a resistance to it. gotham weighed crystal down. it made drugs too easy to get so she could never break the habit, it made every probation or release arthur got impossible to hide from because the gotham system tracked family down for convicts so they wouldn't be on the street or clogging up the shelters. the stress of her estranged husband's release stuck her in an ugly cycle of drug use. but she'd never stolen them from her job and that's why tim makes the right moves for her.

new york was unfamiliar but similar to gotham. she'd be cut off from her usual suppliers and out of state so the gotham correctional facility and arthur wouldn't be able to reach her. she'd get better, get sober, heal, do a better job of being a mother to her daughter. steph would never become spoiler. she'd probably never forgive him but if things went right they'd never cross paths.

no spoiler meant no war games, black mask would never beat her to death, darla would never die, babs would never lose her clocktower, the civilians caught in the cross fire would never fall to gang violence.

odds of stephanie brown never becoming spoiler if she left gotham? 89.0005%

with his parents it was harder. if jason lived tim would never be robin...but that didn't mean tim would be able to stop himself from being something else. he was a vigilante through and through. but being one was what had made his father a target. it was his fault he had died.

odds of janet and jack drake dying if their son is a vigilante? 93.3333%

there was no way around it. being near him was a death sentence. and tim couldn't do that to them. but he couldn't just leave. people would ask questions. his parents would be pained if he disappeared and he'd already caused them enough hurt. it's not hard to track down the...thing that lives in the Andes mountains. the thing he and young justice had found a long time ago and left alone because it hadn't hurt anyone who hadn't asked for it. the thing tim had never made a report on because there some things he didn't trust bruce with and bruce had been...unstable back then.

tim has enough money squirreled away for the plane ticket. it's an easy process. the thing doesn't want money, has no use for it. all tim feels is a pinch as his life strands to his parents are severed. tim's baby photos in the family album, his first tooth, his basssinett growing mold in the attic, his parents memory of him being born. it fizzles to nothing like a tablet of alka seltzer dissolved in a glass of water. tim figures he had a few weeks before the school realized an extra student was in the dorms which was why tim had moved his things and an extra bedmat to a storage closet in the school attic before leaving.

when tim returns its only a few days before he finds out his parents have returned to gotham to file for divorce. he'd always figured they'd only stayed together because of him. once they started going through assets they'd probably find out about phil marrin stealing from the company while they're overseas.

while the other students are at class tim uses the computers to finish up his final act. he roughly knew damian's movements at this time due to past conversations. all it takes is some waiting and letting the league tech division believe they've successfully knocked out the cameras of a target's mansion. he zooms in on stills of damian's uncovered face alongside talia and other league members and leaves them in an 'automated' file for the police. he tips off a crooked cop who sells the images to big newspapers and the 'assasins caught breaking into ex-dictator's home!' catches like wildfire.

bruce will be intrigued about the league slipping up and will see the image of damian who looks so much like he did as a child.

odds of damian wayne being accepted by the wider hero community if he'd been taken out of the league earlier? 62.9855%

odds of damian wayne leading a normal life if he'd been taken from the league earlier? 78.5488%

odds of damian wayne being happy if he'd been taken away from the league earlier? 99.9999%

in the end tim does it for the right reasons. he'd like to believe that if his brothers were in his shoes they'd have done the same for him as well.

cassie, bart, and kon would still have each other. cass would find barbara again. helena would find a way to make it in gotham with or without the bats.

they'd be fine. they'd be fine without tim there.

but tim still needed to figure out what to do.

he essentially didn't exist. he had no family. no friends. he was alone.

it's on the announcement of bruce wayne having a child he didn't know about that tim finally breaks down.

he's won. but he's lost. he's lost. he's lost so much and nobody knew. he was a stranger. nobody. he was alone. alone. alone.

tim's not sure how but he ends up in bludhaven. his whole world is packed in a small backpack as he rides the bus to an address he's memorized several times over.

dick doesn't know him, won't recognize him, may even get angry at this child he doesn't know clinging to him.

tim doesn't care.

dick arrives home, after nearly a month away in space, to the realization that someone's been squatting in his apartment.

it could be any number of things that set off his finely tuned senses but the clues were a few specific things.

all of dick's shoes being lined up neatly by the entrance rather than a haphazard pile. one of the lined-up shoes includes a pair of light-up sketchers.

the fact that his dishes were washed and put away but a single mug was on the drying rack still dripping water.

the recently vacuumed carpet that still had lines from where the mouth of the vacuum had passed over it.

the extra toothbrush in a little cup by his sink along with the newly opened bar of soap sitting on the rim of his bathtub that had been scrubbed so well alfred would be proud.

but the thing that really drives it all home is the kid he finds sleeping on his bed.

he's a tiny thing, curled around one of dick's pillows and wearing one of his police academy t-shirts as pajamas. one of the kid's socks has been kicked off in his sleep and he's drooling when dick drops his bag and clear his throat.

turns out the kid had been living in dick's apartment for a little over a week after he left.

the whole thing makes dick feel like the rug has been pulled out from under him. normally dick would be nicer, kinder, gentler about the whole situation because a kid squatting in a stranger's apartment didn't exactly spell good things about his home life.

but dick was tired and stressed and pissed the fuck off because bruce apparently had another kid this one bloodrelated and he hadn't even bothered to tell dick about it. just like with jason he was treating dick like he was some sort of leper.

so maybe dick raises his voice a little.

but the kid doesn't flinch.

he wants to negotiate, he's willing to pay if dick lets him stay. he's already proven he can clean, he can cook too, will dick let him stay? tim can sleep on the couch, do the laundry, buy groceries, he can be useful. just will dick please let him stay?

it makes dick feel bad. the way this kid is borderline begging not to be thrown on the streets.

he can't keep the kid. in no world is that the right move. because dick wasn't equipped to take care of a kid and his life was already enough of a wreck as it was.

so dick lies. tells the kid he agrees to let him stay.

in the morning dick will call a social worker about the whole thing.

dick wakes up to the scent of pancakes and scrambled eggs prepared by little hands. dick has a moment of panic over the whole 'unsupervised kid + stove' before remembering the kid had been cooking in dick's apartment for over a month without burning it down.

dick tries getting some answers out of the kid but getting him to open up is like pulling teeth.

all dick manages to learn is his name.

tim, no last name.

and his age.

10. though dick is pretty sure he's lying about it given the slight twitch of his finger as he says it. impressively the kid has no other tells which means he's either used to people taking his words at face value or he lies A LOT.

dick tries six times to call a social worker but keeps getting interrupted by one thing or another.

somehow rather than calling about the child in his apartment he ends up at a grocery store with tim picking up a new gallon of milk to replace the expired one in his fridge.

tim walks with an odd sort of confidence he isn't used to seeing in children. he holds coupons clipped from dick's newspaper in one hand and sternly holds up loaves of bread, observing them for dents or imperfections, in the other.

his voice is soft and babyish but he speaks with a 'you should take me seriously' tone. it's odd to see coupled with his cherubic face that's wearing a red l.l bean jacket and light-up superman sketchers.

dick carries the small basket of groceries for tim and wonders how he ended up in this situation. he resolves to leave a message to the office of social work in the morning.

he does not.

days pass with dick trying but his attempts keep getting cut off, if he didn't know any better he'd think tim was sabotaging him by running interference.

after awhile dick starts getting used to his tiny roommate.

