#reports from the oracle

[the-forgotten-oracle]

[ This an EMERGENCY ANNOUNCEMENT from the ( REDACTED ) Hero Corporation. HERO #056 has sent out an emergency flare. Location has NOT been decoded. Stay on alert as we continue to investigate the situation.

HERO #XXX, you have been summoned at the request of ( REDACTED ) Hero Corporation as an emergency response team. ]

[ static is all that’s heard when the oracle had woken up. The hero went to sit up but stopped as pain shot through her body ]

“Fuck- okay.. what the fuck.? where-”

[ the hero looked around at her surroundings to find that she was just… in a dark alleyway? She caught sight of her comm and reached for it, ignoring the pain that went through her body ]

“Ic is missing.? when did- oh shit what day is it- fuck-”

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 119

Sam and Danny accidentally blow up social media. Except Danny just gets to laugh at the headlines.

Recluse Manson daughter and *insert Batkid name here* caught red handed

It was another fake out make out fiasco. Sam had agreed to go to a stupid gala. Only because vlad was going. Danny hated his eyes in front of his mom to make vlad take him along. He doesn’t trust the fruitloop.

Of course she and Danny were finding out why vlad had to come to this particular Galla in Gotham. It was some stupid overshadowing scheme. They put a stop to it and Danny phased them into the coat closet.

They didn’t think a reporter had managed to get into the gala. Let alone get a picture of them.

[orapex]

In this tutorial titled "Oracle Apex- Direct Printing Features" discover how to leverage the Direct Print capabilities in Oracle APEX to enhance your application’s efficiency. You can find a complete guidance from here- https://youtu.be/ah_79k9pZUY

[ghostbsuter]

"Vladimir Masters arrived, and by his side is a teen, adolescent guessing around 17. B, he doesn't look too happy to be here." Reports Tim as he stares subtly at the direction of the pair, walking around.

It didn't take a genius to see that the teen by Vladimir's side wasn't happy to be here.

"Got my eyes on them," Dick shares from across the room, where he'd grabbed a glass of champagne and mingled around. "Need some help, I'll try talk to the guy. O, know his name already?"

Tim plucked a small dessert from the table, giving a polite smile to the women passing him and frowning. Vladimir Masters wasn't an unusual guest they had, but whenever he did attend, it was alone. He was not married, Tim knew. So where did he get that guy from?

"Got him." Oracle's voice comes through the comm. "Daniel Fenton-Masters. Guess our friend over there got more family than we knew. That's his godson. There is... a lot. To say."

As she trails off, Dick makes his way slowly and steadily over, interest rising as he waves to an elderly man. "What is it?"

"Daniel hates Masters. Or so it seems." Oracle bluntly states, Dick nearly trips. "He was arrested once for keying Masters car, by Masters himself. Bailed him out after a few hours." She seemed more amused than alarmed, which was good.

Despite their talking through the comm, Tim nor Dick took notice of the youngest Wayne in the room stopping in front of the Masters.

"Eyes on Damian." Bruce speaks up for the first time, finally taking a break from the persona it seems.

Much to the short confusion turned alertness, Dick caught onto the youngest Wayne's plan. "He's engaging in a conversation all by himself! I'm so proud!"

With Damian and Daniel talking, Vladimir did not hesitate in leaving his wards side and talking with other guests. Dick still kept an eye on him, remaining close but outside of his path.

"O, tune us in on their conversation?"

With an affirmative hum, the channel switches and their voices become loud and clear.

"How is Delilah? From the letters I received, she seemed to be well."

"Oh, yeah! She's doing great! Don't tell anyone, Damian, but the zoo believes her to be pregnant."

"Pregnancy? Give her my blessings if it is true."

Was that pride in his tone? Dick would weep if he were alone.

The idle conversation switches topics from the apparently endangered monkey species(? Of course Damian would know. He seemed to have been in contact with Daniel previously.)

"Vladimir!" Brucies voice cuts in, startling Damian for a second and having the other birds in the gala swirl their heads toward their father.

As Dick keeps an eye on Bruce and Vladimir, Tim studied the other teen. During Damians startle, invisible to the trained eye, he had looked back with a flick to see. Despite how fast or practised the move was, Daniel followed along seamlessly.

Almost like a Bird.

The talk between the two ended shortly after the one from the adults started, Daniel was on the move after a quick excuse, grabbing a glass of champagne on his path directly towards his guardian.

And yet. The message he'd given Damian to escape repeated itself in his mind.

"Sorry, Damian, I need to save your father, one second. I'll be back soon."

Save Bruce from Vladimir? Why?

One second, he'd just watched Daniel pass him. The next, the boy was apologising repeatedly, over and over again. The glass of champagne empty on the floor, broken and the liquid inside all over Vladimir Masters.

"Masters is angry. Send someone to clean up the mess, please." To that, man in uniform arrived with a broom in his hand and cleaning up the shards of glass in seconds.

"That was clearly intentional. Daniel made sure Masters didn't get to talk with B past formalities. The picture I'm getting keeps getting uglier here, guys."

"Got it, thanks O. I'm joining in now."

...at least no rogue had yet to crash the gala? Tim hopes he didn't just Jinx them all.

[thelotusrabbit]

DpxDc #10

A bit chilly out, isn't it?

kind of gory? Not in a violent way.

Danny felt cold.

Not his core cold, or winter cold, more like a “walking around without clothes cold”.

Skulker was right, at the end.

He got his pelt, and now…

Well, Danny was walking around without skin. Hence, the cold.

He wasn’t really worried, it would grow back like his missing organs did when the GIW emptied him out.

Long story short, Skulker was a bitch, he should probably find a way to stop dripping with blood (and possibly a coat) and try to figure out where he ended up after taking the wrong portal while escaping.

He was doing well at this point, he thought. The city he was in was gloomy and humid, which was nice since he was starting to dry out pretty fast.

————————————————————————

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck-“

Jason stared at the walking flayed guy who was taking a nice stroll around the block.

Every step he took left a matching bloody print, and he could see every single fiber of the muscles tense and relax.

The more he stared at it, the more he hated it.

He immediately reached for the coms.

“I fucking hate it, what the fuck-“

He heard the others connecting.

“Hood, everything alright?”

“Fuck no, oh my god, I’m not gonna be able to sleep anymore, that’s the most fucked up shit I ever saw my entire life, what the fuck”

“Hood, report. What’s going on?” 

“OH MY GOD!” Everybody heard Oracle almost shout from the coms “That’s ugh- I’m gonna throw up, that- ugh-”

“Right?!”

“Hood! Report right now!”

“It’s like-It’s like this guy, walking around without skin and-“

Hood looked down at it. It was looking back.

“You know I can hear you, right?”

[velvet-milk]

──── everybody knows that i'm a good boy, officer...

❤︎──── pairing: dick grayson x officer!reader.

❤︎──── summary: ❛❛as the newest cop on blüdhaven’s force, you hated masked freaks. nightwing, the masked freak himself, wants nothing more than your delicious, sweet approval. and maybe your naked body.❞

WARNINGS. dick wants your pussy so much he looks fucking stupid. 18+, jerking off. authority kink on his part. he loves a hot woman in uniform. hints of sub nightwing. female reader. officer reader. ©velvet-milk.

❤︎──── The first time he saw you, he had just taken down two armed robbers outside a liquor store — easy work, nothing fancy. A normal friday night for him. Dick was still catching his breath, escrima sticks holstered, the night wind tugging at his suit as he turned toward the flashing lights of the approaching squad car.

