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nabtime · 11 months

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Our Empty Graves XI

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 11: we live, we die, the lifeless stars shining in the dark

Chapter Summary: Multiple conversations are had and Jason is overwhelmed in all of them.

Chapter Notes: Lifeless Stars by Palaye Royale Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 12 // Spotify

Jason blinked up at Fetch and his solemnly earnest expression and could not wrap his head around what the other was trying to tell him. Idly, he noticed that Fetcher got his hair cut. It looked nice, trimmed down to his shoulders and the burnt edges gone, but it still floated distractingly in the air around his head. It looked fluffy and Jason was extremely tempted to touch it.

But haircuts could only distract him for so long.

Fetcher died too… He died. But he was here. But he’d died before too. The kindest jellyfish he’d ever met had died. And it would explain the green, if Fetcher had been resurrected but Jason though he wasn’t associated with Ra’s but then what if he was. Because how else was the kid still here? So was he working for Ra’s or wasn’t he? Was it a completely unrelated instance of Lazarus Pit resurrection or something else entirely had brought him back? Was he actually a Pit Demon like Jason had accused? But. Everything felt jumbled in his mind. None of it made any sense. Maybe it was the weird feeling of having Fetcher’s hand comb through his chest still lingering and throwing his thoughts out of sort.

“What?” was about the only thing he could squeeze out of his ragged throat. He needed more information.

He watched as Fetcher fidgeted with his gloves for a time, picking at the fingers one by one before finally just taking them off. His hands were as white as his face but his nails were tinted green. It didn’t look like nail polish. Huh. They were also sharp. His hands were small but his fingers long, like you would expect to see on a pianist, elegantly proportioned. He watched Fetcher wring his gloves in thought before he looked up. He tilted his head in consideration before he mimed what looked like a fork? And then mimed shoving it forward- and then started fake convulsions.

Fucking seriously?!

“You-,” he had trouble gathering his will to address what he just saw. “Stuck a fork in a socket and electrocuted yourself?”

Fetcher then had the audacity to tilt his hand in a so-so motion and shrug. Like that explained a single goddamn thing. He wasn’t going to push it. He refused to touch any of whatever the hell that was. He would only come out of it more confused than he started. So, sure, Fetcher died by electrocuting himself like a dumb-ass but only sort of. Whatever.

He sighed, before asking the more relevant question, “How’d you come back?”

And Fetcher looked away, nervous. And Jason didn’t like that. Was it bad? Was it against his will? An experiment gone wrong? Had it been as horrific as Jason’s had been?

Fetcher shook his head.

“No?” he asked. Did he just not want to talk about it? Did he not know?

Fetcher’s shoulder’s sagged before he pulled them back and looked Jason in the eye. He pointed to himself. I. And then pulled a finger across his throat. Died.

“Yeah,” Jason said slowly, perplexed. “You died. You said that.”

Fetcher shook his head again, agitated, before he seemed to give up and put a hand through his own chest this time. Just as weird as the first time Jason saw him do it. Kid was a black hole in there, just a bunch of shit packed into his own intestines. Jason didn’t know how he did that and he didn’t want to know. It was also odd to see him root around in there when he now had first hand experience how it felt. 4/10 would not like to experience again. Four because it still wasn’t the least pleasant experience he had and while it was shocking it wasn’t painful. Felt like a fair rating all things considered.

He pulled out his trusty whiteboard and dry-erase marker and Jason was absolutely not prepared for what Fetcher wrote down when he flipped the board over for him to read.

I didn’t come back.

Oh god.

“What…” he trailed off and swallowed hard, trying to put his words together again. “Do you mean, Fetch?”

He gave Jason a small, sad smile before writing on his board again. He seemed to brace himself before flipping it over, expression wary when he did.

I’m a ghost.

A ghost. A spirit. Someone not quite there anymore. And he thought about the invisibility and the density-shifting and it made some modicum of sense, but at the same time it still didn’t make any sense at all. Fetcher was so alive. Jason could reach out and touch him. He smiled and laughed and bled. He couldn’t be…

“You called yourself a Fetch before,” he pointed out, still surrounded by more questions than answers.

The kid nodded and started writing again.

A Fetch is a type of ghost. I didn’t say so earlier because people don’t like ghosts.

He fidgeted after flipping the board over this time, jostling it so it was almost hard for Jason to read. But he managed. He didn’t like what was there.

“People… don’t like ghosts,” he said, trying to figure out who, exactly, had been so prejudice against a dead kid that he believed everyone hated ghosts. When a majority of the populace didn’t believe in them. At least he was pretty sure. He may have traveled in odd circles after coming back but he’s pretty sure he would have noticed if ghosts were suddenly a confirmed thing.

Fetcher nodded sadly, fiddling with the cap of his cheap little blue marker and avoiding eye contact.

“That’s stupid,” Jason blurted, watching the other blink in surprise and fumble with the marker- startled. “What the hell kind of discrimination is that? Ghoulphobia?”

And he watched as a smile tugged at the edges of Fetcher’s mouth, reluctant but growing. He ducked his head behind his whiteboard before angling it to write and still hide his face. Jason could tell he was still smiling, though, which is what mattered.

Ghoulphobia is a very serious problem and impacts Spirits and Undead-aligned people of all kinds. Including you.

“I’m sure,” Jason drawled, willing to let a little amusement bleed through, if only for a moment. “Speaking of spirits and the undead-aligned,” Jason began, not liking how Fetcher had counted him in that description, “what, precisely, do you mean by including me?”

Fetcher blinked. Tilted his head. He leaned on arm over the board and gestured toward Jason. You. And then he slid his finger across his throat and boy was Jason getting tired of that. Died. And then he flipped a palm up in a motion as if to say, ‘isn’t that obvious?’

“Yeah, I know I died,” Jason retorted, “but I came back. Living,” he emphasized. “Not a zombie. Got a pulse and everything.”

F etcher tilted his head back, eyes closing, looking like he was trying to gather strength. Yeah, Jason felt around the same about all this. He didn’t like this conversation and yet, here they were, having it anyway. God, he’d just gotten blown up by a clown for the second time, could he have no rest? Could he not just live out the rest of his life/unlife blissfully unaware of the intricacies of how he came back and what he qualified as now if it was anything but human.

The other shook himself a bit before bringing a reluctant marker down on whiteboard again.

Not all the way. Not correctly. Something's off- I checked.

Jason blue-screened a bit, the inside of his mind becom ing a window’s screen saver. One life-altering revelation after another here, just sucker punch after sucker punch when he was already down with a bruised jaw. He came back wrong. He’d fucked up coming back to life somehow. He wasn’t even aware that was something you could really fuck up. Should be a zero-sum game- you’re either dead or alive. But no, apparently there were more in-betweens than he’d realized. Fuck.

“You checked?” he decided to ask instead of thinking about literally anything else about this situation.

Fetcher mimed shoving his hand down and ah, yes, the hand-in-Jason’s-chest-and-rooting-around-thing he’d done earlier that Jason had decidedly not liked. Fantastic.

“Care to elaborate,” Jason said through gritted teeth. He died, big whoop. All that mattered was that he was back. That he was alive now. That he had a chance to seek vengeance, to get answers. To right the Batman’s wrongs. Even if he only had a limited time to do it. But he needed to know how much. If something went wrong with his resurrection did that mean he could die again at any moment?

Fetcher’s face twisted in uncertainty and he gave a sort of half-shrug before writing again and turning the board.

I’m not an expert. All I can really tell is that something is wrong. You have ectoplasm like ghosts do, but not a lot. And it’s like poison . I couldn’t tell you what it’s doing to you, though.

“Ectoplasm is real?” he questioned, thinking about the Ghostbuster’s movies, and deciding to not touch any of the other things Fetcher mentioned. Poisoned… He’d experienced the Pit Rage briefly when he’d come out of the Lazarus Waters but it had faded. At least he thought it had. He was a bit angrier than he had been before but he had a lot to be pissed about. “Wait, wait, do you know about the Lazarus Pits and would they have anything to do with it?”

Fetcher tilted his head in thought, pale green eyes flicking up to the side. His eyelashes were white and long and pretty, Jason noted while waiting for an answer.

Fetcher shook his head and took to writing, starting and stopping and erasing before writing again. He flipped the board over with a shrug, like he wasn’t sure about his answer.

Ectoplasm is all around, the ambient kind at least. The residue of Death. It comes in multiple forms and uses and its usually not visible to humans. You’ve seen it before because it’s in my blood. Organic Ectoplasm. Whatever a Lazarus Pit is might be ectoplasm, might not be. What you have in your system almost feels like Combative Ectoplasm. Like a bullet wound with the bullet still inside?

Jason blinked, “Like shrapnel?”

Fetcher nodded.

Jason fell back against his pillow, staring up at the ceiling and trying to absorb everything he’d learned so far. Fetcher died from electrocution that may or may not have been self-inflicted. Fetcher was a ghost. Fetch was a type of ghost, but he didn’t know what that specifically meant and he was pretty sure that Fetcher didn’t want to tell him. Fetcher’s blood had ectoplasm and was likely why it was bright neon green. Jason had ectoplasm in him and it may or may not have anything to do with the Lazarus Pits and it apparently felt like poison. Jason had not come back all the way like he’d first assumed. He sighed, deeply. What a fucking day already.

“Do I even want to know the difference between ambient, organic, and combative ectoplasm?”

The other sighed before scrunching his nose with displeasure and reluctantly erasing and writing on the board again. He seemed frustrated with every letter, like he wasn’t happy with whatever explanation he was trying to write. Great. Jason’s source of info wasn’t anything like an expert and he had no other way to find one. He was fucked.

Ambient ecto is the stuff that’s just everywhere. Like soup. Organic is the stuff that makes up ghosts themselves. Like blood and organs. Combative ecto is what it says on the tin. Used to fight. Regenerative ecto is used to heal.

Like soup? Like soup?! Jason just might kill the kid a second time if this kept up. That was a whole other forth category of ectoplasm on there too! And why was there a whole separate type of ectoplasm for fighting? Why was ambient ectoplasm just everywhere? Like? Soup? What made the types different? He still didn’t even know what ectoplasm was, aside from the ever helpful explanation that it was ‘death residue’.

“You’re killing me, jellyfish,” he groaned.

And then Fetcher was leaning over him, where he’d fallen back onto the bed in dismay, a soft look in his eyes and an excited little smile on his face that made him radiant.

“What,” Jason said flatly. What had he done to warrant that kind of expression? He didn’t deserve a look so gentle.

Fetcher pointed at him. You. He made a gesture with his hand starting from his open mouth waving outward. Called. He pointed back to himself. Me. He held one hand up, cupped slightly over the top of the other which he wiggled the fingers of- like tentacles. Jellyfish.

“Yeah?” he replied, not understanding why that would make Fetcher look so damn happy. It was just a nickname, a stupid one at that. He used them all the time, what made this time so different?

Fetcher rolled his eyes before pulling out the board again with a sigh.

You haven’t used any nicknames since the dojo fight. I missed them.

“Oh,” he said, a little choked. Fuck, what a punch to the gut. A fantastic reminder that he’d so thoroughly messed up when he lashed out at Fetcher in the dojo, let his anger take hold and jumped to conclusions. And that he still hadn’t apologized. He was a fucking mess and he didn’t deserve to have such a sweet guy around. But, for some godforsaken reason, the guy wanted to be around him. Looks like he’d just have to get over himself about it.

“Sorry,” he said, voice a little strangled. What he meant by that apology he didn’t quite know. Sorry for not using the nicknames again earlier? Sorry for not knowing that he missed them? Sorry for the hurt he’d caused with the fight itself? All of it and more?

And then Fetcher’s smile stretched wider- and on some level it hurt to look at. He didn’t deserve to see such happiness on the other’s face, not when he’d been the one to inflict so much pain. He wasn’t about to be more of an ass and fuck off about it though. That would just punish Fetcher- and he’d done enough already.

The ghost touched a hand to his chin and brought it forward, eyes warm and happy. Thank you.

“I-,” Jason said, pursing his lips, conflicted. “Don’t- don’t thank me for that. It’s not enough.”

At this the other looked perplexed, tilting his head again before picking his board back up, tapping his marker against the edge before writing.