it's hard to think of tim as a kid, sometimes dick completely forgets he is. if he didn't keep bumping into tim because he forgets to look down to see him it would completely slip his mind.

but tim's company is...nice. he's easy to get along with. he's not put off by dick's bouts of anger which always manages to make him feel ashamed afterward because tim not flinching at someone throwing things and yelling does not say good things about what he's experienced in his short life.

tim is quiet and collected but with a surprising wit that manages to catch dick off guard when they watch some reality TV shows that dick pretends to his friends and family that he doesn't love.

when dick gets ready to go out as nightwing he always checks on tim who is curled asleep on the couch, breathing soft and even.

things are normal, easy.

until dick gets clipped by a gun and stumbles into his bedroom bleeding. he barely manages to reach the bed before the pain knocks him out. he comes in and out of consciousness, eyes blinking at the haze as he feels soft hands strip him and gently feel around his wound.

in the morning dick wakes up on the couch. his side is wrapped tightly and packed with bandages. there's an emptied syringe of lidocaine and an emptied bottle of sterile woundwash. dick's forehead is sweaty but not with fever. his suit is gone and he's in a fresh pair of cotton boxers. he spots tim out of the corner of his eye staring at him. his hands are covered in comically big yellow cleaning gloves and his hair is tied back with one of dick's bandanas. the gray mop bucket holding red stained rags are visible inside the soapy water.

tim's eyes are too big for his face and filled with an almost childlike look that disappears everytime dick blinks.

"your mattress is ruined"

that's all tim says about the situation. despite the fact that he most likely stripped dick of his nightwing suit and patched him up, pretty well by dick's standards, and there again came that throbbing ache at tim's unknown upbringing.

tim knows he's nightwing and somehow it doesn't change anything at all.

if bruce knew a random civilian knew his identity he'd be lecturing dick's ear off. which is why he doesn't tell him about tim.

tim is steadily becoming a permanent addition to dick's side. once he knows about nightwing dick starts talking more about that part of himself. his friends, allies, the stress, the burden, the loneliness. and tim looks at him like he understands and...it feels...it feels like he's a kindred spirit.

dick is talking to tim like he's an equal, another lost and dumb as fuck twenty-year-old and that's a mistake.

the winter hits bludhaven and it's a brutal one. the cold seeps in through the windows and floorboards. dick finds tim shivering on the couch and all but drags him to his bed where he's plugged in the heated camping blanket roy had gotten him for christmas one year.

dick returns to his apartment exhausted and cold and curling up beside a nice warm timmy that's like a hot water bottle brings a sigh of relief to his mouth. the comfort and weight of another person beside him soothes some desperatly lonely part of him screaming for attention.

in the morning tim helps him fix his gear. a manual in one hand that he seems to breezing through while muttering about everything wrong with his gear and wouldn't it be be better if it did this instead of this. dick just pats his soft head and slides him his mug of orange juice while sipping at a warm cup of coffee tim had put out for him

dick grows comfortable with tim, lots his guard down in ways he never does with other people. tim understands him. tim gets him.

tim is 10 years old and dick has to remind himself of that when his eyes linger on the soft expanse of tim's thighs peeking out from dick's shirt.

the realization that his eyes had been lingering slam dick with a discomfort so thick he almost wants to throw up.

tim is a kid. a kid, no matter how much he might act older, no matter how much dick feels like he understands him.

he and tim have been living together for a few months. there's a routine to them. and so dick knows that something has changed.

tim's hands reach for him more, they linger, he presses closer to dick in bed and when they stand next to each other in the kitchen. he sits pressed up beside him on the couch when they watch TV, watch him with big eyes when he comes out of the shower in just a towel.

dick knows a crush when he sees one. he knows he should be putting space between them, not letting tim press his soft mouth to the side of his throat when they sleep. he knows he shouldn't let tim do those things. but he doesn't stop them.

he likes the attention, the affection. he needs it, is so starved for it and tim is the only one willing to give it to him.

dick knows it's wrong, knows he shouldn't.

but dick is so lonely. and he and tim whisper together in his bed at night sometimes. and one night they're pressed close, eye to eye, mouth to mouth and dick tells tim that he's happy he's here with dick. and tim inches forward closing that one millimeter distance between them and presses their lips together. and dick doesn't stop him.

tim's little palm cups his cheek, small fingers stroking the skin as dick starts kissing back. tim's hand works between them, warm and small and drifting into dick's pants. it doesn't take much for dick to get aroused and hard as tim pumps his cock like he's done it before. tim is only in dick's shirt and some underwear.

they slide deeper under the warm covers. tim's shirt dress comes off and so does dick's. his pants are pressed down enough to expose his cock as tim wiggles out of little cotton panties.

dick is guiding their actions, experience making him take the lead as he gently presses a finger into tim's little cunt.

tim makes soft noises, whines, little moans as dick grunts and presses the fat head of his cock in, littering tim's chin and neck with reassuring kisses.

dick slides in with some resistance. the cunt around him twitches, hips under his palms writhe, tim whines in his ear.

dick is gentle, careful fucking tim. he works more and more of his cock in until he can slide all the way into tim in a single thrust.

he and tim fuck under the covers for what feel like hours. tim cums a few times around him. voice weakly gasping out his name while his cunt clenches around him. riding out his orgasm. dick cums too after awhile, the build up slow and satisfying as he lets out an 'mmn mnn' sound against tim's little tits.

dick cums deep inside, cum flooding into a little womb as his entire body clenches and tenses up.

the arousal and brain melting feeling lasts about two minutes before realizes what he's done to the small bodied child underneath him.

dick barely makes it to the bathroom before throwing up.

he's crying- sobbing actually, into the toilet when a soft hand touches his shoulder and dick half leaps out of his own skin.

he tries telling tim to get away from him for his own good but the words come out slurred and rough.

tim doesn't listen and comes closer, gentle hands touching dick's limbs and saying it was okay, that tim wanted it, that he liked it, he wasn't afraid of dick.

tim helps dick brush his teeth and guides him back to bed and dick, aching for someone to comfort him and tim doing just that follows him.

in the morning dick is miserable, self hating, and sick.

he fucked a kid. god he fucked tim.

the kid who'd been living with him, who trusted him, who had a misguided crush on him and dick had taken advantage of that.

he was a monster. he was worse than the people out on the streets who tugged kids into alleyways, at least they didn't mess with a kids mind and think they wanted it like he did tim.

tim who thought he needed to earn his place at dick's apartment. god what if the sex had been tim's idea of thanking dick for housing him?

dick could recall how tim had worked his hips back against dick, fucking down on the cock that pressed into him- that kind of move only happened with experience.

god. the thought that he hadn't been the first person to do this to tim made him sick. he'd found tim squatting in his apartment afterall, how many times had tim done that before meeting dick and how many times had people made him paying that way.

dick feels the bile climbing up his throat again as tim comes to sit beside him.

dick doesn't know what to say, what to do. he knows tim can't stay with him any longer. not after what he's done.

tim protests.

"do you think people not there won't do worse to me? I want to stay with you, i trust you."

"i raped you." dick replies quietly, weakly.

tim purses his lips.

"i wanted it."

suddenly dick feels anger and grief in equal measure come racing forward.

"you're ten years old! you can't want this! i'm the grown creep that took advantage of you! i didn't push you away even though I knew what you were doing!"

tim stares at him.

"you're still a good person dick."

a cry bursts out of dick.

"good people don't fuck children."

and there's no way around that. no changing or justifying it. that's what dick did.