He muttered something to Oracle about the cops in the area and cut his comms. The flashing lights bathed the street in red and blue, casting just enough glow to catch the look you gave him — bored, patronizing, and vaguely amused. But the moment the window rolled down, he got hit with your full pretty face. And rude tone.

"Sweetheart, I know times are hard and stuff, but soliciting’s still a crime in this part of town."

Nice.

Your partner let out a strangled noise beside you. She leaned toward you like she could physically stop the words from coming out of your mouth, but it was far, far too late. You didn’t flinch. Just blew a bubble with your gum and popped it. Dick glanced down at himself — the skintight suit, the very iconic symbol across his chest — then looked back up at you.

"I literally just stopped a robbery."

You shrugged, unimpressed. "Cool. And I just filed a report. We all have hobbies."

To his credit, Dick didn’t get mad. Just gave you this slow, stunned little laugh, like he wasn’t sure if he was offended or intrigued.

"Wow. And here I thought I had a decent relationship with the BHPD after all these years."

You smiled sweetly, razor-sharp. "Oh, don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against sex workers."

Your partner in the passenger seat looked like she wanted to crawl into the glove compartment. She pressed a hand to her face and whispered, horrified, "Oh my God… that’s Nightwing."

You didn’t even flinch.

"Night-who?" you said, glancing at her like she’d just made up a word. "Why would I know his stage name?"

She turned to you, pale. "He’s, like… famous. National superhero famous."

Yeah, he fucking was. Thank you very much.

He took one last look at you — still lounging behind the wheel, smirking like you hadn’t just verbally curb-stomped a national hero. The other cop couldn’t even meet his eyes. Poor woman looked like she wanted to dissolve into her seat from secondhand embarrassment.

"Have a good night, officer," he said, voice clipped but smooth.

Then he turned on his heel, tapped his comms. "Oracle, remind me to review Blüdhaven precinct relations tomorrow," he muttered, raising his escrima stick and firing the grapple line. "Preferably before I set myself on fire again."

The line snapped taut, and he vanished into the night sky.

❤︎──── Of course he kept tabs on you after that night. You called him a hooker, straight to his face, and somehow looked obscenely hot while doing it. What was he supposed to do after that? Move on?

He was a simple man. A simple man with a morally flexible sense of privacy and way too much access to high-end surveillance tech. At the moment, he had four tabs open on the BHPD’s internal database. When Babs and Tim asked, he muttered something about "tracking a person of interest in the department."

Which, technically, wasn’t a lie. You were very interesting. You had a sharp mouth, a mean stare, perfect lips, and the kind of tits that made even the Nightwing suit feel a little tight.

"Yeah," he mumbled to himself, eyes fixed on your ID photo. "That’s the suspect. Definitely her."

He kept digging. It wasn’t enough to memorize your patrol schedule and ID badge, no, he had to go deeper. He found your Police Academy files. Graduated top of your class. Commendations in firearms, tactical response, and, of course, disciplinary reports for "insubordination" and "excessive sarcasm."

Then came your field test footage. Blurry body cam recordings. One of you talking down a suspect at gunpoint with zero backup. Another of you pinning a guy twice your size to the hood of a cruiser.

Very sexy of you, officer.

So he kept in close contact with the BHPD — closer than he needed to, if anyone was being honest about it. It had been years since Dick hung up the badge. But as Nightwing, he still had full access to department files, incident reports, internal memos, almost everything. All the tools of his former life, right at his fingertips.

And lately? He’d been using them for one very specific reason. You.

Every report you wrote, every arrest logged under your badge number, every disciplinary note with your name at the top, he read them all. More than once. It wasn’t intel gathering anymore. It was something else.

Something worse.

And you looked at him like he was a freak, every single time he showed up at a crime scene near your precinct. Last time, there was a body on the floor, half a dozen uniforms already securing the perimeter, and you crouched low, gloves on, examining blood spatter like it was just another tuesday. He tried to offer something helpful, something sharp, something detective-y.

You didn’t even look up.

"Sure thing, doll," you said, tone dry as bone. "Let me know if you wanna borrow a flashlight."

Then you stood, brushed past him, and kept working. He was still standing there ten seconds after you walked away, jaw tight, pride stinging, wondering what the hell was wrong with him that that turned him on. The dismissal. The uniform. The way your hips moved when you walked.

Jesus, he hadn’t been that hard in months.

Later that night he found himself alone in his apartment, right after patrol, hand wrapped tight around his cock, jerking off with embarrassing urgency to the mental image of your thighs straining against those uniform pants. He moaned softly, his thumb touching his leaking tip.

Dick could almost see it when he closed his eyes with a tiny whimper.

You, officer, climbing into his lap in the backseat of your cruiser, straddling him like you owned him. Belt undone, holster still strapped to your thigh. His hands cuffed behind him, helpless to do anything but take it.

You’d ride him so fucking hard, your pretty little pussy gripping him tight, warm and soaked around his cock. One hand tangled in his black hair, yanking when he got too mouthy, the other braced against the fogged-up glass of the squad car window as your hips slammed down, again and again, using him like he was yours.

He’d choke on a groan, eyes rolling back, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, because you wouldn’t let him finish until you were done. Until you were shaking on top of him, breathless and spent, nails dragging down his chest.

He came faster than he wanted to. Pathetic, really. He groaned your name like a fucking prayer, teeth sunk into his own wrist to keep quiet, while hot, messy cum spilled over his fist, his stomach, his shirt — hips jerking up off the mattress, desperate for more.

Desperate for you.

He looked up at the ceiling with a sigh, hands still sticky with his own cum like some desperate, horny teenager who’d never even touched a woman.

What the hell had you done to him, officer?

[the-forgotten-oracle]

[ access granted, hero #XXX loaded ]

.

.

.

Birth name: Haley.

Alias: Oracle.

Sex: xxxxx

Gender identity: Demi-girl | she/they.

Known powers: xxx

Status: unknown. Presumed to be dead.

Extra: Oracle was last seen on June 25th 2XXX on a patrol downtown, heroes have not heard word from her since that day and have assumed her to be dead.

[ the rest of this file cannot be loaded at this time. Please try again or contact the hero agency for more information. ]

[starry-songs-canvas]

Of Course Not(tm)

Kind of continued from this post I made a bit ago.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The bats are on a manhunt looking for whoever took their youngest. (Damian would not just enter an unmarked vehicle)

Nightwing, Red hood, Signal, Batgirl and Orphan all taking the streets while Batman, Red Robin and Oracle all look over the last known footage of Damian, walking stiffly with glowing red eyes. (Obvious mind-control, but why couldn’t he break out of it?)

“Uh, Batman?”

Suddenly, they get a FaceTime call invite on the Bat computer. (Batman has Bat-call, not FaceTime?!?)

“Answer, I’ll trace it.” Oracle says tersely. Red Robin hesitantly pushes the accept button.

“Ancients, you sure took your sweet time with that.” A blue-eyed clone of Damian snarks out the minute they enter the call.

“Where is Damian?” Batman growls out.

“He’s… fine. Well, fine as he can be at the moment.” The clone says, then mutters something under his breath.

“Anyways, could you come and get him? I’d drop him off, but I’m kind of busy at the moment.” He says as he’s furiously typing away at the computer.

“The signals heavily encrypted, I can’t get a read past somewhere in Illinois.” Oracle reports.

“What is the League planning.” Batman demands.

That makes the clone pause. “The League isn’t involved.”

“Then who else cloned him?” Red Robin asks.

The clone now stops what he’s doing and frowns at the camera. “Clone? No, I’m his brother.” Not seeing the reaction he wanted. “Danny? His twin? Other half of the demon twins?”

