#Anyway the nightwing run sounds not great

[ultfreakme]

Jon Kent’s multiple Daddy Issues: A Ramble

As the title suggests, this will be about Jon’s relationship and his feelings with regards to Clark.  I’m dividing this into 2 phases. Phase 1 is pre-SOKE, Phase 2 is SOKE and holding the Superman Mantle.

PHASE 1

At the moment, Jon is in a very difficult position with the Kent family and the world in general. He has missed out on about 6 years of his life with his family and friends, but the world had moved a mere three weeks. But his problems didn’t start here, they started even before that.

Pre-Volcano torture, Jon had two major issues

Being perceived as a threat rather than a hero, and having to live up to Superman.

On multiple occasions, Jon has been either used by someone with evil motives to take out their mission(Manchester Black) or he’s been deemed a threat to earth(Saviour!Tim and Parallax, Damian for a while because of the Goldie killing and kidnapping thing). His days as Superboy started off great, but on many occasions he’s expressed insecurity with his powers and realized that being Superboy means living up to his father’s name and finding a place for himself. Now I dislike Bendis’s decisions, but he did bring up Jon’s doubts, something that has plagued him for a while.

I love Super Sons & Superman Rebirth but Jon’s emotional issues are rarely explored or taken forward. He has a realization, and it’s left in the dust primarily because he was never the center of any story up until SOKE. After a while, Jon’s sorta getting that being a hero isn’t as easy or cool as he once thought and the idea that he has a legacy to live up to is sinking in. On top of this, a person tried to kill him because he has the potential to be evil. He also has insecurities with being half-kryptonian and half-human(Eradicator, it’s made worse in SOKE).

Point is, Jon’s trepidation started when he was young.

Next thing that caused a HUGE, GLARING problem, is the volcano torture, which I’m going to talk about in two-parts

Jon was not saved

From SOKE #9, we know Jon’s been stuck in the volcano for about 5-6 years. During this time, he called for help and he says he even called for Nightwing. If I were Superman’s kid, I’m calling dad first, but at some point, he must’ve gotten exhausted enough to call upon anyone, anyone, even Nightwing who literally cannot fight someone as powerful as Ultraman but this is was a kid desperate to be saved.

It’s even worse, because Jon must’ve seen Clark saving multiple people day-to-day. He knows what his dad’s capable of and seen it first-hand. His father is his hero, he’s the universe’s hero and he failed.

Jon was tortured not by an imitator or someone sharing his father’s face, that literally is his dad but in a different universe

See, if Jon was tormented by someone in the likeness of his dad, he can tell himself “this will never happen, this means nothing” because the differences are surface-level. Ultraman is simply Clark Kent gone wrong, and to a kid, even as smart as Jon, that must leave an impact. Ultraman was using the same power-set as his dad, and when he had first gotten to that Earth, he actually thought it was his dad. So to not only be abandoned, but to be trapped and tortured by a version of his dad for years must leave some long-lasting and unshakeable trauma. 

Jon was never sent help, he escaped on his own and found his way back home.

 Superman, his dad, isn’t infallible and he failed him. To truly understand the weight of this, read Superman: Up In The Sky. The entire arc is about one human girl who gets abducted, and everyone’s telling Clark to not chase after this one child across the universe because the Earth needs protection, but he does it anyway because there’s a kid waiting for him and he can’t let that kid down. The run explains the guilt he feels, the lengths he’d go to in order to save one soul even if it sounds like a fools errand. He goes through hell.

This is what Jon’s expecting.

Now despite all this, Jon clearly still loves Clark and all his interactions with Clark are casual and warm after the age-up. Still, he’s lost time with them and is seeing his family after so long. The lasting effects of the time lost comes through in Bendis’s(derogatory) next arc with the Superfam where Jon temporarily returns from his summer camp with Legion of Superheroes(LoSH) with Brainiac 5, and the second he sees Kon he’s like “dad did you guys replace me with a cooler son?”. Bendis probably used it as a “haha the funny!” joke thing but I’m taking it as Jon’s immediate and deep insecurities with regards to being Clois’s kid. He was gone for a while and he had no idea what was happening during those 6 years. For all he knew his dad Superman could be dead, captured, or maybe they forgot Jon and thought him dead and moved on. He has issues about his place on Earth, and its so much worse than before.

I frankly don’t want to discuss LoSH, I’ve read it twice and I still remember nothing. Anyways, his reasoning for going, and the reason why LoSH invited him was because he was supposed to show them how 21st century heroes work and to help LoSH reconnect to og superhero roots. The worst pick of a candidate for this but whatever. So he goes because he has purpose there, but he returns promptly because, most likely, he doesn’t find any need to be there. His place isn’t in this far future.

So he comes home, everything’s settling in, the family’s together, Conner has been confirmed to not be his replacement. It’s going great!

Not.

Right as things calm down, his dad leaves on another mission and gives JON the Superman mantle.

Thus begins Phase 2 of Jon’s daddy issues

PHASE 2

Things are terrible. Jon’s not had the time or space to really explore what kind of hero he wants to be, what kind of Superman he wants to represent. With the realization that his dad can fuck up and being a Gen Z teenager, he’s realizing his dad’s not perfect, hence the “Why don’t you do more?”.

Most people I’ve seen shit on Jon for saying this and not having done more than Clark in these 13 issues. The point of SOKE and Dark Crisis at the moment isn’t to say Jon is better than Clark. He isn’t, but he can be. He’s potential that needs to be realized, not the immediate answer to Jon’s own question. SOKE is about Jon figuring things out and on his way, he is going to fuck up.

So he starts off all confident, but quickly realizes he’s been given a task far beyond his capabilities.

He’s not ready. The narrative makes it clear, Jon himself has his doubts. His biggest villain in SOKE isn’t Bendix, it’s the shadow of his father. Jay’s arc is about Bendix and is very action-oriented. Jon gets the emotional arc, and it’s peppered in everywhere.

We start with re-establishing that Jon cannot rely on Clark anymore(#3 and #4). His dad has abandoned him once again to help someone that isn’t him. There’s a simmering, subtle bitterness Jon holds towards Clark which he can never express. It starts with the Annual where he’s talking to his dad’s hologram, continues with Nightwing #89 where he goes to his dad for advice but gets nothing and would rather be left alone, and keeps going in #12 when he says he knows what it’s like to not be saved and says he won’t let it happen again.

Jon’s new definition of his Superman is surrounding what Jon wanted out of a hero. He wanted someone who would be there, someone who’ll answer the call but he’s so hesitant with it because much like the entire world, Jon knows it is an uphill battle trying to be better than Clark. With all the insecurities from phase 1 in mind, it’s even worse for Jon.

His father is his challenge, but also the person he wants to make proud because at the end of the day, that’s his dad.

The worst part is he can’t direct any of his resentment towards Clark because ‘technically’ it is not Clark’s fault. He didn’t know those 3 weeks meant 6 years for Jon. He wasn’t the one who tortured Jon. Clark shows how upset and angry he is at Jor-El for subjecting his son to this. Clark isn’t at fault.

To the rest of Jon’s universe, Superman is still perfect.

So what the hell is Jon supposed to do with all this emotion?

Say nothing.

He will say absolutely nothing, he will continue to be a good son, he will carry on his father’s(the one who the world sees as great) legacy. He won’t and can’t say “actually my dad wasn’t that great” because who the hell is going to take him seriously?

No one.

Jon’s going to be on his best behaviour and be the best son ever. “Dad, will you be proud?” “Dad are you looking?” “Dad do you approve?”

The saddest part, is that it’s kind of pointless.

Because Clark doesn’t see the Jon in front of him anymore.

In Action Comics, Clark’s like beaten to a bloody pulp and he’s sorta hallucinating or dreaming and he says “my son’s turning 12″(sir your son’s 17 going on 18). In a more recent issue he talks about this toy he made for Jon when he was a kid, and makes it for these two other young kids. In World Without a Justice League: Superman, it’s very clear he doesn’t know who Jon Kent is anymore, and he’s living out this dream where he gets to see Jon grow up. And this Jon is absolutely nothing like the real Jon.

This Jon has no fear, no need to gain his dad’s approval and he’s confident. Clark makes a speech about how proud he is of the dream Jon and envisions him in a suit that’s basically a copy of his own.

Clark’s image of Jon, even if it’s unconsciously, is of a child. A 12-year old kid. Not the 17-18 year old. He’s simply refusing to look at the current Jon and Jon rn doesn’t know this.

Jon’s fighting against the mantle of Superman and the ghost of his past self, and at almost every turn, he’s losing. Jon doesn’t know about Clark’s opinion, but even without direct insight, he’s constantly fighting to show the world he’s worthy of being a hero and is trying make people look at him. Not Clark, not the 10-12 year old him, but the current him.

I think Dark Crisis made a conscious choice when Jon’s first battle there is with Cyborg Superman. His biggest problem is assembling a Justice League. Jon can’t resent his father for being such a good person that he went out to a place called “Warworld” to save people, he can’t. How can anyone be annoyed that Superman’s helping people?

So he shut up, bottles it all in and works even if he’s scared shitless(because of the volcano trauma, the murder accusation, everyone calling him ‘Superteen’, multiple people all over the world cowering in fear when he wants to help, pre-existing far from the Goldie death issue, him being used by Manchester Black to attack his family, fear of endangering his lover and family,  failing his dad and therefore the earth if he doesn’t respond right). He can’t afford to do anything else because as Superman he doesn’t have the time.

Thus, Jon’s stuck in this emotional prison, unable to find any place to express his problems.

#jon kent #jonathan kent #superman son of kal el #son of kal el #superman #superboy #jonjay #jayjon #dc comics #dcu #superfam #clois #clark kent #jon kent meta #dc meta #jonathan samuel kent #super sons

[zorilleerrant]

There's a kid Dick knows. Dick's only been in Gotham three times when It Happens, but he wasn't performing the first time, so he had time to hang out in the stands with this kid. Kind of scraggly, kind of short, but scrappy, clearly a fighter. Great conversationalist. Loves history, loves architecture especially. Kind of ominous. Kind of angry. Kind of hopeful, in a bittersweet way.

This kid is there just hanging out, but mouth agape as Dick's parents swing to and fro on the trapeze, surprising a laugh out of every member of the audience, and even Dick himself at the height of their arc. The show is flawless. It's always flawless. And the kid is mesmerized by everything in the Big Top, from the clowns doing their sound effects to the strongman lifting everyone. (Even enough to whistle, at that.) They clap politely, and disappear.

Dick's used to kids disappearing on him, traveling the way he does, and it's enough to spend a few hours with a good conversationalist, enthusiastic, if a little weird. He doesn't expect to see the kid again, the second time, after his first performance in front of a crowd, eyes glittering and holding out a hand in congratulations. Dick shakes that hand a little too hard and laughs a little to loud and asks a little too anxiously how did you like the show? He gets his compliments. The kid's wary of the clowns this time in a way they weren't the last, but everything else still seems new and shiny, even though Dick was there when they saw it all last year.

The kid is there That Time, too. Dick's sure of it.

There's a kid the first time Dick comes back to Gotham as Nightwing, a kid that looks so familiar that he couldn't tell you why, a kid that looks at him with chin jutted out and eyes full of betrayal, a kid who says they don't need Nightwing to save them. Shoves him away. Disappears into the night.

The kid forgives him, eventually. Or maybe it's another kid. There's so many, and every time Dick pulls one away from the fire, he can see bright eyes in the dark, softening, nodding at him.

...

There's a kid Jason knows. The kid is bigger than him by a lot and always knows the best places to hide. They never steal Jason's food - of course, they never seem to know anywhere to get it, but Jason's still too little to worry about that - so he feels safe eating next to them. He feels safe around them, anyway. They never do much. But they care.

The kid doesn't grow. Jason doesn't either, to be fair. He doesn't know how old the kid is, just older than him by a long shot, except when angry voices call out to them to run away they run together, and the voices always think they're the same age. Jason's too small to be the same age as anyone with that glint in their eye. The kid helps him slip a few wallets off of out of towners. It's easy to tell a tourist, and they've got fatter wads of cash. It's the first time Jason learns to pickpocket, and, thinking back, it shouldn't have been as easy as it was. The kid didn't want a share. The kid didn't even want a slice.

The kid is smaller than Jason. Not by a lot, but Jason's still worried, because as little as he sees the kid, it's still too often for the kid to just never eat. Still. The kid looks clean and new that night, shiny, like they just came from a birthday party. Jason's always jealous of the birthday parties thrown clear across the city, people poking their heads out of cars and screaming into the night. He doesn't have a car, but he knows where to get one.

Jason looks for the kid so many times, always thinks he sees them, but they're never there, and he's worried he scared them away with his new clothes and his carefully trimmed hair and a book he just wanted to read to them. He can't find them. He can never seem to find anyone he used to know.

Jason comes back to Gotham different, but Gotham still knows him, still takes him by the hand and nods with too sharp eyes, still never eats a single bite. Silently shows him the dark places and the quiet ones, the shadows of violence and the glimmers of peace. Jason's never let anyone lay a finger on a kid with his hands empty, but this kid - there's a kid Jason knows, and there's places to go if he needs to keep the kid safe.

...

There's a kid Tim knows. There's a kid with the slyest smile, this slowly burgeoning grin, who speaks in ways that Tim wants to call unctuous but only because that's the word of the day. A kid with slicked back hair and a too perfect suit, and kid who laughs like they're exactly aware of how fake they sound when they speak. A kid who meets Tim's gaze and holds it. Raises an eyebrow.

...

There's a kid Steph knows. A kid who's always banged up but never seems to want a bandage, a kid who snaps her own words back at her when she calls them on it. A kid with too long hair who keeps pushing it out of their eyes, who always darts out of view just too fast for Steph to catch up to them. A kid who infuriates Steph.

That's okay. A lot of kids infuriate Steph. That doesn't mean she's not going to look out for them.

The kid sours at questions and balks at trivia, but likes cold hard facts that sound like an encyclopedia come to life. It's hard to have a conversation at first, because Steph likes the give and take of the Socratic method, but the kid likes lists. The kid likes libraries, too. Steph takes to meeting them in the library, because at least there it's got a little bit of heat for the two of them, lights that don't strain their eyes. The kid smiles like a tiger when they get their hands on a thesaurus and it makes Steph just a little suspicious.

The kid doesn't seem well fed, doesn't seem well taken care of, but they keep coming back, day after day, and their injuries never seem to get worse. (Well, they do, sometimes, but it's only times when everyone and their cousin is injured, because those sorts of things just happen in Gotham. And it would be more worrying if they weren't.) No one's looking after the kid, but they won't let Steph look after them either, despite the fact that she's probably got at least two years on them, maybe more.

She feels like there probably should be someone to call. She doesn't know who, and everyone she does know, she already doesn't trust. She suggests Batman, one time, and the kid lights up like the city center on the last Friday in November, but they've disappeared by the time she works out how to entice the Bat.

...

There's a kid Cass knows. She doesn't know them, precisely, but the first time she found herself lost they were there to lead the way. They're there every time. And they're not a kid, either, for all they look like one. They feel older than they can explain to her, but she can see it in the way they walk, every time. They don't bother to hide from her anymore, so she takes care to hide them from everyone else.

...

There's a kid Duke knows. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark expression, the same pent up rage behind careful footsteps and careful nods. There's a kid that never turns down a helping hand but never asks for one either, a kid Duke keeps inviting over despite the fact they always run off before dinner. A kid everyone knows, a kid Duke can say, hey, you know that one kid? And they do.

This kid helps Duke out if he asks, rattles off facts and figures like they don't need to breathe, looks pleased if they hit on something he was trying to get at, something he desperately wanted to know. They're hungry for knowledge even more than he is, trying to read his textbooks over his shoulder, eyes aglow every time they land on something new. Hurrying, like there's no time to know every fact in the world, always in a rush.

The kid talks like they have all the time in the world, the kid talks like they've been there through everything, the kid talks like something's coming, something's always coming. Duke knows that feeling. Duke looks around every corner, too, and learns to spot the ones where the kid looks anxious, and the ones where the kid looks like they're just too polite to laugh at him for checking.

The kid's clothes are too big but they never want any of Duke's, the kid's hair is messy but they'll stay still long enough for Duke to braid it back up again. The kid might be older than him. The kid is definitely a lot more reticent to face down another villain than him. The kid never seems to be there during the worst of it, but afterwards, well, Duke's never heard someone speak in softer tones to scared kids trapped in the rubble. He always turns around and they're gone.

...

There's a kid Damian knows. They hate him at first, the way children his age always do. They look at him with a sneer like they know more than he does, which is ridiculous, because he didn't study hard with all the world's knowledge at his fingertips just to have some street rat look down their nose at him. He follows them to the library just enough times to learn what he hasn't learned, and then he sets himself to that. He'll show them they aren't the only one who can pick up a book while running through the streets of Gotham.

Damian is older when he comes back, and the kid is, too, or else the kid always seemed older than Damian thought back when he was thinking of nothing but proving himself. But the kid looks at him, wetly, with pity and regret, and Damian doesn't know why that feels like home again. The kid is wounded, just like he is, and there's something in the expression that means Damian doesn't want to ask what they went through. Their skin is pale and their hair ragged shorn, but, some days later, when Damian feels well enough to go back out, they've darkened in the sun.

...

There's a kid Luke knows. From parties. Always rolling their eyes in the corner, a wineglass dangling from their fingers. Their praise for his work is hollow right until he talks around to the Harbor, whereupon the kid is more interested than any of the members of his board who are supposed to be working on the project. The kid knows more than any kid has any right to know. Things no kid should know. Things the Bats barely know. Things the Harbor itself should barely know, if it had some way to tell anyone.

...

There's a kid Helena knows. A kid just always one step ahead. A kid who was one step ahead of her mom when she was just learning, and a step ahead when she came back a world renowned thief. A kid one step ahead of Helena early in her learning curve, and another step ahead when they see her on the other side of the glass, who darts in with one flirtatious wink and leaves again, never caught on camera, never caught. Not by Helena, not by anyone. Always there, always gone, always a kid.