"i haven't been a kid in a long time. i'm different, im...something else. but i'm not a kid."

and the thing is that dick believes him. nothing about tim screams child. he's just...tim.

tim is staring at him with those bug blue eyes. his pretty pink mouth parted. dick's shirt is hanging off his shoulder.

he's staring at tim like his eyes have the answers to the universe as he asks, "do you want me?".

the 'yes' in dick's mind is certain. he wants tim, he wants tim with him, sleeping beside him, he wants to bump into tim in the halls and wakeup to his cooking, come home from the police academy to his dinner.

but dick's body, his mind is telling him no. he can't have tim, not like this. it's wrong. it's not right. it's disgusting. he's disgusting-

but tim's palm is warm and reassuring. and tim looks so certain and sure it's like he can't see anything wrong with dick giving in.

tim always knows what he's doing. what to say. it's like he's so perfectly at peace and knows he can change anything unfavorable at the drop of a hat.

it makes dick feel...safe. safe in the way that dick used to feel when he saw batman as an untouchable man that the world couldn't reach.

so when tim asks dick to let him take care of everything, that it will be okay, that no one but them has to know about this.

tim's hands are as soft as his voice and dick leans in closer for comfort. and with his head pressed to a child's chest and little palms stroking his hair- dick agrees.

[dailycass-cain]

So on January 26th yesterday,  I looked into how the comics had Cass combat her disability in Dyslexia being not able to read and relate words vocally. 

What worked, what didn't, and which era handled the progression better.

At the very core of her very first appearance in Batman #567 by Kelley Puckett and Damion Scott, Barbara Gordon is trying to help Cassandra overcome her disability.  And it is her first words spoken that give her father David Cain pause.

Batgirl Vol. 1 #2 gives us the first look into how Cass really doesn't fully care about learning in either study instead focusing on her new vigilante life. That is until running into Robinson and learning WHY words and writing truly matter.

#5 has her run across a metahuman who has mental abilities and because of those rewires her brain to have the capacity to understand.

It's a cheap copout for sure.  But it gives Cass a voice in her mind along with the capacity to speak better.  Bad news? It screws up her abilities and how her mind was originally wired.

This leads into #6-9 basically being how Cass can get her ability to read body language and learn with the added bonus of her mind continuing to be the way it is.  Enter Lady Shiva who gives her this, but at a price aka the crux of what will lead into Batgirl #25.

Batgirl Vol. 1 #20 written by Chuck Dixon (art still by Scott). Where Cass comes to a drop man who's murdered before he can deliver a ransom. Her lack of being able to read leads her to seek out--

-- one Stephanie Brown aka Spoiler.  I think at this point the reason Cass went to Steph was that she was afraid Babs would lecture her on neglecting her reading lessons (which she would later on).

Tim Drake, she had just fully befriended (#18), but he was close to Babs. So Cass probably figured he accidentally let slip this and she'd be in trouble. Steph wouldn't she was on the outside from the Bat Family (at this time).

The issue does promise of Cass in attaining another reading teacher (which pays off in the most weirdest place, Convergence: Batgirl #1), but this plot point goes nowhere here. Cass/Steph's friendship would intensify for the next ten issues (#21, 26-28).

For the most part, we don't really get to see fully Cass try and fight her Dyslexia again until the Dylan Horrocks' run with #51 where we learn HOW Cass is expanding her word vocabulary via TV but neglecting on reading.

This bit reads its crux with the infamous #54 (i.e. the one that causes Cass/Babs to fracture away from one another).

In the issue, Cass has to deal with a killer robot that's taking out any place that has a copy of a book that has the codeword to shut it down. We learn during the fight, Cass has been neglecting her studies in reading.  Again with the infamous page:

Now Horrocks did this because he was ordered to write Babs off this title (Birds of Prey, the comic Babs was primarily in would be eventually moving away from Gotham). It was the first of that would make the writer leave the comic (and DC Comics altogether).

Regardless again the way the case rattled Cass enough to think about it all and work back into trying to read.

If there was instant positive of writer Andersen Gabrych when he began his run. He made sure this was a reoccurring plot point THROUGHOUT his run starting with #58.

By giving Cass her own diary it enables her better way to try and combat her disability. Along with in the very same issue, Cass trying to actively read a book for the first time on page.

The diary motif would be a hallmark of Gabrych's entire run with the book. So I'm not gonna post every entry. But I think that's why I really loved those first few issues because he covered ALL corners with the character. 

 You saw it all.

Never once did Gabrych use behind the issues trick. This was a struggle for Cass. I think it better helped resonate the character with readers by doing so. It also went down an angle that was different than Puckett and felt like the better next step from what was built on prior.

Course Cass would still have her bad habits of being an avid TV watcher. So the balance of her trying and struggling was a nice touch.

This came to an ironic fully circle with #67 with Babs returning (for one issue) in the comic and the pair hashing out their differences and mending. But it also reveals a further reason why Babs really wants Cass to learn to read. Again, this is probably the best reason.

She knows Cass wants to be Bruce's heir and be Batman. She knows the only way to fully be that is to get fully conquer her disability. And for the second time in her ongoing we get a look in how Cass's brain was wired from her learning from her father and the metahuman.

And we get the clearest answer how Cass's brain truly operates and why the usual methods in overcoming her disability in reading.

That's the final gift Gabrych gave us. 

A hope.

 A small faint hope that maybe Cass could learn with whatever writer would take on the character next. The only thing is even he couldn't anticipate what was to come...

Batgirl was canceled with #73 and well the next time we saw Cass and how this disability was handled came in Robin #148.

Alright, before I go into this portion. Newly minted Robin writer (this was his first issue) Adam Beechen came into comics had zero idea of the character of Cassandra Cain, other than what he was told and found.

The DC Editors on Robin did not help him or assist him. They gave him an edict... and he did that edict without question. The result....

Was this INFAMOUS page from Robin #149. Cassandra Cain the character who had the disability of Dyslexia somehow was able to learn another entire language.

That's not even going with the OTHER problem Robin OYL gave us with Cass (but that's an entirely ANOTHER issue). Regardless after the story arc, Beechen (and DC) realized just how badly he screwed up.

Course, the entirety on HOW Cass was suddenly able to learn an entire language with how her brain understood information. Yeah, this was a plot thread nobody truly wanted to answer when the retcons began dropping after Cass's "EVIL" phase to fix it.

In fact, it was Beechen himself who addressed the issue in Batgirl Vol. 2 #1 amongst the CHUNKS of well exposition and history that was the mess DC made of the character from 2006-2007.

So all those issues Babs mentioned in #67? Cass and Alfred fixed them and for the entire MISSING YEAR Cass made great strides to overcome her disability. THAT'S how she was able to understand the Navajo language.

Look I get what Beechen was doing and I also get we were NEVER gonna get the missing stories to showcase that. But to see an entire character's journey in overcoming her disability fixed overnight?

Even with Beechen giving us a classmate in Sal (who's last name we NEVER learn, and is forgettable male love interest #3 for Cass) who gives us the promise of something we never get from the Vol. 1 ongoing. Because DC was gonna DC.

That's basically it for the original run for Cass. That it was a nice harrowing journey that had its bumps but the character was making great strides to be better. Then well the road bumps began to occur and yeah...

I'll give it to Beechen that he tried at the very least to fix the holes he himself caused. But... in the format given it's just crushing how this was fully handled in the end.