Watching their growing confused reactions he puts his head in his hands and groans.

“He didn’t mention me at all, did he? Of course not.”

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some Guy Bingo

Masterpost.

Nearly three months into (what Jason called) The Haunting, the siblings kinda started a game. (“Either we're haunting him or he's haunting us, I haven't decided yet." "Considering he's the one appearing randomly, I'd say he's haunting us.")

Technically Tim had started it with, “five bucks says Danny went to class today.” (Gotham university was having an out break of fear toxin curtesy of Dr. Crane.) However, it was Jason who kicked it off with, “ten if he says something about actual scarecrows.”

Dick had snorted and said, “fifteen if it’s a personal experience about a farm.”

“I call bingo if he makes a vague statement on agriculture.” So it was actually Steph who started it.

“Bingo? We were placing bets.”

“Unlike you Hood, some people don’t get adopted by money.”

“As if Bruce doesn’t give you an allowance.”

(“As if he didn’t offer to adopt you,” Tim tacked on.)

It became a running joke where they started calling out "bingo if -" whenever they had to go out on a call. The joke had later formed into a running game when Danny had told Cass, “fighting gods is a pass-time, it is humanity that the real fight is against.” (He had trip over a curb and laid on the ground for several minutes before she asked if he was okay.) She said it wasn’t the most concerning thing he said to her and Steph chimed in claiming, “on a scale of one to ten that statement rates at a three.”

Jason had asked why Cass and Steph always got the weird ambiguous statements and he got cryptic shit about his “soul”.

(Damian had pointed out that at least he wasn’t being constantly referred to as a baby.)

I Call Bingo, which they still played whenever a situation required more than one of them, became “on a scale”

Dick was sure that “having given up on optimism, I find your enthusiasm to be overly bright” should be ranked higher then “I don’t like two-stepping but I’m from the mid-west, so do you know how to line dance?” (Danny and Duke had gotten into an awkward side step where they kept blocking each other.) Damian said the wording seemed passive-aggressive but the tone was too positive to be rude so he gave it a three. Jason said it sounded like a bad pick up line and gave it a two.

They often debated and defended the score they gave with Barbara chiming in over coms. She had never met Danny as Oracle but he was a regular at the public library. He was always polite and respectful and had quickly become one of her favorite patrons. Like Steph and Cass she also got odd statements but hers felt more like half-hearted jokes.

Bruce didn't always join in on their game but it wasn't surprising to see the occasional score placed in their reports. (They had a file dedicated to Danny's remarks. Originally it was to keep track of what they knew about him but at this point it was just to let the others know what he said this time.) Alfred was roped into it even if he didn't really participate unless asked. ("Hey Alfie, what would you give 'i'm glad i don't have to fight my food to eat it but if Batburger keeps giving me the wrong thing I'm summoning Lunch Lady.' Cause Tim says two but I think it's a five.") (He gave it a four.)

Post 4

[chaoticwriting]

Old Friend 2

Part 1

In the car

Vlad: So, young Daniel. I'm not really trying to pry but may I know how you know young Cassandra?

Danny: *Grunts* We met a long time ago. Way before I became Phantom. I was kidnapped when I was young by a group of cultists.

Vlad: What!? I never knew any of this.

Danny: Of course you don't. My family never dares to bring up the topic since they are afraid it will trigger my trauma or something.

Vlad:.......

Danny: And for the longest time, they are not wrong. Imagine, you are 5 years old, waiting for your parents who go out to hunt some ghosts when suddenly a group of men in fully black clothing cover your face with black clothing and knock you up. Next thing you know, you are standing in the middle of a group of children. Scared just as much as you while being surrounded by a group of assassins.

Danny releases a sigh as he remembers his past.

Danny: It is not easy to survive. They train you like you are a robot. If you don't complete your task, they will either punish you or ignore any of your needs. Sometimes both. For them, kids who fail to complete tasks are as worthless as a grain of sand.

Danny: I stayed there for a full 4 years. Training, fighting and killing. I do whatever it takes to survive. Just to see mom, dad and Jazz again. It was there I met her. She's just like me although her circumstances are different.

Danny: A kid who is raised unwillingly as an assassin. We used to escape our observes eyes and meet up in a forest. For the longest time, it was like that. Sometimes we talk about escaping. But most of the time we just talk, or show each other things that we found interesting while we were out on a mission.

Heavy silence falls in the car as Danny stops talking.

Danny: However, things changed one night. I waited and waited in the forest. But she never came. When I returned back to the base, I heard a commotion. "The Perfect Weapon has escaped". I don't know what to feel then. It felt like I was betrayed and yet I felt relieved and happy to know that she was no longer there.

As Danny stops speaking, they arrive at the hotel Vlad booked. Vlad is not good at comforting people but he knows from Jazz that sometimes giving people time alone is a good way to comfort them.

They eat dinner from the room service and decide to go to bed early tonight. As Danny lays on his bed, visions of the past return to him. The bitter and the sweet. Looking at the clock that is past midnight, Danny gets out of bed and takes out a long coat. If he can't sleep, might as well get rid of this excess energy.

---Wayne Manor---

Bruce silently nods as he hears his daughter's story. Honestly, it frustrates him that such a thing could happen and yet he cannot do anything about it. Sometimes, he wonders if he should really just kill all his rogues.

No. He shouldn't think like that. Returning his focus to his daughter, Bruce calmly rubs her head.

Bruce: It's fine. I'm sure you could talk it out with him. From what I see, he is not fully hostile to you. I'm sure he would understand if you explain it to him.

Cass: Hmmm.

Bruce: Do you still want to go on patrol tonight? I think Tim is free to fill in your spot if you don't feel like it.

Cass: No. I'm okay and will be. Just need to process my thoughts.

Bruce: Alright sweetheart.

Suddenly, his phone starts ringing.

Oracle: Hey, Bruce.

Bruce: Yeah?

Oracle: You might want to check in soon. There have been reported shootings at a factory near Scarecrow's territory.

Bruce: Alright. Inform the others to get ready.

As the call is cut off, Cass quickly goes down to the Batcave. She will think about how to contact Danny later. First, there is a shooting to quell.

Part 3

[lili-home-to-embraces-and-hugs]

“ROBINS AFTER DARK – EPISODE 9: RANKING GOTHAM VIGILANTES BY SNACK CHOICE”

(feat. Signal, Red Hood, Spoiler & a total disregard for podcasting ethics)

[Intro music: static, then someone aggressively beatboxing the Batman theme]

Spoiler:

“Welcome back to Robins After Dark, Gotham’s worst podcast. Broadcasting live from the Cave. Stolen mic. Zero rules.”

Red Hood:

“Today’s topic: What you eat after 2 a.m. says more about your trauma than therapy ever will.”

Spoiler:

“Tonight’s guest: The Daylight, the Drama, the only one here with a consistent skincare routine—Signal!”

[Signal enters with tactical shades and a Capri Sun.]

Signal:

“You dragged me out of bed for this.”

Red Hood:

“Correct. Suffer.”

RANKINGS START NOW:

Nightwing – Trail mix.

Spoiler:

“He eats it mid-flip. Thinks it’s healthy. It’s 80% chocolate.”

Red Hood:

“He’s pretending to be functional. He’s not. There are atleast three broken bones and a smile.”

Signal:

“He offered me dried cranberries and a warning once.”

Red Robin – Cold pizza and black coffee.

Spoiler:

“His diet is literally ‘emergency at all times.’”