...

There’s a kid Babs knows. They always get in trouble – well, they always are in trouble, and they never get out of trouble, and her dad just likes to call them trouble, sometimes with a capital T. A kid with a scowl like sunshine, scouring clean the cobwebbed edges of the jail cells, a kid who always seems to know the way out even when Babs isn’t sure they’re supposed to be out, yet. They never ask her to unlock anything. She’s not their way out.

They’re not her way out, either, but she follows them, sometimes, into the maze of streets she knows like the back of her hand, too confident to even have her phone out to call her dad if she gets in trouble, and they love her for it. Dare her down alleyways and up walls she shouldn’t be able to scale. Or they shouldn’t, anyway, not tiny and twiggy like they are, no muscle to speak of covering their arms and legs, but the speed on them! Babs is always out of breath as she races to catch them, and then in trouble for leaving the station at all.

They’re always in the station when she’s there, but they’re always out of it when she’s on a walk, like they want to know where she’s going. They don’t speak directly to her. This is pretty normal for street kids, all told, because Babs is a resource when they need her dad – they trust her more than they trust an adult – but she’s still the daughter of a cop in the midst of them, and, well, yeah. She knows. So she knows why they won’t talk to her.

She doesn’t know why they won’t talk to her in costume. No one else has put those things together. They smile in this not quite knowing way like they have a reason, but they never approach, even though she’s seen them approach other people, other Bats.

She sees them everywhere, for a while. Out the window of her hospital room. Never close enough to make out their features, just the occasional glimpse of russet hair or freckles, the occasional upturned head and sympathetic look, even though no one could possibly see her from the ground. Less even than she can see them, with the glare on the windows, and it’s hard to find them running off into the crowd. They talk to her a lot, online. It’s odd. They seem more comfortable behind a screen, but then, aren’t they all. Babs likes the distance, too, the pane of safety she can hide behind like bulletproof glass. They talk all the time once she has a screenname no one else should know, and they have one she never quite remembers.

...

There's a kid Diego knows. Always sticking up for everyone, always sticking their nose where it doesn't belong. Always sticking it to, well, everyone they can find who even halfway needs sticking to, there in equal measure to help Diego up and tear him down. They're not exactly around every corner, except everyone who knows them doesn't quite know who they are, and he's never managed to fish out a name, not even at concerts, where they scream louder than everyone. They might not have a name yet. Diego gets that.

...

There's a kid Marcus knows. There's a kid he knew who always seemed so grown up when he was small and scared, who tried to tell him that the big bad bat wouldn't be able to find him in his sleep. A kid Marcus never trusted but who seemed to trust him, who looks at him now with a skeptical eye, but a nod, like they're going to let him do what he needs to and only step in if he doesn't. They're so small. Can't be the same kid. But Marcus will fight for a little kid, just the same, judgemental look and all.

...

There's a kid Xanthe knows. Not quite as dead as they are, although the kid looks like they've been washed through the ringer, now and again. Doesn't seem quite real half the time. Too real the other half. They're out and about at all hours, in Chinatown like they fit in, languages falling from their lips like they've spoken them longer than Xanthe has, kept more words in their head than Xanthe ever had the chance to. They're not from Chinatown. Most of the time, Xanthe's not entirely sure they're in Chinatown, even when they can see the kid right in front of them, plain as day. They give Xanthe paper that already feels like it has weight.

...

There's a kid Bruce knows. Yet another kid he can never save, the one kid he'll put everything on the line for.

There was a kid Bruce knew, that night, tears streaking the kid's face like his own. There was a kid Bruce knew when he first ran out of doors, screaming towards something he knew he had to stop. There was a kid when Bruce came home again, a kid who smiled like never before and begged him not to leave again. There was a kid every time he brought a new child home. Every time one left.

There's a kid that Bruce would die for, like any of his own, more than any of his own, and the kid is not him. Not his younger self, not his lost childhood, not his second chance. They just look like him, but, then, so do so many of the people in his life.

...

Cameron doesn't know a kid.

#look i said something #batman #my writing #fanfic #long post

[frozenjokes]

WoF/Third Life Crossover Fic Chapter Four - Great Idea!

NOTE: I use italics to indicate thoughts with the mind reading shenanigans. Italics don’t copy/paste onto tumblr and I am lazy. Ao3 version has italics and you can read that here

Pearl looked around her second period class as the rest of the students filed in, tail twitching. BigB and her walked  in together, Ren came in a couple minutes later with a few other dragons, and last in was Scar as usual. Still no Grian. 

“Did you see Grian this morning? I didn’t even think to check if he was up in the Nightwing nook,” she asked, turning to BigB. The Seawing looked around the classroom, as if noticing for the first time that something was missing.

“Ah, I did think it was quiet in history today. No, I haven’t seen him. You think he’s still asleep?”

“I don’t see how anyone could sleep through Ren’s little morning ballad,” she snorted, causing Ren to turn around.

“Hey! You were already awake anyway!” He shot back in mock outrage, “My Bigwings always made sure we started the morning properly energized before anything else, and I’ll see to it that tradition is carried on. Just you see, you guys will join me in no time.”

“Apparently Grian wasn’t,” BigB murmured thoughtfully, “Or maybe he wasn’t in the cave at all. Have you seen him, Ren?”

“Huh? Whatdya mean? Isn’t he..” Ren swung his broad head back and forth.

“You guys are awful,” Pearl chuckled, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated motion.

“Well maybe you Icewings have strict morning routines and schedules, but I’m not used to getting up this early yet,” BigB yawned, but his dark eyes shining with amusement.

“Yeah, that,” Ren waved his talons, “Have you asked Scar yet? He’s been all over the place today, maybe he’s seen Grian around.”

“No, I haven’t- Hey Scar!” Pearl called, but just as he turned around, their teacher called the class to attention. Pearl deflated, disappointed, but lightened up at an encouraging shoulder bump from BigB. The Seawing had such a kind smile that always seemed to say everything is gonna be alright. Pearl nodded, settling down for class. She just hoped Grian hadn’t run off after whatever had happened yesterday. Something odd is up with that dragon. If only I could read minds and figure out exactly what’s going on.

…

The first thing Grian noticed as his dream began to fade was the warmth of the sun on his wings and back. The second was an odd scuffling sound that abruptly halted as he opened his groggy eyes. The third was four other dragons standing over him with wide eyes. Grian screamed, leaping to his feet and staggering backwards, wings flapping wildly as he attempted a wild escape.

Well we should have seen that coming. Pearl. As the other three stared regretfully, Scar burst out in a fit of laughter so strong, he knocked himself off his own feet and onto his back. 

“Oh-oh my- If only you could’ve seen your face!” Scar gasped, holding his chest. Grian could, in fact, see his face, plastered in Scar’s mind. Was.. was that paint? Ren couldn’t help but let out a little snort, and even BigB and Pearl were smiling.

“Sorry Grian. We didn’t mean to scare you. At least.. I didn’t..” Pearl said, looking sheepishly away, but her smile remained.

“Aw, but he’s being quite the pRoPeR gEnTlemAn about it!” Scar wheezed in an exaggerated accent that sounded uncannily like some of the Nightwatcher council. Ren couldn’t help himself from laughing now, and Grian once again saw a flash of his own face in Ren’s mind. Grian let his wings relax now, more confused than startled. He ran a talon across his face, and found it covered in blue paint.

“No! Not your monocle!” Ren bounded forward, grabbing Grian’s paint covered talon.

“My-my what?”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough of that, you two are gonna kill him at this rate.” BigB stepped forward with a wet rag, handing it to Grian. “You can wash your face with this, and we can get those two back later.” Grian’s mind whirled.

“Get.. them back?”

“Shh, we don’t want to discuss retaliation while Ren and Scar are right here!” BigB chuckled, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

“Oh, you can try!” Ren declared, launching himself at BigB and sending both of them rolling across the rock. Grian looked to Pearl, expecting her to be equally bewildered by their roughhousing, but instead, she let out a loud battle cry in BigB’s defense, jumping into the scuffle.

Grian found himself backpedaling towards Scar, who was watching with uncharacteristic tranquility. Grian settled, eyes wide.

“That’s a bit childish isn’t it?” he asked, quietly mesmerized. Scar gave him a warm look, similar to one of the ones his mother would give him when he was a dragonet. Before she permanently covered her eyes…

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” he stated, nodding a little to himself, “If adults aren’t allowed to have any fun, then I’m okay staying a dragonet.”

Grian blinked. He had forgotten these dragons were still so young, not just old dragons hiding in a dragonet’s body. It’s not like I’m treated like an older dragon anyway. Would he ever be allowed to grow up? He wiped his face as Pearl declared victory over Ren. However, after she turned her back, he leapt on her once more, leaving BigB to chase the two rolling dragons around.

As he set down the rag, he noticed a little picnic blanket set out across part of the rock. It was full of fruit from the rainforest as well as a couple prey items from the Prey Hall.

“Did.. did you guys do this for me?” Emotion swelled in Grian’s stomach, spilling out in quick breaths.

“Oh- yeah! You missed a spot on your horns by the way,” Scar said, picking up the rag and pushing it to the spot with leftover paint. Grian took it from him, grateful. Scar continued as Grian wiped away the rest of the paint. “I figured you probably had a lot on your plate.. I mean if I were in your position I think I’d be pretty overwhelmed..We just wanted to let you know we’re here for you! Oh- and I talked to the Headmaster and told him about your sleeping thing- and he totally understood! There’ll be an extra pad on the ground during Sun Time if you want to join the Rainwings while you adjust to your new sleep schedule.”

Grian could have cried. In fact, he might have if it wasn’t for one thing. He jumped to his feet, panic pulsing through his muscles. “Class- did I miss class??” He looked to the sun, which was high in the sky by now. He felt a talon against his leg.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Pearl got that sorted out for you, just lay down.”

“But-“

“Grian. It’s taken care of.” The firmness in his voice reminded Grian of a command. He laid back down, almost automatically, but his heart still raced. Scar removed his hand from his forearm, and reached for a piece of fruit.

“Just enjoy the show,” Scar murmured, peeling the banana he grabbed as Pearl, BigB, and Ren tussled.

Now… that’s an idea..

Grian whipped around, heart racing faster. Was that a Nightwatcher? There was something distinctly malicious about that thought that sent his mind spiraling. What were they saying? Are they angry I’m talking with a Rainwing? He couldn’t hear anything else, but that didn’t mean no one was there. Some Nightwatchers were particularly talented at shielding their thoughts from mind readers. They wouldn’t hurt my winglet would they? 

“Whoa- Hey- are you okay?” Scar was looking at him with intense alarm, and Grian realized his talons were shaking. Even the other three dragons had stopped fighting, looking at him with various levels of concern. Grian folded his shaking limbs underneath himself and tucked his wings close. 

“Grian?” Scar again. He must not have responded. Scar began scanning the rock behind them, looking for what had scared him.

“Sorry,” was all he could manage, eyes glued to the ground. His ears were still pricked, searching for any other crumb of information. Anything at all to alleviate this fear. The silence was deafening. He felt Scar scoot in beside him, leaning in a gesture of comfort.

Only then, Grian was sure he heard a dragon behind him breathe in. Strong. Deep. Purposeful. He shivered. Please don’t. He whimpered, a silent plea to whoever was there, drinking him in. Grian felt an aura of deep satisfaction on his back, and maybe even the breeze of a dragon taking off. He felt nauseous.

Please don’t take this away from me.

#hermitdragons au #third life #third life au #last life #double life #limited life #grian #gtwscar #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #rendog #bigbst4tz2

[greycappedjester]

Preview Bonanza

Hey, guys, here both as an update and since I just got an ask for a preview of Hq at Hogwarts (which I'm now using as an excuse to give one for all, lol), here's snippets from all my current ongoing projects. Some of them I know have had a lot longer waits than I anticipated so hopefully this is reassuring that the updates ARE acutally coming and (with all hope) comparatively soon. As always, all of the scenes may be changed slightly when I'm editing

(None of these are in any particular order other than fandom)

--------------

1.) Keiji Akaashi and the Department of Mysteries

Ch. 9

Post Date: Oct. 1-3

“I’m not my family.” It was all Suga could say.

“That’s not--,” Hinata stopped, cutting himself off with a sigh. 

He closed his eyes, shaking his head once before opening them again.

“Nevermind. You don’t get it.” He turned in the direction Oikawa went. “And I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

Suga watched him go and felt like his feet were rooted to the floor.

-------

2.) Weirdness With Witches

Ch. 3/the final chapter

Post Date: ASAP, this one is almost done, I'm just currently in the middle of traveling for best friend's wedding and trying to find time to finish and post it. Expect it within the next few days depending on when I have free time

Iwaizumi tried the handle. “It’s locked.”

Suga hummed, bending down to study the trail closer. “If we’re continuing monster hunting, one of us should really learn how to pick locks.”

“Oh! I’ll do it!” Bokuto volunteered.

“Yeah, I really don’t think we’ll run into monster hunting a third time…or further contribute to our crime skills.” Iwaizumi looked down at Suga. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Suga admitted, inspecting the white powder on his fingers.

“Lick it and find out!” Bokuto shouted.

“Do not lick it.” Iwaizumi glared. “What if it is drugs?”

“I wasn’t going to lick it,” Suga grumbled, sounding very much like someone who had been at least considering licking it.

-------

3.) Call Me Your Home At Night

“I think my brother’s trying to kill me,” Atsumu said, face dead serious over the video call. 

Hinata nodded sagely. “Yeah, siblings are like that.” 

“Really?” Atsumu perked up. “Yours, too?”

Hinata considered.

“....No, actually Natsu loves me.” Hinata felt a teeny tiny bit of sympathy watching Atsumu groan; but not enough to stop from adding. “She convinced her school to start their very own volleyball team! Isn’t that amazing? Ugh, she’s going to be so great once she starts high school!” 

Hinata wasn’t saying that this officially replaced baby Natsu babbling a barely recognizable version of his name as her first word for Top Best Natsu-Related Moment...but, it did. And it should.

-------

4.) After the Fall of Olympus

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Sorry, I only take credit," Dick mumbles on automatic.

Donna shoves him. “Seriously, Dick, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

He sips at his beer, frowning when he finds it’s gone flat and stale.

“A lot of things,” he answers finally. “The team, I’ve been thinking about the team a lot. And Jason, of course. Alfred, Tim, Barbara. Lian. Mera and Artur. And...and my parents. Wally….Bruce. Like I said, a lot of things. Probably too many.”

And fire and the smell of burnt hair. Of bullet casings laying in the sun. Of a bitter taste in champagne and hands with whispers and--

And a single gunshot.

The stale beer does nothing to wash away the taste. He tries anyway.

-------

5.) Flash Facts of Bart Allen

“Really,” Len drawls skeptically, “and you’re just trusting a bunch of criminals to take care of one of your own?”

“Well,” Nightwing pauses, considering, “someone I respected told me once that the only way any of us could truly take steps forward was to find a way to move together. So, consider it a sign of trust or maybe change, whichever you’d prefer to take it as.”

Len scoffs. “Some hero told you that, didn’t they?”

“How’d you guess?”

“Because it’s naive and hopefully optimistic.” 

Nightwing laughs. “Yeah, I guess he was.” He tilts his head. “But, Barry was also a good judge of character. His grandson is too. So, I’ve got some pretty good recommendations to go off.”

Len narrows his eyes. 

Of course, it had to be him.

“Besides,” Nightwing continues, “from what I hear Bart’s one of yours, too.”

-------

6.) In Spite of Ourselves

“Easy, huh,” Senkuu said.

“I prefer working smarter, not harder.”

“You prefer not to work at all.”

“That, too,” Gen agreed cheerfully, slinking forward to lean against Senkuu. “But, I’m pretty sure when you say it, it’s slander. I could sue, you know?”

Senkuu smirked, leaning against him, too. “Technically, I’m pretty sure as village chief, I’ve got judicial power, too, so good luck with that.”

“Mmm,” Gen shook his head sadly, “absolute power really does corrupt absolutely. So quick!”

-------

7.) The Past is a Mirror

“You worry too much,” Ye Qiu assures breezily. “I’m sure I can handle some rookie training. Officer Bao, throw me a spear, won’t you?”

Han Wenqing steps forward. “Wait--”

“Sure thing, Boss!” Bao Rongxing calls right before he throws a fully sharpened training spear directly into the man’s hands--sorry, directly into their officially recognized with a high risk of escape and who absolutely should not be armed captive’s hands.

Ye Qiu catches it easily and Han Wenqing sighs, a second away from just throwing his hands up.

Fine. Apparently this is happening. Why the fuck not?

#hq at hogwarts #cmyhan #investigations inc #tpiam #dcst #atfo

[fancyfade]

My fatal flaw is that I hear people complaining about comics and immediately develop very strong opinions

#I'm just like my brother 😭😭 #Though I guess if I was I would try to argue with the people who read those comics whereas I just have opinions in my head ask #Atm #Anyway the nightwing run sounds not great #Idk #Personal #Dc comics

[camsthisky]

"you’re not alone . you’re stuck with me forever . sorry . ” + Jason and Dick (and anyone other family member)?

“Everyone okay?” Dick croaks as the dust and rubble settles around them. He’s lying on his back, kept still by something pinning his legs down. He doesn’t dare assess himself quite yet. “Hood? Batgirl?”

“Okay,” Cass says, and Dick watches as she stumbles over to him, looking dusty, but relatively alright. She kneels next to him with a frown. She meets his eyes—well, relatively since they’re both wearing masks—and asks, “Okay?”

Dick grimaces. “Not really.” Louder, he calls, “Red Hood?!”

“Here, here,” Jason says, coughing into his fist. He’s missing his helmet and there’s a gash sluggishly bleeding from his right cheek, smearing a trail of blood down his face. He’s also limping, but only slightly.

“Can you move?” Cass asks Dick as Jason pulls out his flashlight.