Sadly we got nothing more as DC really did a meh job for about five years? We did get this little nugget in Convergence: Batgirl #1 though (somehow connecting that line from waaaaaay back in Batgirl Vol. 1 #20)...

Which is shocking of all places for Cass trying to overcome her disability, Convergence: Batgirl #1 was not the place one ever would think to find that, but we had that surprisingly.

So when Cass was "reintroduced" into the DCU with Batman & Robin Eternal. A reset was in order and writers were allowed back to square one in how to deal with Cass handling her Dyslexia disability.

I will say this for James Tynion IV and Scott Snyder on how they handle putting a metahuman with mental abilities they just slot that character in #11 by introducing the Sculptor who basically fills the same void the meta in Batgirl Vol. 1 #5 did.

Much like the original metahuman, once this link is established Sculptor nopes her way out of the story and is never heard from again.

Which kind of surprises me, because it's something I figured Tynion would maybe address during his Detective Comics run (that had Cass in it) given how much in #11 and 12 establish the character and her origins. 

But nope. Nothing further.

So yeah, after this we got James Tynion IV's Detective Comics run that had Cass in it starting from #934-981.

Not surprisingly, Tynion really handled the whole disability issue well than those in the past with the constraints he had. Even more so Juggling multiple characters in this book and going down a better avenue than his predecessors.

And that all begins with #953 with Clayface (Basil Karlo) trying to comfort Cass after learning her mom is Lady Shiva.

By doing this. Tynion lays the seeds on how he'll deal with the issue on Cass combating her disability while also cementing the hallmark of this run, Clayface's rehabilitation and friendship with Cass.

#958 we see Basil teaching Cass Shakespeare by playing audio and having her learn to read and increase her vocabulary via that.

It's probably the best thing Tynion did character-wise with Cass by briefly showing us this but fully giving us a more plausible method than prior on how to deal with her disability.

The fact that this hits throughout this arc (as Cass quotes Shakespeare at a good moment) and is carried over until the very end of his run when Cass meets Barbara in #981.

This version of Cass is actively trying to combat her Dyslexia more than her prior versions, and this Cass is actively doing a better job. Even though we don’t get much Babs teaching Cass (though they do work together in the next arc after this that sets up Batman & the Outsiders). But that run doesn’t dig into Cass’s progress instead going into other routes to touch on with the character. 

Unlike what was carried over from Batgirl Vol. 1 to 2 (and between that) Cass has a more concrete subplot here. Where we can SEE and are TOLD of her progress.

That leads us into the current Batgirls ongoing. In #1. where this is a little bit lampshaded. As Cass uses a reading bag to combat criminals to retain stuff she/Steph had that was stolen.

A further bit of subplot is continued throughout and in #4 with Cass now ACTIVELY being a bookworm and reading works of Edgar Allen Poe.

Like it astonishes me that this element of the character has remained actually consistent from point A to B. But it's a nice contrast of things that creators at DC worked on better here than prior.

And no issue highlights that fight of Cass actively wanting to combat her dyslexia then "Sounds" from DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration #1 by Mariko Tamaki and Marcus To.

It's why Tamaki just fully GETS the character of Cass not in every corner of the character.  Why many want the writer to handle the character again.

But Tamaki isn't the only one who did a good job in showcasing Cass fighting her disability and the one that does the best job is Shadow of the Batgirl graphic novel. Where writer Sarah Kuhn and artist Nicole Goux go both literally fighting her disability.

And her actively learning to read and increasing her vocabulary by hiding in the library was absolute perfection.

But it also is a nice avenue (and nod to the past) by focusing on a library since that's the location where Barbara Gordon teaches (and again a nice nod to that character's history too).

Quite literally...

That's another layer to why I adore that graphic novel. Just the layer of dimension to BOTH characters while it gives that nod to Babs, the story is clearly more Cass. 

 Again, Kuhn modernizes everything to perfection.

So there you have the history of Cass and her disability.  And my final gift on this day (which has now passed) to celebrate the character of Cassandra Cain.

[heqvenlymoons]

The Robbery of a Potted Plant

For Maribat March Day 16: Robbery

@maribatserver

Damian was looking forward to a weekend of having the entire manor to himself. 

Dick was in Bludhaven, Tim was working in his office at WE, Jason was sleeping over at Roy’s, Cass was in Shanghai along with Steph and Barbara for a ‘girls' weekend’ or whatever it is they called it, Father was in space somewhere while Alfred was on a well-deserved and overdue vacation. 

That left Damian to his own devices for what was supposed to be a peaceful weekend without his meddlesome imbecile siblings.

He had been looking forward to it and was playing video games (yes, he is capable of such activity) when the unexpected doorbell ring interrupted his solitude. 

Damian set his controller down, scowling at the empty room. He knew his nosy family’s habits and routines like the back of his head, and he was sure no one would return until Sunday night. 

Perhaps Alfred changed his mind and returned because he felt Damian was incapable of tending to himself. Typical of his pseudo-grandfather figure, always putting others before himself. 

Or it could be Todd returning to retrieve something he had forgotten to pack earlier in the day. 

Damian’s eyes narrowed when he heard the bell ring again, somehow sounding louder than the first attempt. 

That wasn’t right. If it were someone from the family, they wouldn’t be ringing the doorbell. 

He made his way out of the living room and, as he did, grabbed his katana from under the coffee table. 

Of course, he wouldn’t put it past Todd to forget his keys, or god forbid he lost it. 

Todd or not, it didn’t stop Damian from clutching the hilt of his katana and hiding it behind his back for a surprise attack. 

If it was one of his family members, they could dodge his attack. If not, how unlucky of the intruder to have stumbled onto the manor’s property. 

The bell rang once more just as he reached the door to crack it open. 

He met with the sight of an admittedly pretty girl looking about his age, with raven pigtails, bright blue eyes that put his emerald ones to shame, and an innocent face that looked like she wouldn’t harm a fly.

His brows furrowed regarding the girl in front of him with suspicion. She could be a delusional fangirl. But he knew better than to underestimate the enemy. 

He tightened his grip on the hilt of his katana, ever so ready to strike if she were to make any sudden moves. 

“Who are you? How did you get past the gates?” He demanded, his voice sharp with wariness. He knew the gates were closed at all times. 

He supposed she could’ve climbed over the gates, eying her short and tiny figure. Despite his deduction, he couldn’t shake off his skepticism. The girl was getting more suspicious by the minute. 

A blinding smile fell across her face, and he stared. 

Her smile was bright like some sunshine child, and he couldn’t have predicted the words that fell out of her mouth next. “I’m here to rob you!” 

Damian swears he could see sparkles emitting from her glimmering eyes. That didn’t stop him from wanting to scoff at the pathetic attempt to rob the manor. What kind of an amateur announces a robbery? 

He eyed her with a contemplating gaze, intrigued against his will. The girl didn’t look to be struggling with money or in debt. 

He kept his expression blank, interested in how this interaction would play out. “Are you even qualified?” 

An offended look replaced her sunny smile, and she glared at him. 

He could’ve sworn he heard faint laughter coming from her purse. 

“That doesn’t matter. Just, can I rob you?” the girl huffed out, looking impatient like she had somewhere to be and made the sporadic decision of committing the worst robbery attempt of the century. 

Had she forgotten what city she was in? That was possible. She did have a French accent. 

“Miss, this is Gotham,” he drawled, letting his katana hang on the spot behind the door with minimal effort. If the girl turned out to be a threat, his katana would still be easy to access. 