Red Hood:

“Do you know how many times I’ve seen him eat crust and mutter, ‘justice never sleeps’? He sleeps never.”

Signal:

“He tried to replace my electrolytes with Monster Energy. I fought him.”

Robin – Plain almonds and wrath.

Spoiler:

“Once saw him eat a raw bell pepper on a stakeout like a cartoon villain.”

Red Hood:

“Called my Pop-Tarts ‘commoner food.’”

Signal:

“He judges snacks like they insulted his honor.”

Batman – Black coffee and empty silence.

Red Hood:

“Man once turned down a sandwich because it had ‘too much personality.’”

Spoiler:

“He looked at a granola bar like it was emotionally vulnerable.”

Signal:

“I gave him nightwings trail mix. He handed me a mission report.”

Oracle – Goldfish crackers and side-eyes.

Spoiler:

“Eats them while hacking the NSA and roasting your grammar.”

Red Hood:

“She doesn’t snack. She tactically nibbles.”

Signal:

“She carries them in a utility pouch. Respect.”

Orphan – Dried mango and quiet power.

Spoiler:

“She offered me one, mid-fight, and then suplexed a guy. I cried.”

Red Hood:

“She is nourishment incarnate.”

Signal:

“I once watched her eat a mango and walk through fire. Unbothered. Untouchable.”

Signal – Apple slices and hot chips.

Spoiler:

“Chaos and vitamins. You contain multitudes.”

Red Hood:

“You bring Takis into the Cave and still lecture us about hydration.”

Signal:

“Its because I’m almost always correct and im luminous.”

Red Hood – Beef jerky and vengeance.

Signal:

“You don’t eat. You conquer that shit”

Spoiler:

“You once dipped Slim Jims in espresso. That’s not okay.”

Red Hood:

“Pain builds character. And strong jawlines. Id know. Trust me.”

Spoiler – Pocky and emotional damage.

Red Hood:

“She eats twelve in a row then kicks a war criminal in the neck.”

Signal:

“You’re basically fueled by purple rage and sugar.”

Spoiler:

“I am the serotonin Gotham doesn’t deserve but needs so desperately.”

[Sudden crashing noise.]

Red Hood:

“Was that Red Robin?”

Signal:

“He just fell into the Zeta Tube again.”

Spoiler:

“Throw a granola bar down there. He’ll stabilize. Probably ”

And that's it for today with the Robins after Dark and our human daylight Signal

[Outro music: an aggressively bad kazoo solo. Maybe intentional.]

[demonic0angel]

Regarding your Dan in Arkham AU. I was wondering how did the Bat family react to Joker anonymously being murdered in jail? Did they discover it was Wraith?

Prev part

“Guys,” Barbara’s voice came through the speaker in an urgent tone. “There’s news from Arkham Asylum.”

Everyone turned around like meerkats spotting danger. Immediately, Bruce demanded, “What happened?”

“It’s… well, it’s not bad, kind of, technically, maybe.” The last part was rambled and everyone shared looks, bewildered at Barbara’s uncharacteristic flustered state.

“O?” Dick asked. “What happened?”

“… the Joker is dead.”

Silence.

And then cheers from most of the occupants within the room.

“Hell yeah!” Jason cheered. “It’s party time! Is the general public aware? It’s like New Years, Christmas, and my birthday all in one! O, invite everyone over, we’re having a celebration!”

Damian clapped enthusiastically while Stephanie hugged Cass, hopping up and down and chanting, “Yes! Yes! Woohoo! Ding Dong, the Joker’s gone!” Even Tim was grinning, while Dick was shaking his head, hiding his smile.

Only Bruce frowned. “Are you sure? Who killed him?”

Barbara coughed, fighting her own grin before she sobered quickly and reported, “No one’s sure, but he’s definitely dead. He was killed out of nowhere and there are currently no suspects. However…” everyone quieted, eyes wide as Barbara hesitated. “I do have my suspicions.”

Bruce grimaced heavily. “Who?”

Jason scowled at him, but before he could speak, Barbara brought up video feed of the hallways leading up to the Joker’s isolated cell. There were three figures sneaking around as they approached it. Two of the figures were very recognizable, blonde pigtails and red hair. However, there was one person most of the Bats did not recognize.

Dick froze stiffly, eyes wide.

“There was a video of the hallway to the Joker’s cells of Ivy, Harley, and another inmate approaching Joker’s cell a few minutes before he died. However, after that, I have no more video evidence, even inside of the cell. It’s all frizzed out.” She tried to demonstrate and only showed off videos of green, glitchy static.

Bruce grimaced. “Who is that? The other inmate?”

“A recent arrival. He was brought in a day ago and was declared a meta, although no one is aware of what his powers are, except perhaps something about fire. He’s been cooperative and peaceful so far. Apparently, he calls himself Wraith and he was caught in Blüdhaven but brought to Arkham Asylum due to his meta status.”

There was a pause as they all registered the news. Dick was inwardly sweating buckets but made sure to keep his posture very innocent, in case Cass was staring at him.

Then Barbara said, “Oh.”

“More news, Oracle?”

“… yeah. He as well as the other Sirens just broke out of Arkham.”

More silence.

Then—

“WHAT?!”

[electricgg]

Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter 4: Don’t You Find It Strange? The Only Thing We Share Is One Last Name

Masterlist

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 (Here!) / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 /

Water is meant to be clean. Its main purpose is to sustain the human body, which cannot survive without it. People have also given water many meanings and symbols throughout the centuries.

Purification. Life. Transformation. Change. Fluidity. Nurishment.

Water is meant to be something that heals.

Which is why Jason Todd felt unsettled by the dark brown pool in front of him.

Oracle had sent him the coordinates she managed to find from the police report Chief Gordon had given her later that night. He had found her near Grant Park, walking out of an empty alley and without a phone or a schoolbag. Confused, out of it, uniform drenched and ruined, and wound on the head.

He kicked a crushed soda can out of his way, landing in the murky water and making ripples on the surface. 

The nauseating feeling of disgust clawed at his stomach the more he looked at the pool.

It brought back memories. Memories he would rather keep buried.

‘She crawled out,’ he analyzed, flashlight pointed at the dried footsteps, wandering from the huge water print and towards the hole in the wired fence.

The flashlight was moved around, viewed on the ground, and over the bushes.

A sparkly glint that clashed with the light between the unkept leaves caught his attention. Crouching in front of the bushes, he reached out. Grabbing and pulling out the item so he could see it up close.

A purple, drenched schoolbag with silver charms hanging from its zipper. By how heavy it was, Jason figured out that the books and contents inside it were drenched as well.

“The bag fell into the pool as well.” he stood up, bag in hand, and looked back at the pool.

“But she didn’t fall with it. It was thrown after.” 

His boots crunched over broken glass, making him look down. There were two head bottles laid near the mess. They were probably thrown or fell by accident. It was recent, too, by how clean the glass looked. 

“Somebody came back…” he muttered to himself, moving what was left of the bottles with the front of his boot.

He lifted the bag, noticing how it still dripped heavily with water. It was too wet to have been taken out around the time of the event.

The bag had been taken out later. Way later. Probably a few minutes before he reached the place, if his instincts were to be trusted. It made his blood spike up underneath his veins, a heavy grunt pushed out of his modulator.

Someone had waited hours to get rid of the evidence.

Someone tried to get rid of her.

Someone tried to kill-

A distant voice interrupted his dark musings. Then, the sounds of shoes slipping and footsteps running off.

