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liquid-luck-00 · 3 years

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Where There Is Change

Overprotection

@maribat-bdbwm

First *** Previous *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~

One week.

One week without her brother is all it took to break her patience.

No, she didn’t break away from her story with the press release that happened literally two days after she started school.

No, what finally broke her was what the students did to her brother, specifically this group of five that were intentionally seeking out places she was that in order to talk about her family.

Sure, she understood why they talked about Damian, he is Gotham's Ice Prince, the person you do not want to get on the bad side of.

But moments that she wasn’t with him, people spoke awfully about him. And mostly about how he was born as a bastard child.

She pretty much assumes that when she’s not around they speak the same about her.

Both of them were conceived without his knowledge, until years later. Sure, it hurts to hear them talk about her dad like that.

But she also understands it to an extent.

Brucie Wayne, is an act he puts up. Brucie Wayne is a playboy the longer someone plays the playboy people, will come to the conclusion of him having several unknown children.

However, she also knows Brucie Wayne is a cover for her father, in the past twenty years or so since the time he pretty much became Batman, Brucie Wayne has been a cover. So much so that even the media plays into.

But what she can’t stand are the remarks her 'peers' make about her little brother, about all her siblings.

The remarks that, she is technically the older biological child. But that she still deserves a chair in the company. She is so mad that they are dismissing all of Tim's work he's put into the company. That they are dismissing her brothers just because she is the first-born biological child, that she should be the next C.E.O. People talk over him as if he isn’t there.

They talk about Jason, how he is the troubled child. That he ruins their father's name.

That Dick is just a novelty for Bruce. The first child he decide to adopt. That he’s no more than that, Bruce Wayne’s first ward.

She hates that they call Cassandra a basket case because she won’t talk.

Or how Duke is yet another charity case, simply because of his skin color.

They forget about her because she looks so American, so white, so European.

They forget that she is part Chinese, because she has such big blue eyes, fair skin, and dark black hair just like her father.

---

So back to school.

Damian was on assignment with the Teen Titans, so she was going to school alone. They said something about Damian getting an awful constant 103 fever, they didn’t want to risk anyone else to catch what he had.

So, she did what she usually did, she went outside like usual during lunch. When all of a sudden, the group of five kids in her year 'seemed' to be strolling past.

She thinks it’s still hasn’t sunk in that there’s a new Wayne. Or that they know but want to haze her. Because they are openly bashing her little brother.

"I’m sorry, but what did you just say." She stood up and looked at them.

"Well not that it’s any of your business, but Damian is such a menace, he is practically a terrorist." One of the boys started.

"Have you seen how angry he gets, I swear he could blow up the school, and he’ll still get let back in." A girl butt in.

"He’s already been expelled twice, but they keep letting him back in because he’s Bruce Wayne’s son." The final boy spoke rolling his eyes and she lost it.

She grabbed him, pulled him towards her, gave him a quick punch in the nose. Forcing him to reel back stumbling away from her.

"Let’s get one thing straight." She spoke, hands clenched in fists. "My baby brother isn’t a terrorist. He may be a menace, but he’s not a terrorist. Can any of you actually tell me the reasons why he got expelled."

Silence, pure silence was heard from the entire group.

"No, you can’t. Because like you said it’s none of your goddamn fucking business." At this point her French accent was slipping into her words, because she was getting really mad. She had to physically dig her nails into her palms to stop her magic from exploding.

"So why don’t you all just mind your own fucking business and maybe pay attention who you’re talking about, around who."

The entire group turned and ran, their tails between their legs and they scrambled to get away from her. She may have been known as the approachable Wayne between the two twins, but they messed with her brother. And they really didn’t know what they were talking about.

As soon as, the bell rang to end lunch her name came across the intercom. She grabbed her things and walked to the office knowing full well what was about to happen.

What she didn’t expect that out of all the people that would have been called the person who showed up was Jason.

If she had to cover the ever-growing grin on her face, or else the adults may have figured out that this was the wrong brother to call.

"We are so sorry to have called you today Mr. Todd-Wayne, but we have to discuss your sister’s behavior." The principal spoke as both of them sat down.

"Ok I'll hear you out, but after you explain what happened she will. And neither of you guys can interrupt the other got it. So, go." He pointed at the principle.

"Your sister has been accused of physical assault of another student."

"Is this true?" He turned to her.

"Yes." She answered.

"Why?" Jason asked as he rubbed his hands down his face.

She knows he has a shit eating grin that was slowly going to be spreading across his face, because his aura was almost giddy.

"You see they’ve not only been talking shit about Damian but Tim, Duke, Cass, Dick, and even you. If you want, I have several forms of video tape and audio proof if you’d like to see those."

"But let’s get back on point. We believe that you may have broken his nose."

"Okay, but I am not going to apologize, seeing as I was protecting my little brother, who is not here to defend himself."

She looked over to her brother and the ass had a shit eating grin plastered across his face.

"Why don’t I sign my sister out for the rest of the day, you know what, what about the whole

week, because I'm assuming suspension is an option?"

The principal however didn’t know how to react to Jason, so he absentmindedly pushed a stack of papers towards Jason and pointing to where he was to sign and initial. And then allowed them to leave.

"We’re not telling Bruce, are we?" She asked quietly.

"Not unless you want to deal with that right now?"

"No."

"Then let’s see how far we can get from Gotham."