She merely raised a brow in response, unimpressed. “And?”

“You don’t just ask for permission to rob someone. Do you see the Joker asking people politely if he could respectfully hold them hostage?” Damian asked dryly. 

“Well, Mr. Riddler asks riddles. Scarecrow rhetorically asks people if they want to test out his new fear toxin gas. My question could as well be rhetorical,” the girl countered, looking at him like he was the crazy one. 

He rolled his eyes. “Tt. Didn’t seem like it.” 

“Can we make this quick? I have somewhere to be,” she said, looking annoyed. 

She pushed past him, and he reacted, the katana appearing in his hand in seconds and on her neck. 

What caught him off guard was she had punched him. Hard. In the solar plexus. He grunted, his katana clattering to the ground. 

For someone so small, she packed quite a punch. 

His hand twitched toward his katana as the girl disappeared into the manor. He should be slitting her throat for that, but he found the situation mildly amusing. 

She reappeared a second later, hauling a medium-sized potted succulent. 

“Of all things in the manor, you decided to rob a plant?” Damian asked in disbelief, wondering why he even cared. 

Why did he intend to let the girl walk free after robbing the manor? Even if the robbery in question was something insignificant like a plant.

Was this how Father felt every time Catwomen stole? Why did it have to be a genetics thing? Damian could already hear his siblings’ teasings. They could never find out about this. 

“There’s nothing wrong with plants!” she protested, holding the plant close to her chest for emphasis. 

Damian should phone the GCPD. But all logic seemed to have flown out the window because instead, he said, “I will let you go just this once out of pity so you can get the taste of having successfully robbed someone. With your non-existent thieving skills, it is unlikely that you would be let off as easily the next time, let alone be successful in the operation.” 

“Oh, thank you, kind sir. I’ll be taking my leave now,” the girl grumbled, albeit sarcastic. 

He was coming up with a last-minute dignified plan to get her name and number without losing face when she shoved a piece of cardstock in his hands. 

It was a business card for the fashion designer Drake was obsessed with, MDC. Except the pseudonym was struck out, with Marinette Dupain-Cheng replacing it on top instead, and her number was underneath where her email was. 

He looked up to see the girl— Marinette, already gone. 

She was fascinating, to say. 

Hadn’t his family always pushed him to make more friends other than Jon?

Damian would have to conduct a thorough background check to see if Marinette would be worth befriending. 

As he pondered the possibility, he couldn’t help but wonder if their possible friendship could evolve into something more. 

[rubydubydoo122]

Jason gets de-aged because I've seen fics of Tim or Dick being de-aged, and Bruce losing his memory, but no one has realized the potential for angst if you de-age Jason.

Something was different about Gotham. Sure the streets were relatively the same, but the buildings seemed different. Less run down. Newer. 

They passed a fire station that had an electrical board that showed any events, the weather, the time and… the date?

“Holy crow? It’s 2023? Does that mean I– does that mean I time traveled?” That would make him 21– nope, 20 because it was April. His birthday wasn’t for another 4 months. “This is so cool. Can I meet me?” Was he in college? Of course he was, there’s no way he would throw all that away. Did he get another growth spurt? He was probably cool. 

“I’m pretty sure you got de-aged, since you’re still wearing your suit. I think if it was time travel you would’ve showed up in your…” Stephanie glanced back at him like she had just realized something, but immediately shot her eyes back on the road “Robin costume.”

Wait. He wasn’t still Robin? A grown adult being Robin did seem kind of silly though. Dick had become Nightwing when he was 18. They kept calling Jason “Red Hood” . Was that what he called himself now? How in the world did he convince Bruce to let him use guns? Why did he use guns?

Steph lifted a finger to her com, “Um..quick question, who’s in the cave right now?” 

The question didn’t echo in Jason’s ear so he assumed that maybe she’d switched to a different frequency. Which was kinda rude, but also maybe polite because the reverberation is kinda annoying.

“Ok good, Oracle already filled you in. We’re coming up on the cave, Agent A, maybe you should put a sheet or something over the case.” a pause, “How am I supposed to know? I didn't know you people then.” she looked at Jason again, “He still has the white streak in his hair. If that helps?”

“I dyed… my hair?” He tried to get a glance of himself in the side mirrors and sure enough he had a streak of white near his forehead, “ Cool .”

They got to the cave, which had a lot more bat-themed vehicles than Jason remembered. No duh, it’s been like five years. 

They got out of the bike and walked further into the cave. Well, Stephanie walked, Jason waddled because his pants and boots were way too big. She turned around with her phone and took a picture with a shit eating grin. 

“What- hey! Delete that!” He reached to grab the phone but she moved it just out of reach. Screw her and her tallness.

“No can do, bitty bird. It’s not often I can get blackmail on the Big Bad Red Hood.”

She was basically a stranger and now she has a picture of him. Sure she was let into the batcave, and Bruce probably trusted her, but that doesn’t mean he was comfortable with her taking pictures of him. Jason’s eyes felt like they were burning in shame.

“Miss. Stephanie, don’t tease Master–” Alfred was cut off by a hug, 

“Alfie!” Jason couldn’t see Alfred pale in his arms. Because other than the white streak running through his hair, Jason looked almost exactly how he did before he… left. For Ethiopia. 

Alfred wrapped his arms tightly around him. Afraid that if he let go, Jason would run away and he would lose him for a second time. “...Jason.” 

Jason shifted in his arms, because hugs with Alfred were never this long, even when he was hugging Dick. Did Jason not see Alfred anymore? Nah, that could never happen. Even if Jason was angry at Bruce (which he couldn’t be for that long) he would still try to see Alfred at least once a week. But the hug felt good.

Alfred cleared his throat before letting go, “Dear god, you are practically swimming in those clothes. I’ll see if I can find something that might fit, Master Jason.”

And before Jason could thank him, Alfred was gone. 

He started walking deeper into the cave because if it really was 2023, there’d better be much cooler technology and if there wasn’t, Jason was gonna be really disappointed. 

But of course, since Jason was wearing clothes that were meant for someone who was Bruce’s size, he stepped on the leg of his pants and tripped on his boots while trying to catch himself.

“These boots are ten sizes too big.” Jason totally wasn’t whining as he kicked them off and started aggressively rolling up his pant legs, “You could probably put these pants on a giant and they’d still be a nuisance to keep up.”

There was a huff of a laugh that did not sound like Stephanie’s. “Well, you are usually kind of a giant, Jason. You probably scare more badguys than Batman.” There was a teen in pajamas offering a hand out to him, “I’m Duke.”

Jason accepted the hand, “Thanks. It’s nice to meet you, but I don’t think it’s possible to be scarier than Batman.” Who was this kid? He seemed about Jason’s age. Did he know Bruce was Batman? Was he the new Robin? 

Duke shifted from side to side, “Yeah, you’re right, I was just trying to start up a conversation.”

Alfred came back into the cave with a pile of clothes in his hands. “After you change, Master Jason, meet me in the medbay. I’m sure Master Bruce will want to run some tests.”

That meant he was about to be poked and prodded. And ever since Jason’s mom died–

No… It can’t end like this… Gotta get you out of here….I’ll save you mom…It’s locked! 

“Master Jason?” Alfred had placed a hand on Jason’s arm. 

“Thanks Alfred.” Jason took the clothes with shaky hands. That flash of– maybe a nightmare, left him feeling clammy. He could see Stephanie walking over to them and Duke was looking at him with a slight frown. They couldn’t see Jason like this, scared of what his own brain conjured up for no apparent reason. So he quickly headed towards the bathroom to take a shower, to wash away the sweat. Not the fear. 