Why? You thought I was there to betray you. You said mean things, but it wasn’t anything I haven’t heard before. Or anything that isn’t true.

And that just broke his fucking heart.

He wanted to beg and plead and make the other understand that he wasn’t a monster, wasn’t a demon, or an experiment gone wrong. He wanted to tell Fetcher that he was an angel. A precious soul. He wanted to tell him that Jason was the monster, not him. That he was so, so sorry for making him think anything else. But he knew, from experience, that words like ‘evil’ and ‘wrong’ were hard ones to shake. He’d been called all that and worse since he came back, vindictive and violent for all the things that happened to him.

Once upon a time he’d been a Robin, a spark of light and joy in the dark streets of Gotham, but those days were long behind him. He’d been afraid since his resurrection that death had changed him, irrevocably, and maybe for the worse. This new knowledge that he hadn’t come back all the way just confirmed it. Jason had come out of the other side filled with cold fury, a demon hellbent on vengeance, and he knew it. Fetcher came out of the other side an angel, a sweet soul, convinced he was a demon when he wasn’t.

He’d have to prove it. Little by little. That despite being a ghost, despite no longer being human, Fetcher was still good. That being a monster didn’t make him bad. (And maybe, maybe there was a part of himself that wanted to prove he wasn’t bad either. That while he was a monster too- he could be good again.)

“Jellyfish,” he said seriously, using the nickname with purpose, “I jumped to conclusions when I shouldn’t have. I-when your eyes went green- I just-”

And he wanted to run his hands through his hair in frustration, none of his words coming out the way he wanted. He wanted to explain himself to Fetcher, wanted to let the other know why he’d acted that way. But he couldn’t seem to wrangle them, couldn’t seem to work through the heavy knot his thoughts around it all had become. It required thinking about how he’d come back. Thinking about what had happened immediately after. Explaining all the things he’d seen and felt and had to endure at Ra’s hand. And he couldn’t.

He wanted to reach out to Fetcher, reassure him with a gentle hand that he hadn’t meant any of it. Run his fingers through that soft, cloud-like hair. Cradle his face within his palms to show him that he was unafraid to touch a so-called monster. Anything, anything to be able to convey what he meant without having to say the words. But his hands sat useless by his side, wrapped to all hell from how much Joker had broken them. His own stupidity, his own vindictiveness, had landed him here.

But Fetcher simply smiled, small and sad, and shook his head. It’s okay, he seemed to say, you don’t have to explain.

And it frustrated him because he wanted to explain. Wanted to tell Fetcher everything. He frowned and decided that while he couldn’t go in depth, couldn’t fully talk about it, he’d at least give the other something.

“I was brought back,” he began, stolidly looking up at the ceiling, “by the League of Assassins. An association that’s just like it sounds and is led by an immortal man named Ra’s Al Ghul.”

He pursed his lips, skipping over quite a bit of detail to talk about what felt more relevant. “Ra’s has a- thing is really the best word for it, even when it isn’t at all actually? I don’t know. Anyway, he has a thing against- uh- my former mentor, I guess. And he brought me back to use as a weapon against him.”

He felt a chilled hand (and he supposed being a ghost would explain why Fetch was always so cold) rest against his forearm, not demanding or cajoling, just there in support. He wanted so badly to hold it.

“What he uses to keep himself immortal and what brought me back is called a Lazarus Pit. It’s- incredibly toxic and-,” he swallowed heavily, trying to come up with any way in which to describe the Pits, “green. Very green.”

A look of understanding washed across Fetcher’s face and his hand squeezed Jason’s forearm a bit in reassurance. It burned where he touched, where he was unused to gentle contact, and he wanted more. He wanted to reach out and do the same, to touch, to reassure. To goddamn feel something under his fingertips. But his hands were beaten, bruised, and broken. He was broken. Fundamentally, broken.

“I should have never-,” he tried to say, his words growing thick and hard to speak again, “never taken it out on you. Just because I died- just because I… was afraid. And-”

The hand that was on his arm moved, another hand joining it as they both cupped his face. Still so achingly gentle. Fetcher moved closer, knocking their foreheads together and keeping his stare steady with Jason’s. He wanted to flinch away, wanted to look anywhere but into those soft green eyes- light and beautiful like peridot- because he was so scared at what he would find there. Judgment. Anger. Fear. But there was nothing but a calm reassurance within them, nothing but a certainty Jason didn’t think he deserved.

And then those eyes slipped closed, long white eyelashes brushing pale white cheeks and Fetcher purred.

“Holy shit,” he gasped as it felt like he was being surrounded by the deep, thrumming purr. It was comforting in a way he couldn’t express, in a way he’d never felt before.

It felt like the first time he’d been wrapped protectively under Batman’s cape. Like the first time Alfred had given him hot chocolate with marshmallows after a rough night. Like the first time Dick had even acknowledged him as Robin. Like the first time Bruce had hugged him. Like the first time Alfred had told him how proud he was of him. Like those rare soft nights with his mother, where she had held him and rocked him once upon a time, before everything had gone so bad.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to bask in the sound and never listen to anything else.

A deep rumble started in his chest that made both of them startle back. Beetlejuice junior blinked, rapidly, before grinning and leaning forward again, purring back. It felt like a weird feedback loop where mister King Boo’s purr caused his own to start back up and then the other would purr harder and he didn’t really know what the fuck was happening here.

“I can purr,” he said, voice flat while trying to work out how, exactly, he felt about that (not all that bad apparently, because his own purr didn’t stop). He looked back to the little guy, who was grinning wide- pleased with himself, and said, “You can purr.”

Ghost of Smugness Present nodded, happy as anything, purr growing louder and glow, somehow, getting brighter.

“How the fuck,” he asked, without really asking, the rumble in his chest making his voice stutter just a bit. Fantastic.

And Casper, the all too-self-satisfied ghost, just shrugged. Great.

So- just a checklist of things he’d woken up to so far: Fetcher himself and all the emotional turmoil just seeing him caused, pain like no other from almost dying by the hands of the Joker again, finding out that Fetcher had died and hadn’t come back, finding out that he hadn’t come back- not correctly at least, fumbling an emotionally stunted apology, and finally- mutual purring.

This was too much. He wanted to go back to sleep right now please and thank you.

“You’re awake,” came a stern voice from the doorway and it made Jason knock back into the bed with a groan. The purring from both of them had stopped the moment she spoke.

“Dr. Thompkins,” he greeted, hoping against hope that she would just knock him back into unconsciousness so he wouldn’t have to deal with the world anymore. “Lovely as ever.”

“Red Hood,” she said curtly as she made her way into the small room and began a cursory exam. When she held a stethoscope to his chest he breathed in deeply without needing to be told. He wondered how bad his lungs sounded after all the smoke inhalation. He recognized the steps to check for a concussion next, checking his reflexes and pupil dilation and what felt like a dozen other things. She was methodical and stoic as she worked, not saying a word except to direct him for the next test.

“You know,” she started, finally breaking the silence and placing the stethoscope back around her neck, “for some reason, I expected to recognize you without the helmet.”

And it was only in that moment that he remembered he didn’t even have his domino on. Bare-faced to the world. In the room with someone who’d treated his wounds plenty of times when he was younger. The only thing keeping his identity hidden was his presumed death and puberty. Leslie had narrowed her eyes, gaze roaming over his sloppy black hair and blue eyes and no doubt wondering if he was somehow related to Bruce.

“Is it because I’m prettier than you expected?” he asked, deflecting, and batted his eyelashes up at her, hoping to get her to stop looking so closely.

“Hardly,” she drawled back, tone dry.

He could sense more than hear the little slimer gijinka laughing at him from his corner. Rude.

“In any case,” Leslie said, “I don’t know what you did to yourself this time, the unknown poison almost taking you out was bad enough, but this is going to keep you down for longer than you’d probably like.”

He closed his eyes with a sigh, “I figured as much.” He opened his eyes and told Leslie, sincerely, “Sorry for all the trouble, doc. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

She crossed her arms across her chest, white coat swaying with the motion, and made sure she had his full attention. “You’re going to need help. Whether you like it or not, your hands are the worst off and your other injuries mean you can’t exert yourself. If you try to recover on your own then you’re just going to end up back in my clinic with an infection or head injury because you fell trying to do too much all at once.”

“But-”

“No. I know your type. Secretive. Headstrong. Paranoid. I don’t care. My job is to make sure I don’t have to see you again unless its a check-up.”

He sighed again, something he felt like he was doing a lot lately. “Fine. I’ll find help.”

She nodded shortly. “Now, are you alright with your friend over there listening in or would you rather he step outside while I give you a run down of what to expect?”

Jason gave little banquo a considering look. Did he want Fetcher in the room to hear all the gritty details? He wasn’t exactly shy about his injuries and Fetcher had already seen and treated them on the scene anyway. He didn’t really care if the other heard or not. He watched as Fetcher twisted in his seat, nervous hands fluttering in his lap as he waited for Jason to make his decision. What cinched it wasn’t asking himself if he cared about the other hearing it all, but more about asking himself if he wanted Fetcher to leave. And, really, the answer was no. He didn’t want to make jellyfish leave.

“He can stay,” he finally answered, watching with a small smile as Fetcher seemed to slump in his chair a bit. He wasn’t the only one that didn’t want the other to leave then.

Leslie just nodded and settled down on a stool on the other side of the bed Jason was resting on. She swiveled it and pulled a file from the pocket of her coat, opening it and giving Jason a stern glare with each diagnosis she listed off.

“Fracture to the jaw on the right side, bruised ribs, smoke inhalation damage, lacerations everywhere, and a wound to the back of the head that I’m seriously surprised hasn’t shown signs of having caused a concussion. I’d say you were damn lucky if it weren’t for the mess your hands are in.”

“That bad?” he croaked, voice cracking as he asked. They hurt. They hurt like a bitch, and he was honestly afraid to find out the extent of the damage. He knew the Joker had done a number on them, but he’d be fine. He’d always been fine before, injuries always temporary- until they weren’t.

“Hood,” she said, lips pursed, “you’re lucky you still have them.”

He grimaced and closed his eyes, not wanting to hear the words. Not wanting to face that reality.

“I did what I could,” Leslie continued, “but I’m not a miracle worker. I can preform general surgery, but to properly reconstruct your hands would take an expert. And a miracle.”

She sighed and snapped the file closed and placed it on his lap. “The details are all in there, but you really need to get them checked out by an ortho specialist, a plastic surgeon, any team more equipped to deal-”

“No,” he said lowly, still refusing to look at the rest of the world around him. “I can’t go to anyone legit.”

“You could lose them, if you don’t,” the doctor snapped.

He said nothing, knowing she was right but not wanting to admit it.

The stool creaked as Leslie stood and made her way towards the door. “Whatever you decide, you’re going to need help. Your hands, if you want to give them any chance of healing correctly, need to rest.”

“Red Hood,” she said, tone serious and heavy. Reluctantly he opened his eyes and met her piercing stare. “You are going to have to trust whoever helps you with a lot. It will be embarrassing and invasive and make you feel incredibly vulnerable.”

She pointed a stern finger back at him, “Don’t chance losing your hands just because you don’t like it,” and then left.

Just- yet another bomb to drop on top of everything else so far. Had he even been awake an hour yet? How long had he been out? Was it still the same day? The same twenty-four hour period? Because if it was, Jason would like to classify all of this as one of the worst days of his life. Afterlife. Whatever. Top five. Not the absolute worst but definitely fucking up there.

He felt the tap of a cold finger against his shoulder and turned to face Fetcher, who was holding up his whiteboard and looking at him imploringly.

Will you let me help you?

And damn was spooks way too good at puppy-dog eyes. He’d ask the guy to put his gear back on to spare him the power of them, if he didn’t know that the suggestion would probably backfire spectacularly.

They were probably rushing this again. This trust thing. There were still so many secrets between the two of them, even if there were less now. Something was bound to give between them. Nothing good ever lasted in his life and Fetcher was just another person that would leave him eventually. He couldn’t die like his first mom had, so it’d probably be something worse. Jason would do something stupid and drive him away again, hurt him, make him leave.

But he’d take all the time he could get for now. He was a bit of a selfish bastard sometimes.

A quirked a small smile and said, “Sure, bedsheet boy.”