Dick winces at the sudden light, his mask having already automatically switched to night vision. He huffs. “Jay. Off.”

“Names.”

Dick scowls. “The light.”

“Deal with it,” Jason snaps. “My night vision isn’t working.”

Dick turns off his own night vision feature, if only to not be blinded by the damn flashlight if it passes over his eyes again.

That’s when Jason’s flashlight lands on where Dick is pinned.

“Crap,” Jason breathes.

“Can you move them?” Cass asks, sounding a touch more impatient, and Dick realizes that Cass has already asked once. “Your legs.”

“No,” says Dick, just barely trying. He’s tired, but he knows that time is up. He can’t get away with ignoring his own situation any longer. Probably shouldn’t have even waited this long. His legs are tingling from lack of blood flow, mixing with a sharp pain shooting through them both. Still he’s lucky, because—“I can still feel them, though.”

“We’ll lift,” Jason says to Cass, who nods. Dick closes his eyes and braces himself for the inevitable pain of rubble being lifted off his crushed legs.

“Hhh.”

The sounds he makes is nothing more than an agonized hissed through his teeth, and Dick can’t help the cold sweat that sweeps across his body in a slow wave as his siblings manage to move the slab of—wall, maybe? who knows, really—from where it’s crushing his poor legs.

Something taps against his shinbone and then his kneecap.

“Stop, stop, I feel it,” Dick gasps, bringing his legs up in a protective curl as pain throbs through most of his lower body. His left hip hurts like hell, and his every muscle, bone, and tendon feels like they’ve been squeezed and then flattened like a pancake. He rolls over onto his side so he can bring his knees up to his chest, to wait out the lingering intensity of the pain.

“Breathe,” Cass says.

Dick breathes.

He closes his eyes and blocks out everything and, again, just breathes. His siblings let him.

When he has a better grasp on his agony, Dick finally relaxes. The world filters back in. Cass is running fingers through Dick’s dusty hair (something she one hundred percent learned from Bruce, because only a select few know how much the motion tends to calm him down).

On the other hand, Dick blinks his eyes open to find Jason agitatedly pacing.

“The hell?” Jason murmurs, his flashlight whipping back and forth with his movements as he surveys their surroundings. “Did we get completely sealed in?”

Dick wishes desperately he would stop. Even without night vision, Jason’s impromptu strobe light effect is causing Dick’s head to ache. Instead of saying this, he hums contemplatively. “Wonder if there’s a signal this far down.”

Jason huffs, not slowing in the least. He’s searching for something, and dear god does Dick want him to find it already. “You’re the one with the comms in your ear. You try it.”

They’re in the sewers, is the thing. And while Bruce and Babs have designed the comms system to work incredibly well, even in the sewers, the signal still needs to be able to make it to the system in order to be functional.

With the three of them sealed in this place, seemingly with no way out, pretty deep in the sewer system where they had been disabling bombs throughout the city, Dick isn’t optimistic about their chances of getting a signal.

(They’d just been a few seconds too late for that last bomb, which unfortunately led them to their current circumstances.)

While Jason grumbles, Cass activates her emergency signal and the comms. She calls out, “Batman? Oracle?”

Jason shuts up for the five seconds before Cass looks between both Dick and Jason and shakes her head.

Dick lets out a slow exhale through his nose. He hadn’t really held out much hope for that anyways.

Jason groans. “Holy batcannoli, I can’t believe we’re stuck down here. And where’s my hecking helmet?!”

Cass helpfully points to the rubble sealing them in. Jason kicks a rock with a yell. Dick sighs.

“Well, at least you’re not alone down here,” Dick says as optimistically as he can—although, given the circumstances, it does fall a little flat.

Jason snorts. “Right. Sure, Batgirl is an asset, but you’re a sack of bruised bones right now. That’s not helpful in the slightest, Dickface.”

Dick’s eyelashes flutter of their own accord. He hums. “Too bad. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Sorry.”

“Dick,” Cass says, her fingers tracing lightly over his face. “Stay awake.”

“I am awake.”

“You’re starting to—” Cass pauses. Dick can’t see the look on her face, because somehow, his eyes have fully closed without his permission, and he can’t seem to find the strength to open them again. “—to slur.”

The sounds of Jason’s pacing stop. Silence rings loud in their sealed section of the sewers. Then, “Did he hit his head?”

“Not sure,” Cass answers.

“Dick,” Jason says, sounding quite a bit closer, like he’s maybe crouching down next to Cass or something—but Dick hadn’t heard him move, and Jason’s boots are too clunky to not make sound against the concrete. “Dick, did you hit your head?”

Dick’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t remember hitting his head. The only thing he clearly remembers about the blast is heavy pieces of rubble crushing his legs. “Maybe?”

“Great,” Jason says. He’s pulling out his I’m-rolling-my-eyes-at-your-ridiculous-incompetency voice. “So my bruised bones of a big brother probably also has a concussion. Just great.”

“It’s not his fault he’s injured,” Cass tells Jason. “He was disarming the bomb.”

Which means Dick took the brunt of the blast when it was remotely activated.

Dick really means to tack onto Cass’s statement, maybe tease Jason a little and try to reassure both his younger siblings that not everything is hopeless, because he’s the best big brother ever, of course.

Only, he can’t find the strength to open his mouth and talk. Instead, the voices around him become watery, distorted, and Dick’s head flares in pain.

When unconsciousness comes to take him, he doesn’t resist.

—

“—manage to even find us in the first place?” is the first thing Dick hears as he swims back to consciousness. Jason almost sounds relieved.

“The seismic device didn’t just affect the sewers,” someone replies. It takes a lot of effort for Dick to recognize it as Tim. “A couple buildings partially collapsed, and since we knew the three of you were down here, it was a good starting point to look when none of you would answer the comms.”

“Huh,” is all Jason says.

“Nightwing,” Bruce says, startling Dick from the dazed lull he’d been in as he listened to his brothers talking. He opens his eyes, blinking up bewilderingly at what he can see of Bruce’s face behind the cowl.

“B?” Dick murmurs. He doesn’t move, yet, from where’s curled on his side, but he feels an abortive twitch of his fingers at the reassuring sight of Batman. “‘S goin’ on?”

“What do you remember?”

Right. Bruce did not give easy answers. Life is a series of puzzles, Dick Grayson, fueled by none other than Bruce Wayne himself.

Dick frowns and casts his mind back. “The wall blew up,” he decides. “I got hurt?”

He’s only half sure about that last one, but considering his position on the ground, the throbbing in his head and hip, and Bruce’s concerned dad frown that’s taking over his Batman grimace, Dick thinks that he’s probably on the right track.

“Concussion,” Cass says, startling Dick when she pops her head over Bruce’s shoulder. “Also, ‘a sack of bruised bones.’”

That—sounds familiar. He thinks he remembers Jason saying something like that.

Bruce’s frown gets deeper. “Straighten your legs.”

“Please,” Dick tacks on for Bruce when he lacks the manners to be nice, basically on instinct at this point, even as he—slowly, and with a great deal of agony—does what Bruce tells him to do.

They go through a couple more tests, until finally Bruce, unhappy, deems, “We need to move you.”

Dick blinks when Bruce turns away to murmur something to one of the others. A conversation washes over him, and Dick can’t help but let himself tune it out. The noise settles as vague humming—indistinct and comforting.

“—two, three,” Bruce says as Dick’s entire vision goes white.

He only manages to come back to himself in increments.

There are arms holding him tight. Familiar murmurs in his ear. The comforting sound of Batman’s heavy cape brushing against concrete.

“—there, Chum,” Bruce is saying, and if Dick had the capability, he would have teased Bruce for pulling out both the concerned dad frown and the concerned dad voice in one night.

As it is, the only thing that comes out of his mouth when he opens it are harsh pants for air. Every step jostles him, and agony is his constant companion throughout the entire journey to the surface.

Somehow, Dick is still conscious when he’s laid down in the backseat of the batmobile. He’s grateful he’s not moving anymore, and carefully doesn’t think of the upcoming ride back to the Cave.

He only really starts to relax when Bruce settles the cape over him. Wrapped up inside it, Dick almost feels like he’s ten years old again. Batman’s has always felt like warmth and protection and home. This time is no different.

“Batgirl and Robin, keep Nightwing as still as possible. Red Hood, in the front. Start updating Oracle.”

“Why do they—”

“You’re too bulky, Hood. Me and Batgirl are smaller than you. It’s still going to be a tight fit, but it’s the most comfortable for everyone this way.”

“Whatever.”

“Enough. Car. Now.”

There’s lots of careful but hurried scrambling. Dick thinks he passes out a few times on the way back. He doesn’t remember much, either. Just bits and snatches here and there—His siblings talking to him, Bruce giving orders, Jason being snappy and unwittingly dragging Tim into an argument.

And then—he wakes up. A lot more clear-headed than he’d felt the last time he’d been conscious (though, that wasn’t saying much).

To Dick’s surprise, he’s on his side again, dressed in sweats with a pillow between his legs. He opens his eyes to the Wayne Manor living room, and—yes, he’s on the couch. The curtains are drawn, but it’s clearly sometime past sunrise.

Bruce is sitting cross-legged in front of him, reading a book.

“Bruce?” Dick calls, his voice still somewhat slurred. “Why’m I on the couch?”

“You started crying when I said you had to stay in the infirmary,” Bruce tells him, grabbing a bookmark and setting his book off to the side.

Dick frowns. He doesn’t remember that. Still, he manages to say, “You’re such a pushover.”

“How do you feel?”

Dick blinks a dozen times in a row, trying to assess his body and keep up with the change in subject. “Kinda woozy. My hip hurts a lot.”

“Hn.”

“Think I need to brush up on my Bat speak,” Dick murmurs. “Dunno what that one meant.”

Bruce hums again. “You’re incredibly lucky. We’ll need to be careful for the next few weeks.”

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?”

“Crush injuries to your legs and left hip. Not overly severe, and we managed to stabilize you once we realized you were in shock.”

Dick thinks about that for a second. “Concussion? I’m pretty sure I remember something about a concussion.”

“It’s mild,” Bruce tells him. “It was the shock that was the real problem.”

“Oh.” Dick sighs into the pillow under his head. “I’m tired.”

Bruce gives him a soft smile, just slight enough that if Dick hadn’t been so familiar with Bruce’s microexpressions, he would have thought he’d been mistaken. Fingers lightly card through his hair, and Dick’s eyes start closing of their own accord.

“Then sleep,” Bruce says.

Dick sleeps.

#dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #batclan #dc #camryn writes #brambleberrycottage #thank you for the prompt and your wonderful support!!!!

[mochegato]

Truth Be Told

This night was not turning out how she had thought it would turn out… Actually, up until a few minutes ago, it wasn’t much different from how she thought it would go.  She hadn’t been holding out much hope for the guy Rose had set her up with.  They did not have similar vetting styles or criteria.  So despite Rose’s most heartfelt hopes, the date with an overly sugary prick, oozing with fake charm and inauthentic compliments, was a complete flop and yet completely expected. 

While that man was annoying, he was not the cause of her current frustration.  No the current frustration was the man that had attempted to grab her as she walked home, her stilettos in her hand, because truthfully, she’d rather risk the dirty sidewalks of Gotham than the pain and blisters wearing those for another twelve blocks would cause.

She’d kept an eye on the man for the last block as he followed her, getting slowly closer and closer in a vain attempt not to alert her.  Joke was on him, she was always on alert.  But she wasn’t positive he was actually a threat.  Lots of people in Gotham were creepy, it didn’t mean they were a threat. 

When he finally grabbed her arm, she twisted immediately hitting him in the face with one of the stilettos.  He screamed in pain, bringing his hand up to his face.  She took advantage of his momentarily distraction to run.  She was confident in her fighting abilities, but there was always a chance for him to get a lucky hit in and a fight avoided if possible was safer than a fight engaged… or something like that.

He took advantage of his greater size and lunged at her before she could get out of his range.  He jerked her back with such strength and force, she couldn’t stop him or brace herself.  She fell as he pulled, dropping her shoes as she did.  He angrily swung for her head as she laid on the ground.  She rolled out of the way just in time and heard the crunch as his fist connected with the concrete.

She took a breath and stood up, moving behind him to punch him hard in his kidney.  He crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath.  She took advantage of his position to knee him in the face, breaking his nose.  He groaned in pain and cradled his nose.  Marinette paused for just a second to take a breath before running again.  The ogre moved quicker than she had expected and grabbed her arm with his good hand, yanking her to him.  She used the momentum to drive her palm into his chin.  He staggered back a few steps, giving her enough room to kick him in the chest.  He fell back against the building next to them, hitting his head on the bricks with a sickening smack and slid down the wall, crumpling into a pile at the bottom.

Marinette edged closer to him to see if he was still alive, tensing as she got closer, ready to bolt if he so much as twitched.  She breathed a sigh of relief feeling a strong pulse and let herself relax for a moment.  Her whole body immediately tensed again as she heard a sound of something dropping behind her.  She slowly turned around to see a figure with a red bat across his broad chest a few feet away from her.  Her body relaxed minutely at the sight.  He was one of the bats.  One of the more violent ones, if she remembered correctly, but only against people who hurt kids.

She watched nervously as Red Hood sauntered slowly up to her.  He stopped a few feet away from her, looming threateningly over her.  He stared at her silently for a few moments, or at least she assumed that’s what he was doing.  It was rather hard to make out where exactly he was looking with his mask on.  She just barely stopped herself from jumping when he lifted his hand out to her, holding her shoes.  She looked at them dumbly for a few seconds before finally taking them with a quiet “Thanks.”

He didn’t react, or maybe he did, she just couldn’t see it under the mask, which was doing nothing to calm her.  Finally after she’d gotten her shoes back on he decided to break the silent, looming, threatening presence aura.  “That was amazing,” he gushed out.

Her eyes widened at the comment and snapped up to the mask’s eyes.  Of all the things she had been anticipating, that was not one of them.  “Uh… Thanks,” she answered uncertainly.  She studied him for a moment and realized he hadn’t been sauntering earlier, he had been staggering and now he was swaying as he stood turned.  “Are you… um… are you okay?  You’re kind of…” she motioned to his body.

Red Hood tore his eyes away from her eyes, with great force of will to examine his body for what she meant.  He stumbled as he tried to check himself for injuries.  He was fine.  He hadn’t even been involved in this fight and Scarecrow’s goons hadn’t landed almost any of their hits.  He was perfectly fine.  He looked back up to meet her eyes again and cocked his head to the side for a moment.  Her eyes were blue but he couldn’t quite tell the shade with his mask on.  The filters in the mask were making them appear slightly different than they really were and he needed to see her eyes properly.

Marinette failed to stop herself from jumping slightly when his hands moved lightning quick to remove his helmet to see her better.  Marinette gasped at his freshly exposed face.  “Should you be doing th…”

“Wow… you’re fucking hot,” he grinned.  He had definitely made the right decision removing the helmet.  He could see her much better without it. He could now make out the rosy hue on her cheeks at his comment and the exact bluebell shade of her eyes.  He had been right.  She was even more gorgeous without the filter.

“Um… thanks,” she gave him a nervous smile.  What the fuck was happening right now?  “So are you.”

“I am,” he nodded in agreement.  “But you’re hotter.  I’m Jason.”  He reached his hand out to shake hers.

Marinette drew in a breath and clenched her lips closed.  Her eyes turned concerned.  “Oh, you definitely shouldn’t be doing that,” she tried to lightly chastise him, but he was looking at her with such an earnest, hopeful expression she couldn’t help but smile at him and take his hand.  “Hi.”

“Hi,” Jason… should she call him Jason or Red Hood.  She really shouldn’t know his name… but she did so… Jason said again breathlessly.

“Hi,” Nightwing added loudly from behind Jason, breaking their moment.  Marinette yanked her hand back and looked back and forth between the two.

Jason groaned loudly and shook his head.  He looked up to the sky for a moment, but quickly returned his focus to Marinette.  “Oh fuck off, Dickhead.  I’m working here.”

“So the body is yours?” Nightwing prodded.

“No,” Jason grinned proudly at her.  “It’s hers.”

Marinette gave Jason a panicked look before switching to look at Nightwing again.  “He attacked me and I stopped him.  He’s still alive.  I checked.”

“Yes you did,” Jason confirmed delightedly.

Nighwing tapped his ear piece and knelt next to the body, examining it.  “Oracle, can you send police to my location, please?  We have an unconscious body.  Looks like he’ll need a medic too.”  He nodded at whatever was said in his earpiece and took a beat to collect himself before walking up to them slowly, watching them analytically as if trying to assess the situation.  “You okay, ma’am?”  He asked with a guarded tone.  Marinette looked over to Jason who rolled his eyes at her and looked away in annoyance at Nightwing’s interruption.  Marinette looked back to Nightwing and nodded slowly.

“Glad to hear it.  Sorry about Hood,” he grinned charmingly at Marinette in a manner she was sure was supposed to lull her into a sense of calm and trust, but after an entire dinner of smarmy smiles, Nightwing’s grated on her instead.  Jason’s earnest smile however… that was something else. 

Despite Jason’s previous insult, Nighwing continued walking closer until he was close enough to throw his arm over Jason’s shoulder.  “Scarecrow had a particularly potent drug and Red Hood got hit with it a few times.  So Hood could have been saying absolutely any crazy thing.  I’m honestly surprised he can even walk right now.”

Marinette caught on quickly.  This was Nightwing’s way of mediating potential security breaches, in case Jason had done anything that could compromise his and their identities, like removing his helmet and telling her his name.  Marinette could sympathize with the attempt after her years of trying to manage the miraculous identities secret, but he’d come with his fake smile and fake concern and she was done with fake people today.  So, mess with him it was.  “So I shouldn’t have taken him saying I was cute seriously?” she asked innocently.