Jason didn’t hesitate to drop the bag and take out his gun, sprinting and jumping over the fence. Taking off towards whoever was trying to escape from him. Pulse palpitating, a dark feeling invading his chest as the thoughts of what he was going to do once he caught the bastard that dared to even look at her way.

It didn’t take long for gunshots, a body slamming against a metal dumpster, accompanied by grunts of pain, to be heard on a dark, blocked alley.

The person, a boy not older than eighteen, tried to crawl back as he yelled and cried from the pain in his leg. His jeans were turning dark from the blood and other fluids as the tall, imposing figure of Red Hood walked calmly towards him.

“Ple-please,” the boy whimpered out, body trembling, and a high-pitched noise escaping from his mouth once the vigilante crouched right by his side.

“It was just a prank! We swear!” he tried to cover his face, but Red shoved the gun in his face, making him stop.

“We? So there’s more of you?”

The boy went pale. Lips shaking. His head moved from different sides as if he couldn’t say yes or no to the questions of the masked man.

The gun was then shoved in his mouth, making him choke out a scream.

“Better start talkin’, boy.”

“Because you just made my night a fuckin’ hell.”

• • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

From the moment she woke up that morning, she should have known fate had it out for her. 

And given that it was also her first day in a new family, she should have been prepared for the absolute madness that went down that morning.

She knows someone down in hell had it out for her and was laughing their ass off.

Let’s divide the events so it can be easier to understand.

✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼

Falling back to sleep turned out to be a chore.

She was exhausted; that was given. And the soup and tea had been more than enough to put her in a very sleepy state. And she was knocked out the moment her head hit the pillow!

But, for some bullshit reasoning, her body decided that five hours of sleep was enough for her to regain her strenght after the whole thing that happened.

And to top it all, she felt alright. Even energized, to her shock! 

Her skin was strumming with adrenaline underneath, making her walk around the bedroom in circles to burn off some of the restlessness inside her body. It felt like a need, even. Just to do something with her legs.

Walk. Jump around. Bounce them while sitting down. Even try to jog in the same spot.

She tried to run around, but the limited space and almost knocking down the bookshelf put a quick stop to that. It was becoming annoying to the point that even her fingers drummed against the hardwood floor as she lay all sprawled out while staring at the ceiling. Soaking in the coldness so the uncomfortable sensation would calm down.

And why lie on the floor instead of walking around the halls where there was more space, or exploring her bedroom more thoroughly? Simple answer. 

Number 1: Because ain’t no way she's walking in the dark in a very obvious haunted house. She ain’t that dumb.

And number 2: It didn’t feel right to search someone’s belongings without permission. Even when that someone was no longer among the living.

Inhaling deeply, her gaze moved towards the stained glass window. Its colors painted across the room as the rising sunlight shone through the glass. Small particles of dust, changing between the colors as they floated around the air.

‘For such a lively room, it feels so lonely here…’

Her mind mused, a sudden sense of calm coming over her, and taking off some of the intensity of the restless feeling. She could feel like breathing again, eyes sliding closed slowly. 

The sensation of hands caressing her hair made her slip under more quickly.

Sweet sleep, finally…

Then her stomach decided to growl as if a freaking bear was inside of it.

2. Walking on dark halls should count as a sport.

Remembering her way to the kitchen wasn’t hard. Alfred had given her different clues on how to tell apart the halls, but he told her that he would fetch her the next morning for breakfast, and he would continue to do so until her head healed.

‘Well, too bad, Alfred. My stomach ain’t waiting any longer.’

Her thoughts complained, eyes bouncing from portrait to portrait. Arms wrapped around herself to keep the cold out. Because somehow, even while still wearing the thick sweats from the police station (they were comfy and she wasn’t touching the wardrobe unless she got some divine permission), the manor still managed to chill her to the bone.

Going back to the warm room was very tempting. Truly. But her stomach was almost eating itself in hunger. It was almost painful.

Why was she so hungry? She ate a few hours ago, and it feels like ages to her stomach.

Grumbling under her breath as she took a turn to the left, her body froze on the spot once her stare landed on the end of the hallway. Her heart almost going between coming to a stop or dropping to her feet.

There, in the hall, a tall, hunched figure walked slowly with a thick cloth over them. They were holding something between their hands, close to their chest. Pale hands standing out amongst the dark hallway.

She took a slow step back, wincing too loudly when the floor creaked under her weight.

Their head snapped toward the noise. Cornflower blue eyes with heavy, dark bags underneath and a very exhausted stare.

They stared at each other, neither moving nor even breathing. Until a male, confused voice came from the cloaked figure.

“You are not supposed to be up yet.”

His words snapped her out of the sudden scare, cold sweat going down her neck as she let out a heavy sigh. The cold hand of last night gripped her shoulder as she calmed down her heart palpitations.

Empty words. Ignored questions. Double-handed comments. Sarcastic answers. So much doubt. Condescending tones. Feeling dumb and stupid, and it hurts so much. You must have thought so hard about that. And why would I care? God, leave the thinking to someone else. Are you even trying? Surely you aren’t that stupid? I don't have time for that. Maybe if you used your head every once in a while, you wouldn’t be such a pain for us. Stupid. Dumb. Slow. Stop taLKING-

Cold lips whispered in her ear.

“Timothy. Know-it-all. Cold. Sarcastic. Condescending. And a coffee addict.”

Don’t let down your gaze

The cold hand slipped off slowly from the shirt, and then she was back in the hall with the freaking guy that almost gave her a heart attack on the spot.

Something akin to anger invaded her body. Sinking right through her back.

She straightened up and just stomped down the hallway, shaking her head as she muttered angrily under her breath. Her hands curled into fists on her sides. Her stomach growled in agreement for the first time since she stepped out.

“Not supposed to be up. Looking in the fucking mirror for once and then you can talk,” she said between her teeth as she passed right by him and taking two stairs at a time and disappearing by taking the hall to the left.

Anger, hunger, and fear ran through her blood. Anger from somebody else. Hunger that was becoming starvation. And fear, well, she was angry from getting scared like that by a dude with eyebags for his eyebags.

‘Fuck this house. Can’t normal people live under this roof?!’

Meanwhile, Drake just stood there. Eyes wide and mouth forming words, but no sound coming out. He was pretty sure he was having a hallucination from his lack of sleep.

“...since when does she move so fast?”

3. And then, the kitchen, her only salvation. Now turned into a gathering point.

Not only did she not find Alfred in the kitchen, but the little gremlin was having breakfast already at the dinner table.

He was wearing a school uniform, very similar to her own. Or what she thought her uniform used to look like. His schoolbag sat on the chair next to him, all pristine and expensive-looking. His plate was almost empty, just some scrambled eggs and untouched bacon strips that were snatched up by the smiling man sitting in front of him as they talked.

A man who left a sinking feeling on her suddenly quiet stomach.

The man had black hair and sparkling blue eyes, bright with joy and fondness as he listened to Damian complain about something she couldn’t bother to tune in as her ears started to ring. He wore a thick black jacket, a bluish grey shirt, and jeans. 

Before she took another step as quietly as possible (because she had convinced herself that if she moved as quietly and as fast as possible, she wouldn’t have to even interact with another random guy so early in the morning.), a youthful voice that felt like nails on a chalkboard to her called for her attention.

“Hey! You’re awake early!” The cheery tone made goosebumps break out on her skin, making her hiss under her breath.

Turning her head towards the man, she took notice of how he was already standing up and walking towards her. An easy smile on his face.

It irked her, for some reason. That smile.

“Here I thought you were sleeping in until late in the afternoon after what happened yesterday.”

With every step and word that came out of him, the more her shoulders moved up as an upsetting feeling churned inside of her.