And he reveled in the sputtering look of offense that crossed Fetcher’s face. And he laughed when the other threw his marker at him, even though it hurt.

═════ ◈ ═════

“You got footage of him,” Tim stated as he stared up at the grainy image of the so-called Fetcher standing in front of the flames of the latest dock explosion.

“Mn,” Bruce replied, hands on the keys of the Bat-computer as he tried to enhance the image.

Tim squinted as the details only became more pixelated the further Bruce tried to zoom in. No amount of cleaning would render that image viable, but he left that opinion to himself. There was something he was able to notice, though.

“They really do look similar,” he muttered to himself, bringing up the image of the Doctors Fenton- that he’d yet to show Bruce- on his tablet.

Bruce stopped his work and turned to Tim without a word, demanding an explanation without actually demanding it. It was something that still put Tim on edge sometimes, but he’d convinced himself he was used to it. Tim handed the tablet over.

“It’s the best lead on Fetcher we have,” Tim rushed to explain. “The Hazmat suit he wears is customized and entirely similar to the ones worn and patented by the Fentons.”

He waited and watched as Bruce thumbed through what meager files he’d managed to scrounge up about the doctors; what they studied, where they’d studied, all their patents, their family history, the sketchy government agency they’d signed contracts with- everything he could scrape together. There were plenty of holes, strike-outs of huge swathes of information that he contributed to said government agency. Which was strange because Tim was usually so good at breaking into government severs and databases and really anything else he liked- but the GIW (a name he could not find the meaning of the acronym for) had protections like no other. What little he could find only mentioned warnings about keeping to paper and to watch out for someone called Technus.

“Ectoplasm,” Bruce stated, voice just as flat as usual. Tim winced.

“Yeah, I’m not too sure about that either,” he admitted. “But we’ve dealt with weirder things.”

“Mn,” Bruce said, tone suggesting he agreed. Then he turned and pulled all of Tim’s files onto the big screen, pulling the photos over to more directly compare. He sat down in the chair in front of the computer and focused his full attention on the task at hand.

Tim knew a dismissal when he saw one and decided to leave Bruce to his musings, figuring he could bribe Alfred into a late night cup of coffee. He felt disappointed in what little information he’d been able to offer Bruce, he needed to search more. Find more. Dig deeper. He could prove himself. He would do it. He’d help.

As he was making his way back to the manor he could swear he heard Bruce speaking to himself.

“So I really am being haunted.”

#naps fics #dp x dc #Our Empty Graves #dpxdc

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batcowmaster · 2 years

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on one hand I’m disappointed by the possible YJ cancellation for Damian, Jon, Dawn and Don reasons. The tease of Jason and Damian brotherhood, and them all finding out that not only was Jason alive but Damian was Bruce’s son, seeing more of Talia, Damian and Jon maybe becoming friends, etc. Notice how none of the things I’m excited about have any real presence in the last two seasons and I’ve given up on most of the characters and dynamics currently present because they give us almost NOTHING in ways of development.

But I’m also not because a lot of the dynamics I loved have corroded. Characters I desperately wanted to see more of didn’t get more or anything to do. There were storylines that lacked all tension and interest. Splitting the main team into THOROUGLY separated arcs in season 4 even when returning to the original characters was the stupidest move because what we all WANTED was to see more of their relationships. Even aside from me desperately wanting Wally back I would have been ecstatic for just the TEAM together. Additionally several arcs that were meant to be about a particular member...weren’t really about them. I mean, I think Will should have been part of the line-up considering his presence in season 1 but fine. Rocket’s was overshadowed by multiple other storylines, most of which had nothing to do with... anything, and Nightwing’s contained almost NOTHING about Nightwing. Jason died before season 2 and we STILL don’t know anything about how Dick dealt with it. What it meant to him and how he handled it. We see a little of him grieving Wally in season 3 but I would have liked to see more in season 4 about the cost of losing people to him and maybe his fears for Tim in the wake of that. Especially with Conner’s death and Jason actually being alive but brainwashed. The ending to season 4 was rushed beyond belief. Zod’s defeat seemed ridiculously easy and simple, wrapped up quickly after a season’s build up. And as someone who lowkey does not care (and often times hates) M’gann and Conner’s relationship that wedding sequence was not a satisfying conclusion. I wouldn’t have minded a scene of them getting married or kissing but I would have much preferred the focus remain on the original members taking stock and feeding into their relationships and dynamics after such an emotional journey. That romance is not the drive for the show for me - it’s that team of kids who loved one another and went all out for each other.

If YJ does get renewed I don’t know how much hope I have of actually seeing things I want to see and storylines that excite me. I’m still waiting on Tim getting development from season 2. Bart having a decent role again. Jaime?? Where are you?? My poor Wonder family never get any light. And Shazam has been neglected since s1. Etc. They keep adding in new characters who either don’t deliver or get proper story arcs or melt back into the background after a singular moment when characters that have already been established STILL don’t have development. I was so excited to see Orphan/Cass Cain but knew she’d be swallowed up again after her mini story arc. And this season I was hoping for the team again but got very little. All the things I’m interested in would be fun but how well they’d even be done I don’t know, and I honestly shouldn’t be hinging on a Young Justice show to give me Batfamily and Superfamily drama, let alone an eventual teamup between Super-Bat-Flash kids that have nothing to do with the original YJ team (beyond the already established passing on the team mantle from season 2).

Anyway, that’s my rant. As an avid fan of this series for years I’m a little upset but also not at all.

#long post #long post for ts

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bougenvilleeaa · 3 years

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Wholesome Batsiblings Moments in Nightwing #86

spoiler alert (duh)

1. Nightwing, Batgirl and Robin digging through rubble under the impression that the Batgirls (Steph and Cass) were in the building when it collapsed.

We don't get very many iconic Batsibling moments in canon, so this is a refreshing sight to see.

It really shows how much they care about each other. The way they're panicking and refusing to give up although they know that it's probably a lost cause to hope for Batgirls' survival. They absolutely refuse to accept the high possibility of losing members of their precious family.

This family has been through so much pain and loss over the years, most of them have experienced loss even before they were part of this family. But that doesn't mean they ever got used to it, just because they know and accept that it comes with the job doesn't mean they'll ever get used to the shock and grief of the probability of losing a family member.

Dick's internal monologue is absolutely heartbreaking, he thought he'd lost his sisters and he was in absolute denial. He even states that he knows its hopeless, but he refused to accept it, refused to believe that he had just lost the girls he grew to love.

As heartwrenching and sad this scene is, it also potrays how much they all care about each other perfectly.

2. Reunited with the Batgirls.

We hardly ever get to see many Dick x Steph wholesome sibling moments, so it's nice to see them sharing a hug for once.

They're so happy and relieved to see that Steph and Cass are okay. Tim and Cass have always been such good siblings and it's nice to see that fact being acknowledged by the way the hug, he looks genuinely happy to be hugging Cass.

It really feels like a happy family reunion.

3. Teasing the older siblings.

This has got to be one of the most accurate older sibling x younger siblings moments I've seen in the main canon of DC.

Tim has been stuck in between Dick and Babs' awkward (re)discovery of their relationship since issue #80 so he's probably ecstatic he can bug them about it freely now that they've finally kissed.

The best part is Steph and Cass joining in on the teasing when Tim told them about it, it's such a younger sibling thing to do.

Steph's giddy face, as if she's been waiting a long time for them to finally get to it. It's all so adorable.

Dick trying to be rational and prove a point, but Tim is having none of it and just continues poking fun at his older brother.

"I don't know what you find romantic." Look at that smug face, he knows what he's doing.

Babs, being the older sister she is, is obviously exasperated by their behaviour, yet she indulges Cass anyway when asked if it was a good kiss.

Playful banter among the Batsiblings truly make my heart a little warmer, they're so cute.

4. Kicking ass together.

I always love when they show larger panels with all of the present Batfam members (Urban Legends #6, Robin #5, Truth & Justice #16 - #18, etc.)

They always show how well they work together, the solidarity between siblings, the mutual understanding of each other's fighting stance, it's like they're harmonized even without realising it.

Batman must be proud to know that all his kids get along so well.

5. Nightwing putting Batgirl on a pedestal.

Dick knows his sister is a badass. And he isn't afraid to admit that she's the best fighter out of all of them.

Cass has been one of the most overlooked member of the Batfamily, most of the Batfam posts we see on Tumblr are usually about Batman and the Robins. I'm glad that people are starting to take more notice on the Batgirls, and in this case, Cass.

She has an interesting background, she was trained by David Cain and Batman, her mother is Lady Shiva. What's not to love about her?

By the way, Cass, your Batman is really showing in that panel, with your brooding stance and all. You really are his daughter huh.

Anyway, that's all I got for y'all today. Thanks for reading, and be sure to keep up to date with Nightwing!

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toastedside · 3 years

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For Better and For Worse

Batmom!Reader x Batfamily

Warning: angst, fluff in the end

Note: The last chapter for the miniseries! It was fun writing this, and I know it's been too long since I actually posted the first chapter. But it was fun. Enjoy!

Masterlist, Previous Chapter

Batman landed on his foot silently. His eyes scanned through the warehouse, before him was a gigantic machine with empty compartment that would fit one person. He quickly typed on the small computer on his wrist, sighing silently to himself as he waited for his scanning result to come.

“Batman,” come Superman’s voice through the comm. “Are you in?��

“I’m in,” Batman confirmed. “There’s a machine inside. It looks like somebody deactivated it before we come. I’m trying to transfer their data into my computer to get some information.”

“So Red Robin and Superboy were right,” Superman said again. There was a slight quiet sound of the wind behind him. Batman assumed he was flying as he answered through the comm. “The warehouse is empty as well. I think they had abandoned it.”

“We can’t be really sure about that,” Batman’s let out a huff as his computer displayed the transfer data has been finished. “I’m going to decipher some codes. Keep an eye on possible threat.”

Batman grunted softly as he squatted down to take a better look of the main controller device. It looked unassuming and tame while it was deactivated, but one better look alone could tell him that it would be deadly. He typed an override code on the main controller, his lips pressed firmly together as the machine slowly coming back to life.

From the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of movement that he had known too well. “I already told you to let the League take care of this.”

“Yeah, but it was me and Conner who found it,” Red Robin came into the light. He quickly approached the main controller and eyed it silently. “I have just successfully deciphered few codes that might help. If there’s anyone that could help, it would be me.”

Batman stared at him for a few moments. He weighed his options before let out a tired sigh. Figured there’s no way Red Robin would back out now. “Only to decipher the code. After that you leave the rest to the League.”

Red Robin nodded before he dove in right away into his work. Batman lingered for a few moments to watch, but as the machine starting to wake up more and more from its slumber, he left Red Robin with the controller device as he investigated. He studied the empty compartment silently, taking notes in how the machine was built.

“B, what did you type to activate the machine?” Red Robin called. There’s a slight confusion in his voice that robbed Batman’s attention.

“The code that have been transferred to my computer.”

“That’s not possible,” Red Robin whispered. Now he sounded so alarmingly surprised. “It’s different from what I decipher earlier. B, I think– I think there’s an error in this.”

Batman was about to open his mouth when the machine whirling dangerously. Red Robin quickly tried to type in an override code, but the more he tried, the more the machine whirling dangerously and begun to rattle. He lifted his eyes briefly and saw Batman tried to tame the machine, his shoulder pressed against the empty compartment as he grunted loudly. Suddenly, the whole room was too bright from him to see as a bright, white light coming from the core of the machine shone brightly. Red Robin called for Batman a few times before the machine whirled for the last time and exploded, sent Red Robin flying across the room and the machine crushed underneath the rubbles into oblivion.

=======================================

The footage cut off right away after the explosion, leaving you heaved for a sharp breath as the camera went blank. You could see the reflection of you own face on the screen, how horror seeped right through your skin and welled in your eyes. You were unaware with tears that streamed down your face until you saw your reflection. Behind you was your children, all wide eye from witnessing the footage.

“So that was the explanation for your dislocated shoulders months ago?” Dick asked, his tone was demanding and worried.