"Yes please." She enthusiastically nodded her head, as they left the city.

~~~~~~~~~~

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animebookworm16 · 3 years

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Who Are You? - Angst

For @j3ssisam3ss

This is my angst piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25 Childhood Friends

It was the middle of winter in Gotham when she showed up. A tiny girl everyone guessed to be about three. She never spoke or made a sound, but she often smiled, even on the coldest nights. The little girl would just curl up to whoever had taken her that day and smile. At first the other homeless believed she'd never make it to spring. But the little girl was full of surprises. Not only did she survive the worst of the winter, she thrived once spring arrived.

Everyone knew she had a name, no one knew what it was, but they knew she had one. They also knew she was old enough to know it. Surprisingly, no one ever tried to give her a new name. Sure she got nicknames. More nicknames than a toddler could ever hope to keep track of, but somehow she did.

The little girl grew. As all children must. And the older children and adults always made sure to enunciate whenever she was in the area, hoping to teach her how to speak. They all banded together, like they always do for the especially young kids, and kept her away from the worst of the drugs, gangs, rogues, and the overall darkest parts of Gotham. She grew, and most people started calling her Pixie. Their little fairy caused laughter and mischief wherever she went. Even still she rarely spoke, her words as few and far between as they were, were always impactful to whoever she spoke to.

When Jason Todd started living on the street, everything changed. Pixie stuck to his side like glue. She laughed, she started talking, Pixie acted like the entire five years she had been living around Gotham she had been solely waiting for Jason to show up. The ones who raised her would have felt jilted if it hadn't been for how happy the little girl looked. Two years passed and the two ten-year-olds rarely left each other's sides.

Then Jason stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile and Pixie was finally picked up by CPS.

Pixie had to be strapped down by CPS so that she wouldn't hurt anyone. Luckily for her, a young French couple had been passing by when they saw what they were doing, and demanded to adopt the young girl. CPS didn't want to deal with the girl for much longer and agreed. When Tom and Sabine found out she didn't have a name, they quickly named her Marinette Dupain-Cheng and decided her birthday would be the same day they adopted her.

The newly named Marinette was quickly taken out of Gotham and out of the country as the couple returned to Paris.

She never knew that Jason had been adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Jason was picked up by Batman and quickly adopted by Bruce Wayne. Before long he had taken up the mantle of Robin and was fighting crime. He looked everywhere for his friend but no matter who or where he asked, no one had any idea. As the months passed, Jason lost hope for ever finding Pixie again.

He would never know that she had been picked up by CPS and adopted by a Parisian couple and taken back to Paris.

In Paris, Marinette always appeared happy, and her new parents were always busy but tried to make time for her. Marinette had taken to wandering Paris. She wanted to be familiar with her new city, even if Tom and Sabine didn't always agree with her new habit.

When she started school, Marinette stayed quiet. Friendly, but quiet. This made her a prime target for the mayor's spoiled daughter Chloe. Marinette allowed it to happen and did nothing to change the status quo. three years passed in this way until suddenly Marinette was seated next to an extremely outspoken girl named Alya, who would absolutely not stand for the status quo, so Marinette filled that space, doing what she'd always done since she'd come to Paris molded herself into what everyone around her wanted. The same day she met her new deskmate, and self-proclaimed bestie, Marinette also became one of the two heroes of Paris, fighting an emotional terrorist who thrived on negative emotions (and just being from Gotham made her a prime target). Marinette became Dame Nuit, with her partner Mister Bug.

She listened to everything Plagg told her, especially the warnings and consequences of using the Black Cat Miraculous.

For the next four years, Marinette would fill every mold she was placed in. The hero, the Guardian, the class president, the perfect baker's daughter, everything.

Then the consequences started showing up. Marinette knew she had to wrap up Hawk Moth and Mayura quickly. She started pushing it so much that Mister Bug called her out one night and in a single moment of weakness she told him what was happening. What her Miraculous was doing to her.

Mister Bug immediately wanted her to stop and let him give the Miraculous to someone else, but Dame Nuit shut it down saying that even if she stopped now, the damage was done and nothing would change that. In fact, using the Miraculous, while it had started the process, was actually slowing it down. Mister Bug cried when she told him that.

Together they redoubled their efforts to bring Hawk Moth and Mayura down. Of course, Mister Bug insisted on bringing in more permanent heroes, under the guise of keeping one of the two things Hawk Moth was after out of the fight. Dame Nuit then argued that it should be the Ladybug because it's the one that can fix everything which just left them going in circles. But even still she conceded to his request for more backup.

Within six months, Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur had been stripped of their Miraculous and Paris was free to feel their emotions once more. All the Miraculous were returned and Marinette and Adrien revealed their identities to each other.

Adrien stuck to Marinette's side and became an unofficial brother. He helped her as the build-up of chaos in her soul took a physical manifestation, and began to destroy her

A year after Hawk Moth's defeat Marinette's entire class was granted a trip to Gotham City.

Marinette would have laughed at the irony if she didn't know it would probably be the last place she saw. It was strangely comforting to know that the city that held her most precious memories would also be the place that would hold her last.

In Gotham, Jason grew into a young man. He discovered the woman he thought was his mother wasn't. He tracked down his real mother, then got beaten half to death by the Joker only to be blown up by one of Joker's bombs.

Jason died.

Then Jason was revived by the Lazarus Pits and trained by the League of Shadows. He grew to hate Batman and wanted nothing more than to see the end of the Joker.

Years later, Jason would return to Gotham only to find he had been replaced and that the Joker was still running free, and alive. Jason tried to kill the new Robin, a kid named Tim Drake, Batman, and the Joker. He managed to end none of them.

Bruce convinced Jason to stick around and one thing led to another and Redhood became part of the Batfamily patrol rotation. He doesn't stay in the manor but he does drop in at least once a month for family dinners at Alfred's request. On the weekends, Jason would take Tim out and teach him how to spot a sniper, an assassin, what different guns look like when someone is trying to hide them, and most importantly, how to defuse a bomb. It becomes a bonding time for the two, but Jason still calls Tim 'Replacement' but now as a term of endearment.

He never forgets Pixie and she is one of the few things that kept him sane during the worst of the Pit Madness.

Then Damian shows up and Jason has no idea how to deal with the tiny Demon Spawn. It's rough going for a while but they all found their ways of bonding and before long they are one large dysfunctional family.

When Jason turned eighteen, he, Dick, Tim, and Damian welcomed a French class to Wayne Industries for a week-long tour. And that is where he thought he saw someone he would never see again.

Without his permission, Jason called out to her, "Pixie?" It was barely a whisper, but she heard it.

Her head whipped around and she stared at him, "Jason?"

He wanted to say it was a happy reunion. And it kind of was. They hugged. Her class and his brothers stared. Then the tears started. Pixie was smiling but tears were streaming down her face.

One of the other students came over and asked her in French if she was okay. Pixie shook her head and the blond boy asked if there was somewhere she could rest. Jason offered to show them a room. The three of them sat in a quiet room as Pixie cried. She kept leaning into Jason and he wasn't about to stop her. After who knows how long, Pixie dried her eyes and haltingly told Jason what was going on. She told him, how she'd been adopted and went by Marinette now. How she was dying and no one besides Adrien, the blond, knew. How she probably wouldn't make it out of Gotham.

Jason's first reaction was to want to hurt something. His second was to hold Pixie as close as he could and never let her go. Jason cried.

For the rest of the week everywhere that Pixie went, Jason was close behind. The other Waynes noticed and on the fourth day of their stay, invited Pixie and Adrien to join them for dinner.

There, a not-so-subtle interrogation went down, asking Pixie how she knew Jason. At which point, even Pixie's failing health allowed her to spill so many childhood stories about Jason that even they couldn't resist her knowledge. In return, Jason told Adrien stories he had collected about her as a toddler and little kid. It was the brightest smile Adrien had ever seen on Marinette, and the first real smile Pixie had given Jason all week. He could almost pretend that she wasn't dying.

After dinner Pixie said, "Jason, did I ever tell you about the dream I've had ever since I was a little girl?"

"What dream Pix?"

"I've always wanted to stand at the very top of the Wayne Industries building at dawn, and feel the wind at the top of the world."

"Really?"

Pixie smiled a soft sad smile, "Yeah. Do you think we could do that tomorrow?"

Jason suddenly realized what Pixie was talking about, and had to fight a lump in his throat to answer, "Yeah. Pix. Yeah, we can do that."

Adrien and Pixie stayed the night that night. That morning at about three, Jason woke them up and took them to the top of Wayne Industries. Pixie stood as high up as she possibly could. Adrien and Jason watched her with tears in their eyes. Before long, they were joined by Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin, who all wanted to make sure she wouldn't fall. Jason didn't have the heart to tell them they couldn't stop what was about to happen.

As dawn started to creep up on them, Adrien broke down sobbing, begging Marinette to fight a little longer. When the light hit her head, Marinette closed her eyes and smiled. They all saw her start to fade.

Her hands went first. Like dust. As the light increased so did her fading. Before she faded completely, Pixie walked towards them a peaceful smile on her face. Jason was crying now too. His Pixie looked like a ghost.

And as she faded completely, everyone on that roof heard her say, "My name is Jeanette. It's so nice to meet you!"

#Maribat #Maribat Fluff and Angst April #Platonic jasonette #Angst

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flying-nightwing · 4 years

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Damn Him

Hi, this is average af but I needed to post something. You’ll probably be disappointed lmao. Anyway, enjoy some Dick Grayson content!

More on my masterlist, pinned as a top post!

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

Word count: 4798

Warnings: None

Summary: Dick Grayson never seems to say the right thing around you, and it’s not quite for the reason you initially thought

You looked up from your book when your cellphone vibrated on your desk beside you. You were in the midst of studying for your last exam of the semester, so you had your phone on a strict do not disturb schedule, which meant it remained on 24/7. Your notifications were blocked for any social media, text or calls you might receive, well, except for your one emergency contact: Bruce Wayne. He knew he was supposed to contact you only if he had no other choice but ask for your help, and never had he even used that card ever since you knew him. Reluctantly, you put down you book and marker to switch them for your phone. Turning on the screen, you ignored the various hidden notifications, focusing only on the single line that stared back at you.

Call me when you can - B.

Sighing, you unlocked your phone and pressed the contact name, then the phone icon next to it. It rang twice before Bruce picked up.

"(Y/N), how are you?"

"A bit stressed out, but it could be worse" You replied truthfully. "What's up?"

"I hope you know I wouldn't do this if I had any other solution" He began. "But I need your help on a recon mission, almost all my effective got busted last night"

"Oh my, are they okay?" You frowned with concern, even if he couldn't see you.

"Yes, don't worry" He said, "I'll explain in person, that is if you agree to come. I'd understand if you refused, though"

You rubbed the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes for a second. You owed a lot to Bruce, and since it was a simple recon stakeout, you could take one or two nights off to help him out. You were already ahead of schedule in your studying and confident in your knowledge of the material.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be there" You finally answered. "What time do you want me over?"

"As soon as you can"

"Aight, see ya"

You hung up the phone and put it back on your desk, observing it for a second. It had been gifted to you by Bruce after you began going on missions more regularly with the batlings, he said that way he knew for sure all communications would be secure and sheltered from hacking or government surveillance. You had to admit, having an encrypted phone was pretty neat, as it ran entirely on Wayne Enterprises servers and networks. The simple thought of not having to suffer through youtube ads was satisfactory enough on its own to justify the need for it, even if you didn't join missions as much as you used to.

You finally stood up and went to change from your yoga pants and loose tank top to black jeans and a sweater, then jumped in your car and drove to the manor. You punched in your code at the gate and took the right to the garages, where you entered a second code to open the doors. Your car was several notches under those parked there, but you had to have something less flashy as not to attract too much attention. Still, it was more than a majority of college students even had. You had to thank Bruce for that too. He wasn't your adopted father per say, since he found you a few days before your eighteenth birthday, but he still acted like a guardian and mentor for you.

You jogged down to the batcave, where you instantly spotted a chatty blonde sprawled in a seat, making wild gesture. She sprung up straight at the sound of you coming in and her face split in a wide grin. She jumped on her feet and skipped toward you.

"Hey giiiiirl" She drawled out excitedly. "Long time no see!"

"Hey Steph" You chuckled, going for the hug. "Sorry I didn't call, I have no excuses"

"Don't worry about it" She waved off with an airy laugh. She knew how busy school kept you, and how you kind of wanted to separate yourself fromthe vigilante life. "I'm just glad you're here"

"So am I" Bruce called from the computers. He gave you a subtle smile, and you nodded back to him. "It seems like we're in a bit of an impasse here"

You didn't miss the quick glare he sent to Tim and Steph, who sheepishly avoided looking back at him. It didn't seem too serious though, or the air would have drastically changed.

"Before he says anything, know it wasn't our fault" Steph hurried to say.

"We were totally ambushed by Vicky Vale" Tim nodded along."No idea what she did there, but she was, and she saw right through our disguises.We had to bolt before she exposed us"

You frowned in confusion. "Okay can someone tell me what is going on here?"

"Tim and Steph were supposed to go undercover and cozy up with the high leaders of what I have suspicions on good authority are transiting premium grade opium into the US and Europe, and are close partners to Count Vertigo" Bruce began, already exhausted. "But as they said, Vicky Vale was somehow invited to the banquet and singled them out immediately before they could get even near the big guys"

"My magnificent blond mane attracts way too much attention, I'm afraid" Steph sighed sadly, making you chuckle. "It's a curse, babes. I tell ya"

"Keep telling yourself that, Stephi" A new voice came from the top of the stairs. You both wanted suddenly to go back to your books as a big part of why you barely tag along on missions anymore skipped down the stairs. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. "We all know covert missions are not your strong point"

"I'm gonna kill you in your sleep, Grayson" She smiled sweetly at him.

"No, because you suck at being subtle" He returned the grin, just as sweetly if not more. He ruffled her hair as he passed by. "What's up Timbo"

He hummed something unintelligible, flipping his brother off. Dick laughed, then almost added something when he finally noticed you. His laughter died down and his eyes widened, and suddenly he looked uncomfortable. "Oh, you're here"

"So it seems" You replied as flatly as he spoke. It wasn't new, you had never known how to act around each other. Did you hate him? Of course not, you had absolutely no reason to. Did you consider him your friend? Hard to say. All you knew was that any and every encounter you had with Dick Grayson was awkward. You got along with Tim just fine, and even Jason when he was still around. You loved Cass and Duke, and you even managed to get on Dami's good side, or most of the time anyway. But Dick remained a mystery to you, one that had eluded you for years now. You didn't understand a single thing about that boy, and you doubted you ever would. You've had conversations before, loads of them, and you had no doubt he would make an amazing friend, but you couldn't seem to get past the stage of acquaintances.

Which was frankly disappointing, because you had been instantly attracted by his charms and easygoing nature when you first met. You had been drawn to him, and you couldn't try and pretend you hadn't pinned after him for the longest time. But you hit a wall when his behaviour began changing wildly around you, right around the time you slipped flirts every now and then to let him know that you were into him. Right now, you were just really over his poor attempts at pretending he never noticed it happen.

"So" Bruce spoke up, breaking the tension that had suddenly arisen in the cave. "Tomorrow night we'll have a new opening to try and get to them, hopefully without interruption this time. I've taken a look at the list, and no reporter was on it. We should be good"

"But Tim and Steph already got busted" You pointed out. "They'll know something is up if they show up again"

"That's why they will be seen at the Gotham Charity Auction at the museum" He explained, meeting your eyes. "That's why I called you up. You'll be going undercover with Dick as husband and wife"

"What?" Dick coughed almost immediately. "We're not–" He laughed nervously. "Us? As a married couple? This is ridiculous"

Your head turned sharply toward him, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Wow, thanks a lot for the vote of confidence" You snapped. "I didn't know being my fake husband was such a terrible perspective"

"No– Wait– That's not–" He stuttered, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean it that way"

"Sure" You rolled your eyes, before turning to Bruce again. He had an unreadable expression on his face, more unreadable than usually anyway. Tim and Steph stood there in stunned silence, not daring to speak up. "What's the briefing?"

Bruce glanced in between you and Dick, before looking back at you again. "Félix Lachance and Stella Gustavsson, they're the one you need to befriend. Since you're not known to the public, it'll be easier for Dick to pass under the radar and not cause an incident like last time"

"We get it, B" Tim muttered under his breath as Bruce passed you the files with the pictures.

"I need you to retrieve any information you can" He continued, ignoring Tim's comment. "Names of business partners, location of transactions, dates, anything, you know the gig. Your occupation and alias if you want one will be at your discretion, I trust you can deal with that. As always you need to be extremely careful as not to alert them, because this is our last chance to get the critical Intel we need to take this down. So I'll need you at your A game, both of you"

This was a warning and you knew it. He let you know more or less subtly to put aside whatever was happening between you and behave like adults. You straightened your back and took a deep breath, getting your head in the right mindset.

"Alright, I'll be ready for tomorrow night" You nodded as you gathered the files. "Can I stay over tonight? There is no point in trying to study now"

"You don't need to ask, (Y/N), you're always welcome here" Bruce said, a hint of fondness in his voice. He always liked having you around, he said your presence tamed the boys. You nodded and made your way upstairs, finding the room you claimed as your own for about a year, and the same you always came back to when you stayed the night.

You went to the drawers, fishing out old training clothes you had left behind. You weren't sure all those were yours, they were probably mixed with pieces you stole from Steph and Cass. In return, they probably did also steal from your drawer occasionally, balancing it all out. You were about to change into something comfy for bed when a soft knock at your door caught your attention. You walked to it and tentatively opening the door, your expression flattening when you saw how it was.

"Yes?"

"Hey um" Dick scratched the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it came out that way. I just meant that it would be, you know, weird"

You stared at him blankly. "You're not helping your case here, Dick"

"Shit, that's not what I mean either!" He hurried to say, realizing his mistake. But you were already closing the door. "Please (Y/N)–"

"Get some rest Dick" You said as you pushed the door closed. You sighed and shook your head before adding in a whisper, "God knows we'll need it"

------

You had done covert missions before, but this was the first time you were operating in such conditions. You finished retouching your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering whether or not it was more expensive than your total life income. The floor length champagne coloured dress was stunning, tailored to your form and just sparkly enough to let you shine through the design. You suspected the shoes were made especially to fit with the dress, as they resembled its lace and belt colour. You were sporting on top of that a heavy diamond necklace with matching earrings, proving the general high cost of the outfit. Your comm was carefully tucked in your ear, functional and well hidden.

"Oh my my" Steph whistled lowly. "If I wasn't dating Timbers I would date you"

You laughed. "This is the outfit talking. You haven't seen me tired and puffy in sweatpants just yet"

"Grump, just take the damn compliment" She playfully poked your exposed shoulder.

"Alright alright, thanks" You rolled your eyes. "Since it's gonna be the only one coming from this household anyway"

Steph wiggled her eyebrows. "Wouldn't be so sure about that" She said in a sing-song voice. "Your fake boyfriend may have some thoughts too"

"Ha" You snorted, walking out of your room with her following at your side. "It's good, that you're wishful thinking. The boy can't seem to talk to me without insulting me lately"

"Trust me, he won't be able to resist to this bombshell" She gestured at your form. "Dick's a people pleaser, and looking like a whole five course meal like that, you sure are easy to please if you want my opinion"

You shook your head, a small grin on your face. Steph had always been your favourite for a reason. She knew how you felt about Dick, but she never meddled. Well, not more than she typically would anyway, and not enough to cross your boundaries. And even then, she had no explanation either for his behaviour. You finally reached the foyer, where Bruce was dressed casually, sleeves rolled up and without a tie, talking to an all dressed up Dick, his hair now dark red and with almost black contact lenses. Your heels clicking on the stairs was what snapped their attention to you; Bruce nodding at his choice of dress for you, and Dick, his mouth slightly agape. You felt Steph gently but excitedly elbowing your ribs.

"Ah, (Y/N), there you are" Bruce said. "I'm glad to see the dress fits well"

"Yeah" Dick tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "You look okay"

You blinked in disbelief as you heard Steph's facepalm behind you. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose, while Bruce shook his head slightly at his son.

"Yikes" Tim made his presence known. You shared this one word mood immensely right about now. "Way to go D"

Dick cleared his throat, trying to push back the embarrassment blush creeping up his cheeks. "Uh, shall we go?"

"That would be preferable, yes" Bruce replied, making Steph choke and cover he laughter with a cough. The way he said it was clearly meant to be a jab to his son's tactless attitude. "Be careful"

"Of course" You smiled tightly and all but dragged Dick outside. You'd take one of Bruce's luxury car to get there, and it was already waiting in the driveway. Dick pressed the door button and slowly, they lifted up to let you in. You slid in the passenger seat without waiting for Dick's help and you kept your eyes on the windshield in from of you as he began to drive. The ride was silent until he decided to speak again, tentatively.

"It's nice to see you all dressed up, for once" He said, still clearly not thinking of his choice of words more carefully. "It's different. A good different!"

For once? Was he serious?

You audibly sighed. "I'm begging you to just stop talking"

"What?" He objected, confused. "What did I say wrong this time– Oh"

"Yeah" You replied, your tone clipped and dry.

"I'm an idiot" He mumbled under his breath. That you could agree on, but you didn't voice it out loud.

He couldn't pull into the driveway fast enough. You slipped on your fake engagement ring as Dick stopped in front of the awaiting valet, doing himself the same thing. You both had a recording device slipped in your clothes, and the ring allowed you to turn it on and off at will, as well as the comm in your ear. You turned both off for the awaiting scan at the entrance, as not to emit detectable frequencies.

"Ready?" He asked, and you gave him a firm nod. He got out first and rounded the car, opening your door for you as he would be expected to by this particular crowd. You took his offered hand to climb out and linked your arm to his as he gave the keys to the valet in exchange for a ticket. He left a tip before you walked inside, registering to the guest list. You passed the security checkpoint without a hassle and found yourself in the hall where the auction was held. You turned on your comm and recording device again.

"Recon first, then regroup?" You suggested in a mutter as you were both visually scanning the room.

"Yep" He replied shortly. "B, copy?"

"Crystal clear"

"Good. Let's go"

While Dick headed to the bar, you opted for the art collection on display, pretending to scout for potential pieces to bid on. But your eyes weren't on the expensive paintings and statues, but moved around the room to spot some VIP lounge or area where the big shots might hang out at. There was a room where attendees came and went, but you shrugged it off as there wasn't enough security for the profile you were searching for. You paused your recon for small talk here and there, and you were in the middle of a casual chat about painted landscapes with an older gentleman when Dick rejoined your side, handing you a drink.

"There you are honey" He smiled sweetly, his unusually dark brown eyes reflecting the light from the chandelier.