Why is he smiling so much? And this early, too? It’s unsettling

Then, he put his hand on her shoulder. It felt so wrong and odd. And when her gaze found his, the only emotions she could find on his stare were pity and something similar to concern. But mainly pity. It made her feel cold and heavy.

“Did you rest? You need to-”

Sorry excuses. Soft avoidance. Pitiful glances. Forgotten recitals. Empty promises. So many empty chairs in recitals. Photos of her alone. Unanswered calls. Unseen messages. I can’t today, I’m too tired. Sorry, gotta go help with a case. Sure, I’ll see if I can go. Sorry, I’m going out with Damian. I promised Tim that I would help him with something. Can’t you ask Bruce? I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’T. I CAN’TIMSORRYICANTIMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRY ARE YOU SORRY-

“Can you not?” she snapped, pulling her shoulder away from his grasp. Almost as if his touch burned her.

He recoiled, startled at the sudden action. Eyes widening in confusion and surprise. He put both of his hands up, trying to look defenseless.

“Oh, um, sorry. I didn’t think-” he tried to talk, but she just brushed him off and moved towards the fridge to look for something to take away the head-shattering migraine that was pounding between her ears.

Except the whispers were back. Again. 

‘Can you also not? Let me at least eat something, Jesus.’

She complained to herself, feeling a bit crazy while doing so. But the coldness settled for a moment. And the headache, too.

‘So maybe I am not going that crazy…’ She thought as she picked up a crystal jug filled with what she assumed was orange juice and some protein bars she found on the fridge door before closing it with her knee.

The man had not moved from his position, still staring at her as if she had grown a second head. His hands were even still up in the air, frozen.

Even the gremlin was staring at her with a calculating glare. But something was assuring her that it was just his face.

She didn’t say a single thing to them, sticking to serving some juice to drink. Finding a cup wasn’t so hard, just taking a clean one from the drying rack as she muttered under her breath. Maybe staying a few more hours holed up in a dead girl’s bedroom wasn’t such a bad idea if it meant she could have avoided meeting the ghost of the hallways and Mister touchy feelings over there.

“Richard Grayson,” The sudden cold lips at her ear made her almost choke on her juice, but she managed to hold it back.

‘What’s up with your fucking timing?!’

The ghost on her shoulder ignored her (because she was 100% sure it was a ghost, fight her on that).

“Liar. Pitiful. Avoidant. Fake. Liar. Liar. LiaR. LiAR. LIAR-”

“How hard did you hit your head to be acting like a savage animal?” the snobbish gremlin said with his nose turned up, glaring at the empty cup in her hand.

Looks like she downed it so fast that she didn’t even notice it. A small hiccup left her throat, making her flush a bit in embarrassment.

“Now, Dami, that’s not nice,” the man, Richard, said as he walked towards her. 

But she moved away from him with a grimace, avoiding his extended hand again. He probably intended to pat her back or something, but she wasn’t feeling like it. So she took a sharp curve to the left and put the cup in the dishwasher to wash it.

Richard looked almost offended at that, staring at her with a hurt look and looking down at his hand. Did he do something wrong? Are his hands dirty or something?

Why is she avoiding him? Why won’t she let him hold her? She used to even preen over a simple pat!

“So,” he clapped his hands awkwardly, trying to disguise a bit the tense situation. “How’s the wound? Heard it wasn’t pretty.”

Such a smooth move, Dick.

Both Damian and her turned to look at him in disbelief.

She scoffed, a sarcastic laugh as she slammed down the now clean cup in the drying rack. Her eyes gave a bit of a maniacal glint that made him click his mouth shut.

That was… new.

“Yeah, having my head cracked open on the pavement is not a pretty sight. Such an outstanding observation!”

Her tone made him wince, and even Damian looked a bit surprised at her biting answer. But he mostly seemed entertained by the drama unfolding in front of him.

Richard sighed deeply at that, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was digging a deeper hole.

“I didn’t mean like that,” he uttered out before gesturing towards her. “You’re just so sensitive today, and I’m-”

“Excuse me, the fuck you mean by ‘I’m being sensitive’?”

Suddenly, Damian’s empty plate looked a lot more interesting to him.

Pure irritation and indignation were oozing from her body, making Richard lift his hands up and close and open his mouth like a gaping fish. He took a few steps forward, slowly.

“Wooh, I meant that you-’

But she was not having it.

“You just waltz back in here, acting all concerned, and tell me how I’m supposed to be acting like it’s something kind of play? Is that it?”

“No! Is just that you are not reacting-”

“Reacting like what? Like I should be sooo glad that you are cutting some of your time to show you care?” Her face was twisted in a snarl. So much indignation was bubbling from inside her chest and making her fists shake by her sides.

His expression was similar to as if he had gotten the air punched out of him. Those words hit a bit too close. 

“Hun, that’s not what I-” his hand went to grab her forearm. But it got slapped away.

Suddenly, he had a pointed finger up in his face and a fuming teenage girl glaring at him from hell and back.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” She spat out. Turning around and picking her protein bars, she stomped towards the entrance of the kitchen and yelled over her shoulder before disappearing down the hall.

“ Ever Again! ”

The uncomfortable silence reigned over the kitchen for a long time. Neither of the two people there said a thing until the butler of the family made his way into the room, carrying some plastic bags from the grocery store trip he had made to make something more nutritious for the young lady, which would help her get some more energy. But the tense air made him raise an eyebrow, taking notice of the grieving expression on Master Dick’s face and the thoughtful expression on Master Damian’s.

“Everything alright with breakfast, Masters?” he asked while putting away the groceries.

Damian picked up his dishes and began to wash them in the sink, not paying any attention to Grayson’s obvious crisis.

“I think Embarrassment is going through her rebellious stage… or puberty.”

“...I see.”

Dick just started sobbing against the counter.

✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼

And that would summarize the hellish morning she just had.

Nobody had come to bother her, thank God. Alfred even brought her a complete breakfast to her room and didn’t ask any questions about why she lay on the floor while glaring at the ceiling as if it had offended her in the worst way possible. If only the people around were more like him, she wouldn’t have gone all berserk on the touchy guy.

She felt a bit bad over snapping that way, but he wouldn’t stop trying to touch her. And let’s say that the odd vibrating sensation under her skin was not helping with receiving touch.

It hurt. It honestly hurt. It felt like burning branding, and it hurt.

Even her clothes felt like needles against her skin. It was very uncomfortable, and it was driving her insane. The only thing that could soothe it was the coldness from the ghost that followed her everywhere.

Oh, right. The ghost.

She had a few impressions of who it could be, since she had made it pretty obvious with all the clues she had been getting from way back at the police station. And all those memories and feelings and outbursts (okay, the outbursts were all her own, but she certainly gave the push), it wasn’t that hard to put two and two together.

The real (Y/N) Wayne was haunting here in the most unconventional way possible.

Unlike the men of the family (except Alfred), the actual spirit wasn’t trying to scare the hell out of her. Which gained a thousand brownie points in her favor. As for why said ghost was still here and helping her out instead of throwing a fit for getting her literal body stolen from her, that was still a mystery.

“Can you only talk to me? Is that not boring to you?” she asked the empty air beside her on the bed, fidgeting mindlessly with the seams of an old lilac blanket. 

After getting quite harshly shoved into the bed and having throwed at the weighted blanket over her, she had gotten the message that the ghost didn’t mind her being in her space.

And she didn’t even know if ghost girl was actually beside her. It was just a random decision, so she didn’t feel she was going as crazy as she was.