“Yeah. I am sorry I didn’t tell any of you sooner,” Tim said bashfully. Cass silently approached him and pulled him into a half-hug. Tim smiled in appreciation. “But did you see the light zapped from that machine briefly before it blows up?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I think that light was what took Bruce away,” Tim said firmly. He had spent so many nights watching the footage over and over again, he practically could recite it in his sleep. “That would explain the lack evidence of his dead body. Besides, if you notice,” Tim pressed play on the footage again, and paused right few seconds before the explosion. “He was already gone when the machine blows up.”

“Are you trying to say that machine was a transfer device?” Damian asked, his eyes watched the paused footage before shifted into his brother.

“Could be. I tried to work with all sources that I have, but I can’t possibly decipher all the codes since the machine blow up before I could transfer everything,” Tim rolled his chair in front of the Batcomputer, his fingers swiftly typed few codes that he had known by heart. The monitor showed a half-finished string of codes. “See. It’s all half-baked. My strongest theory that I can come up with it was the machine use the same technology used for Zeta Beams. More or less.”

“So… B isn’t dead from the explosion, he was transferred into another place before the machine blows up?” Jason asked slowly.

“Another place, another timeline, or dimension.”

“Shit,” Dick cursed. His fingers ran through his hair as he stared into the footage again. “If you were right, then Bruce is trapped and possibly having no idea on how to go back.”

“Call the League,” you finally found your voice back. You were surprised you could muster a coherent sentence with a firm voice. “I know what you’re all thinking. But this is dangerous. Call the League.”

“We have all the sources we could possibly need!” Damian argued. “From what I know, they abandoned the warehouse. The machine could still be there. We just need to salvage some data and move in motion after that.”

“I know that all of you are more than capable, but I am your mother. I have my limit. I have lost my husband; I am not going to lose my children too.” The firmness on your voice left no room to argue. You stared into your children one by one to emphasize your argument. “This is their mission after all. You all will work side by side with them. And none of you will work without them. Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, let’s go upstairs and eat some dinner. I’ll call Clark first thing in the morning, for now let’s just take some rest.” you ushered your children towards the staircase leading into the house.

Dinner was normal to say the least. But there was a growing tension that everyone had tried so hard not to talk about for their mother’s sake. You practically could see all of your children twitched in impatience and anticipation, all minds already long gone into a battle that still yet to happen.

“We’ll find him, Mom,” Dick said with a kiss on your temple at night before bed. You mustered your best reassuring smile, cradled your son in your arms. For the first time in a long time, you were scared for your children’s life.

Sleep seemingly unwilling to come that night. You spent the night tossed around relentlessly; mind wandered far into all possible scenarios that you could come up with. Was Bruce really out there, trapped in a place he didn’t belong? It had been three months without him, you didn’t want to get too hopeful. But a tiny part in your heart longed to be with him once more and wished to hold him in your arms again.

====================================

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you again,” Diana beamed as soon as her eyes caught your presence. It made her smile, as you walked towards her and quickly accepted her invitation for a hug. “I miss our girl’s night.”

You chuckled at the mention of your sacred night. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve called you sooner.”

“No, no. No apology. I understand what you’ve been through was hard and hurtful,” Diana was quick to squish your apology. “Besides, looks like somebody’s a little jealous that she isn’t invited into our small reunion.”

You followed Diana’s gaze, and a smile twitched at the corner of your lips at the sight of Dinah lurked in the corner. You laughed, gestured for her to come. Dinah came right away, a frown formed on her lips as she crashed you into a bone-crushing hug.

“My God, you have no idea how relieved and happy I am when you called!” Dinah breathed. She patted your back gently.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve called sooner.”

“I am glad either way,” Dinah said as she released you from her hug, but her hand lingered on your wrist before she let out a sigh. “We are here for you, all of us. We always will. And we’ll find him.”

“I don’t want to be too hopeful,” you said sullenly. “But whatever happen, I hope it helps the League to find the trail of whoever responsible behind this.”

The League had been called first thing in the morning, and now you had all of the superhero cramped together inside your house. You watched from the back of the room the briefing that Tim gave to the League upon the lead and dots he had connected in past three months. Your heart sank into your stomach like a sandbag upon watching the footage again where your husband presumed died three months ago.

Alfred came few moments later with a tray full of refreshment. He decided to stay at the back of the room with you, watching all of your children had meeting with the League.

“Even though I have witnessed this thousand time over, it’s never getting any easier,” you sighed as you broke the silence. “It feels like I am sending my children into a suicide mission with no precaution. To save their father. We don’t know the threat that might wait for them out there.”

“We never could shelter our children forever even if we wanted to. They ought to spread their wings out there one way or another. It’s their thing after all, they would never sleep before they find the answer,” Alfred offered a consolidation. “The best we can do is to make it as safe as possible. You have done that.”

You smiled. “Thank you, Alfred.”

==================================

It had been three weeks since the last time you witnessed all of the Justice League member cramped together inside your house for a meeting. Your children had been sent on a mission alongside the League. You couldn’t say you like it, but you saw the childish excitement Damian tried so hard to hide from the thought of fighting alongside the League, and opted to at least look approving. You were proud nonetheless.

The house was a little empty without most of your children’s presence as they’re out for a mission. Spared for Damian who was constantly sent home to attend school. Alfred had helped you to take care of Wayne Enterprise in Tim’s absence as you tore yourself in half between your work in hospital and taking the lead for the company, but it was still manageable at least.

Damian would tell you about the mission progress all the time, which sadly wasn’t much. But they still had baby steps progress nonetheless, and progress is still a progress. They have managed to salvage some valuable parts from the machine, but it wasn’t much of a lead to give them answer.

You get off from your car after you gather some courage to walk into an empty house again. The day had been long and tedious, you had just chewed out marketing department this morning and had to tended some patients in the afternoon. All of your muscles are sore and you wanted nothing but a long hot bath.

The house was empty just as you suspected. But you found a surprise as you stepped into the study room to grab some book to read. The grandfather’s clock was opened ajar, meaning somebody must have went downstairs into the Batcave. It could be Alfred cleaning up, but you found herself going downstairs.

Your eyes widened as soon as the sound of murmured conversations come into your ears. You descended down further; head perked up at the familiar sound you had missed so much. “Guys!” you practically shouted as you ran towards your children. “Oh my God, you’re all here.”

It was Jason who caught you first and welcomed you into his embrace. Your other children soon followed and trapped you in the middle, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. All of your fatigue and stress suddenly lifted from your shoulders now that all of your children are home safe and sound.

“How was your mission? All good? Are you guys safe?” come the string of questions you couldn’t help but to ask. You quickly check all of your children for any obvious injury, and you found yourself let out a long, relieved breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“We are, Mama,” Jason gently placed his hands on your shoulder to ground you. “We figure we might come home for a little while. It’s been a long time after all.”

“Yeah. I miss your beef stew,” Tim chimed in. “Can we have it for dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course,” you said as you gently cradled Cass in your arms. Cass clung into you like a baby koala for dear life, her nose nuzzled into your collarbone seeking for comfort. It made your heart soared and dropped at the same time, knowing that she found comfort in your presence and the fact that she must’ve had deprived for comfort that she actively seeks for it.

All of you shared blissful moment together, all shared some jokes and recite few relaxed and funny moments happened during mission. You were glad nonetheless, with Cass laid her head on your lap, Damian pressed against your side, and all of your children are here laughing and reciting some stories, you couldn’t ask for a better way to end the day.

The Batcomputer suddenly beeped, alerted everyone that somebody is coming. Dick quickly rose from his seat and take a solemn look to the computer screen. “It’s Uncle Supes and Wonder Woman,” he announced, a little confused at their arrival.

Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach. Does it mean all of your children had to go for a mission again?

The door to the Batcave opened not so long after, revealed two hero came into the light. All of your children were already on their feet and geared up, ready to dive back into the battle once they’re needed. But a strange expression coming from Diana and Clark somehow told you that it was not a mission.

“Clark? Diana? Is everything alright?” you were concerned. You found yourself pulled Damian into your side and firmly held him, afraid of letting your son go once more.

“Y/N, you might want to sit down,” Clark gently said.

Diana gently took you into her arms and led you into the nearest chair. You were still a little puzzled, your heart racing against your chest. Diana then gently placed her hand on your shoulders, her eyes solemnly staring into yours with an unreadable expression. It frustrated you greatly.

“Diana, what is going on?” you demanded.

“Hold on for a little while. But I need you to sit down.”

“What–” you opened your mouth to protest, but was cut off abruptly at the sight appeared in front of you.

You blinked rapidly, afraid that it was some mind trick that you weren't aware about. You found yourself awestruck, unable to move, but at the same time unable to believe your own eyes. You heaved few heavy breaths that sounded like you were half laughing and half crying, your mouth went agape at the sight alone.

“Holy shit,” you could hear Jason cursed loudly. “Holy shit. It works.”

So it was real, then.

There he was. Your husband. The one and only Bruce Wayne. Completely alive albeit looked a little gruff and exhausted. He had some rough stubble all over his chin, and the usual light in his eyes had dimmed. You could only stare and stare, your mouth let out few incoherent noises that was only above whisper.

Bruce slowly approached you. As if he was afraid, but the corner of his eyes lifted up happily at the sight of you stared at him like a deer caught in the headlight. From this close distance, you could see his eyes glossed from tears that started to well in his eyes. You watched him kneeled in front of you.

“Honey,” Bruce said as he gently took your hand into his. “I am so sorry.”

“Bruce,” you let out a shaky breath, sounded as if you were strangled. Your unoccupied hand shakily covered your trembling lips, eyes widened in disbelief. “Is this… is this really you? Are you real?”

Bruce gently took your hand and placed it on his rough cheek. There was a growing eye bag underneath his eyes. He looked so much older and tired than the last time you had remembered him. “It’s me. It’s me. As real as I could be.”

There are few beats of silence before you let out a strangled cry. You cupped his face with your hand, thumb gently stroking his cheeks. The stubble on his chin felt rough underneath your skin, but you found yourself loving the way it felt. “Bruce Wayne, you little shit! You promised that we will die together when we’re grey and old in our nineties!”

Bruce let out a surprised chuckle. It was warm and familiar, and you had missed it so much. It had been way too long since the last time you heard his laughter. “Therefore, here I am. Coming back to you to fulfil my promise.”

You smiled shakily as you laughed through the tears that stubbornly streamed down you face. You leaned closer to rest your forehead against his. “Don’t pull that stunt on me again.”

“I promised you I will always come back to you. And I do.”

“What happened?”

“The machine that I investigated had sent me into far past. I was trapped there unable to come back home, but I managed to survive. Until I met Barry, he said that he able to finished and decipher all the code gathered and redesigned the machine to bring me back. And therefore, here I am,” Bruce explained. “The warehouse was a trap set up to harm me. But Tim managed to inserted some codes before it exploded, so it sent me into different time instead of kill me in explosion. We figure it was a part of Injustice League’s scheme.”

“All I could think about was you. I worried about you and the kids. Sometimes the only thing that could get me through the day was the thought of that one day I will finally able to come back home to you.” Bruce placed a tender kiss on your knuckles. “You have managed to save me over and over again. Thank you.”

You couldn’t muster up any single words, so instead, you threw yourself into his embrace. Soon all of her kids would join and trapped you in the middle. Although Jason acted as if he hated it, you knew that deep inside his heart he was relieved to have his father back. Dick didn’t even bother to hide his excitement; he was just happy his family was whole once more.

That night, for the first time in forever, the night didn’t feel long and tedious. Or torturous. But neither of you and Bruce could able to sleep in a wink, you and him just hold each other close and greedily craved for each other’s presence. No words exchanged between you and him, however. But you were relieved. You were reunited with your love once more, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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fandom-writer642 · 4 years

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Street Rat Christmas

Summary: It’s (Y/n)’s first Christmas season with their new family but they don’t want to give up an old tradition. The problem? Jason and Selina are the only one’s in the family that have heard of the tradition, a Street Rat Christmas. The Batfamily, the Kent’s, and the Outlaws are going to be in for the culture shock of their lives as they find out why Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning are always so peaceful in the City of Demons, no matter the crimes that took place just before.