"Joey, my love, allow me to introduce you to Sir Fernand Bretworth of Essex" His alias flew out of your mouth naturally, then you took a small sip of your drink. Non alcoholic, nice thinking. "We were discussing impressionism and its influence on modern art"

You wanted to smirk at the clueless look Dick gave you. He was a prodigy in a lot of things, but art wasn't one. It was more Damian's thing, or Tim's if he tried hard enough, but definitely not Dick's. Take that now.

"Ah, yes..." He replied slowly. "Fascinating indeed"

"Alright" You let out a small, cover up laugh as your hand rested on his bicep. "My husband has little interest in art, my apologies"

"No offence taken" He chuckled. "I'll leave you two, my wife must be looking for me. An old fool like me gets easily distracted!"

You laughed along with him until he was out of earshot. Then you dropped your hand and turned to him. "Noticed anything?"

"Yeah, there is a guarded room with special access" He said as you walked deeper into the crowd not to look suspicious. "Only owned of a special pass can go in, and the guards are very thorough"

"Great" You breathed. "Now let's hope out lovebirds will come out to mingle"

"As it turns out..." He trailed off, and instinctively, you began turning your head toward where his gaze lead. He immediately redirected your head back to him with a firm, but gentle touch on your cheek. His hand remained there for about three seconds longer than necessary, until he realized what he did and retracted his arm. You could have almost enjoyed it if he didn't look like he was touched by literal fire. "Don't look"

"Sorry" You mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"... They got out, they're talking to people" He informed you, ignoring what just went down. "You go for Stella, I'll take Felix. Remember, friendly but not suspicious. Sweet talk your way into spilling the beans"

"I know" You bit back, your voice low. "Not my first mission, remember? I know what to do"

"I was just reminding you"

"Yeah, I got that" You scoffed. "If you don't trust me, just say so, it'll save you trouble of babying me"

"Come on, that's not–"

He began arguing, but you walked away before you could slip up and say his real name. It would give him one more reason to come down on you like you were a beginner in need of guidance. You were rusty, not stupid. You didn't need him insulting your undercover talents as well. You stopped in front of a beautiful emerald necklace that had a start bid of ten millions dollars and took a long sip of your drink, now kind of bummed it was non alcoholic. But that very detail was probably why you felt a presence approaching you from behind, giving you a few seconds to compose yourself and sweep your frustration under the rug.

"Trouble in paradise?"

You turned around, surprised. It looked like the voice made you jump, when it was in fact the nature of the question that threw you off, as well as the person who had spoken. Before you could ask, the Stella Gustavsson smiled warmly and nodded to where Dick had been seconds earlier.

"I saw what happened" She began, and your heart skipped a beat, hoping she hadn't overheard. "Those frustrated hands gesture are all too familiar. What did he do?"

You relaxed slightly, for now. "We've been having trouble lately, well, more than usually" You explained with a little complicit cock of your head. She seemed to get it. You, on the other hand, knew Dick was hearing everything on his comm, so you decided to go for it. "He's acting... Weird. Can't seem to talk to me without irritating me, whether on purpose or not. I'm sorry, I'm venting to a stranger, I can't imagine how it must look look like.

"Don't worry about it dear, I asked" She winked, extending her hand. "I'm Stella"

"Aleka" You shook her hand.

"Your dress is stunning, by the way!" She exclaimed. "Which designer?”

You froze for a second before shrugging. "No idea, my designer got it for me" You brushed off. "As long as it looks good, I don't care where it comes from"

"Amen" She said, taking a sip of her champagne. "Although, I need to know the name of your designer. They have amazing taste, and I'm looking for a new one for myself"

Oh shit.

"It's B" You replied instantly.

"Bee?"

"Yeah" You nodded, and she looked at you incredulously. "I mean, that's what we all call him. I'm sure he has a name, but I pay him to dress me, not to know his personal life"

"Harsh, (Y/N)" Bruce said in your ear, and you remembered he had been listening to everything. "But nice save"

She laughed, unaware of the comments from Batman himself. "That is very true. How have I not met you before? I feel we have a lot in common"

"I sincerely have no idea" You replied, adding a little gasp of disbelief.

"You're different from this crowd, I can feel it" She kept going on as you started walking side by side in the exposition room. "Everyone here only cares about petty, trivial things. You have a head on your shoulders, you're smart. Too bad your man can't seem to see what's in front of him"

You sighed in agreement to hide the fist pump of victory that threatened to come up. Just like that, you had won Stella over. "I don't know what to do about it. I've tried to talk to him, but it just makes it worse"

"But have you tried to make him jealous?" She suggested with a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "There are plenty of young men around, or older bachelors if you're into that. Flirt with them, make sure he sees you, he'll come running, take my word"

"It won't work, he's not–" Even my boyfriend, you were about to say, but you saved your fall just on time. Still, you could practically see Dick's glare in the back of your head at the almost slip up. "Jealous. He's not a jealous man, he's very confident and secure"

"What a shame" She drawled out, going for her champagne again. "Here's what you can do then. Go to him, take him by the neck and french kiss him like there is no tomorrow”

You choked on your saliva as she watched you with a mischievous grin. "Excuse me?"

"It's guaranteed to work, darling" She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. "Then you hold him off. You'll thank me later tonight when you're back at home, just wait and see"

You were about to argue some more, but her insisting stare told you she wasn't just going to let it go. So you scanned the crowd for Dick, spotting him casually excusing himself from a conversation group, going for a refill at the bar. You reached him and grabbed him by the elbow, bringing him face to face with you. You made sure your back was to Stella before beginning to explain the situation.

"I heard" He told you in a mutter, making sure his lips were unreadable under Stella's stare from the distance.

"Then you know what she expects" You sighed, slipping your hands behind his neck. "It doesn't have to be deep, just convincing. Can you do this without grimacing?"

You thought he would stumble into some weak apology, or say something clever. He did neither, instead dived straight for your lips so quickly it was you who was taken by surprise. Naturally, all you could do is kiss him back and try to keep up with him. At some point you thought he would break off, but you weren't prepared for him to actually deepen the kiss. He wasn't letting you go, and it made you dizzy in all the best ways. Let's say you were thankful for his arm around your waist right about now. Finally, you still had to breathe, so you parted reluctantly.

"What was that for?" You asked, your eyes still dazed.

"An apology for irritating you unintentionally" He grinned boyishly, for probably the first time ever directed at you. "I'm an idiot"

"Can confirm" You replied, bringing him down on your lips again. This time, it was a bit shorter, but the spark was still very much present. "You should have done this a long time ago"

"I know" He nodded, his head slightly down and his puppy dog eyes shining even underneath the dark contact lenses. "You're a bit intimidating, I didn't know how to act"

You let out a loud laugh at his confession. "You're kidding"

He pouted.

"Me?" You repeated. "But you're– You're you!"

"Well, duh" He chuckled. "You've got me all tangled in here," He pointed at his chest. "Made me nervous all the time"

You melted just a little bit at his little display, before remembering doing this was a specialty of his. You were just not used to be on the receiving end of it. "You're lucky you're cute, and that I'm already sold on you"

The bright grin returned.

"As heartwarming as this moment is, please focus on the task at hand" Bruce's stern voice echoed in your head, and you were suddenly reminded your conversation had been integrally transmitted to him.

"Right, sorry" Dick apologized sheepishly.

"See, I told you"

This time, you were taken by surprise by Stella walking on you. Even Bruce's intervention hadn't quite brought you back to reality. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. You turned around, trying to hide your flustered state and instead focusing on the tall gentleman at her side. Must be Felix Lachance, you thought.

"It works every time" She added, sipping from a new glass of champagne.

"You were right" You let out an airy laugh. "Stella, this is my husband Joey Moore. Joey, this is my new friend Stella"

They shook hands before she introduced her husband to the both of you. You already knew his name, but you both pretended you didn't for the sake of your covers.

"Nice to meet you two" Félix smiled politely.

"Hey, would you like to go for a drink after this?" Stella asked. "I sure would like to get to know you two better"

Dick and you exchanged a glance, knowing you had locked the target. Acquiring intel from now on would only be a piece of cake, the base was laid for further actions. You smiled, returning your glance to Stella.

"That would be absolutely lovely"

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #batfam imagine #imagine #nightwing x you #dick grayson x you

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yellowocaballero · 3 years

Note

hi i know it's been the hottest of seconds but director's cut for the prophetic spring if you're still doing these? 👀

Sure! I’ve spoken a lot about the prophetic spring, but I’m fairly certain I could give some meta information about my intense life-long obsession with Tim Drake. Dude has been showing up in my fics since I was 14.

But actually, the ficlet I wrote ages ago might be more interesting? So here it is. Exploring a dynamic that was WAY underserved for how important it is: the Steph, Cass, Tim dynamic!

No CW that haven’t appeared in the prophetic spring, but specific mention for drug addiction and drug depiction, as well as references to molestation, abortion, torture, and suicide. Story under the cut.

Tim stared down into the toilet bowl. It was a little yellowed. He needed to clean it.

He stared at the small baggie of pills in his hand.

He visualized dropping it into the bowl, flushing it. Possibly mutating an alligator, or giving the race of mole people that lived in the Gotham sewers a nice surprise.

Tim sighed, and pocketed the drugs. Maybe tomorrow.

A month after the incident with a runaway foster kid and a, in retrospect, kind of embarrassing fake fight with his older brother, Tim got a text from an unknown number. To make matters worse, it was at an insane hour of the day - noon.

Texts from strangers were hardly uncommon. Tim had an extensive contact network, growing larger by the day, but he had set up a Google Voice on his computer so they were all routed through a program there. Being bothered at all hours of the day on his phone was hardly his idea of a good time. The only people who really had his real number were his bullshit ‘friends’ and his asshole ‘family’. He hadn’t even given his number to his ‘friends’ - he had given it to Kon under strict confidentiality, and then Kon had given it to all of Young Justice. Asshole.

405-555-1998: dropping by in three hours so make sure ur presentable :)

As Tim had just woken up, most of his brain was occupied by a single whuh?

Just as his mind swirled in sleepy confusion, his phone buzzed again.

405-555-1998: B1706XQE45

The code checked out. It was an ally, not an unknown or an enemy.

Tim groaned, covering his eyes with an elbow. He needed coffee.

****

The coffee was a new thing - rather, it was something he had drunk plenty of growing up, because there had been nobody around to inform him that coffee was bad for developing brains. Growing up completely unsupervised was probably why Tim was a drug addict now. He could totally blame this on his parents never loving him.

Not a drug addict, Tim thought to himself anxiously as the coffee sputtered into the extra large gallon pot. Just someone who...uses drugs...in an unhealthy way. Substance abu - substance user, who just used it maybe as a bad coping mechanism. Not that Tim had good coping mechanisms, but it was better than sawing off heads or becoming a drug lord. When you thought about it, it was either being a serial killer or doing drugs, so logically it means that he should do more drugs to decrease the amount of fun little murders he does -

Tim made toast.

The coffee was a new thing, because he was trying to use it to replace the drugs. He had cut back. The stupid little sorority that called themselves the Birds of Prey had been talking to him about it. He had agreed to try. It was best to set expectations low, so he couldn’t disappoint. Actually, Tim loved disappointing, maybe he should set them higher. Maybe he could make inspirational speeches about how he was a good guy now? Ha ha.

The three hours had been a deft move. The texter knew noon was his average wake-up time at best, and the three hours gave him enough time to sober up if he had been high or drunk at the time. Tim didn’t like to start popping the minute he woke up, but - well, sometimes he did. Or sometimes he was awake at noon because he had been on an all-nighter drug binge. They hadn’t given their name, either, which meant that it was somebody who he wouldn’t want to see.

He could bounce, escape to some corner of Gotham until they gave up. Except he had the sense that whoever had gone through the effort to get his number wasn’t the type to give up. Almost nobody Tim knew was the type to give up. His ‘friends’ and his ‘family’ never gave up. On anybody but him.

A voice in his head, not quite yet suffocated, sounding altogether too much like the Replacement, echoed in endless attempts to get him to come back. Oh, whatever. Kid was a try-hard. He needed better taste in made up families.

Over the next three hours, he debated his tactics. If he wasn’t escaping and the texter was playing the buddy card, then the situation probably wasn’t dangerous. He strapped in his armor under the baggy pyjamas that he never took off anyway, and spitefully made no effort to control his hair. He did put on make-up, an old hand from keeping CPS off Bruce’s trail - man, he should have pretended Bruce was molesting him, that would have been funny as fuck - to hide the bags under his eyes. No use looking pathetic.

He hid a few more weapons around his apartment. He anxiously checked his phone, staring not at the new texts but at Harley’s offer sent a week ago. He still hadn’t replied. He didn’t know what to do with it.

As if he could ever feel safe sleeping under the same roof as her?

As if he ever felt safe anywhere?

Maybe he had nothing to lose. That was the greatest part about this, the most wonderful aspect of what he had done to everybody in his life. When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. That’s freedom, or so Janis had always told him. She knew what she was about. Overdosing on heroin at 27 - that was understanding what it meant, to have nothing. To be free. He was almost jealous.

At two on the dot, a polite knock echoed through the apartment. Tim looked up from where he was relaxing on the couch, with all of the possible entry points in his line of sight. That wasn’t a knock he had memorized, and he had memorized everyone’s knocks.

Nothing for it. He’d have to get rid of them as quickly as possible. Maybe he can pull the insane sociopath schtick again; that had always been effective in ditching his parents. Tim sighed, walked over to the door, swiped his thumb against the keypad, undid the three deadbolts, and opened door only to see -

Stephanie Brown, hands propped on her hips and smiling widely. Cassandra Wayne, standing right behind her, serene as ever.

Tim closed the door - or he tried. Steph had expected the move, and the minute he had opened the door her foot had jutted out and blocked him from closing the door. Effortlessly, she wrenched it back open and stepped into his apartment, forcing him to press against the wall and scowl as insane women infiltrated his space.

“Wow,” Steph said loudly, “this place looks like a wreck!”

Tim groaned.

***

The thing with Steph and Cass was this:

How to describe it?

The sister he had never expected, the best friend he had never thought he would have. Cass was his twin, Robin’s shadow, the other side of his mountain. Bruce had adopted Cass barely five months after he became Robin, and Tim had unabashedly resented her for stealing Bruce’s attention so quickly. He had always liked her more, but Bruce had liked everyone more than Tim, so maybe it was no surprise. She was sweet, kind, gentle, and no trouble. Tim wasn’t any trouble either, but he couldn’t be the rest of it if it bit him in his ass.

Robin was the brain. Cass was the muscle. They were a team so closely linked, conjoined at the hip, that Tim couldn’t remember a patrol ever done without her. Bruce had let them start patrolling alone at fourteen (“You didn’t let me work alone until I was fifteen, and I was an assassin,” Damian had spat), and they had been an unbeatable team. Robin’s hand-to-hand was weak, but nobody ever got through Batgirl. Batgirl struggled with technical knowledge, reading and writing and investigating and chasing down leads, the only area where Tim had ever excelled. Together, they had almost been as good as Batman. Sometimes, Tim had let himself think that they might be better.

They had been so similar. Everyone had always said so. They’re both so quiet, the Justice League had said. Emotionless little freaks, the Rogues had said. Neither of them blink, their schoolmates had said. But there had been nothing to say, not between them: they could have a conversation without words, without even Sign. Cass had known every twitch of Tim’s body, had understood him down to his core. Nobody else ever had. Everybody had always called Tim inscrutable and impossible to understand - but to Cass, Tim had been an open book. She knew every inch of him. And she had loved him anyway.

And Steph! When Steph had found them when they were fourteen veering on fifteen, and from then on it was as if she had always been there. She was so big, so smiling, so much, and she had never apologized for any of it. Nothing scared her. To Tim, that was the perfect vigilante - somebody who was scared of nothing, who never hesitated, who was good.

Not even Bruce could intimidate her. When Tim was fourteen, he had thought that was the most amazing thing in the world. Bruce intimidated everyone, but Steph had just stuck out her tongue and kept badly backflipping off roofs anyway. Through twin convincing, Tim and Cass had convinced Bruce to give her a chance, and Spoiler had slot into their dynamic perfectly. She was their best friend, always.

She wasn’t good at hand-to-hand at first, but Tim had improved by then, and they could cover her. She improved faster than he had, and judging from the reconnaissance footage Tim had frantically consumed after he came back to life, she was amazing now. She was wickedly smart, practical and down to Earth. If Tim was better at hacking into a computer, Steph was the one who found the post-it note with the password stuck under the desk.

But more than any of that, she had brought the social skills. She had brought the calming presence, the sweet hand to victims and civilians, and her good humor was infectious. Steph was good with people. She was a born leader. Resilient. Brave. Everybody liked her. Everybody loved her. Tim had. She had loved him too. She could have done so much better than Tim and Cass, weird little societal rejects, but she had chosen them as her family.

It had been the three of them. For as long as Tim’s life had meaning, for as long as he had been loved, they had loved him. Tim had grown up alone, in a world of one, and they had infiltrated it. They had expanded it, and they dragged his life into more than just Tim. Into Tim-and-Cass-and-Steph. Into Robin-Batgirl-Spoiler. Into meaning, and love.

Tim hated them. And he wanted them to suffer.

“That’s the Stephanie Brown I remember,” Tim sneered, closing the door behind him. Steph had quickly thrown herself onto Tim’s couch, clearly somewhat surprised at how comfortable it was, and Cass had perched daintily on the arm. Cass had always refused to sit like a normal person - she would rather sit on the backs of sofas, or on the arm, or perched on chairs like a bird - “If I had known you were coming I would have jumped cities.”

“We would have chased you down and you know that,” Steph said cheerfully, like she said fucking everything. “Besides, if you had known we were coming you would have gone into witness protection. You’ve been avoiding the fuck outta us.”

“Wonder why,” Tim said, injecting as much mean-spirited sarcasm into his voice as possible. “I need more coffee, don’t go through my shit.”

The apartment was small, and the kitchen had a cut-away wall where he could see through into the living room. Stephanie hated nothing more than being ignored or looked down upon, and if he dismissed her and didn’t react then she’d grow infuriated with him and leave. He couldn’t fight with her, because if it came down to a battle of rhetoric or emotions she’d win single-handedly. She was so good with words. Cass...had no weaknesses.

Which was inconvenient, because it was Cass he absolutely had to get rid of as soon as possible. She was very emotional, and more than a little sensitive. Especially to rejection. If he was cruel enough to her, she’d start crying and leave. There was only one problem with that.

As he jammed more grounds into the machine he watched the girls out of the corner of his eye. They weren’t talking or whispering to each other, both fully aware of how well Tim could read lips. They weren’t even having one of those body language conversations they could only have with each other, aware that Tim could crack that too. Instead Stephanie was casually sprawled on his couch, looking for all the world like a middle aged dad watching the football game, looking around the room. Cass, as usual, was zoning out. Or, of course, looked like she was zoning out - Tim could tell that she was waiting for something to happen, and was preparing herself for it.

Shit. Tim fought the urge to gnaw on his fingernail. Cass was going to be a problem.

He risked another glance backwards. She could see him, so she knew. Fuck. He had never been on the other side of her mind reading. It was fucking inconvenient. Psychics should be shot on sight.

The coffee sloshed into the biggest cup he could find in his kitchen, and Tim began draining it immediately as he leaned over the cutaway. He kept the cup held up to his face, obscuring it. Face covered, everything under the elbows covered - best he could do without preparation.

“This little field trip sanctified by Sgt. Brother?” Tim asked, sipping the scalding hot coffee. Not hot enough. He needed - he needed - they’d see -

“We’re nineteen, we don’t need his permission for everything we do,” Steph said, amused. So she was going to speak for Cass - hardly unusual, as whenever they were all together Steph tended to be the only one who spoke - but seeing as Tim was Tim then it was definitely a strategy.

“He lets his precious baby sisters knock on the door of drug lords for fun?” Tim sneered.

“If they’re incompetent and retired, sure!”

Tim gritted his teeth. Don’t rise to her bait. Don’t. She was the best person in the family at getting a rise out of their enemies. He didn’t stand a chance.

“What do you want?”

“We thought we’d take you roller skating at the rink,” Steph chirped.

Tim stared at her.

“Or the pool,” Steph said, faux-thoughtfully. “Or just the mall?”

Fuck this. Tim headed for the door, ready to walk out of the building barefoot in his pyjamas. He tugged at the doorknob, only to find that it wouldn’t open.

Tim breathed in through his nose, then out through his mouth. There were other exits. He was not trapped. Had his apartment always been so small? He could have sworn that it was bigger.

He turned around slowly. Stephanie was grinning at him, twirling what looked like a small plastic cylinder. Tim recognized it instantly - fancy League tech. Overrides all electronic locks and controls them. They all used it to trap perps and heighten their fear tactics. Tim jammed his thumb on the keypad. Nothing happened.

Cass glanced at Steph, and made a small motion. Tim couldn’t interpret it. Why couldn’t he interpret it? Did they have a new code? It was Cass. When nobody else had understood her, Tim always had. Now they had their own language, one that Tim couldn’t interpret anymore. Tim was lost in translation, always drifting.

“We aren’t bringing you in,” Steph said, just as light as ever. No trace of pity or caution or gentleness in her voice: just relentless cheer. “Literally all we want to do is talk. Play a board game, maybe?”

Tim’s eyes flickered to the hidden panel in the wall next to him where he had stashed a gun and a sword.

“Bro,” Steph said, “you really don’t want to escalate this.”

“Do you think you can take me?” Tim asked curiously, letting his hand drift to his arm. He shook his long pyjama sleeve down to cover his wrist. “That’s pretty cute. Last time I checked, you’re the shittiest at hand-to-hand in your team.”

But Steph just rolled her eyes. Shit, wasn’t he supposed to be ignoring her? He couldn’t, not so long as she kept pushing and pushing. Not so long as she was in his house. “Leave off. Just because Jay and I are the last people in the fam who weren’t trained in Mystical Ninja Arts doesn’t mean I’m incompetent. Hands in the air, by the way.”

Stephanie was overly sentimental. New tactic. He raised his hands slightly in the air, caught reaching for the weapon hidden in his armor. “Incompetent enough to let me die.”

There. Finally. Thank god, Tim thought he was losing his touch. The muscles clenched in Stephanie’s jaw, and just a twitch of her eye - banishing a bad memory. “Everybody’s been saying you’ve turned rude. I guess you’ve just been avoiding us because you don’t want to hurt our feelings, right?”

“I didn’t remember a lot when I was first resurrected,” Tim said casually, despite the fact that he had never told anybody about the first awful six months. Something about Steph and Cass just pried it out of him, like invasive surgery. Or an autopsy. “I remember everything about those six months, though. Homeless. Practically retarded. Brain damage does that to you, you know. I lived on the streets, did you know that? It was a miracle I lived through it.” He gasped, as if he was remembering something. “I slept on 34th street! You lived near there, didn’t you? Maybe you even walked by me.”

Steph went white. Cass’ expression froze. He was pushing hard, but these two wouldn’t react to anything less. Steph could trade barbs better than he could, even now.

“It’s a good thing Talia found me,” Tim continued. “She was the only one who cared.”

That did it. Steph tensed, leaning forward, and even Cass stiffened. “Is that what she told you? How can you believe her?”

Tim just shrugged, walking back to the kitchen and hiding his body language again. He took an extra loud slurp of the coffee, just to be annoying. “Talia never lied to me. She said that nobody cared enough to save me. And guess what!”

Steph’s jaw clenched again. She was a hot head. A fierce temper, an impulsive girl who jumped in feet first and sanity second. Woman, now. When had that happened? “Cut that shit out. We all know what you’re doing. You’ve been doing it to everyone. Did you think Connor didn’t warn us?”

Snitch. Tim slurped his coffee again. “Connor’s been telling everyone to give me space.”

“Yeah, everyone but us.” She stood up now, ignoring the flicker of a frown on Cass’ face, and folded her arms. A challenge against the world. Against Tim. It didn’t matter. “You don’t believe half the shit you’re spewing. You’ve never believed your own bullshit, Tim. You’re just saying it to drive everybody away. It’s not going to work on us.”