Then a round of unanswered questions began to pass the time. There was no way she was gonna venture around the manor and run the chance of encountering another annoying guy related to her.

“I wonder, does your dad just have a hobby of picking up the most entitled guys as his son, or is it pure coincidence?” That got her a tickling sensation on her nose similar to a pinch.

It wasn’t exactly an answer, but she would take it as a yes.

She snorted and sighed deeply, letting her eyes slip close. That weighted blanket was doing wonders to calm her down.

She wondered if Billy was doing all right, wherever he was.

Is he too far away? (Of course, he is; she can’t feel him in her head. She always felt him there. No matter how far apart they were from one another.)

Is he going through the same thing? Adapting to a new body? (Some odd feeling told her he wasn’t going through it exactly like her. But she couldn’t figure out why.)

Is he eating? Is he alone? Does he also have a ghost companion like her? Where is he? God, where is he-

A sudden clattering and crashing sound startled her out of her trance thoughts. Sitting up on the bed and looking around the room for the source of the noise. As she slid to the edge of the bed, the creaking door of the wardrobe opened slowly.

…She gave a dead stare to the empty air.

“If you want me dead, just say so. No need for spooky shit.”

As if on sync, the door opened completely. It was filled to the brim with scarves, coats, dresses, and shirts in the same aesthetic and colors as the room. From deep purple to soft lilac, black, and dirty green. And scattered over the floor, a cardboard box open with what she could identify as cassettes.

The blanket slid off of her, and a small shove on her shoulder had her standing up and walking over to the mess on the floor. Grumbling as she crouched to clean up.

“Y’know, being your eternal maid is not exactly on my plans, so how about we keep your stuff cle-” her ranting stopped once the label on one of the cassettes caught her eye.

‘Diary Entry: Year 6’

She sat down on the floor, noticing how all the other cassettes had different numbers written on their labels as she picked them up. There were a total of ten cassettes, the number one being in such a deplorable state that indicated someone had thrown it around and pulled out the tape on purpose.

A dragging sound behind her made her look away and over her shoulder. 

A cassette player, very well taken care of, stood out by the edge beneath the bed. She looked back at the old box and the destroyed cassette in her hands, her fingers gently running along the sticky recording tape.

Well, time to listen to a ghost’s podcast.

She preferred that over getting out of the room. 

A win is a win.

• • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Author's Note: I Keep on saying I won't make long chapters, better stop believing me fr. So, a small update about what's gonna happen in the next two-three weeks. Next week, I'll be entering the last weeks of the semester and I'm locking in completely. I'm also going on a weekend trip by the end of this week, so next chapter will be published after that trip and then focus on finals. I'll try my best to publish weekly, could early or late but always expect towards sundays. That would be all for now! Let me know your thoughts on this chapter and give it some love! Lots of hugs,

GG✨

Tag List:

@bat1212 @kneelforloki @1abi @galaxypurplerose @yhin-gg @cxcilla @momentomoribitch @stargirl404 @initial-ari @welpthisisboring @icefox8155 @bunniotomia @alittlelostmoonchild @devotedlyshamelessdetective @shycreatorreview @nirvanaxx1942 @soulsire @ryuushou @rinkydinkythinky @lithiumval @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2 @cssammyyarts @lordbugs

Bonus Memes:

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Religious Fanatic

She's convinced that God chose you to be her partner. The fact that you disagree is irrelevant.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who rises through the ecclesiastical ranks like God truly is on her side. Hers is the holy cause, the righteous one. If heretics have to burn at the stake to cleanse the masses, then so be it. She'll carry the torch.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who gives sermons like hellfire and brimstone are staining her tongue. Who moves people, convinces them to join her congregation through sheer fervour. Whose influence grows everyday.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who fits into so many times and places. She could be a Roman priestess or oracle. She could be a holy knight during the middle ages. She could be an outspoken and powerful vizier in the Ottoman court.

Regardless, your story and hers both play out the same. Time can't change what God and heaven have ordained.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who meets you entirely by accident. She's on a street corner, preaching to a crowd that grows every minute.

And then there's you. At the very back, eyes narrowed.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who meets your gaze - you alone, out of the surging dozens. She directs it all at you. The love religion can bring, the fulfillment. The way your life will never lack meaning. The way you'll never go hungry again, if you have faith to sustain you. She pours her heart out.

And you just walk away.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who isn't sure how to react. She's been hated, she's been scorned. But such terrible apathy? You don't want to be saved, you don't want anything at all.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who tries to let it go. You can't save everyone. Not all hearts are open to the truth. But she doesn't quite manage it. She kneels before her God and thinks of you. The sun slanting across your cheeks, the bruised hollows under your eyes. You're tired. You're beaten down and chewed up.

You need succor. You need rest.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who can give it to you. Who wants to give it to you.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who finds you again by chance. In the worst part of the city, handing out bread to the poor and needy. It puzzles her. You have no love for God or prayer, no belief in heaven or divine punishment. So why do you still go out of your way to serve the destitute?

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who strikes up a conversation with you. There are a dozen others who want her attention - advice, blessings, all of her charity. But once again, she only has eyes for you.

You're reserved but polite. Not denying her attempts to convert you, but not encouraging them either. You're not taken in by her charisma. It should be frustrating, but she finds it intriguing instead. You're an anomaly. A test.

She's destined to save you, she knows it.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who asks a few of her closest followers to keep an eye on you.

"I feel heaven working strangely."

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who listens carefully to every report they bring back. Who your family is, who you socialise with, how you spend your days.

At first, she's just trying to puzzle you out. Why do you feel so special? What is her role in your life?

But the more she learns, the more sure she feels. You're her perfect counterpoint. Logical and balanced where she's passionate. Calm where she's excitable. Observant where she's not.

If heaven guides her, then surely you're heaven sent?

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who can't help but feel frustrated at not being able to get closer to you. Any attempts to talk about God and heaven are met with a polite dismissal. Any attempts to spend time with you are interrupted by her followers or her duties. For now, she tries to be content with what little she has.

She'll love you from a distance, for however long it takes.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic whose political power grows as her influence does. Who in time comes to sit on the political council of your city, who comes to have the ruler's ear. What governor would dare turn away someone with such a large following?

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who dreams every night of the city on fire, and you, at the centre of it all. A prophecy? A warning?

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who slowly starts replacing the elected officials with her own followers. How else can she cleanse the city? The government must itself be pure if the citizens are to be as well.

It makes people uncomfortable. There's whispers of her replacing the ruler soon, of her being the next to sit the throne. But whispers are all people feel comfortable with. She has so many followers now, that it's hard to be sure who can keep a secret and who can't.

The last straw is when the ruler gives her power to form her own squadron of peackeepers. They don't only arrest the criminals, but the sinners too. Money lenders. Prostitutes. Gamblers.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who isn't at all surprised to see you standing before the Senate soon after.

"This isn't lawful or just," you say to the assembled politicians and priests. "This city is home to half a dozen gods, three dozen different beliefs. How can one reign supreme over us all?"

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who's honestly pleased to hear you speak. She was right. Everything about is calm, controlled.

When she stands to offer a rebuttal, the entire room quiets to hear her. Her voice is filled with a half veiled intensity. She's all passion where you were quiet logic.

"Heaven's light falls on us all equally. Heaven's love is for us all to feel. Why then, should we have different laws for different people?"

"We shouldn't. We shouldn't have religious laws at all."

That makes her laugh.

"Oh lamb, how else will the law be just if not guided by God?"