Note: Gender Neutral!Reader, Sweet and Friendly!Reader

Warning: Mention of Death

•••

Yet another sigh escaped from (Y/n)’s lips as they watched the snow gently fall to the ground through the window. The book that they were reading was abandoned in their lap as their (e/c) eyes watched the snowflakes shine and float down in the golden sunlight. Damian couldn’t help but frown at his sibling’s actions, he had been with his father for the past five years and he himself understood that Christmas was a time to be happy. Yet, he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that his normally happy sibling was depressed. Even Damian felt rather pleasant and calm during the two days the holiday was overly focused on.

“Is something the matter (L/n)? Typically you’re more chipper.”

“It’s just my first Christmas without my parents,” (Y/n) replied to him rather sadly. They were remembering how fun Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning always was for their family. Perhaps they could sneak out tonight and join the festivities? “It’s strange, we would be out preparing by now.”

Damian gave (Y/n) a rather quizzical look at that. He understood when they said that they would miss their parents, he couldn’t blame them. However, (Y/n) didn’t come from an amazing or rich family so the preparation note caught him off guard. (Y/n) could’ve been dubbed a street rat by many different people before Bruce had adopted them, and Damian was pretty sure that they had been called a street rat before. Hearing them say preparing was a strange thing, it wasn’t possible for their family since they couldn’t afford something big. Yet, it sounded like a yearly thing for his newest sibling to go through during the holiday season. (Y/n) shot him a smile before they left for their room, taking their book with them. Damian left the study shortly after (Y/n) had left and found himself at the enterance of the living room.

The room was lovely and had many decorations hung up around the room, making it look like the room had been part of a winter wonderland competition and the music in the background was a nice touch. Dick was sitting in an arm chair with Kori on his lap as the pair talked to Roy and Jason who sat on the closer end of the couch. Tim was talking to Kon and Lois on the other side of the couch while Cass talked quietly with Steph, Barbara, and Kate. Selina was sitting next to Bruce as he talked with Clark who had Jon at his side. The room was rather busy with chatter and far too loud for his tastes but he had learned to live with it at this point.

“Hey Damian!” Jon called out to his friend when he noticed him at the entryway. All conversation turn to a pivoting stop to the point that the sweet Christmas songs filled the air of the room. It was a known fact that Damian didn’t spend much time with his family on Christmas Eve until after lunch which was in two hours. “I was wondering where you were.”

Damian nodded his own greeting and understanding to his friend’s words. “I’m sure Jon. I’m however curious about something that doesn’t quite involve me but it does involve (L/n).”

That had caught the whole room’s attention. Everyone knew that (Y/n) was a helpful and sweet soul with little to absolutely no hurtful bone in their whole body.

“Is she alright?” Dick asked worriedly.

“Currently, I’m unaware. I’m well aware that it is their first Christmas without their family but they said something that peaked my interest.”

“What was it?”

“Well, they simply said that their family and themself would be out preparing for some sort of event at this point in time.”

Damian didn’t miss the look that Selina and Jason shared with the other, or the faint smiles on their lips. They had a look in their eyes that was similar if not identical to the one (Y/n) had held not that long ago.

“Preparing for what?” Tim asked curiously. His younger sibling tended to keep closer to Damian and Jason more than anyone else the family knew with the exception perhaps being Alfred.

Damian simply shook his head and kept himself from insulting the older boy, “I’m unaware. It simply peaked my interest because as we all know, (L/n) didn’t come from a very financially stable family. The way that they talked made it sound like an annual event.”

“A tradition on Christmas Eve? In Gotham?” Roy had almost laughed in disbelief. “That’s completely ridiculous. You said it yourself demon spawn, (Y/N) came from a pretty poor family, they don’t exactly have an overwhelming amount their family and them could do.

“No true,” Jason cut off before anyone could agree with his redhead friend. “I actually knew (Y/n) before she ever even met Bruce and moved in because of the festivities that take place on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. Most people call it a Street Rat Christmas but the official term is a Street Rat Holiday. To put it simply, it’s the only break any street rat or poor family tends to get throughout the whole year.”

Bruce leaned forward at the newly acquired information. To him it sounded just like a charity event that takes place on Christmas Eve and Christmas in the worker side of town. The man couldn’t help but feel surprised that he had never heard of such an event even though he lived in Gotham for so long.

“How much do you know about it?” Tim asked.

“A lot,” Jason replied with a simple shrug of his shoulders. “I still tend to go every Christmas Eve no matter what. I don’t count the years I was either dead or presumably dead but I still go, I don’t care if there is a mission, I go.”

“What happens?

“Peace,” Jason smiled slightly. “We should go tonight. You guys just can’t attack or snap at anyone, you have to enjoy yourselves.”

“Why on earth would we snap or attack?” Dick spoke in surprise.

Jason couldn’t stop the small snort or the smirk pulling on his face. “Villains attend the festivities as well. There was an arrangement made between the villains, people, and GCPD that as long as they didn’t harm or make any sort of threats to anyone for that night or the next morning that they could attend.”

“And people talk and interact with them?” Kate spoke up, looking rather stunned by the information.

Selina couldn’t help but nod in agreement, “indeed. I attended a few years back and (Y/n) was there with their family while talking to all sorts of people. They mostly talked to Riddler, Two-Face, and Penguin when it came to interacting with the villains but they did interact with every villain. That includes Joker. Their family was always active in helping set up the event.

Jon had perked up like a puppy dog before speeding out of the room and up the stairs before coming back with a rather flustered looking (Y/n) in his arms. Gently he set them down on the floor which caused them to let out a small sigh of relief. It wasn’t like they didn’t trust Jon, they did, but it was different when he came into their room, picked them up and rushed them down to the living room at super speed. They were still getting used to the whole “living with superheroes” thing as it had only been two months since they moved in.

“What is going on?” They questioned after a moment.

“Just talking about how a Street Rat Christmas functions,” Jason replied to his younger sibling.

No one could miss the way that (Y/n)’s eyes had lit up at the mention of the event. They seemed happier almost immediately at the reminder of the event.

“Oh! Can we go?” (Y/n) turned to Bruce with large kitten eyes that Selina most definitely approved of. “Pleeeeaaaassseee?”

Bruce chuckled at his child’s beg for approval. He already knew what his choice was going to be but first, “I want to know more about this event before I agree to anything.”

“Well, where did I leave off?” Selina wondered. The newest family addition sat on the floor near Bruce and Selina while dragging Damian down and over with them.

“Villains,” Kori reminded.

Selina snapped her fingers with a smile, “right!”

–––

The group had arrived at a large park filled with people and laughter. A giant tree stood tall in the middle of the park and was decorated with all sorts of different and even strange ordiments that were clearly brought or made by the people at the party. Damian could help but let a faint smile appear on his lips as his sibling dragged him toward the main party.

None of the secret heroes could miss the villains in the crowd that greeted the pair with an honest to god real smile. They even saw Joker gift (Y/n) with a very pretty box, the fact made them tense at the sight but for some reason Jason was calm about it. He was calm about seeing his murderer gift his little sibling with a box that could very easily hold a trigger bomb. It made no sense and yet that is how it played out. The young Wayne had opened the gift with a smile and found it to be a purple and green scarf, something that was clearly made with the help of the Riddler.

The family moved around and tried the different activities such as a snow man building contest (Tim and Dick got third place), a scavenger hunt (Damian, Jason, and (Y/n) had easily won that), dance battle to Christmas music (Selina joined forces with Ivy and they got fifth), create an ordiment to hang on the giant tree, ice Christmas cookies, drink hot cocoa, ice skating, a Christmas song karaoke challenge, and many more events. Homeless kids and families were given blankets and clothes as well as other supplies at the end of the night. At three minutes to midnight everyone had gathered around the tree and many were talking excitedly, the kids especially.

“We wish you a merry Christmas”

The Waynes were surprised when everyone began to sing in perfect harmony, the villains, Jason, (Y/N), Selina, and many others were leading the uncertain children and newcomers in the song. Jason had a young girl in his arms who was singing along with him while looking at the glowing tree.

“We wish you a merry Christmas/ We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year”

Dick, Kori, Roy, and Steph had joined in the singing as well but to their surprise so had Damian. It was much quieter than the others but still noticeable enough.

“Good tidings we bring to you and your kin/We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year”

As everyone sang Bruce had decided one thing, he was going to have to participate in a Street Rat Christmas every year until he died. His family had been happier than they have in ages while Selina, Jason, and (Y/n) all got to keep a familiar tradition close to them and have the time to remember those that they love and miss; they all did.

•••

Merry Christmas and happy holidays! I hope you all have enjoyed this mini story and have a good holiday! I’m so sorry about lack of activity but I’ve been sooooo busy and a lot of things have been going on with my family so I’ve been stressed. Cya next time! I’m planning Batfamily x Reader x Miraculous Ladybug with Damianette in it, I’ve fallen into a hole and I can’t get out. That story will probably be a series but bare with me, I have little to know means to write as of recent do to issues.

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peppersonironi · 4 years

Text

Batfam/Avengers Crossover Chapter Three: Morning Routines

Tagging: @the-fair-maiden-of-fandom

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types

Relationships: Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Natasha Romanov & Damian Wayne, Clint Barton & Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tim Drake & Duke Thomas, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Jason Todd,

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Justice League (DCU), Alfred Pennyworth, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Alfred the Cat (DCU), Bat-Cow (DCU), Goliath (DCU), Selina Kyle’s Cat Isis, Kate Kane (DCU), Duke Thomas,

Additional Tags: Batbrothers (DCU), Avengers Meet The Batfam, MCU/Batfam crossover, Crossover, no beta we die like robins, rated T for Jason’s language, I bleeped it out though. Just to be safe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, canon? What’s canon?, Deaf Clint Barton,Deaf Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Happy Batfamily (DCU), Birdflash and joyfire are implied/referenced,

Summary: Now that the Avengers have begun to settle into the Manor, they get to know the inhabitants.

Notes: Yo, I do take requests for scenarios, pov’s, and characters to show up!

Steve awoke in one of the most comfortable beds he had ever slept in. For a moment he was relaxed as the sun streamed in through the large window. Then he sat straight up. How did he get here?

Then he remembered. After the Justice League had left, Batman - he still felt weird calling him Bruce - led them into an elevator which emerged in a richly adorned sitting room. The entrance to the elevator being in the Grandfather clock which lay to the side of the room. A butler - a butler! Even Tony didn’t have one of those - had met them there. Batman had informed him that they would be staying for a while, and the butler had quickly led them to free rooms, assuring the Avengers that clothes would be provided before dinner. He had spoken the truth, as a change of clothes were provided shortly. Steve suspected they were pilfered from the manor’s residents.

Steve got out of bed and went over to the neatly stacked pile of clothes, and got dressed. He had been given cargo pants and a gray t-shirt. He then left his room and began to follow the smell of breakfast - a heavenly mixture of coffee, maple syrup, bacon, and blueberry pancakes.

Nat, Tony, and Clint were already in the kitchen when he arrived. They were sitting on stools at the island along with Tim Drake and Cassandra Cain. The Butler was placing a heaping pile of pancakes on the table whilst handing Tim a pot of coffee.

Steve walked over and sat down. "Good morning," he said. "They look great sir, thank you."

The Butler smiled. "Call me Alfred, everyone else does." He spoke with a crisp british accent, which Steve hadn’t noticed the evening before.

Steve nodded as he took some pancakes and bacon. Everyone else started chowing down as well, with the exception of Tim. Tim looked horrible, if Steve was being honest. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his lids were drooped.

Tim was about to pour some coffee, when Steve noticed he was clearly going to miss the mug. Steve opened his mouth to say something when Cassandra Cain reached over and casually pushed the mug over.

Tim filled up the mug. He either hadn’t noticed, or hadn’t cared.

Cassandra went back to her seat. "You sleep?"

Tim shrugged. "No more than usual. I had patrol, then worked on that eastside murder case."

Cassandra frowned. “ Sleep ,” she said vehemently.

"What's patrol?" Clint asked curiously.

Tim frowned. “We go out and patrol Gotham. Take care of crime. Typical vigilante stuff.”

This gave Steve pause. “You handle petty crime?”

Tim blinked. “You don’t? I thought you said you were superheroes?"

Natasha nodded. “So you’re like Peter. He protects Manhattan. The rest of us only got together due to an alien invasion. We’re what you would call the . . . heavy hitters.”