“Why?” Tim asked innocently. “You’re too thick?”

“Because we love you!” Steph cried. Tim rolled his eyes. As if he hadn’t heard that one before. “Saving Richie proved it, you aren’t as insane as you keep pretending you are. You know what you’re doing is wrong, you just don’t care.”

“Wow, you caught me.” Tim took another long swig of his coffee. It was making his hands jittery. Good. “Local genius aware of his actions. Call the press. Call Uncle Clark, he needs a scoop.” He arched an eyebrow at Steph. She hated that expression of his - she had always found it so aristocratic and pretentious. Joke’s on her, he was pretentious. “Do you mind if I go do a line? I’m not high enough for this conversation.”

If she had told him who she was, he would have done a line anyway just to spite her, and she knew it. “You don’t want to try,” Steph said stubbornly, “but you’re trying. You don’t want to care, but you care. You don’t want to feel it, but it hurts so much you can’t bear it. You can’t get anything past us, Tim. It’s always just been us. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Doesn’t that mean -

“What that means,” Tim said, and he found the words scraping his throat. He found himself talking a little louder than he meant to. The coffee, you know. Made you jittery. “is that you should have saved me. If you loved me so fucking much, you would have been anything other than useless. You’ve always been the most useless girl in the world, Steph. You couldn’t save your crook of a dad or your junkie of a mom. You couldn’t save your baby and you couldn’t save me. You’re ghetto trash putting on airs, and everyone can smell it on you.”

As soon as he said it, he tensed. He shifted his stance, ready to throw the coffee and spill the scalding liquid on her. Obscure her vision. It would take a second for her to vault the cover, so he could duck down. From there he could get the gun, shoot the window, jump out the window. She couldn’t win. Tim had the most powerful weapon in the world in his disposal and that was his infinite, burning hate. His hate for Steph and Cass burned him to the ground, and his world with it, and he was going to burn them to cinders because he couldn’t do anything else.

But Steph didn’t move. Cass got off the sofa. She walked up to Steph, and gently pressed a hand on her shoulder. She squeezed. Steph exhaled, long and shaking, and nodded at Cass. She walked into Tim’s bedroom - hey! - and shut the door.

Then Cass stared at Tim, and there was no more need for words. Not between them.

Tim vaulted the cut away wall, aiming for her feet first. Cass didn’t dodge - that would imply that she moved like an object moved. She moved like water moved - swift and supple, with such infinite grace and precision that it was like she wasn’t human at all.

But he had gotten better. He didn’t spend two and half years trained by the League of Assassins in crochet. Tim lashed out with a foot, she dodged again. He threw a punch, she moved. He feinted, clearly leaving her an opening, and she didn’t take it.

Bitch.

Cass shoved away his coffee table, sending it skidding across the floor and opening the floor space. The rug became their arena, tight and intimate, no room for maneuverability. Tim acted and she reacted, Tim lashed out a sweep kick and she jumped over it, Tim tried to grapple and she broke his hold. She never threw him to the ground, never pinned him. She just moved.

She was good, but not good enough to toy with him and win completely. The way to win against Cass was to leverage your height - Tim was taller than he once was, although that wasn’t saying much - weight, and strength against her. A couple good hits and she was down.

The issue, of course, was hitting her.

He got a hit in. It was much easier when she wasn’t even fighting back. She rolled with it effortlessly, taking the impact to gain a little space between them. She breathed deeply, sweat rolling down her neck. Tim used to take a cold compress and press it to that neck. She used to smile at him. Thank you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass said.

“Too bad,” Tim said.

Fights weren’t like in television, long and choreographed extended scenes to entertain and thrill. When Ro - Tim was in a fight, a real fight, it was typically finished in less than a minute. The only way that a match can get long is if the other person was deliberately tiring you out - a risky strategy - or if you were of completely equal strengths with similar fighting styles. Or if it was a spar.

As Tim tried to hit her again and again, he realized that it was a spar.

No, not even that. It was a conversation.

Tim grabbed her wrist, and said: I want you to hurt. Cass broke the hold, telling him that he can’t. Tim leveraged the motion and kneed her in the back, telling her that the only goal of this fight was pain. Cass let the impact take her down to the mat, an incredibly disadvantageous position, but rolled out of the way just as Tim tried to exploit the opportunity. I’m not scared of you. Tim hit again, and again, and again, failing every time. I want you gone, Tim said, and this is the only way I know how to do it.

This is what Tim said: as much as I once loved you, I now hate you. The infinite depths of my love, my twin sister, how we moved in perfect sync. I hate it all. As much as I cared, I now hate. Feel this hate. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass said.

They moved in perfect sync, even now. Cass couldn’t predict his movements before he made them, like she used to - his training was different now, developed and refined. But Cass knew the League of Assassins too, had been trained by them just as he had, and they were written into her bones when they were only carved into Tim’s. After his third patented Talia move, she adjusted to fit his style, and their fight metamorphosed into more of a dance. Like they used to.

“Why not!” Tim screamed, the stupidest possible thing to do in a fight, but Cass didn’t take advantage of his exhale. He lashed out a fist to cover the opening, but it was lazy and over-extended, and she dodged easily. “I’m going to kill you!”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Tim desperately tried to call the green to his vision. It was so easy. All he had to do was tap into that rage. Talia had called it blood lust. Said it was normal, even good. But it wouldn’t come. Where was it? It was his only friend.

Desperately, Tim went in for another punch to the face - Cass’ jaw was the weakest part of her body, an old injury - but he over-extended again, and this time Cass took the opportunity. She grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, dropping him to the mat. She didn’t try to twist him around, instead landing him on his back. Bad move for her.

She kneed him in the chest, putting her full hundred and thirty pounds on him. She twisted his hands behind his back, pinning him, and Tim could do barely more than wheeze.

He looked at her in the eyes for the first time. They were infuriatingly calm. Her hair was tangled and clumped with sweat, but she wasn’t breathing hard. Her expression was placid and serene, as if she was watching one of her stupid fucking nature documentaries instead of pinning her brother to a hard and scratchy rug in a shithole apartment, three years after he was tortured to insanity and shot himself in the head.

So much time had passed. So much had happened, nasty and festering and putrid, and Tim had let it happen. He had made it happen. There was a rot in Tim, and it had eaten him up until there was nothing inside. If you cut him open, would it spill out? Would it infect her, infect Steph? Could he make them suffer?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass repeated. “So don’t be scared.”

“Scared?! I’m not fucking -” Tim wheezed, cut off by the lack of air as Cass pressed down.

“I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t mean to leave you alone. But I did. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to kill -”

Cass pressed down on his chest again, cutting him off. She had finally done the one thing nobody in Tim’s life had ever figured out: how to make him shut up. “You can be as mean to me as you want. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll stay.”

Tim wheezed. In that, maybe, Cass heard something, because she continued as if he had spoken. Or maybe she just wanted the chance to talk. It had been stolen from her for thirteen years, and it was valuable to her.

“You do not have to be kind. You do not have to hug me, even if I want you to. You do not have to be my brother. I know it hurts too much. But you are me. I am you. You do not even have to try for that. I do not have to give it to you. You have it.”

Tim couldn’t help it. He cried a little, and then he couldn’t stop.

Cass got off him, but she kept her promise. She didn’t hug him. She just propped him up against the sofa, holding his hand, and didn’t speak. At some point the door creaked, and he felt Stephanie next to him.

This is why, Tim thought hysterically, he had been avoiding them.

He knew this would happen. There was no hiding from Cass. There was no posturing, no pretending. She didn’t want anything from him. She never had. There was nothing he could say that would drive her away, because Cass did not listen to the words people spoke. She spoke only for clarity, when she could not afford for her words to be misconstrued, and for the comfort of others.

Cass knew that he had been lying out of his ass. Cass knew that he wasn’t as insane as he pretended, as cruel as he wanted to be.

He couldn’t make Cass hate him. Shit.

None of them said anything. Nothing needed to be said, not between the three of them. Cass might be having a silent conversation in Sign with Steph, but he didn’t care enough to open his eyes and look. When they had first met, it used to make Steph so mad that Tim and Cass were having ‘secret conversations’. She had poured over her dictionaries, learning as quickly as physically possible so she could keep up. Everything Steph had, she had worked hard for.

Steph was in college now. Premed. She wanted to be an ER doctor. Steph wasn’t a genius, she had to study hard. She wouldn’t be able to superhero in med school, so she was ready to hang up her cape for a few years until she achieved her dream. Steph said that she could do just as much good as a doctor as a superhero. She hadn’t always wanted it. When they were kids and Bruce used to ask her what she wanted to do when she grew up, in his awkward faux-dad way, she had always shrugged and said that she might be a nurse.

“Why not med school?” Bruce had suggested, between sleepy spoonfuls of oatmeal. She used to spend more nights at their place than at her own. Her mom hadn’t noticed.

Steph had just shrugged awkwardly, nibbling her whole-wheat organic toast that she would stare at suspiciously. Rich people, she would say, sighing. “I would never be able to afford it. And no way I’m smart enough.”

“You’re good enough,” Bruce said, which was the closest he ever came to praising somebody. “I’ll pay for it.”

Steph had gaped. Cass had eaten her Lucky Charms smugly. Tim had rolled his eyes. “An in-the-know doctor for the vigilante community would be invaluable,” he had informed her, pretentious and callous. “We could use you.”

“You deserve it,” Cass had signed.

“You have a bright future, Stephanie,” Bruce said, buckling under the panic of being a responsible adult. “I would hate to see you waste it.”

He would hate to see any of them waste their future. He had hated to see what Tim had become. He knew that. The last time he had ever seen Bruce, it was just to disappoint him. Bruce was the only parent he had ever had, and his standards were so sky high it was impossible to do anything other than disappoint.

The fact of the matter was this: he loved Cass and Steph more than he loved Bruce. He could hate Bruce. He could hate himself. But Cass and Steph…

Bruce had ear-marked a lot of money for Steph, both for whatever continuing education she chose and for her future. It had raised a lot of questions among the lawyer team, but ultimately she had been written off as another of his strays. Tim had left her a lot of money too. There probably wasn’t any point: when she married Cass she’d have equal access to the fortune. Rich people, Stephanie used to whisper in awe, looking at organic toast.

Cass was majoring in dance. She wanted to be a ballerina.

Tim’s future...Tim’s future…

“Or we can watch a nature documentary,” Steph said out loud. “If we all promise not to say a fucking word.”

Incredibly, unmistakably, irrevocably, Tim groaned. “Not the fucking bee one again.”

“I like the bees,” Cass said serenely.

“If you aren’t going to get out of my house can I at least smoke up?” Tim asked miserably.

“I brought gummy bears,” Steph said, chipper as ever, “which are way better.”

“I’m going to the fucking bathroom,” Tim grumbled, which everybody knew was as good as a yes.

“If you take anything I’ll know,” Cass said serenely, and also threatened.

“Fuck you, bitch.”

Steph and Cass high-fived, and Tim sulked angrily to the bathroom. He took a second to look at himself in the mirror - looking for Tim Drake, failing, as always - before opening it and grabbing his baggie of pills.

He looked at it. He looked at the toilet. He looked at the baggie.

He didn’t flush them. He put them back in the medicine cabinet. Tomorrow. He’ll do them tomorrow. Not today. He can hold out for 24 hours. It’ll be fine.

For a wild, stupid, insane second, Tim wondered if he could say that tomorrow too. If tomorrow he would look at them and say: maybe tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that…

If there was a future, for a fuck-up like him.

The faint strains of Cass’ stupid fucking bee documentary began playing through the thin walls of his shitty little apartment, and Tim turned out the lights of his bathroom and closed the door, locking it securely behind him.

#i write a lot of shit i don't post and i don't feel the need to post it a lot of the time #but sometimes im like. ah yeah that does exist maybe they'll care #my writing #tim drake #batman #batfam #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #do not FUCKING get met started on tim cass and steph im OBSESSED

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peppersonironi · 3 years

Note

12, 21, 19

(Is this late? Oops. Sorry!)

12: Favourite character to write about this year

Stephanie Brown, easy. She's my spirit animal, so I might be doing a touch of projecting, but I honestly don't care. She's just pure chaos in the best way. Some of my favourite lines that I've written are for her. Such as:

"What's up bitches? I brought donuts!"

"My waffles await!"

"FEAR ME!"

"Welcome to Steph’s Glitter Bomb Palace, Where Snitches get Stitches™! So don’t tell Bruce or I’ll sic Jason on you."

She's also the character I've gotten the most comments on. People really seen to enjoy how I write her!

A close second would be Duke Thomas. Bliss, a fic I wrote for the 2020 Duke Week, was one of my favourites! Or maybe Damian? His dialogue just comes easy to me.

21: Most memorable comment/review

the batfamily exist:

everyone: is,,is that allowed?

On Code Orange (Batfam/Young Justice Crossover)

*Or*

I have wanted to read a DCU/MCU crossover for a VERY long time. This story is such a delight. Your characterisation (and for me an introduction to The Signal) was fascinating in the extreme. I loved the game playing and the fact that I could watch (open-mouthed) as Bruce Wayne enjoyed childlike fun with his children and Alfred(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) was the cherry on top of the icing on top of the cake. I look forward to your updates in a way that you wouldn't believe.

On Batfam/Avengers Crossover

19: Any new fics to start next year

Oh boy. So many. You know what? Here's a list. It'll be good to get these ideas out. Plus, you guys can tell me what you'd rather see first!

Gen/just Batfam

Crack fic based off this piece of dialogue (came from a convo between my sister and I): Tim reached forward and poked Duke's face. "You're right!" He exclaimed. "You really *do* squish like a block of wood!" Duke Centric.

Based on THIS Incorrect Quotes. Talia moves into the Manor because she's sick of Ra's. Featuring a bunch of good mom!Talia.

Based off THIS Incorrect Quotes. Jason runs for President as Red Hood. I have so many ideas! This'll be really fun.

Loosely based on THIS post. It explores Jason and Cassandra's relationship, and how it evolves.

Duke Thomas Big Bang Fic (can't say much, but it'll be great!)

Platonic (need to be certain you understand that. There were some misconceptions w/ my Discord server) Slow Burn between Tim and Damian. At the beginning the absolutely despise each other. But over time they realise their own insecurities, and how they don't actually hate the other. And by the end they fully admit and embrace their being brothers.

Reverse Robins with Damian as the oldest (I made THIS post talking about it a while back. But I've highly revised it.)

Reverse Robins with Duke as the oldest (I wrote THIS fic, but I think I want to change this into a series!)

Cassandra as Batman. Stephanie as Catwoman. Carrie Kelley as Robin.

5 Times Bette Kane was the mastermind behind the batkids' pranks without Bruce's knowledge, and 1 Time her brilliance was brought to light.

5 Times Duke thought that he couldn't possibly get any more siblings and 1 Time he met the cousins (AKA: Duke meets the extended family)

Birdflash

Birdflash in the JL/JLU universe (based off that one hexagon by @novaviis ! Super fun!). The league is inviting potential members to the Watchtower one day. Except Wally wasn't there during the choosing of said members. So he's completely shocked when his husband Nightwing shows up. They have to act like they don't know each other, which basically involves Dick flirting his butt off with Wally, Wally trying desperately to remain professional, Bruce digging in the corner, the rest of the League in varying degrees of disapproval and confusion (at least a couple have seen Wally's wedding ring. So that adds a while 'nother layer).

Young Justice soulmate au. Dick, and eventually everyone else, knows that Wally is his soulmate. Wally is oblivious. Lots of pining and angst in this one. Slow burn to an extent (depends on how long I make it). But definitely a happy fluffy ending in sight!

Batfam Meets Young Justice

THIS fic.

Duke gets yeeted into the YJ universe, and promptly passes out. He wakes up in the Watchtower, and breaks out of the confinement the Team has set up for him. Pulls shenanigans (some unwittingly) and used his powers. The Team and JL are confused, and panicking. Because this guy keeps muttering things about the Batfam. And he has a bat on his chest.

The Team break into some ancient temple after getting info on a new Supervillian plot. They find purple clothed woman draped across a throne. She talks, and they panic, as she knows all their secret identities. The only one who isn't, is Tim. He looks bored. Alternatively: Steph needs Tim's credit card to take his sister out on a date, and absolutely refuses to text.

While the Team is on a mission to stop Lady Shiva, a dimensional portal opens up and spits out a strange Robin (Damian) and what seemed to be a female Batman (Cass as Black Bat). This new dynamic due promptly defeats Lady Shiva and all the goons. The Team is freaked out, and 'apprehends' the dimensional anomalies, bringing them back to the Watchtower. Where the due promptly break and and start chaos. Featuring "Toxic" by Britney Spears. I will not explain why.

The Watchtower gets a sudden emergency message from the Batcave. They accept, to find a stranger calling himself Signal panicking about Robin being missing. They all look at Tim, who ignores them, and says that he doesn't know where Robin is. Some naming shenanigans occur.

(Not sure if this fits here, oh well) Set in Season One, Bruce is tired of Clark's attitude towards Superboy, and adopts the clone himself. Not sure how far this'll go, but at least goes through Dick's time as Robin. (Based on THIS Tumblr post)

(Also iffy on placement) a continuation of one (not sure which? Probably Damian as older) Reverse Robins fics. It's a retelling of Season One of YJ, with Dick as Robin. Nightwing (Damian) feels protective of his brother, and so takes on the role Black Canary had in the show, training the Team. But as time goes on, he ends up being more of a big brother to the group. Cameos from the rest of the Batfam as well! And an Identity Reveal (including finding out Dick and Dami are brothers) at the end!

Batfam Meets the Justice League

Cass takes over being Batman for a bit, because Bruce was an idiot and broke his leg. This happens to line up with when the Justice League reach out to the Dark Knight, in order to extend an invitation to the league. They eventually meet Bruce as Batman, and are confused as to why he is so tall. And male.

Joyfire

Lian accidentally reveals her three parents' relationship by calling Bruce 'grandpa' over dinner.

Museum Heist

THIS fic

Operation: Seduce Nightwing. Based on a post for an ATLA ot3, Wally and Artemis realise silumaneously “Hey, we kinda have the hots for Dick” and decide together to see if he likes them back. Which involves a heck ton of over the top flirting, and shenanigans. The Team is sighing on the sidelines at their idiocy. Dick is internally combusting and thinking “Do they like me back? I’’m not sure.”

5 times Dick and Wally fought over being the middle spoon, and one time Artemis had had enough.

Set in Season 3 (but ignores some canon), Bart is kidnapped by some mad scientist obsessed with the Speed Force. The Team mobilizes, and gets Bart back from the evil base. But when they get there, they find Wally West freed from the Speed Force. He and Artemis reunite, and everyone is happy. They prepare to leave. Then the Pick-up Squad arrive in the bioship, and Dick gets out. Everyone is expecting Dick to give Wally a hug, because hey, he's his best friend! What they weren't expecting was him to run forward and pull the speedster into a passionate kiss. They go back to the Watchtower, and some more stuff happens.

Soulmate AU where the first thing your soulmate says to you after they fall in love with you is tattooed on your body.

Post Season Two Get Together. Starts with Artemis living with Dick as opposed to Will. Might be Slow Burn? (They come pretty close to kissing) Eventually Wally comes back. Arty and Wally are back together. They both live in the same house as Dick, for convenience. Then some more Slow Burn happens. Maybe some Birdflash moments. Arty tells Wally she kinda had a thing for Dick. Wally admits the same. Maybe a touch more Slow Burn. They Eventually get together.

Batlantern

AU where Bruce met Hal back when he first came back to Gotham. Fic goes through how their relationship evolves over the years (up until current time, when Damian is 13). I'm considering a relationship reveal with the Justice League.

Hal's interactions with Bruce's kids.

Green Lantern Corp acting protective of Hal when Bruce comes to Oa. This was an ask that I got, and I'm holding off on writing it till I get as much into on the GL's as possible, as all I know if their characterization comes from that animated series, and Guy Gardener's (Hilarious!) parts on Young Justice.

Marvel

Like 3 different versions of the Peter Parker Field Trip to Stark Tower Trope.

2-part Crossover with the Batfam (they exist in the same universe), where the Avengers go to a Wayne Gala, and interact with the family. The second chapter involves them heading out the next night to try and contact Batman.

THIS fic.

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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

Text

Lasabrjotr Chapter 79: The Rites of Blood and Knowledge

Chapters: 79/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg 13(Blood)

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),Thor(Marvel) Wanda Maximoff, vision, Bruce Banner

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Party Time, In Reference To Blood Mixing Mentioned In The Eddas

Summary: The great ceremonies begin.

The dreams were powerful that night, whisking you off to far away places, off to the increasingly familiar form of the gargantuan space artist. There was a strange nostalgia out here that you were slowly coming to recognize as being not your own. How could it be? You had never physically been here, only visited in dreams.

With green and blue sparkling at your right and left, you drifted along in their orbit, yet another asteroid in a primordial star system.

First Wielder.

The concept filtered through your mind, trailing a warm and wistful longing behind it.

Peace. Eternity. Creation.

Before battle. Before separation. Before imprisonment.

Before all.

The star system was strange: every time you came here, the sun was a little different. A variable star, its brightness oscillating, it was still young and new.

There was only one planet in this system, located fairly close to the star. The presence of the colossal giant perturbed the asteroids and gas around the star, but their great mass prevented them from coalescing.

Comets formed in great numbers from the gas and ice beyond them, whizzing past them, inspiring new drawings. Asteroids clumped up against them; a brush of their great hand sent them flying, to collide into one another, to spin away from their unstable orbit, and join the comets on their cross-system journey, to crash into the singular planet.

The colossus watched with the patience of true immortality, as the planet burned and erupted, filled up with water, and clouds, and sky.

Thoughtfully, they regarded an asteroid they held in one hand, then, with their color-stained fingers, they began to draw.

The wistfulness and regret reached their peak, and you woke up in the empty bathtub, with a thought ringing in your head.

The Wielders always came to a bad end.

******

Loki was somewhat disgruntled to discover that you'd been having these dreams without him. He didn't scold, but his concern was clear. You described them in as much detail as you could, but, to your dismay, he didn't have any explanation for what you'd been seeing while you slept.

It would just have to remain a mystery. The upcoming day was going to be far too busy to dwell on it.

Both you and Loki had dressed in your absolute finest, your armor polished bright, your skirt covered in embroidery, your chest and neck festooned in beads of carved gold and pearl. You still felt a little bit like you were so buried in finery that you became invisible, but you tried to carry it with pride. All of this had been put together especially for you, and that hard work deserved to be shown off.

Loki was so magnificent in his fur-trimmed cloak, and elaborate helmet, you had to firmly tell yourself not to spend the whole day just staring at him all moon-eyed.

Maybe just a few hours.

Today, the Second Feast, was really the main event, as far as this Buridag was concerned. At noon, you would participate in the Blood Taking ceremony, wherin you would 'mingle blood' with the royal brothers, in order to be formally adopted into Asgardian high society. This would cement your status as high enough to advise Loki as one of the most important members of his personal entourage. And before the evening feast, you would perform the ritual that would confirm you as an official Seidkona.

But before that, you would have the time to run around and enjoy the festival.

It was set up like a combination job fair and reenactment fest. Stalls lined the streets and filled courtyards, peopled by the crafters of Asgard. Smiths, armorers, and carpenters, goldsmiths, lapidaries, scrimshanders, and glassblowers. Weavers, spinners, leatherworkers, and dyemakers, artists, musicians, chefs, academics, mages, stonemasons, construction workers, scribes, dancers, and cheesemongers. All the sights, and sounds, and scents, and flavors that made up Asgard were being demonstrated and celebrated.

Your Father and Tara joined you in the streets, and Loki reluctantly released you into their care, having some preparation left to do.

Tara, flouncing around in an apron dress and domed brooches very much like your usual style, gushed over how beautiful you looked, and your father, rather sheepishly dressed in an Asgardian greatcoat and cowl, agreed openly.