Nightwing paused for just a second.  If Marinette hadn’t been watching, she would have missed it.  “No!  No,” he stuttered.  “I mean, it doesn’t STOP him from saying true things.  And that certainly is true.  It just…”

Jason finally tore his intense gaze away from Marinette to whirl on Dick and shove him away, which was actually quite lucky for Jason, as the shoving motion is the only thing that countered his momentum and kept him from falling.  “Stop hitting on the woman I’m hitting on,” he hissed at Nightwing.  Nightwing gasped at seeing Jason’s naked face, not even a domino mask to hide his identity.

Jason twirled back toward her, but overcorrected and turned past her.  He had to slowly turn back until he faced her and pointed his finger at her accusatorily.  “And I didn’t say you were cute.  I said you were fucking hot and you are.” He smiled proudly at his statement.

Marinette giggled both at Jason’s bluntness and the horror on Nightwing’s face.  She raised her hands in surrender, letting Jason take the win.  He nodded smugly at her acquiescence. 

“Okay Romeo, let’s get you home,” Nightwing said, clapping Jason on the back and not so subtly pushing him past Marinette and down the sidewalk, or at least attempting to. 

Jason swayed back toward Marinette, raising his arm to balance himself just high enough that it landed perfectly on Nightwing’s shoulder in a way that would have been considered smooth if it had been in anyway intentional rather than sheer dumb luck.  “Dickweed, if you stop me from getting her number I’m going to fill all of your uniforms with itching powder,” Jason growled threateningly.  He leaned in closer to Nightwing until their faces were a few inches apart.  “ALL OF THEM.  If she’s willing to give me her number, I’m going to take it.”

“And what good would her number do Red Hood?” Nightwing gritted out pointedly.

Jason blinked and pulled his head back clumsily.  “Don’t know.  But it’ll do Jason Todd a lot of fucking good.”  He smiled roguishly at Marinette.  “And if I’m extremely lucky, maybe eventually, some good fucking too.” 

Marinette sputtered at him completely exposing his identity and his honest admission of his intentions, her mouth dropped.  Nightwing groaned.

Jason moved closer to her, trying to keep his steps measured and graceful.  It didn’t really work, but it reduced the stumbling.  “I never did catch your name, Helen might come close but couldn’t match.”

She blinked a few times to catch up with the rapid change in tone and quirked her head to the side.  “Helen?”

He nodded slowly at her, his eyes still focused solely on her.  “Of Troy.  Face that launched a thousand ships.  Surely yours could launch a million.”  His voice was reverent and his smile had softened becoming affectionate rather than roguish.

“Oh my God," she giggled, an incredulous smile settling on her face.  "Is he like this when sober?”

“Not with me,” Nightwing said rolling his eyes, or at least she thought that’s what he was doing under the domino mask.  His entire head rolled as he did it.  “But he is usually pretty blunt,” he acknowledged.  “But with the serum added in…”  He trailed off, letting her fill in the gaps.  Nightwing looked back over at Marinette appraisingly.  “Look…”

“Marinette,” she supplied.

“Marinette…” Jason repeated.  He let the name linger on his tongue.  “That’s a beautiful name.  Epic poems could be written about that name and that smile.”

Her cheeks reddened and she had to look away from the intensity of Jason’s stare.  She shook her head and coughed to try to calm her heart.  She raised an eyebrow at Nightwing.  “So I take it that it was a truth serum?”  The deep sigh Nightwing let out was confirmation enough for Marinette.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that you are sexy as fuck,” Jason interrupted her.

Marinette, whose mouth had been open to continue her thought, snapped it shut with an audible clap and turned bright red.

Nightwing choked and tried to cough to cover it.  “Jesus, Jason.  Take it down a notch or ten.”

Jason shrugged at him, smiling proudly at Marinette’s expression.  “Equal and opposite flirting rule.”

“Excuse me?” Marinette interrupted.  Because that sounded like he was flirting to the same level she was and she had definitely NOT been flirting at that level or at all.  Damn, she needed to up her flirting game.  She opened her mouth to say something but snapped it shut quickly.  Now was not the time.  He was drugged out of his mind.  She was not going to hit on someone who was buzzed beyond belief.

“The level of flirting exhibited shall match the level of awesomeness of the subject of the flirting,” Jason explained calmly, still smiling his soft smile at her.  And honestly, if he kept that up, she was going to rescind her stance on flirting back at him.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds “Uhhh,” she started, internally groaning at her very intelligent response.  Eloquent conversation?  Nailed it.  Very deserving of the ‘awesome’ title.

She blinked a few times and turned to Nightwing.  “I understand the value of a secret identity.  I assume you won’t take my word on it, but perhaps you could take a fellow hero’s word?”  Nightwing raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her.  “You’re part of the Justice League, right?  You can check with Ladybug.  She’ll vouch for me.”

“Ooohhh,” Jason suddenly let out, moving in between her and Nightwing.  “Ladybug!  She’s fucking hot too and so amazing.  Almost as much as you.  You fight like that without a magic suit to help.  That’s so impressive.”  Marinette could feel her cheeks grow even redder.  If this kept up, her face was going to be as red as her mask, and there would be no hiding her identity.  “You’re friends with her?” Jason continued, oblivious to her inner turmoil.  “Batman won’t let me meet her.  Are all your friends as hot and amazing as you?” 

“I’ll check with her the next time I see her,” Nightwing confirmed over Jason, putting his arm around his waist again to guide him down the street.

Marinette nodded at him.  “It was nice meeting you two.”

“Wait,” Jason lunged out of Nightwing’s arm toward her, nearly knocking her down.  “I didn’t get your number.”

Marinette looked to Nightwing.  “Uh… I don’t think your… teammate wants me to do that.”

“Ignore that happiness killing asshole.  Dick has always been like that.  Besides, we’ll need your number to keep an eye on you, right?  I volunteer,” he grinned brightly.

Marinette opened her mouth and shut it again.  She determinedly refused to look at Nightwing, Dick apparently, and focused on Jason, fixing him with a pointed stare.  “If I give you my number, will you stop giving me personal secrets?  Yours and your other partners’?”

“My brothers?”  Marinette’s eyes snapped to Nightwing’s this time.

Nightwing slapped himself on the forehead.  “Little Wing…” he groaned.

“Yes your brothers’.  And go home and sleep this off?” she continued.

“Yes I will.  Although I’d sleep better if I knew you were there too, watching over me,” he added earnestly.

“No, you wouldn’t.”  She pulled out a sheet of paper to write it on but he shoved his phone in her hands instead. 

“Just put it directly in here,” he offered instead.

She closed her eyes and sighed.  She looked over to Nightwing for guidance, but he shrugged at her, defeat clear in his slumped shoulders.

“I definitely would,” he countered her.  He turned toward Nightwing.  “You should have seen her take out that thug when he tried to grab her.  She was amazing,” he sighed out dreamily.  “She knocked his ass out.  Hey!” he perked up as if suddenly realizing something.  “She’s a knock out who knocked his ass out!”  He turned back toward her and leaned on Nightwing in a daze.  “I think I’m in love.”

“I am so sorry about him,” Nightwing looked at her pleadingly.

Marinette waved him off and put her name and number in Jason’s phone.  “Truthfully?  Significantly more honest, respectful, and romantic than the date I had tonight or in the past… while, so… Have him give me a call tomorrow if he still feels the same.”

“Oh I will,” Jason grinned at her, taking his phone back and laughing at the (Helen) she’d put next to her name.  “It was nice meeting you Marinette.  It was the highlight of my week.”

Marinette grinned and pushed up to kiss him on his cheek.  “Mine too.  Now put on your helmet before you out yourself to anyone else.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jason nodded.  He put his helmet on as she walked away, but rubbed the area of his helmet over his cheek where she had kissed him, a goofy smile on his face.  He would definitely call her in the morning.  He would make sure he remembered.  He wasn’t stupid enough to let someone like her get away.

Continued in Well, Well, Well, If It Isn’t the Consequences of My Actions

@boldlyanxious

#maribat #jasonette #meet cute #meet cute monday #this counts as meet cute right? #it's still monday here

[citrinesparkles]

cat.

jason todd, eventually x gender neutral reader. 1,388 words. notes: this is part one of i don't even know how many and i cannot believe how wildly out of hand this got. this was a 500 word idea and it's gonna be at least three parts someone help (thanks to @angelz-dust for being so patient with me and encouraging on this!!! would never have made it out of the drafts without you <3) warnings: danger to kids, mention of a couple arguing, animal illness (spoiler alert: it'll be fine i Promise), a little (lot) different than my usual edit: part two here!

"let me be perfectly clear: if you even think about showing back up here, i will know, and i will make your life a living hell until i finally put you out of your misery. understood?"

"yes! yeah man i get it. understood."

"then i'd get going, if i were you." the man scrambled to his feet and bolted off across the playground, leaving jason to shout after him. "and warn any buddies you might have, too!"

he picked up the discarded knife and pocketed it. he then turned around slowly, hands visibly empty in a careful attempt not to scare the two kids behind him- well, careful not to make it worse, anyway. they, understandably, seemed a little shaken already.

"are you both alright?" he asked softly, slouching just a little to seem as harmless as possible.

probably would have been easier if they hadn't just watched him threaten someone.

the older kid- probably fifteen, if jason had to place a bet- nodded silently before glancing back at the little girl he was still hovering in front of protectively, who was just... staring.

she couldn't have been older than six.

"jazz?" the boy asked, voice tight. "are you hurt?"

he was ignored. "are you superman?"

the question, innocent and earnest and a little timid, made jason laugh. "not quite, kiddo."

she tilted her head like a curious puppy, furrowing her brow. "why are you wearing a jacket?"

jason glanced up at the boy, who seemed comforted by her mini interrogation. good.

talking was a good sign, too, so jason crouched down to meet her at eye level.

"because it gets cold out here!" he said, raising his hands up with a small wiggle of his fingers. "gloves, too."

"well, duh," jazz said with a giggle- a win, jason thought. "no fingerprints."

he nodded. "also helpful."

"and the hat to hide your face!" she said proudly, stepping forward a little to point at his helmet.

"wow, you've got the whole thing figured out, huh?"

"mhm! my friend ricky loves batman and his friends. he talks about batman and nightwing and spoiler and robin and red robin and red hood and batgirl all the time! they hide their faces like you, ricky thinks it's because of bad guys."

"they're kinda cool, huh?"

"nightwing's my favorite," she said firmly, as though it was something she had considered at great length and was fully prepared to defend.

"not red hood?" jason smacked a hand to his chest in mock hurt, shifting back dramatically. "i'm crushed, truly."

"no, ricky says red hood used to be an alien, but then got bored and now he annoys batman for fun instead. that sounds mean."

...well, okay, maybe he did annoy the big guy for fun a little. "that's an interesting theory, all right."

"ricky's got all kinds of theories. he thinks batman's a robot-" jason snorted- "and that nightwing was like pinochle."

"you mean pinocchio," the boy corrected quietly. "pinochle's what gramma plays."

"pinocchio!" she exlaimed, with a "ch" sound in the middle that made jason smile. "a doll that got turned human. that's how he does all the flips and stuff, he's got magic."

"hm, ricky seems like an interesting guy," jason said thoughtfully, making a big show of rubbing the chin of his helmet. "what do y-"

he was cut off by a loud, insistent meow, and jazz gasping even louder before taking off to the bushes.

"w- hey, don't rush off like that!" he said, shooting up off the ground as the boy sighed.

"there's this cat that she's been taking care of," he explained quietly. "the thing's got attitude for days but i think it's sick or something. jasmine's been bringing it little bits of tuna and chicken, but it's not like we can get it to a vet."

jason hummed. "why do you think it's sick?"

"it's thin, with its eyes all watery and sunk."

"might just be malnourished," he muttered.

"she's been trying to find it a home, y'know."

there was a wink-wink-nudge-nudge quality to the kid's voice that did not go unnoticed.

on one hand, it was good to hear something other than fear from him, but on the other... "what part of the tactical armor makes you think i'm an option?"

"the part where you just stuck around to check on us instead of running after that guy."

okay. maybe the quiet thing hadn't been so bad. the cocky 'amateur psychologist' thing was a little grating.

"you the real red hood?" the kid asked suddenly, shaking jason from his internal grumbling.

"what do you think?"

"i think you just saved our lives, and i wanna know who i'm thanking."

jason turned to him with a flourish. "red hood, baby saver extraordinaire. at your service."

"baby- dude, i'm seventeen!"

okay, so he would have lost his bet. "noted. still a baby, trust me."

"what are you under there, twenty something? whatever, grandpa."

jason chuckled, turning back to watch jasmine pet a small cat under one of the yellow lights littering the park. "you did well, looking out for her with that guy. you got a name?"

he scoffed. "would've been better if i'd kicked him between the legs right when he opened his mouth, instead of letting him get started on the whole 'what're you kids doing out so late?' bit," he muttered darkly, pausing for a moment before answering. "my name's jordan."

"well, jordan, what are you guys doing out so late?"

"mom works nights, and the neighbors were fighting. it was loud enough to wake jazz up, and it wasn't the kind of thing she needed to hear. i figured a trip to see her cat would be less awful than hearing them call each other things i wouldn't even call my friends." the breeze picked up, rustling the trees and catching on jason's jacket. "and then the asshole with the knife decided to make a bad night worse."

"is jazz your sister?"

"yeah, she's a good kid," jordan said, fond and warm. "sorry about the whole ricky thing, though. he's obsessed with those vigilante conspiracy videos and tells her all about them at school."

"no, no, it's fine. i can't wait to tell wing about his new origin story, he'll love that."

jasmine suddenly came bounding back towards them, grabbing their hands and yanking them to follow her. "c'mon, you need to meet cat!"

"you call it cat?"

jordan bristled subtly. "is there a problem with that, red?"

"no, no, it's an appropriate name. just making sure." jason waved his spare hand at his head. "helmet makes me hear things sometimes."

jordan opened his mouth, but his sister plowed right over whatever he was going to say, pulling on jason's hand again. "cat, meet... what's your name?"

"red hood."

"you can't be red hood!" she whirled around, indignantly putting her hands on her hips. "there's already a red hood in gotham. besides, you're not even wearing a hood, so it doesn't fit anyway."

jason turned his head to jordan, who was smiling- a good sign, but probably a bad omen for whatever he was about to say. "she's right, man. it's not a hood."

"tough crowd," jason muttered. "uh... then you can call me, uh-"

"bucket!" jasmine suggested happily, tapping his helmet. "because this looks like a bucket."

if there was one thing vigilantism had taught him, it was that sometimes you actually do need to pick your battles. this...

this was not worth fighting.

"sure, fine, whatever. hi, cat, i'm red bucket." he turned away from the kids- both of whom looked entirely too happy about the whole 'bucket' thing, he thought- and crouched down to finally look at the cat.

it did look a little sick, actually.

it was gray, and thin, and-

and now it was headbutting his knee like it was trying to push him over.

"cat likes you!" jazz cheered.

"sure does," jordan said pointedly. "isn't that interesting?"

jason opened his mouth, but his snarky comment died in his throat when the cat settled down right in front of him and blinked slowly up at him with a sweet tilt to its head.

...shit.

just- shit.

he sighed, standing up and looking back to jordan and his stupid, entirely-too-pleased-with-himself grin. "so, jazz," jason grumbled reluctantly, "where does cat live?"

#citrine writes #i promise i have a plan #jason todd #dc #imagines #dc imagine #dc imagines #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #sigh.

[hintofelation99]

I've never really read comics because I read stupid fast and it usually takes longer to flip the page then to read it lol, plus I'm not a fan of how short each comic is, almost like you're reading a chapter of book. But I found out on my library app, Libby, they have comic volumes which is apparently where they have a large chunk of a series run in one book, and a surprisingly nice ereader format for comics. So I'm now planning on giving the 1998 Young Justice a try.

Anyways, I wasn't sure if people knew about Libby, and the fact they have comics. All you need is a U.S. library card and you can access any book your library has, or libraries if you have more then one library card like me. And if you don't have one, the Tulsa library in Oklahoma doesn't require verification of address if you apply online. Anyways, sorry for bothering you, I hope you have a great day! -♡♡♡

Thank you so much for this! This sounds like a genuinely wonderful resource. Personally I have a dc comic subscription that I use to read comics. But it would be nice to have access to stuff by other publishers, also for other ppl this would be nice bc not everyone can afford to get the DC subscription (or they won’t use it enough for the subscription to be worth getting, which is fine). Outside of access to comics and such, I honestly prefer to read comics digitally tbh.

Also if anyone does end up using this resource I’d still recommend occasionally stopping by your local comic book store to buy comics/get recommendations. I know that comic book stores can occasionally be intimidating or elitist, but honestly I’ve found most store s are pretty great. In my experience they’re run by a bunch by people who genuinely love the comic book industry and who want to show others that industry. They give great recommendations and can be a lot of fun to talk to. Also it’s nice to own a physical copy of your favorite comic.