Cassandra nodded. “City needs us. Without . . .” She pursed her lips and moved her hands around. “Bad things happen.”

“Once you have finished, might I suggest you explore the manor or cave?” Alfred said as he placed more bacon on the table. “Master Bruce has a full gym and training areas in the Batcave which you are welcome to use. After all, if you are to stay here, you might as well have something to do.”

Steve stood up from his now finished meal. “Thank you Alfred, I believe I will. I think I remember the way to the cave. Thank you for the meal.”

Tony nodded. “See you down there, I guess.” Clint and Natasha agreed.

*****

Steve entered the cave to find that he was not the first one there. Standing on the main platform was an honest-to-god cow.

It was brown and white, with stubby horns and a baleful look. On its forehead was a brown patch that looked suspiciously like a bat. The cow mood.

“Bat-Cow! Get away from the invader!” Damian Wayne swooped in out of nowhere and landed in front of the now named Bat-Cow. “What are you doing in the cave?” He asked, his sword drawn and pointed at Steve’s chest.

“The butler - Alfred - said I could come down here to workout,” Steve replied. He was still trying to get over the fact that a cow was in front of him, being guarded by an eleven year-old in black training clothes that looked a lot like a ninja’s.

“T-t,” Damian replied, clearly unimpressed.

“Well, um. . . Is that a cow?” Steve couldn’t help himself.

“Yes of course. Are you blind? This is Bat-Cow. Bat-Cow, this is one of the invaders by the name of Steve Rogers. Stay away, he’s probably not even a vegetarian.” With that, the boy and the cow strolled away, and Steve turned to go.

*****

Steve found the gym platform and set to work. It was quite nice equipment, and Steve enjoyed using it. He wasn’t the only one, as both Jason Todd and Stephanie Brown were there with him in gym clothes. They both wore gray sweatpants, but Stephanie also wore a purple sports bra, almost the same color as her suit. Stephanie was using some resistance bands and Jason was bench pressing.

Steve walked in muttering about cows, which gained a smile from Jason, who inevitably heard him.

“If a cow surprises you,” Jason said between lifts, “then wait till you see Goliath.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve asked as he settled into a warm-up.

“One of Damian’s other . . . pets.” Stephanie said, a grimace on her face. “But boy, I can’t wait till I see your face!” She laughed as she finished up, and moved onto chin-ups.

Steve frowned, but let it slide. There was silence after a while as he settled into his routine. Eventually he moved over to bench presses. He began to set up the weights, glad there were so many, as he usually needed a lot more than the average man.

Steve looked over at Jason, who was still pressing. On closer inspection he was benching almost 400 pounds.

“Do you have super strength,” Steve asked before he could help himself.

Jason snorted and finished up his last few reps, setting the bar down then sitting up. He wiped his face as he answered Steve. “Nope, I don’t need superstength to get these babies.”

He lifted up his arms and flexed. This sent Stephanie into a giggle fit. “You,” She said between snorts, “Jason Peter Todd, are utterly ridiculous.”

Jason smiled as well before turning back to Steve. “But really, none of us bats have super strength. All we have is skill, and kicka** personalities.”

Steve frowned, but nodded anyway. He went to begin bench pressing when Stephanie asked him, “That Stark guy said you were a supersoldier, I assume that super strength comes with it?”

“Yup. There was an experimental serum that the scientists of World War II chose me to test. I worked in the army for a while, before I got frozen in ice due to taking down a Nazi ship. I got rescued and joined the Avengers to help stop an alien invasion.”

Jason muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “cheater.”

Stephanie glared at him. Before standing up and speaking cheerfully “Well, I’m going to go spar with whoever’s available. See you later?” Stephanie walked off, grabbing a purple water bottle on the way out.

Jason nodded. He moved on in his workout, and Steve went back to his bench presses. After a while, Jason had left to spar. Steve finished up himself, then decided to follow. He remembered seeing a fighting area on his way down, so he left the gym and started his search.

*****

Steve didn’t have to search for long, as the platform in question was easily the most crowded. It was the largest, with some thin mats on the floor. Steve wasn’t sure that they would provide much protection.

Thor was standing near the center, holding Mjolnir, and looking quite uncomfortable. He was seemingly being questioned by Damian, Jason, and Cassandra. Tim, Duke, Peter, Nat, Bruce (Banner), Tony, Bruce (Wayne) and Clint stood to the side. Their faces were a mixture of worry (Nat, Bruce Banner, Tony, and Clint), Amusement, (Tim, Dick and Duke), and confusion (Peter and Bruce Wayne).

Steve walked up to Nat. “What’s going on?” He asked.

“They're questioning the technicalities of being worthy of the hammer,” She said with a frown. “Specifically how many and how often you murder to be excluded.”

Steve frowned right along with her as he turned to the conversation.

“But is there a time frame?” Jason was asking. “Like say you don’t kill for like two weeks, and you’ve been super good? Would that get you points?”

“Uh. . .” The look on Thor’s face was priceless.

“T-t,” Damian said. “What about the technicalities behind the actual murder? Perhaps if a seven year old went on a killing spree? Would age exempt him?”

“I’m not sure a child would-”

“Not their fault?” Cassandra asked. “Forced? Didn’t know?”

Jason frowned. “Yeah, would the kid be declared unworthy if they were forced to kill? Or they didn’t know what they were doing?”

“Well, I-”

“What about mind control? Manipulation? Amnesia?” Jason asked.

“I’m sorry, but -”

“Do the more you kill, the more unworthy you become?” Damian asked, “Or until you hit a certain body count, it's a free-for-all?”

Thor sputtered. “Free-for-all?!”

“Or what if they were really bad people?” Jason asked. “Like other murderers? Pedophiles? Rapists? Drug dealers who sell to kids? If they did something wrong, would that cancel out your own wrongness?”

“These kids are hard-core,” Clint muttered.

“They raise a good point though,” Duke replied.

Tim nodded. “Ten Bucks its Damian who throws dear Thor off the edge.”

“Cass is feisty though.” Dick replied

Duke snorted. “Hah, never bet against Jason!”

All three exchanged handshakes.

“Okay,” Jason said, waving his arms about as he spoke with the utmost seriousness. “Does the way you kill affect how bad it is? Like would slowly and painfully bleeding to death be worse than a bullet to the head? Or say a sniper rifle compared to a handgun? Since one is more personal?”

Thor gaped at the young man.

“ Why kill.” Cassandra asked. “Told? Want? Accident?”

“What if it was to save yourself?” Damian asked. “If it was self-preservation, would that account for anything?”

“What if you were saving someone else?” Jason added. “Either directly, or just making the world a safer place?”

Thor frowned. “I do not speak for Mjolnir, but I assume all murder is murder.” The kids looked disappointed, so Thor continued. “However, if you wish to try to lift it, You have my permission to do so.”

“Naw, it's okay,” Jason said as the kids walked off looking dejected. “Doubt we could anyways, as Thor here just clarified.”

This caused the most uproar out of everything else in the conversation. Thor looked stricken, along with Peter, Bruce Banner, and Tony. Natasha and Clint looked at each other worriedly, Bruce Wayne, Tim, and Duke just rolled their eyes. And Steve was just confused.

“You kill?” Steve asked, as he started to worry if this universe was much more different than he had originally thought.

“Cassandra, Damian, and Jason had … unusual circumstances.” Bruce Wayne said simply. There was a silence after that. Then Bruce continued. “Well, we were about to start some sparring. If you’d like to join us, you are more than welcome to.”

Steve stood straight. He’d been looking forward to seeing them fight. “Sure,” he said as Tim, Dick and Duke exchanged ten dollar bils. “Sounds fun.”

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runnfromtheak · 4 years

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fanfic author’s tagging game (yay!)

Thank ya darling for tagging me!!!! @boyblunder-thedarkheir!!!!!

AO3 Name(s): LostandLonelyBirds aka RUNNFROMTHEAK

Fandom(s): Primarily Batfamily (so, Dick Grayson) and Young Justice (along with DCU obviously, but I also dabble into Miralculous Ladybug, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter, and MCU (none of which I will ever seriously write for? Idk man).

Number of fics: 22 I will admit to (how do you have so many, my dear @boyblunder-thedarkheir? What is your secret?)

1. Fic you spent the most time on: Are we talking writing or thinking about writing, cause those are two very different answers. I spent the most time writing this bitch of a fic I’m working on right now, and the most time thinking about the two latest installments of my main series, Death is But An Illusion (aka How Could He and How Could It Be). I agonize over every goddamn detail with Dick’s anger, Jason’s Jason-ness, and every person’s every move and word. I am a mess, and I’m going to be murdered if I don’t update them soon. I am not sorry about that XD

2. Fic you spent the least time on: You Came Behind Me Secretly and Shattered Every Piece of Me (There's Blood On My Hands) aka my pick-your-own-canon clusterfuck of Dark!Dick Grayson and Dick Grayson being traumatized and tortured with no comfort (Some of them are so fucked up I question my own mind). I take less than an hour to write 80% of them, cause they’re short, and they very rarely take any time to plan. Fun and easy!

3. Longest Fic: At present, he had a chest full of heart and a body full of scars (pain became the only way that he could ever learn) is my longest, but the fic I’ve been hinting at on my other tumblr, @lostandlonelybirds is easily double the length (why do I do this to myself? Why am I like this?) the long boi (named one, not the one I won’t shut up about) is easily my best fic at the moment, and I’m so excited to write a sequel whenever I get the chance.

4. Shortest Fic: With Bated Breath and Pain You See (We're Nothing More Than Memories) technically, I have one shorter than that, but it’s a collab that wasn’t my original idea so I’m not counting it :)

5. Most Hits: You Came Behind Me Secretly and Shattered Every Piece of Me (There's Blood On My Hands) why do you people like this trash-fire so much? I don’t understand

6. Most Kudos: How Could He which does not surprise me.

7. Most Comment Threads: Technically, How Could He followed by the trash-fire AU title thing I’m too lazy to type again, but I’m gonna love on this one: Just Close Your Eyes (No One Can Hurt You Now) because it’s my baby, and it deserves it okay?

8. Fave Fic You Wrote: Ooo we are doing a top five.

5. How Could It Be (Jason is precious and sad and Dick is oblivious, and I love one-sided pining wayyyy too much)

4. How Could He (I put my life force into this stupid fic, so ofc it’s here)

3. I'm Scared to Live But I'm Scared to Die (I'm Numb Inside) (the suicidal boy, major trigger warning)

2. I See Things That Nobody Else Sees (And It's Slowly Killing Me) (the only fic I’ve ever written from Cass’s perspective, and definitely one of the creepiest and most fucked up. Bruce does not look good here)

1. he had a chest full of heart and a body full of scars (pain became the only way that he could ever learn) (so ummm Bruce doesn’t look good here either? RHATO #25 if DC wasn’t cowardly and let Dick react how he actually would, aka fuck Batman is the new motto)

9. Rewrites?: Fuck. All my older ones? Everything? Who knows.

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning:

Let’s do two. I’m nice.

First comes from How Could It Be:

“You loved him,” Donna says, ignoring his barb. “You loved him, and no one’s seen you or heard from you and I’m concerned, damnit.”

She punches his shoulder roughly, and he’s reminded of her strength, no matter how small she seems in her dead best friend’s sweater.

“I’m fine. Peachy-keen. Couldn’t be fuckin’ better. Honestly, you should be more concerned with Replacement, don’t think he’s slept in—”

“Jason.” Her voice is firm, even as her eyes swim with tears and she holds her arms tight to herself, breathing in the well-loved item’s scent. Jason wonders when Dick wore it last, if Donna had taken it from his abandoned Gotham Penthouse or his Chicago Apartment. He wonders if he’d left it draped over the couch, like the natural disaster he was, or if it had been folded neatly in a drawer.

For someone who prides himself on not being sentimental, Jason suddenly wishes he had something of Dick’s too.

“I’m here because I care, and because if Dick was here, he’d be doing the same thing I am.”

“But he ain’t here,” Jason snaps, “Is he?”

Donna’s head falls, and he feels like a giant jerk. He just… reacts poorly to that name, hasn’t heard it spoken since the transmission and subsequent funeral, since the guy he’d had the hots for since wearing the scaly panties had his mask ripped away and his life taken in front of Bruce’s eyes (who, to absolutely no one’s surprise, failed to save his son).