“You look like a princess.” he said. “A real one. You...You walk different now. Talk different. You look so strong.”

“Is it me, or are all these people following us?” Tara asked, not very quietly. A few chagrined people in the crowd that flowed in your wake down the street peeled away, and wandered in different directions. The rest either had less shame, or had orders to keep watch over you.

You spared the group a glance. There appeared to be a solid mix of Asgardians and humans, several of which had their phones out. You surmised there would be a new wave of photos of you on the internet over the next few days.

“Keep your cowl up dad.” You advised.

“Want me to run them off?” he offered.

“Nah. I don't really mind if they take pictures of me. Can't really hurt anything.”

“Wasn't so great last time.” Tara pointed out. “I spent a lot of time stanning for you.”

“Well, last time was sensationalized bullcrap. This time is a nice festival. I mean, check out that guy!”

That Guy was a glassblower in his stall, spinning a huge, bubble thin amphora of rose pink glass. You had seen its like before, but never seen one made.

“Oh, they age crystal mead in those! The pink lets in the right wavelengths of light that give it it's shimmering quality.”

“What's crystal mead?” your father asked.

“Don't try more than a few sips, if anyone offers.” you warned. “Asgardians have iron guts. Their booze is way too strong.”

“Yeah, they warned us about that on the plane.” Tara said. “And yesterday, it looked like they had everything divided up by species, so no one got the wrong thing.”

You took them around to various demonstrations: spinners spinning yarn, brewers preparing several of Asgards many alcoholic beverages, apothecaries showing how basic medicines were made, a cobbler putting together a nice pair of boots.

“So, Asgard's really advanced, right?” Tara asked. “Why is everything like Ye Olden Times?”

“Asgard's never had that big a population, even at it height. There just isn't that much demand for mass production. Most things are bespoke, or self-made. Quality depends entirely on the maker, so that, of course, becomes a competition. And that, in turn, becomes a matter of cultural pride. Also, they have thousands of years to get good at what they do, so Asgardian made goods are super high quality, and they judge personal worth by that. I don't think they'll ever automate; it would go against a lot of what they stand for.”

You snagged the three of you a traditional Asgardian snack; fat sausages, wrapped in savory pastry. You thought it might be good to have something else in your stomach before the first ceremony.

Tara called them Asgardian corn dogs, which you couldn't wait to share with Loki, if only to watch his nose wrinkle with disdain over the undignified term.

“So when do we have to let you go?” Tara asked.

You checked your phone for the time, stuffing the last of your sausage into your mouth.

“Eh, I've got a few minutes left. Better start heading over though.”

Your winding path through the courtyards took you past minstrels, impromptu dances, and games, to a large, tall dais that had been put together as a temporary mirror to the throne room. It towered over the City Hall courtyard like a ziggurat. You'd be up there soon enough, but currently...

“Who's that?” your father asked, pointing at a man standing at the top. “Doesn't look like Thor.”

You squinted up at the figure, his bright armor shining in the rarefied sunlight.

“Ah, That's Heimdall. He's the Guardian of Asgard, and god of...uh, sight? I think? Vigilance? It's not quite that neat and simple, you know? The whole 'God Of' thing is a bit more complicated than that.”

“So that's a god?” your father asked. “How can you tell? Are they all gods? What does that even mean?”

“All good questions. Mostly because they are very hard to answer.”

Your father and Tara jerked at the sudden new voice, and, not for the first time, you found yourself amazed at how easily a man of the sheer size and importance as the king of Asgard could sneak up on people.

“Your Majesty.” you said calmly, inclining your head. Your father and Tara dipped into awkward bows, a little awed by the mythical figure before them. Thor didn't necessarily demand obeisance, but he didn't exactly discourage it either; he let people act as they felt appropriate.

“Not every Asgardian is a god.” Thor explained. “Those that are go by the term 'Aesir', a common name through most of the realms for beings of that type. You are born Aesir; you cannot become one by outside influences. However, Aesir nature doesn't always become apparent at birth, it often doesn't manifest until adolescence. As for what it means to be Aesir...that doesn't have so straightforward an answer. I leave it to the philosophers, who, incidentally, are in booth seventy-eight.

Anyway, I have come to collect your daughter for the ceremony. There isn't much time left, so we'd all better get in place. If you go through those two poles there right now, you can get very good seats.”

“This could get a bit weird.” You warned. “It's a ceremony more ancient than any recorded human practices, so it's probably going to seem archaic.”

“Oh, it's not so bad.” Thor said. “It's been updated and refined over all those years. For instance, everyone remains clothed now, and there are at least seventy percent fewer entrails used.”

Your father coughed, and you rolled your eyes. Thor's sense of humor was difficult for you to understand, considering how serious he was about everything. The thing about Thor's jokes was that he might have been joking about something that had really happened, or he might have been joking about something he'd completely made up, but he would never specify which.

“On that note, I've got to go.” you said. “Entrails to sort, and all that.”

Your father coughed again, Tara patting him compassionately on the back.

“Good luck!” she called to your receding back.

******

“Now, you've been fully briefed on what will happen during this ceremony, correct?” Thor asked, as the two of you loitered near the back stairs of the temporary dais. People were filtering in to seats and standing room around the courtyard, waiting for things to start.

“I think so.” you said. “If I've got this right, there's going to be a special dance-”

“The Alignment of the Celestial and Worldly bodies, yes.” Thor said. “It symbolizes everything that must come together to bring the 'adoptee' to the greater 'family'. In this case, it will tell the story of how you came here to join our family.”

A soft warmth crept up your neck, and heated your ears beneath your helmet. You knew it was all socio-symbolism, but the notion of 'joining the family' hit differently now that you were on intimate terms with Loki.

“And then all the braziers will have some kind of incense thrown in, and in the smoke, we'll all go up the stairs like we're magically appearing. Honestly, it sounds like it'll look really cool.”

“All ceremonies contain a bit of theatrics.” Thor agreed. “Perhaps that is the most important part. Or that's the part that makes it important. I wish we still had some of the traditional ceremonial incense, but we just don't have access to the materials anymore. You would have liked it; it was much more floral than most of what you have here. We did manage to get some lavender though. That should be nice.”

“Maybe one day, when the Bifrost is more stable.” You said. It did sound very nice. “Loki said that you, and he, and Heimdall will sing a blessing song?”

“Yes, a divine blessing from a trio of Aesir. It's got to be three. And then...”

“Yeah. And then.” Loki had told you about the bloodletting. He had been very frank about it. “I know. I'm nervous, but not afraid.”

Thor nodded. “Sometimes there are unforeseen effects, but never anything bad. You'll be perfectly safe.”

“I know. The nervousness just comes from knowing it'll hurt. Even if just for a short time.”

You buckled under Thor's hand when it came down on your shoulder, enveloping the whole thing.

“Loki would rather slice out his own guts than draw your blood, trust me. He's been trying to figure out how to get around it for weeks. Unfortunately, the blood is the most important part of the magic. It carries all of the power. It's very old magic: according to him, this is practically the only part of the ritual that has remained unchanged from the beginning.”

“Did there really used to be entrails and naked people, or was that a joke?”

“Ehhh, well, yes and no. This ceremony originated with the Vanir, and they are not opposed to nakedness under certain circumstances. In this case, everyone who attended was expected to leave the clothes they came in at the door, and wear a special loincloth instead. This was actually to prevent violence, by barring hidden weaponry from being brought to ceremony grounds. So rather than pure nudity, everyone was dressed as scantily as was possible.

As for entrails...unfortunately yes, that was also a part of it. A seer would perform a divination using the entrails of a slaughtered animal. That practice was going out of fashion, even before the war, and I don't think anyone today even remembers how it was done.”

You shuddered. Yes, it was a different culture, and a long time ago, but it still grossed you out.

“I'll have to remember to thank Loki for trying to get me out of it, even if he wasn't successful.” You said. He really did put in a lot of effort behind the scenes. If only he were more open about some of that effort, so you could appreciate it more.

“He was adamant about the bull.” Thor said. “Demanded a private ritual the night before. Put your helmet up on the pillar, then sacrificed and butchered the beast himself. Insisted on it. Did our ancestors proud, but you know he knows his way around a knife.”

“I wish he'd told me. I was really stressed about that whole thing. I'm glad, in the end, that he was thinking of me, but I really wish I'd known. I wouldn't have lost so much sleep!”

“It was a little last minute.” Thor admitted. “I approved it the instant he explained, but we had to do it pretty much immediately afterwards. He really should have told you, but I fear my brother is usually more invested in the making of plans, rather than what to do once they come to fruition. I feel you will be a positive influence on him, though.”

Even though he was wearing his eyepatch, rather than the mismatched prosthetic, his one blue eye was open and sincere.

“I think so too.” you said. You already were influencing each other. It was impossible to live so close, to sleep in the same bed, without doing so. But Loki did have a bad habit of assuming things, a by-product of his upbringing as a leader, you supposed. You would simply have to speak up more.

Perhaps you had gotten too comfortable. But perhaps you wanted to be too comfortable. It might be a holdover from your year of struggle, but having someone who wanted to do so much for you was very tempting. You knew it would be better to strive for a balance, but you also knew that, unless Loki somehow diminished himself severely, the two of you would never truly be equals.

But you admired that greatness, and somehow, those all too common flaws in him made him easier for you to love. They made him so real.

An ambling drum beat started up, accompanied by the brassy ting of zills, and a flute. Loki joined you and Thor in peeking out around the dais, just as a group of dancers spread out around the courtyard.

You'd been told that the dancers represented personages from history and legend. You were pretty sure that the three women who orbited the dance stage equidistant from one another must be the Norns, and you assumed the cluster of people standing beneath a glittering tree branch and clanging their zills were probably meant to be the ancestors of the royal family.

The dance told a story of a woman dressed like you, and a man dressed like Loki, wearing silver bells at their wrists and ankles that jingled with every step. They made everything look so much more graceful and sensual than it really had been: Holding hands like the rune branding had been on purpose, dancing circles with each other, like everything had been friendly and not at all awkward from the very beginning. How elegantly 'you' swooned into 'his' arms, while the assassin was caught. How triumphantly 'you' defended 'him' against the Huldra. And how beautifully 'he' clasped 'you' in a romantic, yet properly chaste embrace.

There was none of the blood, none of the fear, or anger, or petulance, or confusion. No loss, or loneliness, or uncertainty.

But that was how it worked, wasn't it? None of those things could be shown to the general public. This was ceremony. This was spectacle! This was what would be remembered.

The pair danced away, out of sight, the ancestors retreated, and the Norns raised their arms in unison. All around the courtyard, attendants dumped incense into the torches and braziers, sending thick smoke and mysterious perfume wafting over the entire area.

“Show's on, darling.” Loki said, grasping your shoulders, and leading you up the stairs. A new wave of anxiety washed over you as you rose above the sweet smelling clouds like a legend. Heimdall stepped aside to let you pass, Loki and Thor leading you right up to the edge of the elevated platform, where waited a podium, upon which rested a brass bowl. An unfamiliar rune was stamped on its bottom. So that was where the magic would happen.

Thor held his hand out over an unlit brazier just in front of the podium and concentrated. Scarcely a moment later sparks danced between his fingers and jumped to ignite the fuel. The light illuminated the clouds of incense, obscuring the audience. Cut off thus from every other person out there, you didn't flinch as the trio of gods each placed a hand on you, and began to sing.

You couldn't help but wonder if they had done this before. It was a complex song, with rising and falling harmonies, parts layered over one another, something that couldn't have been easy to learn. As their voices dipped and flowed, you felt the power rising, just like out in the camp, months ago. Why could you sense divine power? Was it because of your magic? Was there anyone out in the crowd that could feel it too?

Thor's good eye had begun to sparkle with crackling white energy, the power of the blessing he was singing into you. You assumed Heimdall, behind you, was lighting up orange, and when you turned your head to glance at Loki, you were suffused with the gentle glow of the blue light from your dreams.

All of the anxiety drained out of you at the touch of that light, your arms dropping to your sides as relaxation took over.

Everything was all right. Loki was right beside you. Thor and Heimdall were with you, their voices reverberating through you, their blessing upon you. The rare winter sun filtered down over you like a blanket, as the last notes of the Aesir's song filled your head.

Loki gently took your hand, gazing earnestly into your face as the calming light faded from his eyes.

“Forgive me, my love.” he whispered.

A sudden, painful jab, ripped you out of your cocoon of sunny calm. With a sharp cry, you turned to stare at your fingertip, pierced deeply by the tip of one of Loki's knives.

Loki held your hand over the brass bowl, letting the blood drip, enough to cover the rune at the bottom. Then he tenderly bandaged the tiny wound, lines of regret around his eyes. Thor held his hand out for a slash, and then Loki turned the blade on himself. Blood slowly filled the little bowl, as a light throbbing started in your head. Every drop that rippled its surface was like a giant heartbeat within you.

Once it was full, Thor and Loki began singing again, lifting the small bowl between them. They held it up to the sun, and then poured it onto the burning brazier. The fire sputtered, sizzling, sending a huge cloud of smoke directly into your face. You gagged on the scent of burning blood, practically bathed in it, a layer of death-scent on your skin. The song cut through it, thrumming in your ears, an echoing promise of cherishment and fidelity.

The blood burned down into nothing, the smoke slowly clearing. All of the people in the courtyard came back into view, the upturned faces solemn. The dancers below picked up the chorus.

And you understood them.

Loki took your hand and lifted it up, flourishing to the crowd. They cheered, while you stood there, stunned. You understood what they were saying, their enthusiastic calls, their songs. The blood smell lingered in your nose, the throbbing swiftly receding from your head.

He led you to the stairs down as you wobbled, but you never made it all the way down. Dizziness overcame you, and you collapsed into Loki's arms.

#lasabrjotr #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

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octalove · 4 years

Text

V: Letting Lie

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: There’s a breakthrough in the case, and Reader takes things into her own hands. Part one, two, three, and four.

The hospital was white. All white. Like a dream. White walls, white floors, white curtains, white stretchers, white papers fluttering around on clipboards, doctors in white coats. Mr. Wayne’s suit was black, so I focused on him. Black suit, blue tie. Black hair, blue eyes. He was filling out whatever paper the nurse had given him. Something about seeing it all play out, despite the face he had put on for me, made my eyes well up with tears. He was afraid, so I was afraid.

“Mr. Wayne?” His eyes shot up as he looked desperately at the nurse. He was so helplessly at the mercy of whatever news they brought us. We both were. “Will you come with us? We’ll have a nurse stay with the girl.” The nurse looked down at me with a warm smile. White teeth.

“We need to borrow Mr. Wayne for just a second. That okay, baby?” I just nodded, not really considering it something I could say no to. No, please, I want him to stay. I’m scared and I want him to stay. A male nurse came and sat by me. He talked to me about school, my favorite subjects- science, math. He asked me what I wanted to be, and I shrugged.

“People who like science and math make good doctors.” He said. I shrugged again, but then considered it more.

“Is it hard?” I asked.

“It’s very hard. Not a lot of people can do it.”

“…”

“But it’s worth it. You help people, you know?”

Mr. Wayne appeared from around the corridor. The look on his face made all the papers stop fluttering. Made all the doctors stop rushing. Made the world stop where it was. Somewhere, maybe, in retrospect, I knew before he said it. I kept my eyes trained on his face, even though I wanted to look away.

“Y/N…” He said, taking a seat beside me. “Listen to me, sweetpea. Your parents-” His voice was cautious, considerate as he tried again. “Your moms got hurt really badly tonight… They- they’re both…“ A tear landed on my hand as the memory grew into a reality, which was bigger than I was. White sheets, red blood. He took my hand, and wiped it away.

“They’re gone now.”

They didn’t talk about Jason Todd.

And since they were the only people in his life at the time he died, nobody talked about Jason Todd. We met a couple of times, before Bruce took me in. I hated my expensive gowns, and he hated his expensive obligations, and we hid together at parties, all the while Dick insisted we’d get married. He lived, albeit briefly, as a smart, capable boy, and died as a smart, capable Robin. I had trouble looking at his face- pictures and old year books. When I did, I was looking into the face of a boy who died an untimely, tragic death. That was it. That was his story. Jason Todd died alone, afraid, and probably in a lot of pain. I went to his funeral.

If at all he came up (I could only think of one or two occasions), Bruce would tense, his eyes falling away, and Alfred’s gaze would cloud with memory. Dick, at least, could share a story or two, coveting the fondness and pride he had for his brother without dismissing the whole subject. Tim and Damian didn’t ask. They just tried not to die with the uniform on.

So walking into the cave and seeing Jason Todd’s face plastered on the central monitor seemed like the single most unlikely thing to occur in the Wayne household. I would’ve placed Bruce adopting another child before digging up and displaying dead ones.

Tim, Dick, and Babs were huddled close, faces wound and tight, while Bruce looked distracted, fascinated with his W.E. ballpoint pen. I dragged my feet a little to alert them all of my entry, but only Babs looked up.

“Y/N.” She said.

“Hey. What’s going on?”

Everyone just sort of concluded that someone else would explain, or take the lead, but no one made any attempt to do so. Finally, Bruce sighed.

“Come here. Sit down.” Okay. If there was anything in the world that could make your intestines feel like they were getting turned to ramen noodles by a paper shredder, it was Bruce Wayne telling you to come here, sit down. I searched the others’ faces as I did so.

“What happened?” I asked quietly, trying to fill the chasmic silence.

“I’m going to go over everything. Do you remember…” He trailed off- just for a second. It wasn’t often I saw him battle with something like that. His face was tired, and his eyes revealed a struggle as he fought whatever emotion he was grappling with. “Do you remember Jason?”

I nodded. “Sort of.” An echoing memory passed. Lacy table cloth curtains and chocolate covered strawberries as we camped under gala snack tables, whispering and laughing. Bruce watching me when my parents went out of town, and Jason giving me a tour of the library. The red roses on his burial. Sure, sort of. His blurry picture was on the monitor, anyway.

“Okay. Very good.” Bruce began again, perhaps relieved he would have to go into detail to refresh my memory.

“We’ve been putting a lot of information together regarding the Red Hood. We’ve been able to deduce his origins were The Viper House, but before that, Arkham. He began working out of the Asylum, and contacts there had a lot of information about him.”

That, I didn’t know. I supposed I wasn’t the only one slinking around in shadows. He was addressing everyone now, going through visuals on the monitor.

“He began to placate what was left of Joker’s operations in Coventry before he started on general crime. Oracle was even able to get some information from Harley Quinn.” I looked at Babs with some surprise, and she just nodded along.

“The very first sighting of him- in Coventry- was April 27th, seven months ago. The fifth anniversary of…”

I nodded. I knew what April 27th was. A vapid, despairing day in the manor that Bruce spent in his office and Dick didn’t call. I didn’t follow, but if Bruce had linked Jason’s death to Red Hood, I knew he must have something big.

“All of the information we gathered, on top of his intimate knowledge of us, vigilante or otherwise, has lead us to a clear conclusion. The encounter in Crime Alley on the 21st was just another confirmation.”

I almost flinched as my eyes flew to Tim, but no one seemed particularly interested in me. I texted him quickly, careful to avoid Bruce’s eye.

You told him?

- I told him I was the one who saw it. It was important information.

Shit, Tim. Was he mad?

He didn’t answer, looking back up to the briefing. I slid my phone into my pocket, guilt weighing in my chest alongside the other myriad of emotions building.

“He’s been around longer than seven months. Much longer. And it began with Jason’s death.”

I furrowed my brow, putting together a puzzle with with bent, broken edges, like trying to fit a triangle into a square-shaped hole- just one angle missing.

“Are you saying… Joker didn’t kill Jason? That this guy did?” My body felt cold.

Bruce looked at Dick, who didn’t return his gaze. Then, he turned back to me.

“I’m saying... that Jason is Red Hood.”

I let confusion twist on my face. “What? How? That’s not possible. You think he lived? We- I mean, we had a funeral.”

Dick shook his head, answering on Bruce’s behalf. “He did die, but… are you familiar with the Lazarus Pit?”

I went over my tangling thoughts. The crime scenes. The anger. The vigilante justice packaged in a case of blood and bullets, shipped right to Gotham’s largest looming criminals. The warehouse, the alley. The button. The leather on his gloves as he ran his fingers along my face and pressed it, leaving me all alone.

Tell Batman,

It was all falling in line; bubbling up and searing together like hot, melding flesh pulled together in the burning waters of the Lazarus.

I’m getting impatient.

“So… what are you going to do?” I asked.

Dick’s face was pained. Solemn. “I… we want to try to talk to him. There’s a reason he’s doing all this, and there’s a reason he chose now. If we want to figure it out, we have to find him.”

I swallowed. “I can help.”

“No.” Bruce declared swiftly. “Absolutely not. The only thing we know about him is that he’s dangerous. Red Hood may have Jason’s DNA, but we need to work under the assumption that he isn’t the same person.”

I could answer that. He wasn’t.

“Do not look for him. Do not engage him. Is that clear?” He was talking to me, Tim, and Damian. We all nodded.

“Any unapproved interaction could jeopardize the case, and give him more insight into our movements. We want to try and remain one step ahead. That is all.” The explanation was for Damian, who operated on bargains, not orders. Again, we all nodded. After a moment, I sighed.

“Well… I have school in the morning. Will you tell me if you learn anything else?” I asked. The three of them nodded, and Dick muttered a ‘goodnight’. I turned, mind working against the grain of what I should do and what I wanted to do.

Just go to bed, I willed myself.

Just go.

Night fell, black and smoggy. The sea was hissing and writhing, unsettled with the gale of a promised storm. I wasn’t entirely certain what would catch Red Hood’s attention. It seemed that our history comprised of him finding us, and not the other way around. Gotham Docks seemed like a good place to start. Ever since Kuznetsov was found in his watery grave, his men belonged to Hood. They moved drug imports that came to Port Adams- actual drugs- pharmaceuticals, over-the-counters, hydrocodone, acetaminophen; all legal things. But Gotham City taxed the living hell out of medicine imports, so people like Kuznetsov (may he rest in peace) smuggled them in fishing vessels for cheap, and got them into the hands of big pharma and medicare companies for a lot of money.

I’d picked a cozy spot on the roof of a bait shop that made me feel safely invisible as my eyes swept over the docks. Batman didn’t typically prioritize crime of this caliber; over the counter meds weren’t going to blow anyone’s heads off the way crazy clowns and mafia bosses were. It made the busy henchmen on the boardwalks nice and blatant. It wasn’t hard to find tonight’s operation.

I needed to make a scene. Make some noise, throw out some names- one name in particular. Wherever he was, I hoped it’d be enough to make it worth dropping in. I was used to making quick, efficient work of criminals, not stalling. Making a scene meant no disappearing in shadows, or quieting the sound of my breath.

There were a couple of men dollying crates in and out of a packaging plant. Disguised as fishermen, naturally. As they approached the building, several feet from the propped-open door, I dropped. Embracing the momentum, my weight striking the old wood made a salient sound, and sent the startled men gasping and staggering backward.

“Holy shit!”

“B-Batma-

“B-B-Batgirl?” I clipped. “Were you gonna say Batgirl?” It didn’t really matter which bat they thought it was. The fear all worked to the necessary effect.

“Jesus, Joseph, and Mary,” The man muttered, scooting backward along the wood as I let my step fall heavy against it.

“Where is he?” I asked, drumming up my vicious, raspy voice, like smoke on the sea.

“Where-where’s who?” He stuttered. The other man was taking advantage of my focus and scrambling to his feet. Any second, he would bolt into the building. Perfect.

“Red. Hood.” I said, loud enough that the fleeing man would hear.

“I don’t know! Hand to god, I don’t know!” The man on the ground pleaded. I looked down at him, letting the fear and shadow distort my face.

“I don’t believe you.” I kicked him in the chest, sufficiently knocking the wind out of him, but left him there, turning my attention to the packaging plant.

Adrenaline was in my limbs, pushing and pulling with the running blood under my skin. When was the last time I had a good fight? Carjackings and bank robberies felt so small, and predictable. Everything was always stable. Batman always had it under control, watching dutifully from rooftops, appearing in split second if I needed help.