That being said here are some of my comic recommendations (I’d love for others to reply or reblog this with their recommendations, or if your shy dms/anon asks with recommendations would be fun and I can make a longer post on recommendations):

Hawkeye 2012-2015

Written by Matt Fraction; illustrated by David Aja

23 issues

Published by Marvel

Middlewest

Written by Scottie Young; illustrated by Jorge Corona

Ongoing

Published by Image

Batman (2016- )

Written by Tom King; illustrated by Matt Wagner

#54-57

Published by DC

Note- I paused at 57 and haven’t really picked it back up (probably will soon as this post reminded me of it) so if there’s a better issue to end on let me know

Midnighter and Apollo 2016-2017

Written by Steve Orlando; illustrated by Fernando Blanco

6 issues

Published by DC

Constantine: The Hellblazer 2016-2017

Written by James Tynion; illustrated by Riley Rossmo

13 issues

Published by DC

Nightwing (1996- ) #26

Written by Chuck Dixon; illustrated by Scott McDaniel and Karl Story

#26

Published by DC

#comics #ask #mypost #hawkeye #middlewest #nightwing #Batman #midnighter #apollo and midnighter #apollo #Constantine #john constantine #hellblazer #DC #detective comics #marvel #image comics

[river-bottom-nightmare]

zatanna said the word anchor point, and that's where she lost dick. anchor points and multiversal constants and universal stability. galaxies shattering into pieces behind his eyelids before swirling together tighter and more whole, before dick would inevitably wake, the lights from that goddamn recurring dream still flashing in his mind.

constantine was looking at him with sympathy, pity. dick wanted to wipe that look off his face with bleach. with acid. he normally wouldn't consider fighting john constantine, since he's always been able to sense the sheer power bubbling under the man's drunken and sloppy exterior. though, apparently, that ability to sense was what could possibly give him the edge in the fight he was imagining, but would never happen.

there were only a few people in the room, but someone would rip him off the man. maybe clark, whose features were painted with worry and concern. that, and the lights from the galaxies outside the watchtower windows, the eternity of the galaxy covering the entire room in a gentle wash that dick had been able to ignore for all of his life, excluding the past couple of hours. maybe diana, who was starting to look at dick with a bit of fear. not of him, but for him, and for everybody else. dick couldn't blame her. she had more than enough experience with powerful men who made themselves god. the only difference was that dick would rather let himself burn up from the flame that was inside of him before becoming whatever they said he was.

it's not about becoming, raven whispered in his mind. her presence was gentle, familiar. it took a certain length of self control for dick not to latch onto her, about the length of rope needed to make a noose. you already are. there are no new powers or abilities or anything that will happen to you. you always were a nexus being, and you always will be. it's just a part of you.

"just a part of him." just a part of him? like how wally's slowly failing heart had just been a part of him? or how jason's pit-induced fits of rage were just a part of him? or how cass' assassin training she fell back on no matter how hard she tried to override it was just a part of her?

bruce hadn't said anything. actually, zatanna had stopped talking, not that dick had been fully listening in the first place, and everyone was lost in their own quiet thoughts. but bruce's silence had been the most stomach-churning, the most horrific.

dick knew bruce didn't like metas. knew it because of the sighs he used to make due to the league's foolishness back when dick was robin, running a hand through dick's ruffled hair and telling him he was so glad you're not like them, dick, they're exhausting. he knew it because of bruce's fury every time someone powerful fought in gotham and destroyed the city, rubble on the ground as they went off, completely unconcerned of the damage they left behind. he knew it because of the extensive files in the batcomputer detailing each league-affiliated and known meta's weakness, or how their strength could be flipped like a playing card, until dick was almost convinced being a meta made one weaker. (according to bruce, it did.)

bruce didn't like metas. and dick wasn't a meta, but no one knew what he was anyway. no one but the magic users, whose vague explanations told them they weren't really sure what he was either.

"you're connected to the universe, dick," zatanna sighed. "the multiverse comes together in you. and as much as i don't like it, we need you."

all eyes were on him. dick was looking at his feet, but he could still feel them. that was one of his new "powers," right? knowledge of the multiverse? a gross misuse and bitter accusation, dick knew. but he couldn't get the fear out of his mind, and fear left unchecked grew fuzzy with mold until it disintegrated into anger.

"you need me?" dick said hoarsely. "the multiverse, what, comes together in me? you do realize what utter bullshit that sounds like?"

"i know it don't seem all that good, but trust me," constantine said. "it's a thing. it's real. you are one."

"you said these people are supposed to be beings of power," dick argued back. "so why aren't you a nexus being? or raven? or fucking ra's al ghul. i'm sure as hell not a being of power. i'm human."

"i suppose that's exactly what makes you one," diana murmured. "i have met many powerful men in my life. i've found the ones that i respected the most were the ones that were most in touch with their humanity."

this was crazy. this was crazy. dick felt like the particles that came together to make him were blowing away in confusion until he was one big cloud of unrecognizable light, before he was scattered in every direction. how the hell was he supposed to be one of the things that kept the universe together when he couldn't even keep his own damn self together?

avoiding bruce wasn't working. dick just felt like he was about to fray at the edges. so, gathering up his courage, dick turned to face the man and quietly, in a voice more delicate than china, said, "b?"

batman didn't look at him. batman didn't even look up. but batman did speak.

"alternate universe superman. he called you the multiversal constant. the one thing he could depend on."

out of the corner of his eye, dick could see clark nodding a little.

bruce continued. "you named yourself after a mythological figure who was known as the catalyst of change. or the great rebuilder. and kryptonians we've met have said how well you embody the role."

"it's...it's just a name, bruce."

"you, of all people, know it's not," clark said.

"so what am i supposed to do, huh?" dick whirled around. "fight this battle zee's recruiting me for that's entirely above my skill level. become some sort of, what did you say, universal anchor? i don't know the first thing about this shit, and i don't know what it'll do to me!"

"you're scared," bruce said, always willing to cut right to the chase with everyone but himself.

dick didn't answer.

"raven, establish a mental link between me and nightwing."

raven nodded, then with a flutter of her hands, dick felt a presence inside his head. it scared him to realize how easily he accepted it, how easily he had always accepted it. he never understood how unusual that was until now.

of course i'm scared, dick whispered into the mind link. i've gone my entire life knowing exactly who i was, what i could do, what i strive to be. and in the span of one day, that's all gone.

then what do you plan to do about it? bruce asked.

he said it so simply, so easily. like discovering something this monumental about himself was just another tricky case or difficult puzzle to solve. dick would have an easier time plucking each and every star in the galaxy and making a mosiac out of them.

raven's hood was lowered, but dick could still feel her eyes on him. constantine's features were still dripping in pity, zee looked imploring. diana was looking at him with hesitating acceptance, bruce was unreadable as always.

but clark. clark was looking at him with steady eyes and and a kind smile. he looked knowing, quietly vindicated. it was as if he'd known there was something...off about dick. something two hopscotches and a backbend away from "special," but close enough. something that had led to clark giving dick a piece of his people's legacy, and trusting him to fulfill it to the best of his ability.

clark wasn't scared of him at all. but clark couldn't make up for bruce.

"will you help?" zatanna asked.

everything inside dick was itching to say yes. jumping at the chance to help his friends, aching to be useful. it was a response he'd carefully cultivated years ago, and pushing it down was an almost physical ache.

but the stardust behind his eyes wasn't so easily forgotten. the hook behind his navel that seemed to drag him into the fabric of a universe that dick couldn't comprehend still dug into him. the world was spinning and the stars were turning and the earth was tumbling over itself, all of them in an effort to stop their twisting and turning and to right themselves once and for all. but dick wasn't moving. dick was completely, utterly still.

"i don't know," he said.

Dick Grayson Anniversary Week ‘21, Day 6: Universal Constant

"i don't know," the author says, because she truly has no idea what the fuck she just wrote. i started imagining nexus dick grayson and this just spilled out onto the page. it makes absolutely no sense, but there are some nice sentences in there that i don't want to get rid of, so hopefully yall can somewhat make sense of this ramen soup of a fic.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @bikoncon @catxsnow @pricetagofficial @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @dickgraysonweek

#scribbles from the swamp #dickgraysonweek2021 #dick grayson #nightwing #nexus beings #nexus dick grayson #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson fic #nightwing headcanon #nightwing fic #nexus beings headcanon #nexus beings fic #nexus dick grayson headcanon #nexus dick grayson fic #dc #dc headcanon #dc fic

[miraculous-trinity-leo]

Whacky Gotham, Goofy New York, and Chaotic Paris.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Chapter 6: Evade The Bats, and Beat The Crows

•—–—–·†·–—–—•

The girls are in the old living room setting up clues (that are absolutely... useless) around Gotham. One being a picture Harley and Multimouse took earlier that day.

"They might think to look here after they realize the clues are fake." - Steph

"Then where else would they not think to look?" - Maria

"W.E, I can get you and Harley in without them knowing easily." - Barbara said with a confident smile.

"But they'll have to go incognito... especially you Harley, no offense, but your outfit stands out just a tad." - Steph

"Ehhh, none taken, I'm sure I can tink of somthin' else tuh wear." - Harley

"I can help with that, but I'll need some clothes and some sewing supplies." - Maria said already thinking of what she could make.

Cass gave a nod and headed out of the room, after a few minutes she came back with t-shirts, jackets, sweaters, shorts, jeans, etc. and droped the pile of clothes infront of the group. She then handed Maria a sewing set she got from Alfred.

"Thanks Cass. I'll get to work on making our costumes." - Maria

"Let me help yuh wit' dat hun." - Harley said as she picked up most of the clothes for Maria

"Thanks." Maria

•—–·Let's see the Chaos shall we·–—•

"You never told us she could use magic!" - Red Hood looking under the table

"I wonder if she can infuse magic with coffee..." - Red Robin said looking in the cabinets for the third time.

"Stop looking for coffee!" - Red Hood

"She could've hidden in here." - Red Robin said while crabbing a mug

"I haven't had enough sleep to deal with this." - Selina then walked over and flopped herself on the couch and proceeded to fall asleep on impact.

"Maria get your tiny self back here right now or else!" - Tony

"Or else what? She Knows MAGIC! What else does she know that you haven't told us?!" - Red Hood

"... I never told you becuase it's meant to be a secret!" - Tony

"Oh, so now you agree with keeping things a secret?" - Red Robin grabbing the coffee

"What else can she do Tony." - Batman

"Well... she's great with tech, can kick butt in a LOT of different ways, has magic, and if she wants to, she can find and know where everyone or anyone is, but I think she gets massive headaches from a wide search like that." - Tony

"Anything else?" - Batman

(Tony thinkng of all the tiny gods she has in jewelery, and that she keeps Paris/friends and family safe on a daily basis, and that she is the well known designer MDC...)"No..." - Tony

As ivy was listening to them talk, she continued to search her garden, until one of her plants had a message fo her.

"Hello Ms. Ivy, please don't help Batman and Iron Man find us, we promise we'll be careful." - Maria

"Where are you?" - Ivy asked whispering into the plant.

After a few minutes Ivy got a detailed plan that Maria, Harley and the girls came up with to evade The IronBat group (Maria thought that would be better than ManMan group 'But it's Bat MAN and Iron MAN, so it has tuh be The ManMan group.' was Harleys defence, but Maria won that one.) and Ivy agreed to help as best she could.

•—–· Over to the Miraculous gang ·–—•

Plagg is cackling like there's no tomorrow.

"Guys something must be wrong, Plagg won't stop cackling, he won't even touch the cheese I gave him!!!" - Adrien

"There's no time for that, we need to find out where the hell Maria is!!" - Chloé

"Hahahaha, Ti- heheh Tikk- pffhaaaaaaahaha!!!" - Plagg

"He's trying to form words!" Adrien cradling Plagg in his hands "What is it my friend? Don't do this, you're to young...*sniff * you're to beautiful!"

"Hehehehe Shhhh- hahaha, she- she- haha...heheh- I'm so p-hehe-Proud wahahaha " - Plagg

"Proud?! She?! Where?! Who, is it Maria?!" - Chloé

"Hhhhhhhhahhaaaaaaaaaa" - Plagg

"Oh God he's wheezing!" - Adrien

"Hey guys, Peter and I got the snacks, found out where Maria might- oh kwami." - Alix walking into the room to a zombie looking Chloé, a panicked Adrien and the Kwami of death/bad luck/chaos laughing himself to death.

"Has he finally lost it?" - Peter

"She has become a true cat! hahahahahaaaaa heheheheeeeeee." - Plagg

Everyone in the room but Plagg "Oh fu-"

•—–· Over to the Batfam ·–—•

So everyone is panicking because for the past hour none of them could find Multimouse. Robin is sitting on the couch next to a now fully awake Selina, Red Hood and Nightwing are once again feeding each other the worst possible situation she could be in, Tony may or may not be hyperventilating, Red Robin is drinking coffee, and Batman is as stoic as ever... well on the outside anyway, on the inside, it's a warzone. Ivy is drinking her tea, slightly worried, but also hiding a small smile.

"What if we ask Oracle to try and help us find her?" - Red Robin

"... Right... Yes, ok let's do that... Bats you do it, I need to sit down." - Tony

•—–· Back to the girls ·–—•

The girls moved everything to the Bat-cave so they could set the route they would take, then the Bat-Computer started ringing.

"Hide!" - Steph

"Where, dere's nuttin' tuh hide behind!" - Harley

"Quick under the Bat-Computer." - Barbara

As soon as Harley and Maria hid under the Bat-Computer, Batman and the rest of the Batfam was on video call.

"Hey guys, what do you need?" - Barbara acting like nothing happened

"We need you to search for Maria, she's in a dark gray suit with pink accents, and she's with Harley." - Batman

"Ok, no prob, I'll contact you when I've found something." - and with that Barbara exited the call.

"Should we start heading out?" - Maria

"Yup, and here are your ID badges, don't lose them. I'll give our Batfam fake sightings, and lead them far away, then once you reach W.E I'll slowly start leading them closer to you." - Barbara

"Thanks, keep in touch if they decide to split up." - Maria

"Roger that." - Steph said giving a solute

•—–·–—•

Soon Multimouse and Harley are running over roof tops again, doing tricks, and stopping petty crimes, Barbara is leading the Batfam all over Gotham, and then they got to W.E, after Maria transformed back, they entered the building. Thanks to Babs, they entered without any problems and had free roam for the entire building, with some exceptions like new weapons designs, or the roof. They were hiding in the building for about an hour on the 7th floor when Barbara called in.

"Hey girls, you might want to be careful, I spotted some of Scarecrows goons a few blocks away, they seem to be heading in your direction, I'd say about 6mins tops until they reach W.E. Best to find a good room to stay in, or get out of there." - Barbara

"Thanks fawh de heads up Babs." - Harley

"Ok, we'll try to get out, let us know if we should turn back or not." - Maria

"Got it, and be careful." - Barbara

Maria and Harley then made their way back down, they were taking the stairs, because they figured it would be quicker, once they were on the second floor, they started to calmly make their way through the doors of the stairwell. That's when Scarecrows goons busted in, shouting for everyone to get down, Harley made sure to stay as close to Maria as possible as the goons gathered everyone to a wall. They were told to not move, talk, or do anything to anger them, once everyone was up against the wall, that's when Scarecrow came in. As he entered the room some of the employees started to look very scared, when Maria looked over to Harley, she saw her mouth 'it's ok', afterwards the goons had them all tied up and on the floor sitting down. Scarecrow scanned them before speaking.

"One of you will be testing my newest and most potent fear toxin as of yet. We can do this one out of two ways." He said lifting up two of his needle syringed fingers. "1. You can be a hero, and let yourself be my newest test subject, aka the boring way or 2. I pick whoever I want, aka the slightly less boring way. Now, who wants to go first?"

•—–· Over to Batman ·–—•

The Batfam was running around the other side of Gotham, now without Tony, because someone ( ehem Thor, ehem) was making a giant mess at Avengers Tower, and was fighting Loki... again. It was when they decided to call Oracle that things took another turn.

"Oracle have you foun- " - Batman

"They're at W.E. and Scarecrows there, I can't get in contact with them, and I can't get into the cameras at the moment, I need you to get your butts over there now!" - Oracle

"Wait you were in contact with them?!" - Red Hood

"Not the time! Just get over there before someone gets hurt!" - Oracle

"We're on our way." - Batman

They all then kicked it into high gear and were running to W.E, and out of everyone, Damian seemed to be the most visibly panicked, if him running twice as fast as everyone was any indication. At the speed they were going, they would be there in 20mins or less... hopefully.

•—–· Back to Maria and Harley ·–—•

So while Scarecrow was giving his little speech, Maria whispered into a plant to let Ivy know their situation, she wasn't able to get an answer before she and Harley were pulled away from the crowd.

"And what do we have here? Harley Quinn and a child. How interesting, well then, which one of you would like to test my new fear toxin?" - Scarecrow

"Eh, do me, I bet I got a lot o' trauma and fears from my time wit' Mistuh J. dat yuh would just love tuh see." - Harley

"... As tempting as that sounds I think I'll test it on your little friend here, after all, I know better than to mess with one of the Sirens." - As Scarecrow said that, one of the goons dragged Maria over to him. She didn't panic, she was actually really calm, which worried Harley even more because, remember all that emotional trauma she saw Maria had? Yeah, not the best match for the fear toxin.

As Scarecrow grabbed Maria, she locked eyes with Harley, and gave a brief smile before she felt a sharp jabbing pain in the side of her neck. Her vision went hazy, and from Harleys' point of view, she went a little limp from it.

As Maria started to see again she could hear screams, car alarms going off, and explosion in the distance, when she looked up, she saw them, her friends, her team... her family, they were all there lying infront of her... none of them moving, all of them were lifeless, looking as though turned into a gray husk of what they once were, and beside them were all the Kwamis, and their respective Jewelery, broken and shattered. She felt the tears fall as she looked around. Paris, the once beautiful city of lights, was now a wasteland, everything had a gray tone to it, people, animals, everything that had life... was dead.

And then she heard laughing, a sick disturbing laugh that was all to familiar... Lila. When she turned and saw Vulpina, she felt sick just looking at her.

"You have failed Maria, everyone you knew and loved is gone, all because you weren't here." - Lila

All she felt in that moment... was pure anger, she began to struggle, but somthing was holding her. She kept hearing that stupid laugh, and kept struggling harder and harder.

"You were never good enough, you were meant to always be our everyday Ladybug, but you never were, you never cared for us, and that's why, they're all gone, because you weren't good enough." - Lila

The last four words kept playing over and over in her head, until something clicked, she wasn't in Paris, so how did she get there? The last place she was at... was with Harley, she was in the W.E. building, and had fear toxin injected into her. As she came to that realization, she could hear the laughing fade just a bit, she closed her eyes and focused on finding everyone's souls, when she did, she saw that Scarecrow was right infront of her, a goon next to Harley, and a goon behind her, the other goons had left and were on the first floor. She snapped back when she heard Lilas' voice again.

"You always were stubborn and never accepted the real truth, as class president aren't you supposed to just roll over and do as you're told." - Lila

Maria was done listening to her, and decided to kick Lila in the face (since someone didn't think to tie up her ankles.)