In the aftermath, no one said Dick Grayson’s name, always Nightwing, or some inane nickname the superhero community had for him. Last time he said it was to Damian, a failed attempt at comfort. But even Jason’s form of mutual grieving had been better than any of Bruce’s shit ideas. Bastard immortalized the ripped costume from his own son’s corpse (not that it had been the first time) and hadn’t even had the decency to give it a plaque (No ‘Good Soldier’ or ‘Good Son’, just a bare glass case with a bloody suit). Which… was weird. Jason was far from B’s best friend, but even he noticed something seemed strange, off, just not quite right. Like the funeral he didn’t speak at, like the breakdown none of them had witnessed beyond a one-off rage fit

“B, what the fuck happened down here?”

The Batcave was a disaster, dents glaringly obvious in several vehicles and a large spiderweb crack across the Batcomputer. Bruce closes the screen down, but Jason manages to catch a spiraling eye.

“Nothing, just…”

Bruce looks at the spare Nightwing costume none of them had taken down yet, still clean and ready for use (too bad its owner died and would never wear it again).

“Dick?” Jason questions, and the way Bruce’s eyes snap to his face is almost suspicious, almost enough to arouse concern.

“Yes. I—”

Jason sits next to Bruce on the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I miss him too, Old Man. Don’t mean you need to be an ass about it.”

A memorial next to Jason’s own, but Dickhead’s is empty and broken from Damian’s fists and grief, and Jason’s is just gone. No one told him why, it was just gone.

Kind of like Dick.

He wonders if Bruce would have told him if the video hadn’t been broadcast, if he would’ve told anyone. B did love his fuckin’ secrets.

“No,” she whispers, and he can hear the tears in her voice, can feel her grief as keenly as his own. It’s palpable, tangible, “He’s dead, and I’m alive, and I don’t know how to handle it.”

And then, to Jason’s mounting horror, she starts crying openly.

…..

Second comes from my one I’m working on rn with Stray!Dick called I See Sunset In Your Eyes (I Hate This Part Right Here)

“Come on,” Wally says with a pout, dragging an overly amused Jason and Dick with him through the karaoke bar doors. “Donna and Roy are waiting for us, and Dick had to take forever to primp.”

Dick shrugs with a grin.

“Beauty takes time, time I can tell you did not take.”

Jason snorts, and Wally glares at him.

“At least I don’t take five hours to finish getting ready.”

“At least I can last longer than five minutes.”

“Ouch!” Roy butts in, throwing an arm around Jason and Dick’s shoulders. “Claws are out tonight!”

“Speaking from experience?” Jason asks, eyebrow raised.

Dick smirks without comment, sauntering past the group towards the table Donna’s lounging at.

“Hey gorgeous twin of mine,” He greets with a kiss to her eyes. She smirks, rolling her eyes at him.

“You’re just stroking your own ego with the twin tacked on, Wonder Boy.”

Dick bumps his shoulder against hers.

“Can’t I stroke both our egos?”

“You can stroke mine,” Wally mutters, turning red when Stray winks at his phrasing. Jason and Roy both facepalm, groaning. “Not what I meant guys!”

“Why Kid Idiot,” Dick replies, hand on his heart, “I had no idea you could be so forward~!”

Wally glares, waving over the waitress.

“Round of shots, on this dick,” he jerks his thumb at Stray, offering up his fake ID. She doesn’t bother checking it, probably because this is Gotham, and they were all in uniform. “Whisky, please.”

“Trying to get me drunk?” Jason jokes. It is, after all, his first big outing with the Titans for non-mission reasons. Stray had practically dragged him out of the Manor with a wink at Alfred and a middle finger for Bruce, saying that Jason needed to have fun outside of books.

Jason knows better than arguing with Dick Grayson-Kyle when he wants something, Stray trained him well.

“Of course, Batboy,” Roy replies, “It’s not a Titans outing if Stray is fully dressed and everyone’s sober.”

Dick shrugs.

“You’ll have to get some real liquor in me if you want me to do anything like last time.”

“Last time?” Jason asks, looking to Donna for an answer. Dick snorts. You get near naked one time…

“Boy Blunder ended up in just his boxers in a dancing cage drunk of his ass. Everyone thought he was one of the strippers, and he made, what, three-hundred dollars in bills?”

“Five-hundred,” Dick replies proudly, offering the waitress a twenty as she came back with their drinks. “Keep the change, darlin’!” He adds with a wink.

She flushes, making Jason frown.

Stray, of course, notices this and elbows Jason.

“Don’t get jealous, Blue Jay, it’s not becoming.”

Jason does not blush. He doesn’t, and that’s the hill he will die on.

“I’m not. On an unrelated note, pass me a shot.”

Jason is the master of changing the subject, Stray thinks sarcastically, passing him a shot and downing one of his own.

“Five bucks says alley cat blacks out,” Roy says smugly as Dick makes a face, the way he always did with heavier liquors. He glares at the redhead, who shrugs unapologetically.

Donna eyes them both speculatively, taking a sip of her own drink.

“Twenty says he gives a lap dance before he blacks out.”

Roy snorts.

“I’ll take it,” and to Dick, “Don’t do it, for me.”

Dick bats his eyes innocently.

“Lil’ old me? I would never do something so…” He trails a finger down Roy’s chest, making him swallow roughly. “Scandalous.”

Donna grins victoriously as Roy groans, trying and failing to hide his excitement.

“I hate you. I hate you both.”

Tagging whoever sees this, I suppose?

#dcu #dick grayson #my writing #stray!dick

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ellana-ravenwood · 7 years

Text

Each tattoo is a story - Batmom x Batfamily

Good idea. I wrote it in the very short free time I had available today, hope it’s still ok, and that you guys will like it :

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_________________________________________________

It’s Tim, who wondered about it first.

You guys were all coming home from a (rare and peaceful) day at the beach, when he noticed it. And curiosity got the best of him.

Of course, you’ve always had a lot of tattoos even before you became his mother. It was so normal for him, so part of...You, that he never even wondered once what they meant.

Until that day.

Until he noticed a small symbol on your ankle, surrounded by bigger designs that attracted all the attention. And it surprised him so much, that he just had to ask you. He resisted the urge to ask you right away, thinking it was none of his business but...it was too much now. He couldn’t stop himself. And as all the family is helping Alfred putting away their beach stuff, Tim cracks.

You noticed him staring at you for a while now, so you were expecting a somewhat personal question (which never bothered you, why would you have secrets for your own family ?). But nothing really prepared you for what he was about to ask :

-Mom...Why do you have Superman’s symbol tattooed on your ankle ?

Bruce freezes. Your other boys are suddenly very attentive, and Alfred...Oh bless Alfred, he couldn’t help but smile because he thought that the way Bruce tensed up each time the word “Superman” was uttered was just the cutest (they all knew by now, that you and Clark used to date).

Your husband turns toward you and, his brow furrowing, asks :

-...You have a Superman symbol tattooed on your ankle ? I never noticed...

-You should have had, you often kiss it when we...

-OH PLEASE MOTHER ! No details about anything regarding your intimacy with father please. Just tell us why you have a Superman tattoo...Please.

You chuckle a bit at your youngest son’s comment, but your gaze doesn’t leave Bruce’s, and you smile at him...it’s not a mocking smile, far from it, and he relaxes. You’re not going to tease him about Clark once again (ever since he discovered you had a thing with him, one of your favorite past time was to make comments about it, just to provoke a reaction in him...and oh a reaction it provoked each time alright...a very nice and pleasurable reaction you might say).

But you’re in no mood to tease him on the subject, especially since you had such a pleasant day and you just don’t want to ruin it by making him grumpy (even though he never stays grumpy very long once you manage to get some time just you and him). Besides, you can see it kinda disturbs him that he never noticed this particular tattoos...He thought he knew your body by heart ! And yes, he did kiss your ankles more than once so...why did he never notice it ? If you could read his mind you’d tell him that maybe, he was always a bit too busy to actually pay attention to that minuscule tattoo.

To be honest, you’re quite surprised Tim saw it...Bruce was right. That boy really was the most observant and smartest you’ve ever met. You were pretty sure that he even surpassed his father in that area and...the fact he noticed that tattoo while Bruce had your ankles right in his face more than once proves it (oh the number of time your ankles ended up on his shoulders, and he turned his face to kiss it as he pumped into you...well, come to think of it, maybe that’s why he never noticed indeed, you guys were always quite busy when your ankles were close to his face...).

You smile at your sons and you say :

-It’s just because Clark has been an important part of my life, and still is. He’s one of my best friend. Just friend dear, don’t make that face.

They can’t help it, they can’t help but snickering at their father’s reaction, this little “jealous face” he always make, where his nose and mouth crease.

But, what you just said about this tattoo makes Tim think and he asks :

-Do all your tattoos mean something ?

You give him an enigmatic smile and nod. And you just know they’re going to ask you what they all mean.

************

And that’s how you all end up in the main living room at the manor, with you in a sport bra and shorts, explaining what every piece of art means on your body.

The bat’s meaning on your collar bone is obvious. You don’t even have to talk about it. So are the four little bird following it.

The huge piece you have on your back, that seems abstract...actually isn’t. It’s the blueprints of your birth place, The Narrows, one of Gotham’s poorest and most dangerous neighborhood. You got it tattooed when you turned 18, it was your first tattoo, and you got it in honor of your parents who were murdered, and of your brothers who unfortunately hung out with the wrong people and got killed in a drug bust...You also got it tattooed to remember where you’re coming from. So that no matter where you’d go, you’d always know that the Narrows were printed into you. That it was just part of you.

Your arms were bare, when Bruce first met you, and Dick even remembers that he saw you with tattooed less arms too...And yes. Yes it makes sense because...Your arms are dedicated to your sons.

The little circus on your bicep is for Dick, when the official adoption papers were signed. Below the circus is written a date, the day Dick Grayson officially became your son, and next to the date are little symbols that do not seem to make any sense...That is until you explain that, when Dick arrived home, a lost little 8 years old boy, he was just so shy. And to communicate with him, you’d draw things. Like, yourself smiling and hugging him...and slowly but surely, he warmed up to you. Hugging you for real, calling you “mom”...but when you still communicated only through drawings, he drew things for you and...you got them tattooed on your skin.

Those symbols meant something, and just showed how bad at art Dick used to be. They was a heart that looked like an apple. A house or...maybe a gift ? There was a stick figure...dancing ? And the face of a character smiling.

Dick tried his hardest not to cry at the thought that you got tattooed on your skin those silly drawings he made for you...and the memories of how amazing you’ve always been to him were almost too much.

On your forearms, there was a tire less car and...oh that was about Jason for sure. It was an aston martin (one of Bruce’s favorite car...you couldn’t really get the bat mobile tattooed) and it missed all its tires. Below that, there was a silhouette of a boy wearing a hoodie, with a comic bubble that read : “Haha gotta run faster old man”. Bruce wasn’t amused (but deep down, he thought it was extremely cute).

The two tombstones on your other bicep didn’t need any explanation either...and the little arrows below them that pointed to a two bright star design didn’t either. Every thing was symbolizing Jason’s and Damian’s death, and the stars were them coming back to you.

You had a small coffee cup on your wrist. For Tim of course. Next to the coffee cup was written “X 9324″ and your family couldn’t help but laugh at your accurate portrayal of the number of coffee cups your son drunk. There was also a little computer, and a “sleep is for the weak”.

You had a lot of arabic things written on your arms too and Damian almost teared up when he realized they were things he told you that you loved...Things he told you that came straight from his heart.

You had each of them drawn as Robins. Dick being the biggest one, blue. Then Jason, red. Tim, yellow. And finally, Damian, green.

Above your elbow was a drawing of Damian and Tim drawn Chibi style, and they were fighting. Above was a very exasperated Dick, and a “FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT” Jason and they all burst out laughing when they realized that those little characters on your arm, it was indeed definitely them. How did they never notice ? They were just so used to your tattoos...

And oh there was so many tattoos on your arms related to them...A staff, Dick’s two stick, a gun in a “stop” sign, their symbols, their date of birth, their favorite food (Jason got excited to see you tattooed some chicken drumsticks on you, he thought it was hilarious) etc etc...your arms were a canvas in honor of your children, and oh how touched they were by all of that.