Tonight, Batman wasn’t here. I felt no eyes on my back, no voices in my ear. It was under control, but it was my control.

The men inside had already sufficiently scattered. I didn’t bother to hush my footsteps as I entered. The icy breeze from the open door made my cape flutter, despite its weight- and that was the only sound.

Suddenly, boots on concrete, and a man let out a defiant cry as he shot toward me, with a rusted tire iron raised above his head. I moved on practiced instinct, side stepping and leaving him stumbling, before delivering a hard, well-aimed kick that he wasn’t getting up from. Two other men concluded (incorrectly) if they went together, they could take me.

It was a blur of fists and make-shift weapons comprised of packaging tools, but they were easy to parry and subdue. I kicked the second one back with enough force to send him through a thin wooden partition, which cracked and splintered under his weight. I swung my eyes around the scene.

“Anyone else?” I knew they were there. Tucked behind conveyor belts and crouched low, using fish barrels for cover. No one answered the call of duty.

“I’ll ask again,” I called. “Where. Is. Red. Hood?”

Suddenly, a flash of color, and I went backward and downward, catching myself enough that my arm slid across the concrete instead of my face. I let out a sharp breath just in time to dodge another blow.

“All this,” The computerized tilt of his voice couldn’t smother the anger in it. “For little old me?”

I kept my eyes trained on his hands, because I could entertain close combat, but knew I’d need to bolt if he drew his guns. That didn’t appear to be his intention. I dipped away from one of his swings, but he swiped at the fabric of my cape, grip closing, and used it to heave me into a barrel. I gasped at the force of it as I reckoned with shattered wood. Barely recovering, I rolled out of the way as he swung low. I went for the door, figuring I could use a little more space, since he had a hundred pounds and a few feet on me.

Outside, a frigid wind was cascading across the docks, biting my skin and casting droplets of salt water all around. Red Hood moved imposingly slow-paced, attending the cuff of his jacket sleeve, while I put a hand on the railing and tried to find my footing again.

“There are easier ways to get my attention, sweet thing.” Drawing to a halt, he didn’t look like he was going to attack me again, so I wiped the blood from my lip and straightened.

“Sorry. You forgot..” I was still breathing heavily. “To give me.. your number… last time.”

He laughed; a terrible, beautiful thing. “I guess I did, didn’t I?”

I fought to remember why I was here, and consequently, tried to pull together Jason Todd with the faceless man before me. They seemed to foil one another- a triangle through a square-shaped hole.

“So what do you want?” He asked, more serious this time. Though a reasonable question, it almost sounded rhetorical for the sheer lack of curiosity in it. I swallowed.

“Show me your face.” I said. It was so quiet, so hushed by the jeering sea that I was surprised when he tilted his head in response.

“Liked our little game that much? Had to crack a few skulls just to play it again?” I was frustrated, wishing he would come close, like he had in the alley, and let me touch him. Let me push away the helmet and know.

I tried to convey my seriousness with a look, but he just rolled his shoulders.

“Is that all, little bird?” He seemed annoyed; like I’d dragged him here only to concern myself with the small matter of his secret identity. The secret identity of Gotham’s most prolific crimelord. I wanted to make him understand, but I didn’t know what to say. He didn’t say anything else, either. He didn’t say “no” or “whatever” or “goodbye”. He just started walking away.

Jason.

Suddenly, I stopped myself. What if he wasn’t? What if Bruce was wrong? I’d throw out a name- an accusation- at a monstrous stranger who had no connection to me or my family. He’d laugh his terrible laugh and know that the world’s greatest detectives weren’t so great after all. Nervousness consumed me, tightening around my throat, placating me while I watched his form get smaller as he walked away, the darkness threatening to swallow him up.

“Jason!”

He stopped. His boots dragged to a jarring halt on the wood. Slowly, then, he turned around. The shadows were long and cast over him, turning his helm the color of old blood.

“Come back.” I said. “Please.”

His body language was unreadable, a mix between relaxed and hesitant that left him standing there, looming, and left me unsure as to whether he was going to leave, or pull a glock on me. Then, he lifted his hands. His thumbs dragged beneath his jaw methodically, until there came a hiss from his helmet, and he pulled it off.

“Jason.” I repeated. My voice was tight. It shook. His gaze followed me in the dark before he approached, gate slow and heavy, and sat down on a fishing crate.

“What? Do I look different? Put on a little weight?” Maybe he was joking- I couldn’t tell. The soft rasping of his voice startlingly contrasted the voice scrambler, and blended with the bubbling waters below our feet. But something eerie laced it. It was still foreign to me. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

I had previously thought I might be able to do this; face him. After all- I should be happy to see him again, alive after five years of Bruce’s grief and wretched hollowness. Years of operating in the long, dark shadow cast by his headstone. But somehow, the man before me was instead a confirmation. A walking death certificate. Jason Todd- the other Jason Todd- was still gone. Bronze skin, of which small, light colored scars adorned. Midnight hair mussed from his helmet, leaving a couple strands to fall over his dark eyes; eyes that used to hold warmth, and now held a malefic coldness. When I drank in the features of his face, I found my chalice empty. He didn’t approach me this time- didn’t draw near enough to feel his heat. Just sat there, elbows resting on his thighs, leaning forward and looking at me. I had trouble holding his gaze, but I did. Then, he gave me a chilling grin.

“Did you miss me?”

His voice knocked something loose, as my mind placed him as a memory. Someone I’d actually known. I had a million burning questions. “How? What happened?”

He pulled out a cigarette, shrugging. “I’ve been busy. Dying’s a lotta work.”

“Why- why are doing this?” This being spending seven months as the most prolific crimelord in Gotham. There was a spark of his lighter. Using his hand to shield the flame from the winds and misting water, it nurtured an orange glow on his face, bathing his skin in auburn light for just a moment. I blinked, and it was extinguished, replaced, again, by the blue darkness. He took a deep drag.

“Know how I died, dollface?” He asked. I did, so I nodded.

“Remember what happened to the bastard who killed me? After.” I studied him, still reeling a bit from accepting the man before me as the boy he’d been. I remembered there was another attack after Jason’s death. Joker took forty pounds of C4 to a shopping center in Fashion district at the beginning of May. Amidst the rubble were Robin: Missing posters. Bruce didn’t make them. Joker kept up his streak thereafter. He didn’t stop until his death, last year.

“Nothin’.” Jason supplied the answer. A hard, bitter, sorrowful nothing. It burned cold, like an inverse flame.

“Batman doesn’t kill. He doesn’t kill, and killers do. So they walk, and keep killing, and he calls it justice.”

I let it all sink in. Batman was the only thing standing between Gotham and complete corruption. I saw, in my memory, all the people I’d helped. All the victims who’d ever clung to me or thanked me through tears. All the pride I’d ever felt carrying the mantle. Batman didn’t kill because you can’t go back from killing. If he did, it wouldn’t be vigilantes against criminals- it’d be dogs eating dogs. Domestic war. Jason had been Robin. Surely he understood the philosophy of it?

But, then, what did it get him? He took those philosophies to the grave. When he finally crawled back out, he did what anyone with a vendetta might do. He overcorrected.

“Tell me somethin’, little bird.” His eyes leveled steadily on mine as I looked back up. “You call that justice?” I swayed under the intensity of it. I was afraid to disagree with him, but I didn’t even know if I wanted to. There were a lot of times I watched Joker slip through Batman’s hands, free to blow up another shopping center, when he could’ve stopped him if he just-

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

He got up, cigarette hanging from his lips, gaunt eyes burning through the blue dark.

“I think you do.”

The sea hissed, and the wind writhed, and I watched as the night swallowed him up.

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heleizition · 3 years

Note

I am just now finding out about your chosen one au and must know more

ok so i decided to copy paste everything i wrote to my friends when talking about it so its gonna be long Oups ... but it's the most complete ill ever be about it !

so this is set in a universe where gods, old and new are very present and usually they have humans serving them, regularly called chosen ones, every century or so. it's considered an honor and every sanctuary and gods have different missions for their chosen ones and it can go from taking care of the temple every week while being allowed to have their own life to go on a mission to erradicate evil. humans usually know that they are destined to be taken in by gods because of marks on their body, specific to the god(s) they'll serve. the mark starts to glow and guide them to where their god is waiting for them once the god decides they want them.

the story is set on an island stuck between two different temples. on the island stands gotham which is a strangely sunny city, and then you have the deep sea in the bay, and the deep forest north of gotham. if gotham is mysteriously devoid of bad things, its because it's been giving every century a child to the old gods temple in the deep forest. and time is coming, soon, another one will go.

so here you have the wayne family, they mostly have the same backgrounds ? kind of ? cass's parents were mercenaries that went into the deep forest, where no one (haha) in gotham dares going due to fear of breaking the old gods protections, never came back, and left cass on her own in town. bruce adopted her. dick's parents were travelers on a ship that sailed not far from the island and while they did not survive, the gods in the deep see allowed dick to stay alive until he reached the coast. immm not quite sure of what happened to jason's parents yet but uh he's here and alive woo

damian is a bit of a mystery to most people. he was delivered to bruce's doorstep when he was only a few days old. what they dont know is that nine months earlier bruce went into the deep forest himself.

so added to that is timothy drake. young boy of the drake family, the two parents who dont seem to care for him much. the boy is quiet but full of smiles and affection to give and when jason and cass drag him to the wayne estate after a day out, bruce opens his arms to him. he's a regular at the wayne house and a few days after he turns 11, he stops showing up. bruce's kids cant find him. the drakes dont seem disturbed by their missing son. and bruce knows the drakes by now, know they wouldnt give their affection to someone they knew would disappear, and bruce realises tim is gone, to the old gods in the deep forest.

so tim, 11, wakes up sweating and his room lit up with a green light that he's never seen before but in dreams and he knows that it's time. he knows that this strange mark spreading across his back, shaped like a dragon, is glowing green. he's being called.

he moves by himself, not thinking, opens the door to his room and the one that leads outside and it's so fitting when he notices that his parents arent even home, that he'd leave without them caring. soon he's reaching the deep forest and for the first time in his life, when looking at the dark depth, he's not scared, and he walks on.

tim walks and walks and there are eyes looking at him bu the soft green glow reassures him, and he knows where he should walk, and soon he's reaching a temple, strong stone and green plants and a setting sun carved on its floor, and there is a man - a god ? - walking out. and his eyes are glowing green like the mark he knows is glowing in his back, but it feels wrong, and when tim looks around again everything looks so much hostile,

tim made researches on the deep forest temple, since he knew it was gonna be his future, and he knew that temple was supposed to host old gods who were dying, so why does it feel so wrong ?

tim approaches, despite himself, and waits for the man - god??? - to say anything. there is a hand, wrinkly and uncomfortable and cold, on his cheek, and tim looks up, and he's shivering when the god - he knows hes a god. he knows he is now. - speaks up.

"i am ra's al ghul. you were given to me to serve me. you will obey me in any way i see fit, and you are to never return to your human town."

tim did make researches before he was taken. he knew that usually the child taken by the deep forest gods could travel to town without punishment. he knew that, with pattern, they were taken early, before they turned fifteen. he knew that he would most likely be lucky, have a mostly free life. he didnt know that a new god in quest of power had taken over, chained some of the old gods inhabiting the temple, killed others, simply for power and magic. he didnt know that he would be chained to a scary and cold temple, with a terrifying and powerful god that could turn him to dust on a whim.

so thats basically,,, the intro ? the first part ?

so a few months after tim disappeared, it was jasons turn.

jason, much like tim, had marks on his wrists and arms, long lines following his limbs. they're signs of being of the all caste temple, chosen one for those gods. for the ones in the deep sea. now these humans linked to temple in the sea are a bit different than the kind that tim was supposed to be. the all castes purpose is protection, and while there always is a human chosen for them, they're not always called for their purpose, in fact, no all caste chosen one had been guided to the temple in the deep see in generations.

however, one day, jason woke up, glowing white lines on his arms, told dick that he had to go to the sea, and disappeared for months.

jason doesn't remember going into the sea when he wakes up in the temple, doesnt know how he survived the journey there, but he's there, by the will of the gods, and he's informed of his purpose.

something hover over the island. something bad. it's already there, its root in the islands ground, and it must be killed. that will be jason's purpose. he doesnt know where. he doesnt know when. he knows it will happen.

so they train him. they give him the weapons and magic he will need to defeat the enemy. they want to protect the island and its inhabitant.

several months later, jason leaves again, with new knowledge and strength, and washes up on the beach, and dick finds him, unconscious. he brings him back to the wayne estate, where he tells his tale of sea gods and protection and prophecy where he is the hero.

years pass. its been about nine years since tim disappeared, since jason went to the sea temple for the first time. damian is 16 and damian wants answers from his father. he knows he's from the deep forest. he knows his mother is there. he wants to meet her, he wants to know her. but bruce never talks about her, never says anything about their meeting, like he was commanded not to, and damian decides to go against all beliefs he has grown with and he prepares. he will get in the forest. he will find his mother.

except jason know his little brother and he knows and sees him planning and on the night he leaves, jason is here, not stopping him, but ready to follow him into the forest. he has a feeling. something is there for him too .

so they travel in the forest, they're not really sure how to find damian's mother with how little bruce ever said about her, and they find creatures along the way, some of them recognize damian as one of their kin, which is how they realise damian's mother is either part god or part spirit, and jason as a god's messenger. they do not guide them, but they do not attack them.

until they walk into a territory they feel they shouldnt have walked into

a small being with wings and claws attacks, telling them to not trespass, it's smaller than jason had been at 14, but it's furious and cold and it strikes right. and when jason finally looks up he's terrified to see that he recognizes the child in front of him. and its wrong, because tim should have been nineteen by now, but he doesnt look older than 15.

finally the fight draws to a close when jason calls out for tim, a name he musnt have heard a lot, or not recently, not with care and not without an order behind it. tim stops. tim looks. he recognizes the boys in front of them, even if its been nearly ten years. after all they were two of the last humans he ever saw.

"you cant be here. you cant be here if he knows he will kill you and i cant let you die. please you need to go"

im not quite sur how they get tim to follow, or if they get in ra's territory, but they camp in a safe zone with tim, and tim tells them his story

[torture mention, non consensual body modification]

after ra's took him, he tortured him, he experimented on him. after all he was his first ever human tribute, to obey and be controlled at will, a toy for an immortal, and after many games of the new god, he settled on making tim a sentinel for his property, one that will age slowly and wont feel pain, a puppet with no strings but one that is scared of ra's power, enough that it will obey. jason and damian are Angry. something at the back of jason's head tells him that this ra's might have something to do with his own prophecy.

so after that its more blurry but tim reacts strangely to damian, he's a bit scared of him and he figures out it's bc of his heritage, that he has links to ra's, and he leads them to talia who's half god half spirit and hidden deeper and deeper in the forest, away from her father, and it makes tim leave the territory he's supposed to guard, disobey ras, which makes ra's angy bc tim never disobey, not since the first few times when he was 12/13 and thought he would still get out,,,

so there is a bit of a final showdown w tim talia jason and damian facing ra's, ra's using his hold on tim to hurt him, and talia torn between her father and her son + tim who she's seen grow up from far away and who she feels she should have protected from ra's,, jason eventually has a one on one with ra's and the prophecy does happen and he kills ra's and angry old gods who were chained in the temple wake up and banish ra's soul from this realm.

they heal tim from whatever ra's did to him, with the promise that he will travel to care for the god's temple again, as his duty was supposed to be

they all get back to gotham, tim still looks 15 but will grow to his real age within a few months, he has many scars and the mark on his back changed for a setting sun like what was carved on the temple's entrance, damian has his Mom, and jason is free from his all caste duty.

the end woooo this is over 2k long rip !! feel free to ask if u got more questions :0 !!

#ask me #chosen one au #Anonymous

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years

Text

And They Were Roommates

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Warnings: Cursing, drinking, injuries, fighting…all the good stuff. Word Count: 2.9k Requested: @nadderlover1 A/N: I feel like I’m really bad at writing jealousy…but here ya go anyways! Also it’s kinda long, sorry not sorry

“I still don’t understand why you are getting a roommate. Or why it’s not one of your fabulous brothers.” Jason chided his older brother.

“Cop salary? And I spend enough time with you guys.”

“Please, we all know you could just ask daddy –”

“No.” Dick quickly cut his brother off. “It’ll be fine. I did a background check on her and everything.”

“Her?! Oh Dickieboy, you didn’t tell me it was girl.”

“Does it really matter?”

“Of course! What if you fall madly in love with her? What if I do?”

“You will not be going near her, so that won’t be a problem.”

“Oh you take the fun out of everything.” Jason whimpered.

“You poor child. Now get out before she gets here.” Dick started pushing his brother out of the apartment.

“If she’s hot I call dibs!” Jason called over his shoulder as he resisted the force on his shoulders, before finally giving in and scrambling out the door.

Another hour passed before Dick heard rapping at his door. He swung open the door and saw you standing, suitcase in hand.

“Y/N, uh welcome…” Dick gestured you inside.

“Thanks. I uhm, have a few more things in my car…” You mumbled as you set the suitcase just inside the door. As you turned to head back downstairs, you noticed Dick step out of the front door. You looked back, slightly shocked, “So have long have you been in Bludhaven?”

“Traveled a bit when I was younger, then was in Gotham until a few years ago.”

“Gotham? I didn’t realize sane people actually lived in the city. My parents thought I was crazy enough for coming to Bludhaven.”

“Well, I lived just outside the city, technically.”

“So you ever see the clown? Or maybe that scarecrow guy?”

Dick held back his laughter, “Oh yeah. I’ve seen them all.”

“Wait seriously?” You stopped short and turned towards him, eyes wide. “And you’re still alive?”

“Luck of the draw I suppose.”

“Geez, someone is looking out for you.”

“Heh, yeah. Usually there’s a few.”

Over the next few months the two of you grew closer, roommates to friends. Movie nights and dinner dates weren’t out of the ordinary.

“Wait, so you’re father is Bruce Wayne.” You fell back into the couch with laughter.

“Well, adopted father. But yeah.”

“And you decided to be a cop.”

“Yeah…”

“Oh come on!” You slapped his shoulder, “Trust fund baby is such a better occupation!”

“Hey!” Dick’s hand flew up to his chest, pretending to be offended by your commentary. “Besides, if I was, then you wouldn’t have met me.” He elbowed you as a smile grew on his lips.

“Oh,” your voice exaggerated and raspy, “and how would I have lived without knowledge of THE DICK GRAYSON.”

Dick folded his arms, ignoring the obvious sarcasm dripping from your words. “Exactly.” He huffed out just as a notification came across his phone. He glanced at it and you noticed his expression sour. “I’m sorry,” Dick looked up at you, “I know it’s movie night but I have to go.”

“Oh yeah, it’s fine…” You tried to brush off the obvious hurt in your voice. His phone rang again, you glanced at the screen seeing the name “Barbara” flash. “Uhm, well don’t get shot. I do hate apartment hunting.”

“I’ll try my hardest.” Dick smirked as he hurried out the door.

You sighed as you pressed play on the movie. I wonder who that is…her name pops up on his phone an awful lot. Are they dating? You tried to shake the thoughts from your mind, who cares if they are dating. He’s your roommate. Your friend and your roommate. You repeated the last line like a mantra until your mind became invested in the movie in front of you.

Another few months went by and it seemed you couldn’t have asked for a better roommate. You had become friends with his brothers and Dick…Dick had become your best friend. Even though he was obviously keeping a secret from you.

“So pizza tonight?” You called out as you threw open the front door. Today had been awful and you just wanted a relaxing night with Dick at your side.

“Oh Y/N/N, I was actually just leaving.” Dick’s phone buzzed. You tensed as you saw “Barbara” flash across the screen. “I uhm, have a family thing. Don’t wait up.”

Your jealousy got the better of you and you pulled out your phone, dialing Jason.

“Well, if it isn’t my brother’s beautiful roommate. Finally realize I’m the hotter one?”

“Ha ha Jay. We’re just roommates.”

“Yeah okay, and my name’s actually Sam.”

You let out a loud sigh, “I need a drink and your brother just left.”

“Ooh is this like the ‘I’m home alone’ text?”

“No, this is like the I don’t want to drink alone, so I’m asking an annoying friend to come over.”

“Alright alright, I’ll leave in 10.”

You had already emptied half a bottle of wine when Jason arrived. A smile graced your face as you swung open the front door and lunged at Jason.

“Jay, you’re here!” you cried out as you enveloped him in a hug.

“And I see I need to catch up.” Jason smirked as he lifted you slightly off the ground and carried you inside.

“I’m fine, really. Just…” You let go of him and picked up your fresh glass of wine. “Just a bad day.”

“Hm, been there.” Jason poured himself a glass of whiskey and joined you on the couch. “What happened?”

“I just don’t understand why people are intentionally bitchy. Like for no reason. It makes everyone around them miserable. And it makes them miserable. So why do it?”

“They just want everyone to be as miserable as them.”

“But they make it worse that way! If you surround yourself with happy people you are more likely to be happy. So if your sole purpose is to make everyone miserable, then you’re solidifying your own miserable life.”

“Maybe they think they deserve to be miserable.” Jason solemnly looked down at his glass.

“I hope, Jason Peter Todd, you are not talking about yourself. Don’t make me fight you.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m working on it. You sure that’s the only thing bothering you.”

Your eyes darted around, avoiding contact with Jason’s. “Of course. What else would it be?”

“Something to do with my brother perhaps?”

“Wha –” your eyes narrowed as you grabbed the bottle of wine beside you, emptying the rest into your glass. You proceeded to take a long drink in order to avoid further questioning.

“We both know I can out drink you. So we can do this the easy way. Or the way that gives you a hangover in the morning.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You looked up at him as a smirk formed on his lips. He knew he had won. “I just know he’s keeping something from me. But what am I supposed to say? Plus, I’m just –”

“Don’t even finish that sentence Y/N Y/M/N. You are way more to him than just a roommate. Everyone can see that, even if you two can’t.”

Another bottle of wine later and Dick opened the front door, garnished with a new black eye. “Jason…?” He questioned as he saw the two of you sitting on the couch.

“And that’s my queue to leave.” Jason got up and whispered to his brother as he passed, “You should really just tell her. Though I’d do it in the morning, she’s two bottles in.”

Dick’s face grimaced with confusion as he walked over to you, slumped over on the couch.

“Richard John Grayson. Is that a black eye?” Your words were slurred and drawn out.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s the important thing here. Why are you hammered?”

“I’m fine.” You attempted to stand, thankfully Dick was there to catch you before you hit the ground. You pushed out of his arms, “Really. I’m fine.” You blinked intently at the ground, trying to get rid of the blurriness. You took one deliberate step after the other, determined to make it to your bedroom. Dick followed at your side, arms ready to catch you.

“Y/N, will you just –”

“No! You can go on with your secrets I’ll be going to sleep now.”

“I –” Dick was left dumbfounded standing at your bedroom door, until a crashing sound shook him. He looked over to see you on the floor, blood beginning to seep from your head. “Shit.” He ran over to you, “Y/N. Y/N, I need you to look at me.” You pushed his hands away.

“I’m fine!”

“You’re bleeding. And I don’t give a shit if you’re mad at me right now. I’m going to help you get to bed and then you can hate me later.”

You let out a stubborn huff, but quickly realized you did not have the energy or the sobriety to argue with him. Dick picked you up, bringing you into his own bathroom and set you on the counter. He opened a cabinet full of way too many medical supplies for the average person and pulled out some bandages and glue.

“This is probably going to hurt, but it’s pretty deep. I’m going to have to glue it.”

“You can’t glue my face!”