He had… a lot of scars. Scars that he didn’t remember getting. The two most concerning being the one on his throat, and the Y shaped scar running down his torso. If Jason didn’t know any better, he would think it was a scar from an autopsy. But he was very much alive. 

Jason peeled his eyes away from the mirror and hopped into the shower. He felt like somehow, he was intruding his own privacy. And he was grateful for the turtleneck that was slightly too big because he wasn’t sure if the scars were something he wanted everyone seeing. Because the clothes he was wearing before seemed to cover them up.

Jason could hear the roar of the batmobile. Bruce . Yeah, maybe things have been kinda rough between the both of them recently, but Jason was confused, and scared, and all he wanted was his dad. 

Except by the time Jason had reached the Batmobile, it wasn’t Batman coming out of the driver's seat, it was–

“Dick?” Jason had to do a double take. His costume was a lot more muted. Less blue and more black. Also, since when did Bruce let Dick drive the batmobile? 

Two other people were coming out of the batmobile too, but before he could get a good look at them, he was engulfed in a hug. Which was weird. Really weird. Because Dick rarely hugged him. 

Dick pulled away, “I forgot how small you used to be.”

“I wasn’t going to point out how old you look, because I’m a nice person, but you look old. ” Even with the mask on, Jason could tell. Well, it was less physical, and more of a vibe. There was a different aura of maturity surrounding his older brother. He seemed to be less of a ball of rage and more… Well, calm. 

There was a mumble that came from near the batmobile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

The kid, who was maybe the same age as Jason. He held himself in a way that screamed, I’m better than you . And he had the Robin ‘R’ on his chest. But the costume held little resemblance to the normal Robin suit. Almost all the colors and light had been stripped from the costume. It fit the vibe of Gotham, but it couldn’t be Robin. He also got a sword. A sword. “Are those my clothes?”

“I dunno. Alfred gave them to me.” Jason pulled the sleeves over his hands and crossed his arms. 

Emo Robin was looking at him funny. Jason could see the puzzle pieces clicking into place. Before the look was covered by a look of arrogance, “Tt” and he stalked off. 

Dick watched as Emo Robin went to the cave's bathroom, and then looked back to the third person. The girl who had come out of the passenger seat of the Batmobile. 

“Remembers. Recognizes.” She shrugged and locked eyes with Jason. 

She had a mask in her hands, and was wearing all black with the signature yellow bat. The way she was looking at Jason made him feel like she knew everything about him, but it didn’t feel wrong. If anything, it was kind of comforting. He offered her a little smile. 

“I am Cass. Your big sister.”

Jason felt his smile widen even more, “I’ve always wanted a sister.” 

She just ruffled his hair in response. 

Jason looked back to Dick, “um… where’s Bruce?” Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to ask the dude who was almost constantly getting into screaming matches with Bruce where he was, but Dick was driving the Batmobile, which meant they have to have made up in the past 7 years. 

“He’s just tying things up with Commissioner Gordon. So he sent us ahead.” Dick gaze was searching his face. “Do you want me to ask him to wrap up sooner?”

As tempting as that was, Jason shook his head, “Nah, he’ll come home eventually.” 

Dick opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then shut it, “I’m gonna go change. I’ll be back.” 

That… was probably the most awkward conversation he’s had with Dick. And that was saying something, because that conversation before Dick officially passed the mantle of Robin to Jason had been pretty tense. This was tense in a different way. 

“Master Jason?”

“Oh! Right! Sorry Alfie. I’m coming.”

[elizabethemerald]

Summon the Cat: Part 7

Master Post

The sky over Gotham rumbled and cracked with thunder and lightning. For once the city wasn’t suffering under a deluge, only an electric storm that made the buildings shake with each wave of thunder. The weather couldn’t be more appropriate, because today was the day of Danny’s funeral. 

Selina had spent a month planning every detail with Danny, Jazz and the Sirens. Danny had started sobbing when he realized that she had been serious about the offer of a grave. At first she thought she had messed up somehow, but it took getting back home to the Chateau (what they had taken to calling the former Drake Manor), and some comforting time with Jazz to realize that she had done exactly the right thing. 

Jazz revealed that she had her own shrine for her dead brother, carefully hidden in her closet. She hadn’t dared to have anything larger when she was still in Amity when doing so could reveal Danny’s truth to the Fentons, and she had kept up the secret once they moved, uncertain how Selina and the Sirens would react to the shrine. 

Danny was a ghost. As much as he was also alive, he had also died in a truly horrific manner. His life and his death deserved to be remembered. Once he was able to speak without sobbing, Danny confessed that he had felt ungrounded after his death until Jazz had found out and made her shrine. Sam and Tucker were great friends, but they just hadn’t been mature enough to realize what he needed, and he didn’t have the words to ask. 

Jazz had a personal theory that while every ghost and spirit in the Realms wanted to be remembered and mourned in some way, it took a significant effort for any of them to actually request it. Sort of like speaking about their own death, speaking about their memorial and was too painful for them. 

Selina had asked if she could see Jazz’s shrine, though she feared that would be too private. Danny however also wanted to see the shrine she had made for him, so Jazz had called her girlfriends over to provide some comfort, then grabbed the shrine and brought it out. The shrine was an old cigar box that still smelled of tobacco. Jazz had painted the outside black, and covered the top in stars. 

Danny immediately pointed out that the star positions weren’t correct, but when Jazz started to huff about completely unreasonable expectations, Danny laughed and grabbed her tight in a hug. 

“The stars are close enough that I can see how hard you tried.” Danny said with a bright smile. Jazz blushed, but smiled and hugged him back. 

When Selina opened the lid of the cigar box a light clicked on and a small star projector started turning like a ballerina in a music box. Danny and Jazz were fully crying now as more stars were projected onto the lid of the box. Inside there was a pair of candles and a small plate for offerings. Surrounding the plate were different things that represented Danny to Jazz. Calipers and a drawing compass to show his skill with engineering, a Stomle Family figurine in a ghost costume for his ghost half, and a couple of astronaut figures for his space obsession. There was even a little handmade thief mask with little cat ears, that showed she was still working on and actively adding things to the shrine. 

Cass and Steph cooed over the shrine and the work and thought Jazz had clearly put into the little box, but they could both see just how much this meant to not just their girlfriend, but also to Danny as he gently picked up each piece and turned it around to look at it, before just as gently returning it to its home. He examined each and every piece with all the care of an archeologist with a newly uncovered ancient civilization. 

Selina had promised to spend just as much time planning Danny’s grave. He deserved to have his grave be perfect for him, and she needed to be the one to provide it for him. She couldn’t have her kids relying only on each other, not when she was there and could help. So she had spent long hours with Danny and Jazz, talking about every conceivable detail he could want. 

After she had come up with a good plan for his grave, surprisingly her first stop was Wayne Manor. She didn’t bother driving over, or breaking in through a window like she would normally do. Instead she marched up to the front gates. Alfred, the gent, of course let her in immediately and had the door open as she approached. Bruce was there almost as quick, his scowl as permanently carved onto his face as a name on a tombstone. 

“You. Me. Your office. Now.” Selina snapped at him before marching past. 