Your legs had massive pieces on them. One leg was...just wonderful. A sort of abstract depiction of your relationship with Bruce. From the day you met at a charity event you organized (one to give easier access to books to poor population in Gotham) which was represented by books flying off at the start of your thigh, to your wedding, represented by a lot of colors (your super friend’s costume colors) and two rings, to when you adopted your children (four colorful dots tattooed with the aquarelle technique...one blue, one red, one yellow and one green). Everything was there. Even the way you were so sickeningly in love with each other, there was definitely your silhouette and his kissing...Gross.

Bruce’s heart beat wildly as he realizes you had an entire leg tattooed just for him...That it symbolized your life with him...And he never even wondered what all those things meant !

On your other legs you your favorite places in Gotham drawn. One of the park. The rooftops. The docks. It was just a lot of wonderful pieces about your favorite city in the World (though not many understood why you loved that place so much), and there, lost in the middle of all of it, was that superman tattoo...You told them it was one of your first one. You didn’t really expect to have that many tattoos.

Alfred full on cried when he saw that you had a “butler” drawn on your ribs, but hey, why wouldn’t you ? Alfred was such an important part of your life...You also had other things on your collar bone that didn’t have the bats and the birds, related to Alfred : a few tea cups, and a “sassy, butler is sassy” that made everyone laugh. The other side of your ribs were still bear, so was your stomach and belly in general, and you told them that, once another important event would occur, you’d draw something there too.

All of your tattoos had meanings. All of them. And you had too many to explain everything to them but...Now they knew.

They already knew how important they were in your life, but now even more than ever. You had your skin permanently changed with reminders of them...

Many hugs were exchanged, many laughs too as some of your tattoos were just based on very funny memories (like for example, you had a “R.I.P Sledges” with a broken red sledge representing all the sledges you broke with your sons over the many winters you all had together), and almost tears too, as some memories were painful, or just made them have happy tears.

************

You spend the entire day talking about your tattoos. And finally, you told them about everything and...satisfied their curiosity.

After kissing your cheek lovingly, your sons’ follow Alfred in the kitchen for their snacks ritual of the day (tea and crumpets...for real) and you’re left alone with your Bruce.

He comes closer to you and asks :

- What about the one you have...you know...between your thigh, right before your...

-I know which one you’re talking about Bruce, and this one ? It’s just a meaningless cute one.

You can see he doesn’t believe you, and as he narrows his eyes at you you just smile and can’t resist to laugh.

-Meaningless cute one uh ?

You nod, but you damn well know he won’t let go off this. And you also know what his technique to make you talk is...When the first tickle wave hit you, you are able to hold your laugh in but...Oh it’s always impossible. He knows all your sweetest spot. He knows where to touch you to make you beg for him to stop tickling you.

-I won’t stop until you tell me what’s that tattoo means !

-Fine HAHAHAHAHAHHA I’LLHAHAHAHAHAHA I’ll tell you !

And it stops. But he’s ready to start again if you don’t actually comply...You look at him and you say :

-It’s about my first time.

-Your first time ?

-Oh please, you know what I mean. The placement is pretty obvious really.

-I just wanted to hear you say it and...Wait, why is it a manta ray ?

You slyly smile at him and manage to slip away from his grasp, and can’t help but laugh loudly and run away when you hear him say :

-Don’t tell me your first was Aquaman !?

Fin.

_____________

Hope you liked it. Wrote this during my pause at work, so like in 5 minutes so if it feels rushed I’m very sorry. Hope it’s still fine.

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bitchinbios-blog · 7 years

Text

“But if Bruce taught me anything, it’s that you have to have a game plan for everything, even for death.”

DATABASE HISTORY:

The world has a way of working in which a moment that seems entirely inconsequential can later be brought back in a much more significant setting. For Timothy Drake, this moment occurred when he was four years old and attending Haley’s Circus with his parents Jack and Janet Drake. Tim’s father asked if the circuses main attraction, the Flying Graysons, would take a photo with them and the acrobats agreed. The youngest Grayson, Dick, paid Tim special attention and promised that he would dedicated his performance to him. Afterwards Tim and his parents went to their seats and the Graysons started the show.

There was no way of anyone knowing that the high wire was going to snap, or that one day Richard Grayson would become Tim’s adopted brother. As soon as the John and Mary Grayson fell to their death, Tim’s parents rushed him out of the tent to spare their son from seeing the tragedy. They weren’t fast enough though, and Tim witnessed the Batman himself consoling the desolate Dick before he made it outside. The photo that was taken of the two families was later sent to Dick by the Drakes because they felt bad for him, and that was the last time that Tim thought about it for five years.

At the age of nine, Tim watched some footage of Batman and his partner Robin and made a huge revelation. The move Robin was doing was a quadruple somersault, and that was so rare that only a flying Grayson could do it. After a little research, Tim found that Dick Grayson had become the ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne. Connecting the dots that numerous adults had missed, Tim realized that Batman and Robin were none other than Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne. Choosing to keep this information to himself, Tim watched their exploits for years through Dick’s shift to Nightwing and the arrival of the second Robin, Jason Todd. When Jason abruptly died shortly after, Tim noted the change in the Batman and deduced that he actually needed a Robin for the sake of his sanity.

When Nightwing, aka an older Dick Grayson, traveled away from Gotham to work with the Teen Titans Tim decided to follow him. The two ended up solving a case in the place that they had originally met as innocent children, Haley’s Circus, and Tim made Dick realize that Bruce needed help. His former partner decided to help him as Nightwing, but Tim insisted that Bruce needed a Robin. Dick ignored Tim’s theory and went to help Bruce, only for them both to be taken by Two-Face.

At only thirteen years old, Tim went to Wayne Manor and spoke with Alfred Pennyworth who helped equip him in the Robin costume. With the proper gear, Tim was able to save both Dick and Bruce and made the plea to become the next Robin. Bruce was reluctant but relented and agreed that Tim could be Robin on a trial basis. The next several months consisted of Tim being trained by Alfred, Bruce and Dick before he was allowed to wear the costume again or go out into the field.

Before Tim was introduced as Robin however, a criminal by the name of the Obeah Man kidnapped Tim’s parents while they were on vacation in the Caribbean with plans to sacrifice them. Bruce managed to save the two and stop the Obeah Man, but not before Janet and Jack drank some water laced with poison. Janet died from the substance, and Jack was left in a coma with paralysis. Bruce began to doubt if Tim should be Robin as he now had a reason for vengeance, which had destroyed Jason, but Tim reiterated that he wanted to do what was right and not get revenge. After he saved Bruce and the reporter Vicki Vale from the Scarecrow, Bruce allowed Tim to officially become Robin and gave him his own costume.

The training didn’t stop there though. Even though Tim had what he wanted for so long, he then began to have doubts. Bruce reassured him that he had not only earned the role but had Bruce’s faith in him, because he wanted someone who not only had guts but was smart and Tim possessed both of those traits plus some. Before Batman would let Robin on the streets of Gotham he took him on a world tour overseas in order to help Tim figure out who he was in addition to improving on his fighting skills. During this time Tim crossed paths with Lady Shiva and King Snake, but when he refused to kill King Snake at Shiva’s command he proved himself to Bruce as ready and was brought back to Gotham to begin his tenure.

Tim soon proved himself to be a different Robin than Jason or Dick had been. He was more reserved than Dick had been, and since he wasn’t raised an acrobat, he had to work harder on his fighting and physical prowess. Even though Tim was a fine fighter, Bruce had a rule in place that if Tim was to ever encounter one of the rogues known for killing (ie the Joker or Two-Face), he was to not engage and call in backup. That rule was disobeyed during one of Tim’s first solo cases in Gotham, when Tim ended up getting stuck in a confrontation with the Joker himself. The Joker had killed Jason Todd and was initially confused as to why he was back and if he had actually murdered the boy, but realizing that Tim was a new Robin he vowed to kill him as well. Using his intellect and skill however, Tim was able to defeat the Joker and sent him back to Arkham where the criminal made it known that Tim was his to kill.

Shortly after this, Jack Drake awoke from his coma. Tim helped him secure a house next to Wayne Manor so he could continue being Robin, but things didn’t go smoothly. Before the coma Jack had often been preoccupied with work, but after he wanted to develop a closer relationship with his son. Jack would eventually grow resentful of how close Bruce and Tim were and would site Tim’s constant disappearances as his son trying to avoid spending time with him.

When the Cluemaster was released from jail as cured, clues still popped up around Gotham and Batman and Robin decided to handle the case. While attempting to stop Arthur Brown, Tim noticed a girl in purple fleeing the scene and followed her. Thinking that she was helping Cluemaster, Tim caught and unmasked her only to find a blonde teenager who was his own age. The girl, Stephanie Brown, went by Spoiler and was actually the daughter of Cluemaster who was trying to stop her father. Tim and Bruce allied with her to catch her father, and after that Tim made sure to work with her some more and the two became friends.

Tim’s father began seeing a therapist by the name of Dana, and the two were eventually wed. The couple had been together a while when Tim got a phone call that his father needed to speak to him immediately. There was an intruder in the Drake household and a note with a gun stating that Jack needed to protect himself. Jack told Tim over the phone that he was proud of him and whatever happened was not his fault. When Tim managed to get home he found both his father and Captain Boomerang dead, as he had used the gun at the same time the hired killer had attacked. Tim was devastated at the loss of both of his parents, and shortly after Donna had a mental breakdown and was placed in a mental hospital in Bludhaven. The hospital was later overrun with crime and Donna went missing and was presumed dead.

Bruce offered to officially adopt Tim, but Tim refused and hired an actor to pretend to be his Uncle Eddie. Bruce easily saw through it and wasn’t offended, but instead offered to help Tim make a better cover-up story. Eventually, Tim relented and let Bruce adopt him. He then continued to serve as Robin while testing the boundaries and developing a little more independence to the point where he was able to pass along the Robin mantle to Damian Wayne when he was dropped into Bruce’s life. It was surprising to find that Bruce had fathered a child with Talia al Ghul, but Tim saw it as the perfect chance to take up the alias of Red Robin and experiment a bit.

DATABASE CONNECTIONS:

BRUCE WAYNE has become like a father to Tim, even though he wasn’t an orphan and had a father. He had to beg Bruce to let him be Robin after what happened to Jason, and he’s been working hard to not let him down ever since. Bruce isn’t perfect, but Tim is determined to make him proud. He needs a Robin. Batman just works better that way, and Tim knows that he can be the Robin that he needs.

DAMIAN WAYNE took the Robin mantle from Tim when Bruce decided to work with him, but Tim got over that. He and Damian have fought a few times with their fists and tried to work together once although their dislike of each other and difference in fighting skills made that hard. Tim’s trying to like the kid though. He just makes it very, very hard to do that.

DICK GRAYSON is Tim’s big brother. This is speaking in adopted terms, of course, but that doesn’t matter to either of them. Dick is a little more lighthearted than Tim at times, but they both have their strengths as Robin. From the moment Tim took a picture with Dick before the final Flying Grayson performance, he’s been his hero. Now they’re family and Tim is glad to have him around.

JASON TODD was the Robin before Tim, but Tim never got to meet his predecessor because he was murdered by the Joker. Tim knows what happened to Jason, and it’s really sad. He didn’t want to replace him, just keep the legacy going. There’s been a new guy in town though, the Red Hood, and Tim has some creeping suspicions even though he hasn’t said anything yet.

STEPHANIE BROWN may be the daughter of a criminal, but she’s become a friend of Tim’s. Stephanie shamelessly flirts with him both in and out of costume, but so far Tim has been showing her how to be a real hero because he knows that she won’t give up the cowl. There’ll be time for flirting later once she has actual skills and not just good intentions.

DATABASE QUICKFACTS:

✖ TEAM AFFILIATION→ batfamily ✖ THREAT LEVEL → moderate ✖ HOME CITY → gotham ✖ FC NEGOTIABILITY → mild ✖ FC RECCOMENDATIONS → logan lerman, josh hutchinson

GIF HUNTS: [ X ] [ X ] [ X ]

TIMOTHY DRAKE is currently MIA.

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