Dick couldn’t help himself, as he let out a laugh. “Y/N/N, I promise it’s safe. I’ve used it a million times.” Your lower lip puffed out as you stared into his impossibly blue eyes. Your little pout broke his heart, “You’ll still be as breathtaking as ever.” His hand cradled your face in an attempt to console you. Once you were patched up, he brought you over to his bed. “Now my drunken little Y/N, I’m going to bring you some water. Wait here.”

You kind of followed his instructions, only you fell backwards and promptly fell asleep. Dick walked back in, carrying the biggest water bottle he could find. He stopped in the doorway when he saw you already asleep. Dick contemplated if he should carry you to your own room or leave you in his. He, somewhat selfishly, chose the latter. He tucked you under the blankets and got ready for bed, crawling in next to you.

Dick woke several hours later, with you on his chest. He dared not move, after logging this into his memory, he attempted to fall back asleep. You began to stir a few moments later, forcing your eyes open you glanced around in confusion. Your mind raced as you felt someone’s chest beneath your head. Slowly, you rose, letting out a sigh of relief once you noticed it was Dick. Quietly you tip-toed to your own room, grabbing the bottle of water and aleve Dick left for you on the dresser. You crawled into your own bed and fell back asleep, tomorrow was going to be hell.

Unshockingly, the two of you completely ignored the past nights events and fell back into routine.

You were looking forward to movie night, Dick had missed the last three and you really needed some best friend time. As soon as Dick walked through the door you rushed to his side.

“So, decided on a movie?” You looped your arm into his.

“Actu –” His response was interrupted by the buzz of his phone. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

You threw your hands up in the air. “Of course you can’t. You haven’t been here all month, why start now.”

“Y/N/N…” He glanced down at his phone, Barbara was calling again. He sighed before continuing, “I have to go.”

“Girlfriend calling again, I get it. Have fun.” You turned to leave, as Dick grabbed your wrist and pulled you back towards him.

“That’s not – I’ll explain everything when I get back. I promise.” You were left speechless and confused as he walked out of the front door. The slam of the front door shook you free from the trance. You walked over to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine. Before you could open you heard a knock on the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you went to open it.

“Forget your –” you stopped once you realized it was not Dick, and the two men were both armed. You attempted to slam the door, but the first man shoved in. Slamming the unopened bottle of wine against his head, it shattered as he fell to the floor.

“You bitch!” The second man screamed as he grabbed you, wrapping his hands around your neck. You repeatedly punched him in the side, but to no avail and soon everything went black. When you woke, you were gagged and tied to a chair. Thankfully, you recognized the surroundings, they hadn’t moved you from the apartment.

“Oh the birdie is awake. Don’t worry, we just want your little Detective friend.”

You looked around and noticed the first man was awake, holding a bag of frozen vegetables to his head.

“Yeah, so when the fuck is he coming back? If it ain’t soon, I may need to start paying you back for this.” The man pointed to his injured head, which was still bleeding. “Can’t we just call him from the bitch’s phone?” He pleaded to his partner.

“No. He can’t know something is wrong. The boss wants him alive. Teach him a lesson about poking around where he shouldn’t.”

You made the mistake of rolling your eyes at the comment. The action was quickly met with a swift punch to the jaw. Honestly, you had no idea how long you were sequestered to the chair. All you know is the two idiots couldn’t stop arguing about what to do. Finally, you heard footsteps in the hall. They stopped at your front door, but it seemed as if they would never open it. At last you heard the key in the lock just before light from the hall began to flood the room.

“Y/N?” Dick’s voice sounded worried. Did he know something was wrong?

You attempted to scream, but the sound was muffled by the fabric in your mouth. Somehow, it was enough. Dick rushed to your side, but you shook your head furiously in an attempt to warn him. He didn’t seem to need it. Your eyes went wide as a man came up behind him. Dick sunk to the floor, sweeping the assailant’s feet from under him. The next man came out of the shadows and charged at him with a knife. Dick swept his body to the side as he jabbed underneath the man’s shoulder, forcing the knife to crash to the ground. The man clutched his arm, as you watched Dick’s fist collide with the man’s jaw.

Dick walked over to you, pulling the gag from your mouth just in time for you to scream out, “Behind you!” Once again, it seemed as if he didn’t even need your warning. Dick’s arm came up just in time to block the attempted blow to his face. He stretched the arm out and slammed it against the man’s neck. Before you could blink Dick’s foot collided with the man’s chest, sending him flying into the wall. You watched as the man sunk to the ground.

“So obviously I’m –” Dick’s eyes darted towards the man attempting to sneak out. “Well you’re not going anywhere.” He raced over, grabbing the man’s forearm, Dick swung him into the wall. Dick flipped on the light and his eyes went wide as he saw the bruises forming on your neck and jaw. He raced up to you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “What did they do to you?” His hands cradled your face.

“I’m okay Dick. Really, just…”

“What?” His expression filled with fear as his eyes searched yours for an answer.

“I’m still tied to a chair.”

Dick’s hand went up to cover his face, stifling a laugh. He withdrew a knife from his pocket and cut your hands and feet loose. Before you could move from the chair, he was kneeling in front you again. “You’re okay though?” He asked worriedly, as his hand lightly grazed your bruised jaw.

“I’m okay.”

Dick let out a sigh of relief as he hung his head. “Alright, I’m going to call the station.” When Dick got off the phone he walked over and sat next to you on the couch. “They are going to come take pictures, get your statement…I’m sorry. This is my fault.”

“Dick, it’s not your fault. You were doing your job.”

“I was…I was only looking into them for my other job though. I should’ve known better.”

“Your other job?”

“This is, uhm, this is what I wanted to explain. I’m Nightwing. And and I get so many calls from Barbara, she’s like uh the woman in the chair? Behind the scenes…gathering intel.” He looked over at you, eyes hopeful for your approval. He was not expecting you to burst out in laughter. Which is exactly what you did. “Y/N?”

“I’m sorry Dick. I just…it makes so much sense!” You took in a deep breath to compose yourself.

“You aren’t mad?”

“Mad? Of course not.”

“Good. Because there’s something else I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

“What’s a bigger secret than –” Your words were cut off by his lips moving against yours. He pulled back, leaving his forehead pressed to yours.

“I love you.”

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hateswifi · 4 years

Text

Making Do (With What Life Give Us): Part 4

So last part, don’t be afraid to talk to me, I love interacting with you all. I hope you enjoyed this short (15k word) fic. Without further ado, I give you Part 4.

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

As her friendship with Adrien grew she realized that he and Chat Noir are the same person. They had kissed during Dark Cupid, turns out they both remember it and found it awkward and decided on being friends. They would have won the gaming competition if Marinette hadn't given her spot up to Max. She had won his father's hat competition without prior knowledge of their friendship, in fact, Gabriel had offered a scholarship which she would have taken if not had it been for her need to disappear to be Ladybug. But she did take commissions from her new uncle, Jagged Stone. Chloe and she had become co-class presidents together again and everyone was quite happy. She also joined them in battle as Queen Bee with the promise of secrecy. Adrien and Chloe had officially unofficially adopted the two blondes into their family. Her parents are super protective over them especially after hearing about their nightly escapades as heroes. As a group, they were close, with the help of her family, to figuring out who Hawkmoth is.

After an awkward conversation that Marinette did not in fact like Nino more than a friend, he joined the friend group with the later addition of Alya, his new girlfriend. Throughout it all, Damian and her family had started to come to Paris more, thankfully no one from her friends besides Chloe and Adrien had met them. She didn't want to tell Nino and Alya because of the Ladyblog, Alya had a tendency to stretch the truth and to do practically anything to get a good story. She didn't fully trust them and with good reason and it all started at the beginning of her third year in Paris.

A new student joined the class, which would have been fine besides the lies she was constantly telling. "I'll meet you in the park in ten minutes," she had said to Adrien.

"You wouldn't believe what she just said," Adrien snickers to Marinette as she comes out of hiding.

"How'd you know I was there?" Marinette asks, sitting beside him.

"Chloe texted me saying you felt something suspicious about her," Adrien said.

"And with good intention, she's clearly lying," Marinette pouted.

"Obviously, she's best friends with Ladybug even though she just moved here? How does that even make sense?" Adrien asks. "So I'm not saying that you should, but I'm going to meet up with 'Ladybug's best friend' I feel like she would LOVE to catch up with her, don't you think?"

"I'll let you know what my dear friend says," Marinette smirks. Adrien and the rest of her brothers had started to rub off on her.

"I don't recommend it, I would wait to see what she says first," Tikki whispers from Mari's purse. "Or you could interrupt as you depending on what she says."

"We'll see," Marinette said, standing up. As she entered the park she heard the liar talking.

She coos. "Ladybug isn't even the most powerful hero, it's Volpina, the holder of the fox miraculous." She pauses while she pulls out her necklace. "This is the fox miraculous, it used to be my grandmother's, but she passed it down to me. I let Ladybug have her time to make a name for herself because we're best friends."

"You've been here for like two days," Adrien started.

"And," Marinette says, walking up. "That was a necklace released in Gabriel's last line. Also why would you tell a total stranger about something, 'so important' something that is supposed to be a secret," Marinette said, sitting down beside Adrien.

"Sabine, Tom, and Chloe are waiting at home for lunch, want to come?" Marinette asks Adrien.

"I would love to!" the liar interrupted, standing up.

"And you are?" Marinette asks.

"Sorry Mari, my dad wants me to come home today," Adrien said, standing.

"It's fine, just remember mama and papa would be heartbroken if they don't see you soon," Marinette said walking towards the entrance.

"Hey I've been busy, could you imagine how much more busy I would be if we hadn't threatened to dye my hair?" Adrien laughs, remembering that wonderful weekend.

"What do you mean?" Lila asked, racing up behind them.

"A couple of weeks ago, Adrien wanted to have a sleepover with our friend group, but his dad was being himself and decided that he couldn't," Marinette started, prompting Adrien to finish. "They snuck in through the window with some semi-permanent dye and the dyed my hair lime green. I threatened to shave my head if he kept forcing me to stay in the house."

"You're a bad influence on him!" Lila shouts, grabbing her arm.

"All I'm showing him is that he doesn't have to live his life as a prisoner in his own house," Marinette responds, pulling her arm from Lila's clutch.

"And I couldn't be happier," Adrien says as his car pulls up. "Bye Mari, we still on for after school?"

"Yes, Mama said if you don't learn how to back soon she'll disown me," Marinette laughs, hugging him.

"She can't disown you and even if she did Bruce would be more than happy to take you back," Adrien snickers.

"So are we never going to talk about this again?" Lila asked, the two friends stopping in their tracks.

"As long as you don't lie, we could start a friendship," Marinette smiles. "See you in class, Lila. Welcome to our class." They wave and walk there separate ways.

Stuff started to go downhill from there, Alya and Nino believed Lila lies over Marinette and their friend group them. It was a dark time in Marinette's life, everyone besides Chloe and Adrien. The retaliation that the class set against them was beyond tolerable. Gabriel still made Adrien deal with Lila because apparently 'she is all the rage right now.' Marinette had been more unhappy than usual so Marinette's parents decided that she needed a break from the drama, but on her last day before her vacation when everything went to hell.

"I can't believe she was even let into this school!" Alya loudly exclaimed during lunch.

Lila's sniffled, she had been distressed because Marinette 'supposedly' made fun of her for her past, "What do you mean?"

"Well before she became a jealous wench we were best friends, I just so happen to know almost everything about her," Alya snickers.

"What do you mean? She has secrets?" Lila asks, rubbing her eyes to wipe her tears away.

"She used to live in America, where her dad left her before she was born. Her mother was a stripper and died because she couldn't pay for her drugs and was shot," Alya laughs. "She lived on the streets until Sabine and Tom adopted her. Then she became friends with Chloe and Adrien for their money and connection, obviously. She then manipulated Adrien, Lila's soulmate, to hate her."

"I recommend you silence yourself before I break your elbows and give them to Titus," A voice comes from the entry of the cafeteria. "You're saying only the bad, most of them exaggerated and false.

"And you are... someone she paid to pretend to like her?" Lila asked.

"No, she doesn't need to pay me, even if she could she wouldn't be able to. She is my best friend," he said.

"Ummmm... No! I'm her best friend and she's never spoken of you," Alya said, crossing her arms.

"A real friend would check her statements before announcing these lies. Speaking of the Angel, where is she?" he asked.

"You must not be talking about her because she's an actual demon," Lila sniffles. "Have you heard the things she's done to me?"

"And I don't believe you," He said.

"Thanks, Demon. I never needed any of them all I needed was my closest and most trustworthy friends," Marinette said after she had run and hugged him.

"Hey, Angel, it's good to see you again," he said into her hair.

"And who are you, 'Demon', you never answered," Alya asked, putting air quotes around 'Demon'.

"I'm Damian, Marinette's best friend," Damian said, an arm wrapped around her shoulder.

"That's debatable, we both know I'm her better friend," Adrien snickers.

"Nope. I was her first friend," Damian answers.

"But first is the worst, and as being her second friend, I'm the best," Chloe says, smiling.

"Come on guys, you get to spend all the time with me, let me spend some time with Damian. I haven't seen him since Thanksgiving," Marinette says, snuggling into his embrace.

"Good job making the conversation all about you," Lila remarks.

"Whatever... come on let's go to class, the sooner this ends, the sooner I can leave," Marinette says and they turn to walk to class.

"Who the hell does she think she is?" Lila said, crossing her arms.

"A jealous, psychotic, gold-digging, wench," Alya answers.

"With good tastes though, did you see that hot piece of man that defended her," Lila said.

"Dark and brooding," Alya adds before they head to class. The lesson was normal, glares and disappointing glances sent her way, as she designed. With fifteen minutes before dismissal for the day, a knock came at the door.

"I'm here for Marinette," Damian said, entering the room.

"Oh thank God, I don't know how much more of this crap I can take," She responds in English. "Bye Chloe, Adrien, love you both, see you next week." She hears her friends respond with a bye as the door closes.

The trip went well and the time was well spent. Marinette released her first line while in Gotham under, the alias she used to be known as, Sunshine. They had a party held in her honor where for the first time ever, she showed her face to the public and the Ice Prince and Princess Sunshine became an official couple. She melted his heart, as said by a majority of the news outlets.

She had also made a speech at the closing of the ball. "So honestly, I just want to thank Bruce, who was kind enough to foster for me, Damian, who was a supportive food friend turned boyfriend, my brother, Jason, Tim and Drake, who taught me to live my life. Along with my two best friends, who I met in Paris, Chloe Bourgeois and Adrien Agreste. My adopted parents, Tom and Sabine, who only have my best interest at heart. Last but not least I would love to thank my antagonists all my classmates, who I'm too mature to call out by name, especially the liar, you know who you are."

The girls watch in disbelief. Lila was crying actual tears as she saw her lie-kingdom begin to fall. Alya cries as she sees her career end.

When Marinette returned a couple of days later, Marinette walked into class early, smiling. Alya stood there, arms crossed and glared ready. "You are a petty waste of--"

"I could have been petty and released all your names," Marinette says, trying to walk past the red-head.

"No, that is just common courtesy, it was just petty to bring us up in your lies," Lila said.

"You want to see petty, fine," Marinette said, dropping her bag on Bustier's desk. She pulls out her notebook and rips it.

"So... why should we care," Lila asked.

"That. That right there ripped up and at the bottom of the waste bin is our end of the year trip," Marinette said, pointing to the waste bin.

"You! You petty bitch!" Lila screams.

"Yep, and proud of it," Marinette smiles and takes a seat, but not before placing a stack of papers on their desk.

"Also this is for you," Adrien says, walking into class. He places a stack of papers on Alya and Lila's desk.

"And what are those," Lila says, significantly paler than normal.

"Well from me, those are lawsuits from my parents, Jagged Stone, and the Waynes," Marinette said, smiling as she took a seat.

"Mine is a court-mandated cease and desist order for your Ladyblog, for spreading rumors about the Agreste Brand. For you, Lila, your papers are termination papers, for spreading false rumors," Adrien said.

"W... What, you can't do this the Ladyblog is my life work!" Alya screamed.

"Who cares about you!? My mum is going to send me back to military school if she finds out I got in trouble for lying, please don't do this," Lila exclaimed, falling on the ground.

"I gave you a way out last year, you didn't take it," Adrien said, sitting beside Chloe and Marinette.

"It's all your fault! If you hadn't been such a bad influence on him I could have had it all," Lila screamed, attempting to jump at him.

"Nope! you couldn't have," Damian said entering the room.

"Lila Rossi, you're under arrest for working the terrorist, Hawkmoth and using celebrities' names to get free things," the officer said.

"Damian, what are you doing here?" Marinette asks, standing up to greet her boyfriend.

"Father and I are here on business," he responds hugging her,

"And does any of that business have to do with you helping me?" Marinette asks, smiling into his embrace.

"Some of it the other half was actual, WE work. I'm going to be working in this wing of WE when I graduate," Damian smiles.

"Sounds great, Demon," Marinette says, breaking the embrace to look him in the eyes.

"I can't wait to start this next chapter of my life with you by my side, Angel," Damian said, kissing the crown of her head.

Extra (how Damian realized Marinette was definitely not just a friend):

Marinette had come to the ball (not really party just really big party) wearing a light blue off the shoulder cocktail dress, looking as beautiful as normal. He had been enjoying himself until he saw it. Normally he’s not one to be jealous, but the way she was smiling at this guy was bothering him. Damian found Jason and told him. “I have a suspicious feeling about that guy.”

“Are you it’s not because how he’s making her smile?” Jason asks, nudging him with his elbow.

“And why would that bother me!” Damian asks.

“Well remember that time in the gym, right after Marinette became Ladybug and you found out she had a partner,” Jason asks, Damian gave a nod, yes. “Well today could be that day. The longer you wait the less chance you have with her.” He finishes before walking away.

Extra (how they became a couple):

He was utterly and completely hecked --gotta keep it family friendly ( ; -- he was in love with his best friend and it looks like someone had already beaten him to it. At the thought he walked away to the balcony, failing to notice the bluenette, who had seen him sad and decided to check up on him.

When she found him he was leaning on the guardrail he was holding a glass of grape juice, not being the legal drinking his brothers found it funny to give him it. “What’s the matter Dami?” Marinette asks, putting a hold on his shoulder.

“It nothing, I just realized that I’ve been missing who's been in front of me this whole time and now its too late,” he sighs, taking a swig from his glass.

“Missing who?” Marinette asks, placing her head on his shoulder.

“You, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me and it’s too late now,” Damian explained.

“What do you mean it’s too late?” Marinette said, lifting her head.

“Didn’t that guy ask you out?” Damian asks, standing up straighter.

“What? No Dami. He’s a client,” Marinette explained, pulling him into a hug.

“Wait seriously?” Damian says. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“Yes Damian, if you hadn’t noticed I’m head over hill for you,” Marinette says, kissing his cheek.

“Seriously!?” Damian asks, picking her up in a spin.

“If I didn’t know Adrien I would say you’re the most oblivious person I know,” Marinette giggles into his embrace.

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

Tag list:

@northernbluetongue @chocolatecatstheron @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @gwennex @abrx2002 @sonif50 @silvergold-swirl @sturchling @rosep16 @toodaloo-kangaroo @captainmac6 @crazylittlemunchkin @tired-butterfly @emo-elaine13 @book-lover-2006 @weird-pale-blonde-person @rebecarojas07 @dahjokester @jessigurl-design @vixen-uchiha @daminett4life @cici-schnee @clumsy-owl-4178 @lavenderchaitea @grimmhallow31

#batfam #maribat #ml salt fic #lila salt #marinette x damian #alya salt #damian x marinette #marinette x batfam #class salt #wifiwrites

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mischiefandspirits · 3 years

Text

Colony of Gotham (1/7)

Special thanks to @starlightandsunshine for helping me with this <3

The Colony of Gotham is an urban legend that is whispered about in the dangerous city. It's said the Colony is a family of demons and spirits that stalk the night, hunting for the souls of the guilty.

When Bruce became Batman, he'd never intended to be mistaken for a demon. He was happy to lean into it, though, and as he gained his partners -- as his family grew -- they all followed suit.

Next Part

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce Wayne was born a vampire, one from the long-standing Kane family of vampires through his mother. This nature granted him a few abilities. He was more durable than a human and could heal faster. He was stronger and faster than a human and had better sight and hearing, though not to anywhere near the degree that some metas boasted. He could take on the form of an animal and could influence bats, corvids, canines, and felines to a certain extent. Finally, he would stop aging once he reached his thirties, a trait of those who were born or turned young instead of those like Alfred who were turned at an older age and therefore would always be that age.

However, when he set off on his path to becoming Batman, he swore to himself that he would not rely on any of this to fight the criminals that plagued Gotham. He would not be like those heroes past who relied on their powers, then were left defenseless when those abilities faltered or were ripped away. After all, only a vampire’s healing and longevity remained during the day and some spells and devices could similarly strip his nature away.

Batman stuck to his wits, tech, and martial arts training.

Even still, the criminals of Gotham could tell something was off about the Bat. Rumors flew about a demon haunting Gotham’s night, which Bruce leaned into. He hadn’t chosen a bat just because of the family significance. He wanted to strike fear. As such, he stuck to the shadows and allowed his fangs to bare. He used makeup to make himself appear paler and contortionist tricks to make his movements uncanny. He allowed Batman to become an urban legend that sent shivers down the spines of Gotham’s infamous.

When Barbara Gordon became Batgirl, she quickly realized his tricks were just that and leaned into them as well. She became a ghost following in the Bat’s footsteps. She disappeared into a mist made from special smoke pellets and spun across the ground and air in a weightless way that came from years of ballet and gymnastics training. She wore shadows like Batman’s, but violet and gold peeked through the darkness to make her stand apart.

Bruce initially didn’t want her in the field, but she eventually proved herself both competent and stubborn. In a bid to help protect her, he outfitted her with proper gear and let her in on the secret of his nature. She considered it, then a week later she asked him to turn her so she could always watch his back.

Then Dick Grayson was taken in by the billionaire and became the Bloody Robin. They called him a demon child, the son of the Bat who flew on bird’s wings. His cheerful laughs and giggles echoed and hissed eerily thanks to a voice filter. His clothes were bright colors, but were covered by the wing-like shadows that wrapped over his shoulders. Fake blood dripped from his hair and eyes and coated the tips of his gloves and cape. He chirped like a bird as he flipped and flew through the air. His mask made his eyes glow white and his body almost appeared boneless when he moved around on the ground thanks to the contortionist who’d babysat him at the circus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three heard the tales when teams of heroes began to form, but they didn’t reach out. Gotham’s Colony was a myth, an urban legend. Those outside of Gotham had never heard of them and those within only spoke in whispers.

That was how the Colony preferred it.

Besides, the rest of the world wasn’t as dark as Gotham.

Their tricks and games worked fine in the shadow-filled gothic architecture that made up Gotham, the near-perpetual overcast days, and the deep darkness of Gotham’s nights, but cities like Jump, Metropolis, or Central were far brighter. They could do without, they’d proven that plenty of times against the bigger villains that were either too crazy or brave to fear the Bat, but why should they? The tricks and games had become a part of them over the years and discarding a piece of themselves just so they could work outside of Gotham with strangers felt wrong.

So the Colony stuck to their own.

On the job, at least.

Dick met Wally West at a two-week-long Jr. Forensics Summer Camp when they were eleven and thirteen respectively. Bruce had sent him to brush up on his skills while Wally’s mentor, Barry Allen, thought it would be good training. Neither boy knew about each other's secret lives, but became close friends all the same and kept in contact when they returned home. Dick didn’t reveal it to Wally when he discovered the other boy was Kid Flash, but kept a close eye on Central City just in case.

A similar situation happened two years later when the Colony discovered Green Arrow’s latest protégé, a girl named Artemis Crock, lived in Gotham and had been helped into Gotham Academy by the other billionaire. Dick decided to keep an eye on her, but his pseudo-stalking quickly turned into a genuine friendship.