Bruce followed close, like he was afraid she would attack someone. She sneered, she had plenty of access to every one of his birds when they spent nights over at the Chateau. She could already tell that today was going to be an exercise in patience. Or she would end up fighting Bruce in a knock down, drag out brawl. Selina waited for Bruce to follow her into his office, his eyes narrowed as he checked her for any behavior he considered out of the ordinary. 

“Alright, Bruce. Test me for mind control. In fact, go through every test for mind control.” Selina demanded. 

“Selina-” 

“No! You test me right now.” Selina snapped. “Danny is our son. You’re right, he is a paranormal being. He died because of his last guardian’s negligence.” She could see the pain on his face, but he needed the reality check. “But just because he died doesn’t mean he’s manipulating me. What it does mean is that he needs extra care to be happy. Care we can give him as his parents.” 

She could hear some of the birds creeping outside his office door. Probably Tim and Damian. Despite the contentious start to their relationship, those two were similar in so many ways. Including nosiness. 

“Danny died. He died far away from us, far away from any protection we could provide. But he’s still here! He still is able to have a relationship with us. But part of him being half dead is that he needs a grave so his spirit half feels anchored. I’m going to give him the best grave he could ever ask for, and you are going to be there. Our boy has already suffered under one set of neglectful and abusive parents, he doesn’t need another. When we have his funeral he deserves to have his father there for him. Now, let’s head down and you can test me for mind control to prove to your paranoid ass that he can be trusted.” 

Selina turned and marched for the grandfather clock on the wall, but Bruce hesitated to follow. She turned back to face him, and it took all of her self control to keep from diving across the desk to strangle the life out of him. How dare he look guilty now? She could almost see the offer to spare her the checks forming on his lips. 

“No you don’t.” She snapped. “You’ve had months, literally months to pull your head out of your ass. Months to see for yourself just how much our son loves those around him. At any point you could have actually looked at the evidence in front of your eyes and seen that he isn’t some malicious entity. That time has passed. Now you are going to perform every test to check for mind control. And if I feel you are holding back, I’ll call Tim and have him go through the rest of the tests. You lost out on your chance to hold back. Now we do it on my terms.”

She spent the next several hours having 37 tests performed that checked for all manner of mind altering or controlling substances. She was checked for nanobots, hypnotism, possession, if she was clone, if she was on drugs or alcohol, even if she was pregnant, which was for some reason on Bruce’s list. He didn’t even have the guts to perform them all himself. Fortunately Tim and Damian had followed them down to the Batcave and had followed through on the rest, going through the full ungodly battery of tests. 

Each negative on the tests was put up on the big screen of the Bat computer. Tim seemed to share in Selina’s pettiness and ensured that each test was logged in her file, and the results broadcast to the other bats and birds. During the tests, Selina made Bruce’s role explicitly clear. 

“For Danny’s funeral, you will be there in a nice, civilian suit. Talk to Dick if you can’t figure it out, he’s close with Danny and knows how to dress.” Tim’s snort at her words was not unappreciated, but Dick was the best of the birds at talking back to Bruce despite his poor fashion sense. Sometimes a situation needed someone equally as bullheaded. “I swear by all that is holy, if I see even a glimpse of a pointy eared cowl, the entire world will know Bruce Wayne is Batman within the week.” 

Bruce startled, but Selina spoke over him, not allowing him a chance to try and scold her like a child. 

“It’s a contingency plan. Just like you always do for your coworkers. I no longer trust you to act like you should have, so I’m taking things into my own claws. It’s far past time you started acting like a father for at least one of your kids, rather than a paranoid general.” 

She could see just how struck he was by her words. Bruce’s greatest strengths and greatest weaknesses went hand in hand. He was dedicated, driven and never caught flat footed. But that also meant that he was blind to the needs of those around him, absent from their lives and paranoid to the point of pushing people away. Danny deserved better. He would get better even if she had to claw and drag Bruce all the way across the line. 

Once Bruce’s participation and attire were properly established, Selina focused on the other things she would need for Danny’s grave. She and Jazz picked out a coffin even if it would usually sit empty. Harley was invaluable as she helped the whole family talk through the trauma and pain of burying someone they loved. 

Pamela offered the biggest boon for the grave, a place for it to rest. 

Danny wanted his grave to be somewhere that meant something to him, but also somewhere that was safe. If someone tampered with his grave after he connected with it, he could fly into a rage, or lose control of his obsessions. He might have wanted it to be on the grounds of Wayne Manor, but he had no connection to what should have been his home, thanks to Bruce’s pigheadedness. The Chateau was nice and while the former Drake Manor would be his home for the next few years until he graduated, it wasn’t his haunt yet. 

Ivy had offered to have his grave placed within the corner of Robinson park that she had taken over as her Lair. The city and the bats were more than willing to let her have the park for her space as long as it kept her from taking her anger out on the city. None of the other criminals would dare risk her ire by attacking something so deep in her realm, surrounded by her greatest weapons. She offered to protect the grave and keep it safe from anyone Danny didn’t specifically allow to visit it. 

Danny had been so overjoyed that he had picked his Aunty Pamela up and flew around the room with her. Harley wasn’t just going to sit by and watch her girlfriend have all the fun, so she immediately jumped onto Danny’s back, who didn’t even seem to notice the added weight. The three of them completed a few circuits of the room before Selina’s son was able to calm himself enough to return them to the ground. 

So on that stormy day the entire family made their way through the jungle Pamela had grown in the park towards where Danny’s resting place would be. The entire extended Bat family was there, Cass and Steph were arm in arm with Jazz who hadn’t stopped crying all morning. Jason, Dick and Tim, were walking around Bruce, who had worn a new designer suit, rather than his bat suit. Selina was certain the boys were prepared to throw down with Bruce if he tried any of his previous bullshit. Duke and Damian walked as an honor guard on either side of Danny, who also had a new suit. Selina followed right behind them with Pam and Harles there to support her. 

When they arrived at Danny’s resting spot, he gave a small nod to the rest of the family, a tight hug to Jazz, a softer hug to Selina and allowed her to attempt to straighten his hair one more time. Then he laid down in the open coffin. Jason looked like he was about to pass out, but Dick was there to keep an eye on him. 

Jazz stepped up Danny’s coffin and placed one of the figurines from her shrine in his hands. One by one the family stepped up to place some memento of their time together, and Danny’s life in the coffin with him. 

Ivy closed the lid with her vines, and the nearby plants pushed the dirt over the closed coffin. Jazz’s sobs had grown loud, and her girlfriend’s held her as her grief almost seemed to shake her apart. Selina sang softly, joined by Damian’s gentle tenor, and to her surprise, Bruce’s deep bass. It was a song of mourning, a song of joy, a lullaby, a rousing march, everything that Danny had come to represent in her life. 

Bruce had come through on the headstone in a way that only a Wayne could. The stone had hundreds of holes drilled through it at different angles, so each day at noon it would project a constellation onto the ground, a different constellation depending on the season. On it was written the words Jazz and Selina had agreed to. 

Born Alan Thomas Wayne

Died Daniel Jackson Fenton

Buried Danny Thomas Kyle

Brother and Son

Hero and Protector

May the Stars ever watch over where he rests

Selina’s song ended and air itself seemed to grieve, before the jungle around them was filled with numerous ghosts. All of the ghosts that were Danny’s sometimes enemies, sometimes friends, surrounded them. A deep, vibrating wail built up with the combined grief, joy, and respect of the surrounding ghosts. Jazz joined the wail, a heartbreaking cry tearing its way out of her as she threw her head back and gave voice to all of the emotions she had been forced to hide ever since she had found out her brother had died. 