"Just go rott in hell already you lieing fox!" - Maria

Maria didn't get any answer, all she knew was that she hit whatever was really infront of her hard. Maria then heard Lilas' voice morph into a heavier, more distorted voice.

"That's a first, guess I'll have to increase the dosage." - Scarecrow

She then felt another jabbing pain in her neck, all she could do was scream from the pain, her head was spinning, and all she could hear was laughing, sickening laughter that came from both Lila, and now Hawkmoth. One thing Scarecrow didn't account for, was the deep hatred Maria held for both individuals he made her see. Because soon after he gave her more fear toxin she got her footing, pushing back into the goon behind her before using the goons' grib on her to do a half backflip into kicking the guys face in, quickly knocking the goon out, when she stood back up she only saw Hawkmoth, surrounded by her lifeless team and family, she only saw red, and charge right at him. She kept punching and roundhouse kicking him, giving one final charge, ramming into Hawkmoth before she felt weightless. She never heard the panicked scream Harley let out, she never heard the shouts that came from the Batfam just reaching the second floor, before she hit something... something rapped around her holding her from falling any further, causing her to start thrashing around thinking it was Hawkmoth, before seeing he was also grabbed by something. She struggled ignoring the slight pain that went through her harms and legs. She slowly calmed down as she felt her feet touch the ground again, she then saw another Hawkmoth that was now mixed with Lila hug her, she tried to break free, but realized that it wasn't Lila or Hawkmoth... It was calming, and her voice was gentle, it was Ivy. She only heard a few words, that's when she felt something blow on her face, and after a few seconds, she lost conscientiousness.

Harley came sprinting down and was by Ivys' side in less than a minute. Ivy could tell Harley was worried and joined her in hugging a now sleeping Maria.

"I'm sawhry Ives, It all just happened so fast, and she was so awesome at kickin' Cranes @ss, I din't get her out of dere quick enough." - Harley said as she looked Ivy in the eyes, with tears threatening to escape.

"It's alright Harley, none of this is your fault." - Ivy replied comfortingly to Harley

As the two hugged Maria Batman came over.

"We'll take it from here." - Batman

"Hell no. We ain't leavin' her side." - Harley

Batman just let out a sigh, after he dealt with Scarecrow and his goons, Batman, along with his sons, Ivy and Harley, all headed back to the Bat-cave where the other girls and Alfred were waiting.

If anyone noticed Robin looking over to Maria with a concerned look, they just ignored it, and continued their way back home.

•—–·†·–—•

Chapter 6 complete! Hope you'll liked it, and are havin' a fantabulous day, stay safe and rock all those positive vibes. !BUG-OUT! 🐞💮🐞

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#miraculous ladybug #damian x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #damianette #marinette x damian #damimari #harley quinn #shenanigans #badass marinette #poison ivy #catwoman #batfam #miraculous fanfic #fanfic #mlb fanfic #class salt #fluff fic #gotham sirens #choas #mlb x dc #mlb crossover #mlb x marvel #mlb fanart #digital art #fanart #miraculous marinette #miraculous damian wayne #foryou #maribat #Whacky Gotham Goofy New York and Chaotic Paris

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober 2021 - October 1 - Bound

Fandom: Nightwing, Batman - All Media Types

AO3

Warnings: Kidnapping, Panic Attacks, Isolation, mentions of IV/needles

---

It’s been hours since Dick’s woken up… here.

“Here” is hard to describe, yet incredibly easy. He can say for sure that at least within the 180 degrees ahead of him, it’s all white. White walls that, if arranged in a mirrored-image behind him, might make a hexagon. The ceiling above him is bright and unforgiving, LED lights dotting the space above him like freckles on Barbara’s cheeks and shoulders. He can’t see any sign of a door ahead of him, and the gray-speckled white tiles that make the floor aren’t particularly enjoyable to look at.

Yeah, describing what he can see about the room is the easy part. The hard part is that behind him? It’s all guess-work. For all he knew, there could be nothing behind him, or a cliff, or… or something ridiculous. There could be a whole manner of things behind him, but it’s impossible for him to get a look because his head is strapped to the cushioned chair he’s forced to sit on.

He hates this. It’s been hours. The chair, while cushioned, isn’t even that comfortable. The way his arms lay on the armrests and his feet come together near the end of the chair suggests a dentist’s chair and a therapist’s sofa had an evil love-child who was into bondage, considering how many straps were buckled in to keep him trapped down.

He’s going to lose his mind. Did he really just make a bondage joke about a chair?!

Anyway, he’s stuck here, his arms pinned down by the wrists, elbows, and under his armpits. Two heavy straps run over each shoulder and cross in the middle of his chest to connect back to the chair near his hips. And speaking of hips, there’s another strap around them too like an old Volkswagen seat belt. More straps around his thighs, knees, and ankles keep his legs locked together and down. That’s not even mentioning the binds that lock around his neck or the one around his forehead that’s fitted to the headrest that seems designed to not let him even attempt to rotate his chin to the side.

It’s horrible, and awful, and cruel, and unusual, and he’s not even that sure why he’s here. All he can tell is that he has a massive headache, his Nightwing mask is on but his suit is gone—replaced by some sort of nightgown that definitely doesn’t seem friendly, and whenever he tenses his arm he can feel a tug in his wrist.

Must be an IV of some sort? It’s strange though, from what he can see he can’t see any medical equipment hanging around him. But it has to be an IV. With his night job, he’s become familiar with the way his lips go dry and how his fingers tremble when the damn needle gets put in his arm.

But… if it is an IV, it must need changing by now, surely. It’s been hours, and those things don’t last that long.

Hours. Sitting here with the feeling of a needle in his arm, not sure where he is or what he’s doing here, nothing to look at besides those Barbara Gordon freckles on the ceiling and those gray speckles on the tile.

He tugs on the restraints for what must be the thousandth time, and growls when nothing happens, as unsurprising it is. All his attempts to slip out of or break the restraints have left him with nothing but bruising and irritated skin. However, he feels so restless and bored out of his mind that tugging on the belts seems to be the only productive thing his brain can think of to do.

He tugs again, and nothing happens. He sighs. Relaxes back. And… tries to think of how he got into this mess.

It’s just as successful as breaking the straps.

-o-o-o-o-

“Okay, I’ll bite,” he calls out to nothing. His eyes hurt, he’s exhausted, he needs to pee and that’s something he doesn’t want to deal with. “What do you want from me, eh?”

Silence. His hands bunch in angry fists and he pulls against the straps hard enough for him to feel the edge bite into his skin.

“Batman’s identity?” He tries, because it’s always about Batman’s Identity (TM). When there isn’t any answer, he continues. “Police secrets?” Nothing. “Superman’s identity?”

Nothing. He growls and glares at the empty walls ahead of him.

-o-o-o-o-

He’s using the pain in his wrists, focusing on the warmth running down the cuts the straps have finally created, instead of the pressure in his bladder.

It only lasts so long.

Great, so now he’s bored out of his mind, stuck, and the room smells horrible. Or, the room smells horrible until whatever unseen vent takes away the reek and the chair dries, leaving him being the only one who’s smelling.

He hates this. He hates this. He hates this.

He jerks against every restraint and snarls in impatience and restlessness. He can feel the cuts tear more, but he’s close to not caring, he longs to move.

If his snarling eventually fades into howls, then he’s almost positive no one is around to hear it other than himself.

-o-o-o-o-

Bruce’s cape settles around his feet as he lands, launching droplets of questionable sewage water up to his knees. Damian lands beside him, the whites of his domino mask narrowed in fierce determination.

It’s been nothing but a series of long hours since the Riddler kidnapped Dick with the clues to his whereabouts left carved into the pavement with abandoned Wing-Dings. During Bruce’s search, a few things became apparent: Dick was trapped, alone, and Bruce had until Dick died from malnourishment once the crude IV he was apparently attached to ran out. Riddler is already behind bars, has been for several hours, but interrogation wont get him to give up his games, and Bruce may be a vigilante and “above the law”, but he wont stoop so low as to torture.

At least, not until things get desperate and Damian’s not around to see. Dick would never forgive Bruce, and will probably never talk to him even in any kind of afterlife.

But it hasn’t come to that, Tim solved the riddle through emails delivered from wherever he’s located with his Young Justice friends. They’re always changing spots, and even if Tim were to come home and solve the riddles in person, it would probably be too late.

It isn’t too late, he reminds himself as Damian takes off down the sewers. They know Dick’s exact coordinates. Bruce almost kicked himself when Tim revealed them, because of course lead to Gotham’s abandoned sewage system.

The way to Dick’s location is a tough one, one riddled (as Dick would say) with traps. But they’re nothing compared to a worried father and a determined brother. They find the door nudged neatly behind a section of brick, and when Bruce opens it he’s almost blinded by the night vision in his lenses adjusting to the sudden attacks of bright lights.

Bruce sees before he hears. His eyes were always one of his favorite senses, which is probably why Damian—a boy who’s had to hear to save his life many times—ran to the chair in the middle of the hexagon-shaped room before him. White walls, white tile, white LED’s to sit in a white ceiling. The back of a padded chair in the center of the room faces him, revealing nothing of what it contains.

And then Bruce hears the screaming. Weak, clawing screaming that sounds like what sandpaper would feel on dry skin. He knows this scream, the tones to it, and within moments he’s running to the front side of the chair with Damian.

Dick’s there… writhing. Blood stains skin and cloth around almost every strap holding him down from struggling that must have been continuing for hours. As Damian tears an IV—the tube feeding him nutrients disappears within the chair; there must be some sort of mechanism keeping it working within its structure—Dick’s struggles like he doesn’t notice the change. His eyes are squeezed shut, tears drip down his cheeks, and his screams are so so hard to listen to. Does he even know they’re here?

“Dick,” Bruce says, knowing there’s no one to hear him with Riddler behind bars and his goons scattered. Dick doesn’t respond, just continues to yowl like a wounded stray cat. Already, Bruce can see the symptoms of prolonged use of an IV and of exhaustion. Has Dick slept at all since being kidnapped?

Damian begins work on one of the straps around Dick’s jerking wrists. Bruce follows suit, quickly, desperately wanting to get his eldest out of here, but he’s forced to abandon his task when the loosened strap on Damian’s side allows Dick to tug his wrist free and move to hit the boy. Bruce catches his hand before the hit can be met.

“LET ME GO!” Dick screeches.

“Dick, we’re helping you,” Bruce shouts back wearily, but Dick doesn’t listen as he begins to babble all kinds of demands similar to let me go. Bruce gives Damian a look. “He’s exhausted and most likely delusional. Our best course of action would be for me to hold him down, and you undo the rest of the straps. Maybe we can get to him without having to risk drugging him once he’s no longer restrained.”

Damian looks all parts of his age as he takes a second to give a shockingly vulnerable stare Dick’s way. The vulnerability only lasts a moment before Damian’s nodding. “Got it.”

The next several minutes are filled with events that will reveal themselves in bruises with the coming days, even through the kevlar. It’s tough work keeping a Dick Grayson down, especially when it’s a Dick Grayson who absolutely refuses to be kept down in the first place. However, eventually they release the last strap around Dick’s other wrist and soon enough, both Bruce and Damian are jumping back and Dick launches himself out of the chair, stumbling to the floor and then falling to his ass when his knees give out. Dick looks pitiful, trapped between wanting to curl up and cry or stand up and run, yet curling up seems to win out as Dick must have no energy to lift himself back up.

“Dick,” Bruce calls again when Dick’s hoarse breathing calms, and this time, hope flutters into his belly when Dick’s shoulder’s tense in response.

“… B…?” comes a horribly weak response, but a response nonetheless. Bruce rushes around the damned chair to where his eldest still sits, curled up and shaking. He reaches out unconsciously, kneeling down to scoop Dick up in an embrace, but stops when Dick violently flinches away.

“Don’t touch me,” he whimpers, “just- I don’t- I couldn’t move-” he breaks into sobs.

Bruce is almost considering returning to Arkham and breaking a few bones. Instead, he lowers his voice and speaks as calmly as he can.

“I understand. But we have to get you back home. Just your arm around my shoulder, and I’ll support you while you walk. Can you do that?”

It’s proof of just how shaken Dick is when it takes a few moments to get a hesitant nod.

Bruce does his best to ignore Dick’s flinching and twitching while, with permission, Bruce helps Dick up and wraps his arm exactly where Bruce said he would. Damian stands a few paces off, looking torn. Bruce tells him to run ahead and bring the bat-mobile closer to the sewer opening while Dick blinks owlishly and gulps like a fish… doing his best to keep down what must be a pending panic attack. Damian thankfully leaves without much argument, and Bruce is left to help his eldest, hyperactive, always moving, always smiling, always stimming in some way or another son out the blasted room and towards freedom with as much control given over to Dick as possible.

“I scared Dami,” Dick whispers through clenched teeth, halfway through the sewage tunnels.

Bruce hums and resists tightening his grip on Dick’s arm. “It’s not your fault. He will not hold it against you.”

“I scared you.”

“… I was scared for you. But right now the only thing that matters is getting you home. Then everything can return to normal”

Dick nods his head, his voice choking in what must be another sob. “Okay,” he whispers, “okay.”

And Bruce silently vows to punch Riddler a little harder the next time he sees him.

But right now, the only thing he cares about is that Dick’s alive, and Bruce is bringing him home.

#whumptober2021 #dick gryason #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #damian wayne #robin #fanfiction #no.1 #bound #panic attacks tw #jin writes

[ragingbookdragon]

Aloha, PT. 3 of this piece comin' at you with supersonic speed

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

She balanced the tin of cupcakes in one hand and opened the door with the other, already more than nervous as she stepped into GCPD. Some of the officers smiled and nodded at her while others merely watched as she walked up to the desk and cleared her throat.

“Excuse me,” she interrupted. “Is Commissioner Gordon here? I’d like to speak with him.”

The man’s eyes went from the cupcake tin to her face and he asked. “Can I ask what for?”

“Oh, yes, I just need to speak with him about something…involving Batman’s, uh…helpers?” she winced. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

He cocked a brow, but shrugged and grabbed the phone, pushing a button. “Sir, you’ve got someone here to see you…no sir, she just said it dealt with Batman and the others…understood sir.” He hung the phone up. “He’ll over soon.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, and waited for the detective to arrive. When he did, she held her hand out, “Commissioner Gordon?”

He shook her hand. “Good evening, young lady. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m (Y/N) and um…it’s a bit complicated actually.”

“We live in a city with men and women who dress up in costumes and fight insane clowns.” He snorted. “We do complicated around here.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and nodded. “That’s fair, Commissioner Gordon.” She raised the tray of cupcakes in her hand. “This is going to be really weird, but I was wondering if I could use the spotlight to…call one of them.”

Gordon’s eyes drifted from the cupcakes to her, then back to the desserts. “You wanna use the Bat-Signal to get one of them…so you can give them cupcakes?”

Her mouth opened and closed, then she admitted, “Okay, that sounded a lot better in my head.” She sighed. “It’s not crazy, I swear but—”

“Why don’t you follow me to my office, and we can talk about this, hmm?” he asked, and she nodded.

“That sounds great, sir.” She followed close behind him to a closed-off room and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, waiting for him to sit in his chair.

“So,” he started when he sat down. “Start from the beginning of why you wanna give Batman cupcakes.”

(Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and she murmured, “Nightwing. I want to give them to Nightwing, actually.” He cocked a brow but said nothing and she cleared her throat. “So, the other week, Nightwing helped me out with something and to repay the debt, I made these.”

“What’d he help you with?” Gordon questioned and she played with the hem of her sweater.

“Uh, he…he, um, helped me with a um…a really embarrassing rejection.” She waved her hand. “And I sobbed like a baby on his shoulder and I just wanna give him these in return and tell him sorry for taking up his valuable time.” (Y/N)’s cheeks felt like they were on fire and she begged, “Please let me use the signal to call and I’ll leave. Promise, sir.”

Gordon watched her for a moment then he chuckled and rose from his desk. “I’ve been doing this for about forty years, and nothing has ever been this funny in my entire life.” She sighed, thinking a ‘no’ was coming and he stood beside her. “Come with me to the elevator and we’ll go up.”

(Y/N) blinked in disbelief. “Wait, what? You’re going to let me?”

“Of all the things I’ve ever had someone come in and ask for? Delivering cupcakes is a new one. And I pride myself on getting the new ones.” He smiled. “Come on.”

Not wanting to blow her chance, she hurried after him with a big smile on her face and soon she was standing next to the giant spotlight, watching it silhouette against the night sky. She waited for a moment, then asked, “So how long does this usually take?”

He grunted. “Takes longer when you ask how long it takes.”

“That makes sense,” she laughed, and someone cleared their throat behind them. Both her and Gordon startled, though his reaction was less noticeable than hers, whereas she jumped a foot in the air.

“Red Hood,” Gordon greeted, holding out a hand to shake. “Good to see you, son.”

“Good to see you as well, Commissioner Gordon.” Red Hood replied. “Big-Bat in charge sent me here to see what was going on. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Gordon said, motioning to (Y/N). “You’ve got a visitor.”

The vigilante turned to her as if finally noticing her presence and he asked, “What’s wrong?”

(Y/N) held out the cupcake tin to him. “I was wondering if you could give these to Nightwing.”

Red Hood glanced down at the cupcakes. “Why’d you make cupcakes for that jerk-off?”

She was shocked to hear such an insult and she bit out, “Well maybe because I wanted to, jerk-off.” He was probably scowling at her from behind that mask, but she wasn’t going to back down. “Nightwing did me a favor last week and I always repay my debts.” (Y/N) held out the tin again. “Will you please give these to him and tell him thank you for his pep-talk?”

Red Hood took the tin from her, asking quietly, “What’d he help you with?”

“Oh my God, why does everyone wanna know?” she griped, then exhaled through her nose. “Fine, I got rejected by a guy I’m in love with, and I boohooed like a baby on a park bench with Nightwing holding my hand like a parent to a child and being super sympathetic.” (Y/N) glared, though she appeared flustered. “Are you happy now, Red Hood?”