He may have taken a bit too much joy in introducing Wally and Artemis to one another. Wally got back at him a few years later by introducing him to the model Kory Anders, the secret identity of his celebrity crush Starfire. Dick had to admit to having a crush on Kory as well to explain his nerves.

It turned out to be a net gain in the end, though, since he came out of it with her phone number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As time passed, Dick started to get too old to be the demon child. He decided to create a new story for himself. One that would let him step out from under the shadow of the bat, using a name from an alien myth in Bruce’s files that he’d loved reading growing up. He and Bruce argued, and Dick spent some time sleeping on Barbara’s couch, but with nowhere to run they were forced to come to a compromise. There was still tension, but it was smoothed over with time and a bite.

Nightwing was a nocturnal bird that had taken human shape after being taken in by Batgirl’s elegance. It chased after and raced the ghost, nothing but shadows and a blue streak flying through the air. Those who got close enough to see his face would say that his skin was like porcelain while black wings covered his eyes completely and his lips were painted with darkness.

Nightwing wasn’t the only change to the Colony, though, because as Dick was finishing up his designs for the story, a little boy was stealing the tires off the Batmobile.

Dick was furious when the kid climbed out of the car into the cave, thinking Bruce had brought the kid in as a new Robin without even consulting him, but anger’s quickly replaced by confusion.

Because Batman wasn’t with the kid.

Jason Todd had gotten grabbed by the Bat after having already nicked three tires off the batmobile. Batman caught him before he could run then replaced the tires. He’d made a mistake in leaving the boy in the car when he went to call for someone to pick him up, however. Jason, who some might generously call impulsive, proceeded to use the opportunity presented to him to hotwire the vehicle and take it for a joyride that ended when he accidentally had the autopilot bring him to the cave.

Dick was immediately taken with the small spitfire’s story, as well as his stubbornness and intellect. Meanwhile, Jason was amused by the fact that Gotham’s demon was, in his eyes, nothing more than a spectacular conman and wanted in. They teamed up to force Bruce to adopt the younger boy through underhanded -- and perhaps slightly illegal -- tactics.

As Dick started using his new story more and Robin less, Jason got his own turn under Batman’s cape.

People started to say Robin was more vicious. He’d climb walls, the claws on his feet and hands easily cutting into brick and metal. He’d give a fang-filled smirk as he hung from the ceiling like he’d forgotten he was a bird instead of a bat, only to drop down on unsuspecting shoulders. If he wasn’t clawing at opponents, he was beating them with his fists.

As one of his first acts as Robin, Jason saved a young boy who had been kidnapped for ransom. The kid had acted out of it during the rescue, but Jason put it down to trauma. He’d had no reason to realize the young detective-to-be had noticed the edge of Jason’s fake fangs through the shadows and fake blood. No one could have predicted the rabbit hole young Tim Drake had just fallen down nor that it would lead him to massive discoveries in the near future.

When Jason discovered Catherine Todd wasn’t his birth mother, he considered going alone to look for the mystery woman who’d given birth to him. He and Bruce had just had a fight about his temper that had left him benched and he wanted to prove himself, but something Dick had told him months before echoed in his mind.

“No matter how much we argue, we’re always going to be there for each other. Us birds and bats, we’re a family. We have to stick together.”

In the end, he asked Dick and Barbara for help. It was something he was thankful for when his mother sold him out to the Joker. At least he could hold out against the torment with the knowledge his true family would soon come for him.

When Batgirl and Nightwing arrived, Joker fled. Barbara got Jason out while Dick, after seeing the state of his brother, tracked down the clown. Bruce got to him just in time to stop him from beating Joker to death, but when he saw Jason’s condition he couldn’t bring himself to scold his elder son for his loss of control.

Jason was barely hanging on and Bruce, knowing there was no other choice, turned him.

The boy lived, but his injuries were too severe and he fell into a coma.

Three weeks later, Bruce and Dick came into Bruce’s study to find Tim Drake waiting for them. Both were a little more focused on “My parents are never home” than “so I’m in a perfect position to cover for Jason as Robin while he’s sleeping,” to Tim’s confusion, but he ended up in the suit all the same.

The whispers that had come after Joker’s latest incarceration had him crowing about clipping bird wings tapered off as Robin sightings flared up throughout the city. People saw him flying next to the Bat and they heard him tap-tap-tapping his claws. He tapped them against the walls as he hunted through warehouses and against the floors as he crouched in front of technology that seemed to unlock under his gaze thanks to the computer that’d been built into his gloves, the interface of which could only be seen through the lenses in the Colony’s masks and cowls.

Tim didn’t really know how to feel about being adopted by Bruce, aside from the guilt he knew was mixed in there somewhere. It felt wrong to be slipping into the family like that while Jason was right there and Dick had to talk him down when the anxiety attack eventually hit.

Tim was Tim. He wasn’t Jason and they didn’t want him to be Jason.

Dick understood though. He explained how Dick and Jason had both had similar feelings regarding Barbara and Dick respectively, though Dick could admit he’d gotten off easier all things considered. He told Tim that the Colony was a family, and adoption or not, Tim was a part of that now. Jason wasn’t going anywhere and neither was Tim.

When Jason woke, Dick had a similar conversation with him after Jay saw a news broadcast about Tim while waiting for the others to arrive. It soothed him some, and Tim soothed him more when he assured Jason he wasn’t taking Robin from him.

“There can’t be two Robins.”

“Why can’t there?”

As Jason went through physical training to get back in shape, the two worked together to develop a strategy for acting as Robin together. One part of this was Trillic.

Tim, with help from Dick and Jason, invented a secret language made up of chirps, whistles, and clicks. It started as a way for the Robins to communicate with each other without giving away there was more than one, but over time the rest of the Colony picked it up and the vocabulary expanded until it became the family’s own personal language that they’d use whenever they didn’t feel like using words.

A few days after Jason was released from the hospital, Dick found Jason down in the cave and grew worried his little brother was pushing himself too soon after his accident. Then he saw the young woman on the screen. She looked a year or two older than Jason with long red hair, olive skin, and bright green eyes.

They’d met in Ethiopia, Jason told him, while saving a woman from some men. Jason had wanted to try to track her down now that he was awake. He’d succeeded, but it turned out she was an Amazonian hero.

Combined with the fact her name was Artemis, Dick couldn’t help but laugh and make a joke about Jason following in his footsteps. Jason smacked him and told him she was really more of an anti-hero so it wasn’t the same as Dick making friends with Kid Flash and Tigress, but Dick ignored him.

Jason did end up contacting her, and even got her to take a visit to Gotham. Dick took the opportunity to introduce her to Wally and his own Artemis, who Wally began to refer to as Stripes to not get confused. When questioned, he claimed it was because of some outfit of hers that stuck in his mind. Dick and Jason, knowing it was actually based on her identity as Tigress, nodded along and picked up using the name, to her annoyance.

Surprisingly, the two women didn’t get along despite their similar attitudes. This led to them taking great offense whenever people couldn’t tell which Artemis was being talked about, something only Jason, Dick, and Alfred never managed to do.

While the teens were laughing over this, whispers were going around about how the Bloody Robin seemed to be everywhere. If you fled from a room you knew he was in, you’d find him standing right in front of you in the new room. There was no escape. And he trilled more than ever, though his voice almost seemed to echo back at him as if he was having a conversation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not long after the Justice League had formed, Barbara had hacked into their security system and planted a little bug she named Mockingbird. It was designed to alert her whenever someone mentioned the Colony’s civilian or vigilante identities and copy any footage during the time. More often than not all it gave her was Wally and Bow-Artemis (as most of the family thought of her, to contrast with Axe-Artemis) discussing Dick. Every so often though, there’d be someone pining after Dick or Bruce, which could be good for a laugh depending on who it was.

On a day not long after the Robins had been set loose together, Mockingbird gave her something that was sort of new, yet at the same time not.

The video started with Wally discussing some prank he and Dick had pulled on Bruce and slowly devolved into him just bragging about how awesome Dick was. Suddenly he froze, staring off into the air.

Artemis took one look at him and asked, “Did you finally realize you’ve got a crush on your best friend?”

He immediately went to reassure his girlfriend, but she said got it and even shared his feelings.

Barbara settled in to watch the show.

Unfortunately, it took longer than she’d anticipated for Dick to catch on that the two actually wanted to date him and not just spend more time with him. He was usually pretty good at picking up on people’s feelings, yet Artemis ended up having to pull him into her lap during a movie night and kiss him flat on the lips before it sunk in.

When Barbara approached him about it, he pouted over her spying. Then he admitted that he’d known for years they all had feelings for each other, he just hadn’t wanted to risk getting in the middle of the two’s relationship since they seemed so happy together. When he’d realized how they’d started flirting with him, he’d been worried they were just after a quick thing and he couldn’t do that to himself. So he’d put on his media mask of naive ditz Dickie who wouldn’t recognize flirting if it hit him in the face.

Thankfully the two had reassured him and after talking it through, the three settled happily into their throuple.

To congratulate his brother, Jason gave him a solid week before making jokes about Dick following in Bruce’s footsteps by dating someone with a feline-themed suit.

The next hurdle was deciding how to deal with the media. Dick was Richard “Dickie” Grayson, eldest son of Bruce Wayne. The media loved to go on about him. Pretty much every second of his relationship with Kory had been recorded by the press. Neither of them had minded. He was still a performer at heart, always would be, and she was a warrior princess who had been in the spotlight all her life.

But Dick knew Wally and Artemis weren’t Kory so he talked to them about how they wanted to handle things.

In the end, they agreed only friends and family would know about Artemis, but Wally and Dick would go public. They all had practice keeping much bigger secrets so it wasn’t hard on Artemis to hide their relationship. Meanwhile, Wally didn’t mind playing around for the cameras. Plus, he knew how people treated Dick when they thought he was single and a small possessive part of him didn’t want them trying anything, even if he knew Dick would never cheat.

Things didn’t actually turn out too bad. Of course, there were always the conservatives that came around when Dick got a boyfriend, but they never stuck around long. Bruce had made his support of Dick’s sexuality very clear from the beginning and no one wanted to risk really ticking someone as rich and connected as him off by attacking his son like that.

The real problem came when their agreement to tell their families accidentally didn’t reach everyone.

Dick had been alone at the manor when it happened.

Bruce had gone on a weekend business trip, bringing Tim with him. Alfred was on a trip to England. Jason had taken the opportunity to spend the weekend hopefully not blowing things up with Artemis Grace, who had ended up getting a small flat in Gotham to act as her home base so she could visit with Jason and Dick during the rare occasions she wasn’t running across the world causing trouble with the Outlaws. Dick had been planning to spend the weekend with his partners at Stripe’s apartment, but they’d both been caught up by something (Dick assumed a mission had unexpectedly run long) so he had the night to himself.

He was watching a movie in the theater room when he felt a shift in the air. He immediately dropped to the floor, barely avoiding the sai that had been coming for his throat. Then he was over the back of the couch and engaging the assassin. He quickly realized she was with the League of Assassins as he recognized moves Bruce had picked up from them. She was good, too, but she had clearly come to the fight unprepared to face a Gotham myth. He didn’t take too many hits before pinning her and binding her hands and feet with the obijime from her dress. He then disarmed her of all her hidden weapons just in case.

When he questioned her, she declared that she was Artemis’s sister and had come to avenge her honor after Wally had betrayed her for Dick. She was not going to sit back and let the fool cheat on or dump her sister for the likes of a man she had believed was nothing more than an airheaded socialite.

Then, with narrowed eyes, she added that she had clearly been mistaken as not many airheaded socialites had been trained by assassins. Nor did they use moves only known by those trained by Ra’s al Ghul.

Dick ignored that and explained the trio’s situation as he untied her, having recognized her as Cheshire aka Jade Nguyen aka his girlfriend’s -- apparently protective -- assassin sister.

He took pride in the fact that he was dating someone who was only related to criminals instead of actually dating a criminal, unlike a certain father of his.

She thankfully believed him, though she did warn that should he be lying or should he hurt Artemis, she wouldn’t underestimate him a second time. She made a few more thinly veiled digs at his assassin-based fighting style as he showed her out that he cleanly sidestepped with comments about self-defense training. They both knew she didn’t believe a word of it, but she left it alone as she slipped away into the night.

So long as her sister remained unharmed, she had no desire to get involved in whatever was going on between the Wayne’s and al Ghul’s.

Before she left Gotham, though, she met Artemis and Wally on their way in and informed her sister that she approved of her new boyfriend. Both to be sure Dick was telling the truth and to mess with the speedster. The two predictably freaked out and she used their panic to slip away.

Dick answered Artemis’s call with, “Oh hey, Stripes! Your sister came by earlier to give me the shovel talk over tea. It was pretty gory, but I think the one Jason gave Wally was still probably worse so I’m not going to complain. Are we still on for tomorrow?” to their relief.

Artemis had not wanted to try to explain her assassin sister to her civilian boyfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I decided to use Stephanie's Batgirl suit for Babs because most of Babs' suits are either bright or look just like Batman's. Steph will get other suits of hers when she appears.

The Robin suit looks just like Dick's from The Batman (2004), just bloodier.

Nightwing's suit looks like the typical V one, just with the eyes of the mask being blacked out. Also, black lipstick because yes.

Vampires’ animal forms:

Bruce: Gray bat

Alfred: Common raven

Selina: Oriental shorthair cat

Barbara: Little red flying fox

Dick: Black-billed magpie

Jason: Malayan flying fox

#batman #batfam #colony of gotham #fanfiction

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multiverseforger · 3 years

Text

Robin the Boy WonderEdit

Characters from an illustration by N. C. Wyeth for "Robin Hood" (1917) by Paul Creswick. The look inspired Jerry Robinson's design for Robin.[6]:83

Dick Grayson as Robin in his first appearance, on the cover of Detective Comics #38 (April 1940), along with Batman. Art by Bob Kane.

The character was first introduced in Detective Comics #38 (1940) by Batman creators Bill Finger and Bob Kane. Robin's debut was an effort to get younger readers to enjoy Batman. The name "Robin, The Boy Wonder" and the medieval look of the original costume are inspired by the legendary hero Robin Hood. The costume was designed by Jerry Robinson who drew it from memory based on Robin Hood illustrations by N. C. Wyeth.[6]:83

In his first appearance, Dick Grayson is a circus acrobat, and, with his parents, one of the "Flying Graysons". Robin was born on the first day of spring, son of John Grayson and Mary Grayson, a young aerialist couple. While preparing for a performance, Dick overhears two gangsters attempting to extort protection money from the circus owner. The owner refuses, so the gangsters sabotage the trapeze wires with acid. During the next performance, the trapeze from which Dick's parents are swinging snaps, sending them to their deaths. Before he can go to the police, Batman appears to him and warns him that the two gangsters work for Tony Zucco, a very powerful crime boss, and that revealing his knowledge could lead to his death. When Batman recounts the murder of his own parents, Dick asks to become his aide. After extensive training, Dick becomes Robin. They start by disrupting Zucco's gambling and extortion rackets. They then successfully bait the riled Zucco into visiting a construction site, where they capture him.

Robin's origin has a thematic connection to Batman's in that both see their parents killed by criminals, creating an urge to battle the criminal element. Bruce sees a chance to direct the anger and rage that Dick feels in a way that he himself cannot, thus creating a father/son bond and understanding between the two. Throughout the 1940s and 1950s, DC Comics portrayed Batman and Robin as a team, deeming them the "Dynamic Duo", rarely publishing a Batman story without his sidekick; stories entirely devoted to Robin appeared in Star-Spangled Comics from 1947 through 1952.

The character history of the Earth-Two Robin accordingly adopts all of the earliest stories featuring the character from the 1940s and 1950s, while the adventures of the mainstream Robin (who lived on "Earth-One") begin later in time and with certain elements of his origin retold. Both were depicted as separate, though parallel, individuals living in their respective universes, with the "older" Earth-Two character eventually reaching death in Crisis on Infinite Earths.

Teen TitansEdit

1964's The Brave and the Bold #54 introduces a junior version of the Justice League of America. This team is led by the modern-day Robin, residing on Earth-One, and was joined by two other teenage sidekicks, Aqualad (sidekick of Aquaman) and Kid Flash (sidekick of the Flash), to stop the menace of Mr. Twister.

Later, the three sidekicks join forces with Speedy and Wonder Girl in order to free their mentors in the JLA from mind-controlled thrall. They decide to become a real team: the Teen Titans. By virtue of the tactical skills gleaned from Batman, Robin is swiftly recognized as leader before the Titans disband some years later.

In 1969, still in the Pre-Crisis continuity, writer Dennis O'Neil and artist Neal Adams return Batman to his darker roots. One part of this effort is writing Robin out of the series by sending Dick Grayson to Hudson University and into a separate strip in the back of Detective Comics. The by-now Teen Wonder appears only sporadically in Batman stories of the 1970s as well as in a short-lived revival of The Teen Titans.

In 1980, Grayson once again takes up the role of leader of the Teen Titans, now featured in the monthly series The New Teen Titans, which became one of DC Comics's most beloved series of the era. During his leadership of the Titans, however, he had a falling out with Batman, leading to an estrangement that would last for many years.

NightwingEdit

In the pre-Crisis on Infinite Earths continuity, the maturing Dick Grayson grows weary of his role as Batman's young sidekick. He renames himself Nightwing, recalling his adventure in the Kryptonian city of Kandor, where he and Batman meet the local hero of the same name. In post-Crisis continuity he is fired by Batman after being shot by the Joker and becomes Nightwing. He maintains this identity during his role in the Teen Titans, and occasionally returns to assist Batman and his successors as Robin in the form of Jason Todd and Tim Drake, Tim in particular becoming a younger brother figure to him.

When Bruce's back is broken by Bane during the Knightfall story arc, Bruce selects Jean-Paul Valley as his replacement as Batman as he does not want to burden Dick with the role and fears that Dick may go after Bane in revenge. However, when Valley proves to be too unstable to be Batman, Bruce undergoes a rigorous recovery and training program with the aid of Doctor Shondra Kinsolving and Lady Shiva to restore him to full health, defeating Valley with Dick and Tim's aid. However, feeling that he needs to re-evaluate Batman and his mission after Valley's defeat, Bruce leaves Gotham once again, after appointing Dick as his successor during the "Prodigal" story arc. While acting as Batman, Dick is left with a clearer idea of the psychological stresses Bruce must endure in the role, as well as facing some of Bruce's newer enemies — such as Killer Croc, the Ventriloquist and the Ratcatcher — while settling his own long-standing issues with Two-Face.

Miniseries and afterwardEdit

In Nightwing: Alfred's Return #1 (1995), Dick Grayson travels to England to find Alfred Pennyworth who had resigned from Bruce Wayne's service following the events of the KnightSaga. Before returning to Gotham City together, they prevent an attempted coup d'état against the British government that involves destroying the Channel Tunnel under the English Channel.

Later on, with the Nightwing miniseries (September to December 1995, written by Dennis O'Neil with Greg Land as artist), Dick briefly considers retiring from being Nightwing forever before family papers uncovered by Alfred reveal a possible link between the murder of the Flying Graysons and the Crown Prince of Kravia. Journeying to Kravia, Nightwing helps to topple the murderous Kravian leader and prevent an ethnic cleansing, while learning his parents' true connection to the Prince; they witnessed the original Prince being killed and replaced with an impostor who became as bad as his predecessor (although Zucco killed the Graysons before the conspirators could do anything about it). In the aftermath, Dick returns to his role as Nightwing, recognizing that, for all his problems with Bruce, Bruce never made him become Robin or join his crusade, accepting that he imitated Bruce's example because Bruce was worthy of imitation.

In 1996, following the success of the miniseries, DC Comics launched a monthly solo series featuring Nightwing (written by Chuck Dixon, with art by Scott McDaniel), in which he patrols Gotham City's neighboring municipality of Blüdhaven, relocating there to investigate a series of murders and remaining as he recognized that the city needed protection. He remains the city's guardian for some time, facing foes such as Blockbuster and new villains such as Torque, and even becomes a police officer so that he can make an impact on the city's criminal activity in both parts of his life. Later, Grayson divides his duties between Bludhaven and Gotham after a devastating earthquake and the subsequent decision to declare Gotham a No Man's Land, Grayson occasionally assisting his mentor and other members of Bat-Family in maintaining and restoring order in Gotham until it is fully rebuilt. When the Justice League vanished into the past fighting ancient sorceress Gamemnae, Nightwing was selected as the leader of the reserve League created by an emergency program Batman had established in the event of his League being defeated, Batman describing Nightwing as the only person he could have picked to lead the new team.

Eventually, the original League are restored, and Nightwing departs along with some of his League-although others remain as some of the original team take a leave of absence-although Batman notes that his leadership of the League proves that he is ready for more responsibilities. However, the death of Blockbuster prompts Nightwing to leave Bludhaven due to his crisis of conscience; Blockbuster was killed by vigilante Tarantula and Nightwing did not stop it even when he had the chance to do so. While Nightwing returns to Gotham to heal after assisting Batman in dealing with a series of gang wars, Blüdhaven is destroyed by the Secret Society of Super-Villains when they drop Chemo on it.

During the battle of Metropolis, Grayson suffers a near-fatal injury from Alexander Luthor, Jr. when he shields Wayne from Luthor's attack.[7] Originally, the editors at DC intended to have Grayson killed in Infinite Crisis as Newsarama revealed from the DC Panel at WizardWorld Philadelphia:[8]

It was again explained that Nightwing was originally intended to die in Infinite Crisis, and that you can see the arc that was supposed to end with his death in the series. After long discussions, the death edict was finally reversed, but the decision was made that, if they were going to be keeping him, he would have to be changed. The next arc of the ongoing series will further explain the changes, it was said.

After spending some time away with Bruce and Tim to heal and rebuild after their harsh times prior to the Crisis, Dick relocates to New York, but has trouble finding work as both Dick Grayson and Nightwing. During the Batman R.I.P. storyline, Nightwing is ambushed by the International Club of Villains. He is later seen being held in Arkham Asylum, where one of the surgeons, in reality also the civilian identity of ICoV member Le Bossu, arranged for Nightwing to be admitted under the name of Pierrot Lunaire (another ICoV member) and be kept both heavily drugged and regularly beaten by staff to subdue him. Scheduled for an experimental lobotomy by Le Bossu himself, he manages to free himself and come to Batman's aid for the finale of the story arc.

Batman: RebornEdit

Following the events of Batman's apparent death during the Final Crisis, Nightwing has closed down shop in New York so as to return to Gotham, where after the events of "Battle for the Cowl", he assumes the identity of Batman, with Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne's biological son, as the new Robin.[9]

The new team of Batman and Robin is the focus of Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely's Batman and Robin series.[10] Their dynamic reverses the classic dynamic of Bruce and Dick, by having a lighter and friendlier Batman paired with a more intense and dark Robin. Over time, Dick's experience as the Dark Knight would harden his personality as his mentor.

During this period, Dick Grayson as Batman also features as a member of the Justice League in a short-lived run by writer James Robinson. After an intense confrontation with the Club of Villains and the mysterious Doctor Simon Hurt (who has established fake evidence that he is actually Bruce's father Thomas Wayne), Hurt is defeated when Bruce returns to the present. However, Bruce leaves Dick to continue to act as Batman in Gotham with Damian as his partner while he sets up the new 'Batman Incorporated' program, Bruce publicly identifying himself as Batman's financial backer to justify a global Batman-themed operation where he funds multiple other vigilantes.

The New 52 (2011–2016)Edit