The last of the wail trailed off and the ghosts fell silent, and the family felt a weight settle onto the clearing around Danny’s grave. The sky above lit up with dozens of crackling bolts of lightning and the heavens themselves opened and the rain poured down, immediately soaking everyone but the ghosts. Danny Fenton was dead and buried. 

.

Like a breath of fresh air, Danny rose again through the dirt of his grave, his ghost form shining in the darkened air around them. There was grief on his face, but also joy, and love. The entire clearing resonated with his love and devotion to those around him. 

The family other than Bruce hurried back to the Chateau. Selina didn’t want Bruce spoiling Danny and Jazz’s safe space, and someone needed to go out to protect the city. The rest of the family and the ghosts who had attended the funeral celebrated Danny’s life and everything he had accomplished since his death. 

The party grew increasingly raucous as the night progressed, with some of the older members of the family breaking out drinks, while the younger members enjoyed snacks lovingly provided by Alfred. The ghosts enjoyed sharing stories of their best fight with Phantom, while the bats shared their encounters with Cheshire. Jazz wiped her tears and shared embarrassing stories from when Danny was younger, stories that Selina cherished, knowing that she had missed all these milestones. 

Danny Fenton was dead, and finally after too long of fighting, and years of neglect and abuse at the hands of the people who should have been his guardians, he was buried. But Danny Kyle was still at least half alive. He still had a life to live ahead of him. And to Selina, Jazz and Danny himself. That made all the difference.

[soleminisanction]

For your war games take, It feels like a one step forward, two steps back sort of thing for Stephanie in the end though because if we ignore the meta surrounding Stephanie’s death and try to explain it in an in-character way, it reads like she realized she was in over her head and faked her death to regroup and put some distance between her and the event (thus ultimately bowing out of taking responsibility) Though, what are your thoughts on her coming-back-to-life arc? Do you think it was in character for her to fake her death and come back once everything’s calmed down more?

Yeah to be clear, when I say War Games was a good Steph story, I'm talking about it in the context of when it was written, without anything that came after. Everything that came after was absolutely a step back.

Though to be fair, even with the retcon she wasn't the one who chose to fake her death -- that was Leslie's doing. So I don't think it matters whether it was in-character for Steph or not. I do think it felt in-character that, once she was removed from the situation, she didn't go back until she felt ready, but the removal itself was not her choice.

TBH the non-death ending I've always pictured for Steph involves her and her mother leaving Gotham afterwards so she could recover, think over what she actually wants to do with her life, and get away from both the bad memories and the negative reactions people would understandably have towards her. She'd get put on a bus until some writer who actually cared about her and her story showed up with a pitch to bring her back, maybe as Spoiler, maybe someone entirely new, maybe back in Gotham, maybe spreading her wings in a new town. It can be really healthy for a comic book character to just... go away sometimes, until someone who feels passionate about them decides to pick up the torch.

Her coming-back-to-life arc is one of the worst-written stories I've ever subjected myself to.

I was active in the fandom when that came out, I read it new and hated every page of it. Chuck Dixon has always been a quantity-over-quality writer but oh my god he was such a poor match for the age of "writing for the trade," you could tell he had no idea how to spread a story that relatively simple over more than one, maybe two issues. And the actual story he wrote about what happened in Africa that supposedly inspired her to come back is so goddamn racist it's embarrassing.

Everything about the way they brought her back is bad and I hate it. 😭

[makethatelevenrings]

For Your Eyes Only // B. Wayne x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: mention of fear toxin

Summary: Bruce Wayne has enough money to buy anything. That makes gift giving extremely difficult. Until you come up with an idea.

The idea sprang to your mind like Athena from Zeus. It had been a hard night with numerous Rogues breaking out of Arkham and a newer, more potent fear gas strain being dispersed in the city. Tim’s rebreather had been broken, so Bruce gave him the one on his belt.

You had spent eight hours curled up in the cold metal chair next to the medical bay cot, your hand tightly clasped in his as he sweat out the toxin. You couldn’t banish the fears he was seeing from his mind, but you could be with him, holding his hand and kissing his brow. The kids periodically came in with snacks and water and blankets, but they only stayed for a few minutes before disappearing once again. You knew they felt guilty for letting Bruce take the brunt of the toxin, but you also knew that your boyfriend wouldn’t want his kids to feel that way. Once Bruce was up and moving, you would turn your attention on making sure the batlings and birds didn’t let the guilt eat them alive, especially Tim.

It was during hour seven when his shivering began to subside and his stare was less vapid and more focused that the idea came to you. Christmas wasn’t for another few months but, hey, you had a lot of people to shop for so might as well get started now.

But you didn’t want to buy anything for Bruce. Hell, there was nothing to buy. He was the richest man in Gotham and could easily purchase whatever he wanted, from a Porsche to a penthouse. When you first started dating, you teased him endlessly about dating someone from “the lower class” despite his constant eyerolls. Jason and Steph found it hilarious, however, and so you would keep up the jokes as long as you had two allies on your side.

This idea…it was special. It was sentimental. By god, it was sappy.

You really hoped that your emotionally constipated boyfriend appreciated it.

Christmas morning came and went. The kids were showered with gifts, of course, ranging in weaponry to books to new pencils and everything in between. You sat nestled next to Bruce on one of the couches, warm and content as the light and heat of the fireplace washed over you. A mug of coffee sat nestled in your hands and a blanket was tucked around your legs, courtesy of the worrywart of a man next to you.

“I’d like to give you my gift later. When we’re alone,” you murmured to him. His eyebrow lifted, curiosity staining his usually impassive face and you smacked his chest.

“Not like that.” Your scowl was met with a soft grin and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you settled back against his chest to watch the kids descend on their wrapped gifts.

Around noon, you slipped out of the living room where the kids were spread out watching Die Hard. You waited for a moment when strong hands curled around your hips and a chin settled on your shoulder.

“Merry Christmas,” you chuckled.

“Merry Christmas, darling.” You pulled him upstairs with you to your shared bedroom and pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bed so you could dash to the walk-in closet and rummage through your shoes.

“I know you could have easily found these, but it’s the principle of the matter,” you declared as you emerged from the closet. An old shoebox sat in your hands and you extended it to him, suddenly shy at the thought of him opening this gift. Once he took it from your grasp, you stepped away and wrung your hands together as he opened it.

Bruce was silent for a moment and you regretted everything. This was stupid. It had been a stupid idea and you should have just gone out and bought him new cufflinks or somethi-

He tugged you closer to him and rested his forehead against your stomach, his eyes still locked on the pile of letters in the box. Each letter was labeled on the outside with a small message.

“Open me when you’re at the Watchtower,” one read.

“Open me if I’m not home for the night,” another said.

“Open me when the darkness is too much.”

Letter upon letter crowded the small box, each handwritten with an outpouring of emotion. You wrote encouragement, love, and occasional derision when you knew he would have his head up his ass. Bruce was a reserved man and he didn’t take genuine compliments well.

Having a chance to read these in private and receive your love outside of verbal words?

“Thank you, darling,” he breathed as he tugged you down to sit in his lap. You nestled your head against the crook of his neck and played with a loose strand on the sleeve of his cashmere sweater.

“And when you’ve read them all, I’ll always have more words waiting for you here.”

His lips pressed against the crown of your head as he ran his fingers over the rough paper beneath his fingers. No words needed to be said. You both understood the love that you felt. It was all written out on paper.

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