“Be a lot happier if you weren’t giving my brother cupcakes,” he muttered under his breath and looked at her. “Do you want the Tupperware back?”

She nodded. “Just tell him that I’ll be back at the bench on Friday this week to pick it up. Same time as the other week.”

“I’ll tell him,” Red Hood said with a rather annoyed tone and started back towards the other side of the building.

“Red Hood!” she called out and he paused, glancing back at her. “Look…I know you’re busy with other things. So…thank you for doing this. Really, I appreciate it.”

He shook his head, murmuring softly, “Don’t worry about it, (Y/N).” And he was gone.

Gordon walked over to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Miss (Y/N)? Are you alright?”

She blinked and nodded, though she felt a great deal of confusion as she said, “He knew my name?”

***

Jason watched his brothers dig into the cupcakes, groaning about how good they were. He didn’t even need to eat the one he had in his hand because he knew. He knew she made the best baked goods he’d ever had, especially these ones which were her specialty. Double Dutch Chocolate Cupcakes with little pink, shimmering pearls. She put them on because she thought they were cute.

He glanced down at the cupcake in his hands, asking, “How do you know, (Y/N), Dick?”

The eldest brother paused midchew and stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. “Huh?”

“Cupcakes,” Jason said, gesturing to them. “She made them as a thanks to you. For last week.” He looked at his brother. “What for?”

Dick swallowed the bite he’d been chewing and nonchalantly replied, “Oh, nothing big. Just being friendly.” He shrugged. “How do you know her?”

Jason scowled. “Don’t do that shit. We both know how I know her.”

“Oh, right! The rejection after the flowers and book!” Dick exclaimed, taking another bite. “So, why’d you say no anyway? She seems like great girl.”

“She is,” he agreed. “The greatest.”

Tim elbowed Dick in the ribs, murmuring, “Is this Jason admitting he’s in love?”

“I don’t know,” Dick replied. “Jaybird, if you’re this pissed at me—”

“I’m not pissed,” he retorted, very much so pissed. “I just don’t want her getting involved with this.”

Dick’s mouth formed an ‘o’. “So that’s why you rejected her. You’re afraid of letting her know about everything.” He hummed knowingly. “See, she said that was probably it. That you’re scared.”

“What?” Jason’s eyes widened. “What’d she say to you?” He handed his younger brother a thumb drive. “What’s this?”

“Recording of the conversation I had with her last Friday,” he replied. “I was planning on giving it to you later tonight.” Dick laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder and murmured, “She’s not going to run away if you’re vulnerable with her Jason.” He nodded to the flash drive. “She’s stronger than you’re giving her credit for.” Dick patted his shoulder and took the cupcake from Jason’s other hand, biting into it. “Oh my God,” he groaned, walking off. “What does she put in these things? They’re addicting.”

***

I’m not afraid of him or what he’s afraid he is.

Jason put his forehead on the desk and stared at the floor, not really sure what was tightening worse, his chest or his throat, but something in the mix started hurting and he let out a shaky breath, vision blurring and he squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. Rejecting her affections meant she forgot about him. She forgot that he existed, and she stayed safe. She stayed alive. Jason wanted that. He wanted (Y/N) to grow old with someone and have a family, not die an early death at the hands of some crazed villain or worse, a failure of his saving.

He let out a low groan and rubbed his forehead against the desk, wishing that it would solve all his problems. Mostly the ones in his broken heart. They had texted each other and video called constantly. Usually meeting up once a week to hang out somewhere or go get dinner. His entire life had changed in one conversation, and the only thing he regretted more than telling her he didn’t feel the same way and making her cry was watching her lie that she hadn’t been bothered when he knew deep down that her heart was shattered. He knew it because he watched her breakdown in her car through the manor window before she pulled out of the driveway.

Maybe Dick was right though…and that thought made him wanna vomit because younger-brother syndrome was a real thing and listening to your older brother wasn’t fun. But if she were that honest with Nightwing, that real with him, then maybe he could tell her the truth. All of it. About everything he was hiding from her. His past and most importantly his feelings for her. Maybe he could really keep her safe if he did.

Maybe Jason could be the one she grew old with. The one who held her hand and loved her.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood x reader imagines #red hood x reader imagine #red hood imagines #red hood imagine #red hood #batfamily x reader #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #dc comics #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #red robin

[wordsablaze]

Touch And Go

day six, where dick realises there’s no way to fit back into his life after returning from spyral...

A/N: blame spyral for this, i’m still mad about it. whumptober prompt: touch starved

-

Cold had become a constant in Dick’s life.

Cold words, cold stares, cold nights, cold shoulders, cold drinks, cold reports, cold hands, cold everything .

He thinks the cold might have been the worst part of being undercover. Because sure, the risks and the deadlines and the uncertainty hadn’t exactly been fun, but the cold had been something beyond awful: the cold had been lonely.

Dick grew up surrounded by people and love and warmth, and then he grew up around fewer people and more subtle love but somehow just as much warmth, and then he became a part of the people and love and warmth that yet another version of his family was growing up surrounded by.

He didn’t always do a great job of providing love and warmth, he knows, but he tried. And he liked to think that it had worked because every time he felt like the nights were too dark or too long or too haunted, nostalgia had only brought back memories of smiles and bickering and warmth that fuelled him to keep working, to keep fighting, to just generally keep going.

Only, he must have thought wrong.

He must have, because now he’s back to living normally and he’s actually allowed to exist in daylight and everything should be fine, but it’s not; he hadn’t been foolish enough to think everyone would forgive him immediately - pretending he was dead is far worse than dropping off the grid for a few days after a fight - but he had apparently been foolish enough to think everyone would forgive him at all.  

Nightwing returns with relative ease but Dick Grayson finds himself unwanted.

He’s unwanted when he tries to talk to Jason about the classics he’d read to cope but finds himself met with only vague comments about their opinions being mismatched. He’s unwanted when he offers Tim help with his research for a case he’s been looking into all night but finds himself met with barely polite dismissals. He’s unwanted when he offers to take Damian out for some fun but finds himself met with scowls and excuses that only half make sense.

So he stops trying to be wanted.

He leaves Gotham.

He finds a new place in Bludhaven and spends every night throwing around threats and punches until the crime rate drops to unprecedented low levels, then continues to patrol as if his life depends on it anyway. He won’t admit it, but it somewhat does.

And he knows he’s getting a very strange reputation because every gang has a different theory about his return and why his puns are often mixed with bloodlust and why he never seems to sleep, but he couldn’t care less - he doesn’t let himself care because caring is warm and he is oh so cold and there’s no changing that.

Some days, usually after bad nights, he craves warmth. He craves hands running gently through his hair, he craves arms wrapped tightly around him, he craves fingers intertwined seamlessly with his own, he craves and craves and craves so badly that it hurts.

There are no painkillers that work against this kind of cold.

It doesn’t matter whether it’s summer or winter, the cold sticks to his skin like lichen to a rock. He wants desperately for someone to replace it with the warmth of human contact but his only option is getting into fights and although trading punches with the criminal underworld can be a good distraction, he’s still on his own again by the time he gets back from patrol.

“Richard?”

Well, he’s usually on his own.

He flinches at the sound of his name, not having heard anyone say it for far too long, instinctively unsheathing his escrima sticks and positioning himself defensively because he can’t think of anyone who would be in his apartment unless they’re trying to kill him.

“There’s no need for that, it’s just me.”

Me?

Me, who?

Dick drops his escrima sticks, not sure whether he does so because something in his head tells him the voice can be trusted or if he just doesn’t care enough to protect himself any longer.

“Richard?”

This time, the voice sounds concerned and Dick finally looks up.

He blinks.

And blinks again, because there’s no way Damian is standing in front of him right now.

There’s no way anyone can be standing in front of him right now. He hasn’t spoken to any of his family - if he’s even still allowed to call them that - for weeks and they’ve given no indication of caring what he’s been doing or even where he is so Damian being here is illogical at best and another hallucination at worst.

“Richard- Dick? Are you hurt?”

It’s the use of his preferred nickname that jolts Dick out of his shock. He swallows and shakes his head, pulling himself upright and resisting the urge to ask how Damian is doing, how everyone is doing, how the people he loves but isn’t loved back by are doing without him.

“Damian. It’s uhm, it’s really nice to see you. Is there something I can help you with?” he asks, smiling.

Damian frowns at him, glancing between his abandoned weapons and the awkward way he’s holding himself before clicking his tongue. “Alfred would like to invite you back home for dinner.”

Dick laughs.

“Home?” he echoes.

The manor hasn’t been his home since he died.

Home is people and love and warmth and the manor is none of those things. It can’t be any of those things because everyone living there hates him and everything about the place leaves him feeling empty and everywhere he goes, he is always alone and cold.

“I would also appreciate your presence,” Damian adds softly, stepping forwards.

Under any other circumstances, Dick would congratulate his little brother on expressing his feelings. But now he knows better than to think Damian would tolerate that so he just steps back, wrapping his arms around his stomach and clenching his hands into fists around his suit. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Richard, I-”

“It’s okay, I know you can’t forgive me,” Dick interrupts, knowing that anything Damian says would probably break him to the point of no return. “You don’t need to explain, I don’t blame you. I- I love you and… and I understand. And I’m sorry- I’m so, so, sorry. I just- I get it and I’m so sorry.”

Before Damian can get any closer, Dick grabs his escrima sticks and all but flings himself out of the window, knowing that he can never go back to that apartment and will most definitely have to relocate once more. But that’s okay because anything and anywhere will be better than being reminded of the people he will never see again, of the love he will never share again, of the warmth he will never feel again.

-

accidentally turned him into a more angsty elsa, oops-

-

thanks for reading !! masterlist | dc sideblog: @batfamvibes

#whumptober2021 #no.6 #touch starved #dc #batman #fanfiction #dick grayson #hurt dick grayson #hurt no comfort #angst #dick and damian #my writing #nightwhump #no beta we die like dick's hopes and dreams

[soulmate-game]

Well that happened.

B!dbwm 2020

Day 6: Meeting the Justice League

Marinette paced in her bedroom in Wayne Manor, running her hands through her hair as Damian laid on her bed and played animal crossing while completely ignoring her freakout. 

“Dami, how did I get myself into this mess?!” she asked, frantically pulling at her pigtails. Her brother snorted, rolling his eyes unsympathetically. 

“You never use your brain until after you’ve already made important decisions,” he responded ruthlessly. “All of your mental capacity goes towards planning out completely inane things like birthday parties and actually caring about what our even more idiotic class thinks about you, so when you actually need it you don’t have any intelligence left to spare.” 

Marinette turned her eyes on him, the blue lightening to an icy color in her panicked annoyance as she glared at him. “Gee, thanks. I can always trust my darling brother to have my back,” she said sarcastically, to which Damian only smirked. 

“When it matters? Of course. But in this case, watching the fallout will be entertaining and not at all dangerous to your physical safety.” 

Damian and Marinette had been sent to live in Paris a few years back, about a year after Damian had come back to life. Marinette had been far too attached to the twin she had thought she had lost for good, and had nearly driven him crazy with how overprotective she had gotten. Right alongside that, Damian had started to become even more stifled by Bruce’s own protectiveness and distrust of him, so he quit being Robin and they were sent to PAris to try and “recover” from their “trauma” somewhere “safe and peaceful, under the jurisdiction of the JLE.” 

Yeah, that was a great idea. Up until they found out the hard way that the JLE had up and abandoned the Paris headquarters and taken up unofficial residence in England somewhere. And then Hawkmoth showed up. And of course, of fucking course, an old chinese man from the pacifistic organization that acted as a direct foil to the League where they grew up somehow decided that they, out of everyone in Paris, were the best people he could find to wield the power of tiny gods to save the city. 

Sure, he was right, but Damian chewed him a new asshole as soon they met for trusting complete unvetted strangers with the gods of creation and destruction. 

And now Marinette had finally managed to leak to Tim, who then spread the calculated slip of information to Bruce, that Paris had had a supervillain for the past few years and the JLE had been neglecting their jobs. Which turned into Batman setting up a meeting with Ladybug and Chat Noir (Damian had tried to tell everyone his name was Chance Noir, Dark Luck, NOT ‘chat noir,’ since the last thing he needed was to be associated with Selina in any way. Nobody listened, and now he was stuck with being called Chat Noir). They had a lovely discussion about all the shit Hawkmoth did, their lack of resources, and the lack of assistance/straight up refusal to believe their word that came from the JLE. 

Which led to Batman inviting Ladybug to meet the Justice League to debrief on the Paris situation. Damian had been invited as Chat Noir, but had taken the smart path and opted out. Now Marinette had to not only go to the Justice League as Ladybug, but also as Batman's daughter Hummingbird, who was being brought in for consultation along with Damian as Robin. 

“I’m gonna die again,” Marinette continued her catastrophizing, Tikki and Plagg sharing a glance at once another from their spot on her writing desk. “I’m gonna die of total embarrassment. Don’t bother resurrecting me Dami, I’m just gonna die all over again once Dad finds out who we are and kills me.” 

Damian snorted. “Hah. Father killing anything, good one,” he snarked back blandly. “You’ll be fine. Remember, you’re the planner and I’m the one with actual skill. You have the strangest ability when it comes to getting out of situations like these by the skin of your teeth,” Damian grinned at something on the screen of his Switch before continuing. “You’ll be fine. And if you sell me out, I’ll bury you myself.” 

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him. Neither of them wanted their dad to find out that they were LAdybug and Chat noir, especially since they had already explained to him the basics of the source of their powers. They were both certain that Bruce would completely ignore how well they had been handling the situation on their own for almost five years and jump straight to the “my murderous children should not be left with the powers of destruction and creation at their fingertips,” line of thought. Bruce had never trusted them alone before, why now? 

“At least help me, shaqiq?” Marinette asked, walking over and plopping onto the ground next to her bed, so she could look straight into her twin’s bright green eyes. At first, he refused to even look at her, completely unmoved. Marinette hummed mischievously, a habit that was the source of her Gotham codename. “If I go down, I’m taking you with me.” 

Damian finally huffed, scowling. “Fine.” 

He knew better than to doubt her. Marinette always got her way when she decided she was wronged and needed to even the score for something. Always. 

—* — * — * — * — *

Hummingbird. The smallest Bat, by far, and the fastest when it came to natural speed. Hard to spot, with the sole giveaway that a short playful hum could be heard if she thought she had her prey cornered. She was hardly ever wrong. 

She had also been temporarily retired as she and Robin moved to some undisclosed location to get away from the vigilante life for a while. Or so Batman said. And for the most part, aside from the occasional League gathering here or glimpse that they got of the two’s civilian personas if someone visited the manor while they were there, Robin and Hummingbird stayed retired. Heroes who knew them wondered if Robin had finally given up and settled down somehow, if he was even capable of it. And they all speculated that Hummingbird was so scarred from Robin’s death that she wouldn't ever be able to leave his side again, retired or not. 

 Seeing Hummingbird in her navy blue and black uniform, almost identical to her brother’s but for the thick navy blue scarf that covered her neck and lower face, everyone in the Justice League who knew her thought they were right. She stood there, older and only a little taller, never leaving Robin’s side as they traded secretive glances and hand signals only they understood. They didn’t make any attempt to stray from one another’s side. 

But Jon Kent, superboy and Damian’s oldest friend, was of a different mind. He had been by Marinette’s side after Damian died, and by both of theirs when he was brought back. This was not the same terrified dependence he had seen back then. His eyes narrowed. 

The twins were scheming, and nobody else would notice until it was too late. 

Quicker than they could blink, he was by their side with his trademark smile. “Hey guys! Long time no see!” 

They gave the half-kryptonian identical deadpan expressions, sighing in tandem. “You facetimed us last night. And you flew to Paris to visit us last week,” Damian pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “Despite us expressly telling you not to.” 

Jon shrugged. “If I listened to everything you two said all the time, we’d never have any fun. So, excited to meet this Ladybug girl? Dad says that your dad won’t tell him anything about her until she shows up.” 

Hummingbird and Robin traded looks before Marinette answered. “Not really. We see Ladybug in action in Paris all the time—”

“She even saved Marinette from an Akuma who was obsessed with wanting to date her,” Damian interrupted with an insufferable grin. Marinette elbowed him hard, making her brother wince before chuckling at her red face. 

“I could have saved myself just fine! It’s not my fault we have to lay low, or we might get kicked out of Paris for being past vigilantes!” Marinette argued, voice high as she protested how helpless Damian had made her sound. She puffed her cheeks out in annoyance. Damian’s grin widened into a predatory smirk that showed off teeth.

“Oh? What about that one time that Tsurugi got akumatized, and Chat Noir had to save you because she wanted to duel you for the right to date me and you were cornered?” 

Marinette growled, throwing up her hands in frustration before smacking Damian’s shoulder angrily. He only laughed at her. “I’m leaving! Come find me when Ladybug finishes explaining the things we already know!” with that, a fuming and embarrassed Hummingbird stormed out of the room. 

“Huh,” Flash remarked, leaning against the wall. “She looks a lot better than the last time I saw her. And she actually left your immediate vicinity. Willingly,” he remarked to Robin, who glared at the speedster. 

“It’s been almost six years. If you think my sister is weak enough to be that thoroughly encumbered by the past for so long, you are greatly underestimating her,” he looked around to see almost all of the gathered League members staring at him. He grit his teeth and looked over at his father. “When is this woman going to arrive, anyway? You’d think she would actually be on time.” 

Just then, a portal opened in the middle of the room and Ladybug walked through. Quickly shedding the brown costume that allowed her to teleport in, she was left in just her black and red-spotted combat suit. Seeing as they finally found out how to alter the costumes the Kwami gave them, Ladybug’s hair now sat in a braided bun on the crown of her head and her costume was made to look more like Nightwing’s with the ladybug symbol on her upper chest and between her shoulder blades on her back, with black gloves that reached up to her elbows and black knee-high boots with red stripes up the sides. 