There are politicians and senators who disagree with her. Who fear her. But when the vote is passed, they don't abstain. It would be career suicide to go against her.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who hears the discontentment from the disbelievers and it only encourages her. If the sinners object, then surely she must be doing something right.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic whose ranks swell with converts. Some see the light, but most only do it out of fear. They don't want to be stopped by the peacekeepers. Don't want their businesses scrutinised too closely. A storm is brewing and they want the shelter she offers.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who starts to see a whole lot more of you. Talking to senators, to the people. You don't have her obvious charisma, but there's something about you that makes people listen. A sense of certainty, perhaps.

Whatever it is, you start to gather your own supporters. People who believe the city should be ruled by the laws of Man and not God.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who's there the night the ruler dies. One of the few in the room, one of the first to know. She prays over his body and his eyes are scarcely closed before she's taking charge.

And her very first order? Find and arrest you. You're the face of the resistance. Without you, will the others still be brave enough to stand against her?

When her guards find you, you're in the middle of a meeting with your comrades. It turns into a bloodbath to get you.

At first, she's displeased. When you're brought to her, you're bleeding from a dozen different cuts and your lip is split.

"What is this?" you demand, as though you aren't being held in chains.

"The ruler is dead," she says simply. "I want to ensure a peaceful transition of power."

That makes you laugh. "He's scarcely started to cool and already there's blood on the streets. Tell me, is that the peace you wanted?"

She keeps you locked away. Even when your followers come to demand your release, even when the senators start to whisper that she's going mad.

It could go one of two ways. The people revolt or they don't.

Even you're starting to believe she must be lucky, because after she declares that any rebel activity will be punished by executing you, the last few members of the opposition give up. Surrender and watch their city become a theocracy. They've all seen the way she looks at you. If she's willing to put your head at an executioner's mercy, what will she do to her enemies?

After she has you, she stops dreaming of fire.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who tells herself she keeps you because it ensures obedience. And perhaps that's true on some level.

But the real reason she keeps you locked away? It's because she loves you. Loves bringing you your meals and talking to you. Loves the way your mind works. Loves the determination that never wanes.

You're not the same as you were, you're harder now, resentful. But that's fine. She has all the time in the world to win you over.

Heaven and fate themselves chose you as hers. Who are you to to go against them?

[solarplanet2]

Little Eldritch Creature part 2

DCxDP Prompt/Drabbles

Chirp! Chirp!

Bruce expected many things when Oracle suddenly told him in comms that Jason's tracker went to the cave.

He expected something might have happened to Jason since Oracle had told him that his comms were gone, cut off.

He did not expect a little glowing creature chirping, almost in concern, around Jason.

"Get it off me!"

"Todd! I won't tolerate you hurting the little creature!"

"Why is it so cute?"

"What is that thing? It's not a fish right?"

"A worm maybe?"

"Ugh....bright.."

Little. Cute.

The said creature was small, with a green tail for legs, white hair that floats and blue skin, from closer inspection, he looked like he was wearing a long sleeve black shirt with white cuffs. Their ears were slightly pointed but still visible.

And also big wide green eyes that reminds Bruce of puppy dog eyes.

Bruce should be really freaking out right now. An unknown entity is in the Batcave and it seems to like Jason and charmed his family.

Which usually is not a good sign.

Bruce cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention, that includes the little creature.

"Jason." Bruce says slowly, it made the said man grimace. "Where did you find...him?" Bruce took a moment to look at the creature who was clinging on the side of Jason's helmet, looking at Bruce as if he was listening. When Bruce hesitantly said the pronoun as if acknowledging the little creature, the said creature nodded.

Well, He understands him. One question out of his list.

Jason clicked his tongue. "I found him where Oracle reported about the disturbance in the satellite. That's when my comms started to loose cignal. I saw something glowing by the dumpster and when I took a look...I found him."

The little creature chirped in cue, as if he knew Jason was referring to him.

"And then he went in and smack into my face." Judging by Jason's tone, it wasn't good experience.

"And he just what? Stuck with you?" Tim asked suspiciously.

"I tried getting him off but he won't--!!" Jason did try. He tried grabbing the little creature off him but Jason's hand went through him or even letting go from Jason's helmet and floated around him as Jason tried to catch him. Then went back to holding on to Jason's helmet on the side.

"See!? Get him off! I have other things to do!"

The little creature chirped as if he was amused.

Bruce sighed. He should call Constantine even if he doesn't want to, this is clearly magic stuff.

Bruce takes off his cowl and grabs his com. "Let me call Zatanna about this."

"Uhm....B?"

Bruce blinked at the green eyes staring right back at him. The little creature suddenly let go of Jason and floated towards Bruce. The Small thing was staring at him before tilting his head, from Bruce's observation, it seems like he was confused, debating.

"Dad?"

Bruce blinked.

What?

: )

Part 1

[leafyeyes417]

To soothe myself from my last post where it’s non-Joker hate *shudders* here have this.

————————————————————————

The first three months of Danny’s stay in Gotham had been mostly quiet. No big Rogue attacks since most of them were in Arkham. Unfortunately that had come to an end. There was a mass breakout and among them was the Joker.

Danny had made friends with a couple people, during his classes, and had met his new crush Tim at a coffee shop. He was actually with Tim when they got the news about the breakout. They had been walking out to Tim’s car so he could be driven home when it happened.

Tim’s POV

He had been talking with Danny when he saw him shudder and stop walking.

He frowned, turning towards him. “Danny? What’s wrong?” He watched as Danny paled, full body twitched, then his eyes turned a glowing red that took over his entire eyes. He snarled, face almost inhuman as he turned and booked it down the street at inhuman speeds (though nowhere near Flash speed).

Scrambling Tim jumped in his car and chased after Danny, though he quickly lost him. He grabbed his com and turned it on. “Oracle, I need you to track someone.” He quickly rattled out along with the street information and Danny’s description.

“Red Robin, report.” Batman growled out.

“I was walking with my friend back to my car after we heard the news of the breakout. On the way there he froze and then… I’m not quite sure but whatever it was I don’t think he was in control anymore.”

There was silence for a few moments on the coms. Oracle spoke, “I think I found his location. The cameras are fritzing out big time in a decent area near your location.”

When he managed to get there he was honestly a little sickened. There was body parts and blood everywhere. Joker goons, from the occasional mask lying around. Swallowing he ventured deeper into the zone, having to turn off his coms due to the screeching interference.

When he finally set his eyes on Danny it was to see him arm deep into the Joker’s chest. He paused, watching as the Joker’s body fell to the floor, his heart still in Danny’s hand. He watched as Danny’s eyes stopped glowing red and he swayed, dropping the heart to bring a hand to his head.

“Danny?” He asked hesitantly.

Danny turned, a hazy expression on his face. “Tim?” He slurred out.

Quickly making his way over he managed to prevent Danny from toppling over, grimacing at the blood now coating his hand. He noticed the other bats and birds arriving on scene out of the corner of his eye, but stayed focused on Danny. “Let’s get you out of here.” He said gently as he guided Danny out of the area.

Later, after he had managed to get Danny some water and a bit of food, he asked, “Do you remember what happened, Danny?” His friend looked down at his blood covered hands. “I remember walking to your car when it was like I was being grabbed by a bunch of hands and I couldn’t move. Then… it almost felt like I was being stuffed into a box or something and everything was hazy and indistinct after that. I tried fighting it but it like catching smoke. Then I was being released but it was like I had no energy. I know you called my name but I don’t recall much until after you gave me the energy bar.”

Tim frowned, glancing at Black Bat. He saw her sign “true” and nodded. Looks like they might have to call the JLD on this one.