The brightly colored heroine smiled, seeming to light up the room with cheer that nearly put Jon to shame (it took her awhile to perfect that particular smile. She actually based it off Jon himself, and Damian was impressed by how accurate she had been able to make it over time. Not that he would say as much out loud). 

That was when Diana started choking on thin air, and Damian and Marinette both realized that they had overlooked something rather major. 

Hippolyta had been a Ladybug. Diana had met Tikki. Diana knew how to see past Tikki’s glamour. 

At first, Ladybug tried to play it off. Maybe Diana would catch on and help her out. So she walked over, holding her hand out for Wonderwoman to shake and putting on another wide smile for good measure. 

“Oh my Kwamii! It is so good to finally meet you, Wonderwoman, Tikki told me so much about you and your mother! Would you like to talk later—”

“Marinette Wayne, how in Zeus’ name did you become the new Ladybug?” Wonderwoman instantly yelled, making Marinette wilt. Damian tried backing away slowly, only for Diana’s eyes to then shoot over to him and narrow dangerously. “And you! I knew I felt something weird, but now I can pinpoint it. You are wielding the Black Cat! One of you explain what is going on. Now.” 

Ladybug and Robin instantly looked away, getting ready to make a quick escape right as their father walked up behind Robin, putting a firm hand on his shoulders. As always when Batman smiled, it sent a shiver down everyone’s spine. Marinette gulped a little. 

“I agree. Marinette, I forgot to tell you that we changed the locations of the League security cameras last night,” shit they were so busted. Bruce must have suspected them of something from the very beginning, stupid world’s greatest detective instincts— “But now that we have confirmed that my suspicions were correct, we can save that discussion for later. First, let’s debrief on the Paris situation like we agreed. Then, you two will explain why you decided not to tell me while you help each other clean the entire Batcave tonight.” 

Damian didn’t open his hand for the entire meeting. He and Marinette made eye contact as soon as everyone sat down for a suddenly very uneasy debrief, silently agreeing that they would not let their father take away their Miraculous. They finally had names and reputations of their own, away from the Batclan and their father’s influence. They had learned more about themselves and what they were capable of in those past years as Miraculous wielders than in all the years of the rest of their lives combined. They wouldn’t give it up, not even for Bruce’s approval. 

But when they got back to the Manor and began cleaning up the batcave as they had been ordered, they were surprised when Bruce made no mention of taking their jewelry back at all. And he stayed up with them, silently reviewing things on the Batcomputer as they cleaned. It could almost be considered family bonding. 

By the time the twins were done cleaning the sun was about to rise, and finally their father spoke up for the first time since they had begun their punishment chore. 

“I watched days worth of your Paris battles before going out to meet Ladybug and Chat Noir in person,” he said without ever turning around from his spot at the computer. “I was impressed. I still am. The teamwork was flawless, and the Parisian heroes never used deadly force. They even did their best to provide emotional support to the victims who were akumatized. I thought for sure at least one of you two would have been victims yourself, with all that you’ve been through. Anything can be a trigger for you, anything can make you vulnerable to Hawkmoth,” Bruce paused to take a sip of coffee. He didn’t have to look at his children’s reflections in the face of the Batcomputer to know they were drinking in every word he said. He did anyway, allowing a small smile that they couldn’t see to form on his lips. 

“I scoured through every akuma attack one by one, trying to find the one where one or both of you were the ones possessed. But I only found more reasons to be impressed by the heroes instead. By the time I was done looking through every scrap of video I could find, I had a feeling I knew who you were. Hearing your voices in person cemented it further, but I wanted video proof. So, knowing that Marinette would have forgotten about agreeing to accompany me to a JL meeting, I asked Ladybug to debrief us.” 

“You had us from the start,” Marinette sighed, shoulders slumping. But Damian said nothing, eyes wide as he picked up on the nuances of what Bruce was saying that Marinette was too tired to catch on to. 

“I’m proud of you two.” 

Then, even Marinette froze. The twins had identical expressions of shock on their faces, and Bruce finally turned around to look at them properly. For a long while, the three of them only made silent eye contact as dozens of emotions flew through the air silently, but understood. Then Damian and Marinette straightened up just and silently. Damian nodded to his father, Marinette gave him a vulnerable little smile, and then they both backed out and went to head to sleep. 

And once they were gone, Bruce sighed in content. Seems his meet-the-Justice-League plan worked out perfectly. He had finally managed to say something right to his two most troublesome children, for the first time. He leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the dark bat-infested cave ceiling as one more tiny grin played on his face, a little melancholy this time. 

Guess they never needed him to help them find their inner hero, after all. They had become even better at the whole hero thing than he was, and all on their own. Bruce closed his eyes, not noticing when Alfred draped a blanket over his body and left the Cave with a soft chuckle. 

--*--*--*--*--*

This sucked, but I wanted to give you guys something. So. here you go I guess? 

#maribat #b!dbwm2020 #b!dbwm #bio!dad bruce wayne #Platonic daminette #sibling daminette #Damian as Chat Noir #mlb x dc #ml x dc #Miraculous ladybug X DC #idk what happened don't yell at me #another one-hour fic

[batarangsoundsdumb]

yet another ask dump yeehaw!

do you ever think that jay's mother was one of those bitch who believes in horoscope and tarots and things like that and so he believes in these things too, or it is just me projecting?

sheila haywood took one look at jason's birthchart said 'nah this won't do' and left.

Wait, but what happens when the justice league does find out that Bruce and John fucked? Lmao it sounds like it would be hilarious, really, I don’t want a justice league that doesn’t make fun of Bruce for like his entire life.

barry runs out of the meeting immediately and comes back with an entire sti testing kit. diana fully seriously wants bruce to get tested while bruce is sitting there like 'come on guys, you're being ridiculous, i already checked twice'

john is standing in the corner clearly offended while bruce is just like 'don't even say anything, constantine, you fucked a shark'

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

on the one hand, good for him, on the other hand, bro, how do you still have a secret identity when your superhero name is just your last name,,,,

Your fic on ao3 was GOLD PLEASE CONTINUE I loved Dinah's cameo btw ( @purple-vixen

thanks so much! i already continued but this ask is like 10 years old because i'm a notorious procrastinator (also yes! i love dinah so much aahhhhhhhhhhhh)

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

bruce internally: holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit bruce externally: get out of my city, alien

AHHH ur multimedia fic is the only thing that brings me happiness anymore continue it forever pls

uhh thanks, but can't continue it forever because my attention span is that of a toddler on crack on a good day and i can't function without at least 10 things going on at the same time and music in the background

Oi, so I'm getting into dc and watching batman the animated series, and they use fruitcake a lot. Which I thought was very funny and wanted to share w you - Denilla

wait like fruitcake (food) or fruitcake (derogatory) ?

young justice 🤝 teen titans slut shaming batman

tim drake and dick grayson to their respective teams 'you guys stop it, that's my dad'

Happyhoganon: If an eighty year old Batman had fought crime in Gotham City for decades and the only threats to him and the city lately are a wheel chair bounded Penguin, your usual purse snatchers and a few con artists popping up every now and then, how well could the Dark Knight do in maintaining the peace in Gotham despite him being just somewhat fit to do that as an elderly man (which says A LOT given how old he is)

uhh he'll probably do what my grandpa does and that is ruthlessly prank them until they die of shame.

in the death in the family interactive movie there's an ending where Jason is tasked with raising Damian and he decides he's gonna raise Damian to take down the waynes and al ghuls which uh maybe isn't great BUT the idea of Jason raising Damian... PRICELESS. CHAOTIC. I just need more people to know about this :)

yes i saw that wow holy shit but jason would accidentally drop damian on his head one (1) hour in and jason just yeets him into the lazarus pit.

Headcanon: The Penguin has a really hard time fighting any of the Robins because of his avian obsession means there's always a small part of his mind that's like "Birb. Child. Protect" ( @subspacecadet )

as soon as dick becomes nightwing the penguin is like 'you know what, fuck this dude' and shoots at him.

Y'all talking about King Shark dating Constantine, let's not forget about John literally hooking up with Satan

listen there's a clear difference between monsterfucker and satanfucker in that king shark is literally a shark and satan still looks like a normal dude

Does everyone in Gotham think Batman is a teen dad?

everyone in gotham thinks batman has been around since gotham was founded, but they do think that bruce wayne is actually a teen father and dick grayson's biological dad.

why. why would you do that fancast when you know it will only hurt people

what? i loved my fancast it was really well done. i did it with good representation in mind and i really managed that with alfred pennyworth being ✨italian✨

Seeing james charles a jason gave me psychic damage how dare you i need to wash my eyes

well that's a you problem isn't it?

do you think dick grayson thirst tweets about nightwing just to annoy his family/cause problems on purpose in general?

he thinks nightwing is hot, next question.

holy jiminy cricket batman, its as cold as the good lords ass crack in here!!

i- what? this is why i don't fuck with english expressions it's way too goddamn weird

Brooooooo, your teen dad!Bruce au is soooo good. I've got brainrot.

Honestly if you ever write anymore, I'd read that shit twice. Sign me the fuck up. Good stuff, Good Stuff.

uh yeah i'm thinking about writing a fic, but i have exams coming up and i don't wanna fail because that would suck. but after i'll certainly be writing more tho

your teen dad AU is so great! bruce acting like a big brother for all of like a week before he's telling everyone about his son. what if in the AU dick meets the JL because they need to rescue him? maybe he's in trouble/kidnapped at a gala and bruce starts calling for JL. clark finds him and has to fly with dick to bring him home - that's how dick and clark meet and superman becomes dick's fave hero. he goes around the manor thinking he can fly with a red blanket draped around him like a cape.

actually- if you want a young dad! bruce fic with like that kinda stuff(just with damian) go check uhh- in for a penny by cdelphiki. it's really good and bruce is like 24/25-ish. (and dick's there!!!)

This account has solely convinced me that Tim is a trash goblin ( @hamilcat-and-magic-turtle )

because he is. that boy has slept in dumpsters on multiple occasions even if he is the son of a billionaire.

Okay but when you said victory dance I did think of the whole justice league defeating the big bad and then they all start flossing

well that's exactly what hal jordan does and that's why batman uses a gun now. no but the victory dance in my opinion is like the 'we're all in this together' dance from high school musical.

The horrors in Invincible s1 was nothing compared to the comics, I cant wait for s2

oh well okay, i mean i personally react to horror and violence by laughing awkwardly so i can't wait to be called a monster for accidentally laughing at a mass murder.

I'm currently watching Batman: The Brave and The Bold and- Bruce is just talking about Oliver like he's an old love (@nightwings-kid)

okay im going to watch that lmao that's totally and completely in character for him tho.

The invincible comic is like super gratuitous with its violence so much so I'm shocked the show was able to adapt it in a faithful way! Anyway had the show been live action it absolutely wouldn't have the same impact as it does as an animated show and I'm so glad so many people agree with me on that

also because a live action casting would've been like uhh amanda stenberg for amber, the dude- the guy from the supernatural but with a mustache for omni-man, and scarlet johanssen for debbie grayson

Debbie grayson is a milf, yes. You're welcome for the invincible propoganda, now you can questions your life. Bruce def seems like the perfect father next to Omni-man. Like they really took a rip off justice league and I was like well, now I'm attached even tho I was like hah I know who they're supposed to be. And then bam- death gore death gore gore gore sad Mark grayson just had to have daddy issues. Why does every character have daddy issues. I'm sick of the attacks

because daddy issues make a person arguably funnier, that's why i'm not even remotely funny (haha good dad flex). i liked that it was dark contextually, but not in the colouring, bc i hate when it's like 'uh yeah graphic murder and now a shot so dark you have to sit in a dark room and squint at the screen to faintly see the characters. (like dcau ugh)

About the Wayne insurance, for a moment I thought you would put the video with moans over the waves.

i mean- i could've done that, but rick rolling seemed more family friendly.

Its the first time in forever that im surpise rickrolled, i usually expect it. Congratulations (i really should know better this is tumblr)

i get rickrolled so often but i actually like the song so i dont really give a fuck

Actually, my information about Damian and John's kids is outdated because it was revealed that the old men telling the kids stories about the Supersons were actually Jon and Damian the whole time. I was blinded by my thirst for Grandpa!Bruce Wayne but I was wrong... I liked my version better, tbh (@artemisa97)

fair enough. but i'd honestly like to see damian and jon getting together, just because it's a really fun dynamic and their friendship was really cute when they were kids. (also idk maybe it would be nice to have one (1) main batfam/superfam character that's not cishet)

How am i JUST finding your blog skdskfkd you're so fucking funny and ur takes are hot

i thought u were calling me hot :( but youre not :( crime detected (but lmao thanks)

So I have depression and I swear that your memes are one of the few things that have made me laugh so thank you 💛🥺 (@katekanebadass)

aw you're welcome, and i hope you're doing okay!

The metropolis memes are so funny, I love them 💀😌

i think metropolis is also so fucking funny it deserves more attention imagine having your entire police force being upstaged by an alien from kansas and his kids

as an american i feel your complete lack of knowledge of us geography is just so sexy (platonic) ❤️

thanks so much (i also don't know any other geography, i'm not kidding, like you can tell me you're from hungary and it will just blank, there will be nothing that comes to mind)

In the DC universe they don't say "Can't have shit in Detroit" they say "Can't have shit in Gotham"

this just reminds me of that guy whose porch got stolen like the steps to his door, and i'm thinking of people living in gotham and waking up without a front door and going "can't have shit in gotham"

honestly all i know about chicago is the bean, so. what would gotham's famous sculpture be?

gigantic gargoyle statue in front of one of the police precincts because a villain thought it was a smart way to keep the police inside, but it's too heavy to move.

why tf do people go on about how batman "works alone" or how he's the "lone wolf" when he like 38290202 members in his family

bc people think it's cool that a grown man in his 30s has no friends or family instead of calling it what it is (sad)

Bruce is gotham's sugar daddy

why would say something so controversial yet so brave.

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

dick: gerard way are you in position, gerard way are you in position

tim: for the last fucking time, my codename is 'totally not count olaf' this week, abbafan 3000

dick: shut up my codename isn't 'abbafan 3000'

dick: it's 'abbafan number 1' and you know it

I have a feeling Tim drake is ur favourite batfamily member but okay u don't have favs if u say so ok

i mean he is, i won't deny it. but i love each and every one of the batfam just the same, i just have a weak spot for short dumbass nerds, because i'm a short dumbass nerd.

Omg i fuckin love boy meets world too fam shsjkfk

bro boy meets world was the shit!!! it was just fire and awesome and so fucking great like bro. it was so good im not even going to be accepting criticism

you know I find the whole "joker completes batman" thing a bit disgusting considering the horrendous stuff the batfamily went through because of the joker and let's not get started on the "joker has a point" thing like yeah he's this cool complex villain but he's absolutely batshit crazy

like yes! i get what you mean the joker just fucking sucks man he doesn't do shit for batman's character or the batfam he's literally just annoying as fuck. like the joker has a point' shit is so stupid. i will accept 'magneto was right' because he fucking was and i think he didn't do anything wrong, but joker? he's just like that. he's not even cool and complex he's just a weirdo with a bleach kink at this point.

ALSO YOUR RACISM POST- SO TRUE BESTIE

thanks bestie, i'm glad you agree.

in today's essay of why I think cass should become batman- I was thinking Tim would probably be the most efficient batman in many ways but I also think he wouldn't want to be batman tbh none of the batfamily members would want to be batman because they're trying to outgrow him but cass is the one who wants to represent the symbol that is batman

absofuckinglutely i will say it again and again that cass represents the batsymbol more than anyone in the batfam, in batgirl (2000) she literally didn't care about anything else than bruce's oath to not kill, she thought the batsymbol was more important than anything in gotham. she's just an excellent character because her motivation to not kill is not 'i'm scared i can't come back from it' or 'well my dad says no murder so i'll go along with it' but that she's killed somebody as a young child and she never wants to kill a human ever again and that's so fucking beautiful for a new batman like yes.

need more cass, duke and tim inclusion in gothamite memes

yes yes, a tall order of cass, duke and tim coming up in 1-14 business days

oldest to youngest batfam members cus I'm confused as shit

okay order of being taken in: dick, jason, tim, cass, damian, duke order of age: alfred, bruce, dick, cass, jason, tim, duke, damian (though cass and jason are around the same age general consensus is that cass is a little older)

I'm so confused Steph is a redhead?? like how was it that hard to get this right? the source material is literally right there and free

cw is jared, 19

do you receive anon hate? if so, how do you deal with it

uh no, i'm not remotely popular enough to get anon hate and i also don't say a lot of things that would attract anon hate, but i do send anon hate to @the-real-peter-parker because he forgot about the specialists from winx club

Wait how many languages do you speak??

uhh- 5 if you include latin, but that's a dead language and i'm really bad at it. but english, my native language, german, and french also, tho german and french not fluently.

You can mix aguaepanela with aguardiente 😈 and is tasty

okay but now i'm curious if the liquor deserves the 😈 emoji or if that's a you problem. but i googled it and it looks like something you'd take one sip of and then not remember the rest of your evening.

#i love all of you guys so much thanks for all these asks #some of these are literally from march but fuck it #the day tumblr puts dates next to anon messages is the day i close my inbox crawl into a hole and die #it's such a basic task to answer asks but i don't want to bother anyone with asks clogging up their timeline #and if i don't have a funny or good answer i'm like 'uhh okay won't answer it now then' #so this is for you #also i deleted a few asks because it gives me mental pain to see my inbox go over 50 and it's almost at 100 #i was complaining about having too many asks to the-real-peter-parker like months ago and then i had 45 asks in my inbox #now it's amassed to going over 100 twice #but no i love all of you and you're great and you're all fantastic and i lvoe you #muchos kiss kiss #kiss kiss for my kiddies lvoe you #invincible spoilers #dc #dcu #dc comics #ask #anon #bataranswers #i really wanna try aguapanela now i'm gonna see if i can find panela somewhere and review it for you babes #uh yeah that's it #muchos gracias for all your questions babes