#Brown Bridge is an actual thing in gotham

[mortiferumsomnum]

Soup Kitchens and Runaway Ghosts (Part 2)

Part 1 could be read here! Part 3 could be read here!

ASDGLHKASLGKHSDGK

thank you for liking my other post 👉👈 

 ***

It was night outside, with the owls hooting and bats flying under the light of the moon.

Jason had a hand on Dani’s shoulder as they sat in the (illegal) Doctor’s kitchen. Although she was putting on a brave face, she was trembling and pulling at the ends of her sweater. Her eyes never left the open door to the room Danny was getting medical help from. They couldn’t see his body, but they could see the Doctor walking to and fro’ the bed Danny was placed on.

“Hey,” Jason whispered, soothingly, hoping it’s the same comforting way Dick does.

Slowly, her gaze turns to him. Her chin was trembling, and she looked like she was on the verge of crying. Shit. What would Dick do? Jason didn’t think this far in the comforting thing.

So, he tugged the little girl closer, hugging her with his arm. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered to her. “He’s in good hands.”

She sniffed, and huffed through the sob that tore through her lips. “I... I don’t know how I could keep Danny safe...”

Jason glanced to her, but she was looking back to the open door. ‘What do you mean?’ he wanted to ask. ‘It’s not your job to take care of him,’ he wanted to say.

Instead, he whispered, “You did your best.” Because she did. She did her best to get food from his soup kitchen for both her and Danny, not at all stopping to eat in the cafeteria, only thinking to have her containers filled. She stole from drug stores. She tried bandaging Danny even if she didn’t know how to do it properly. She took care of him with everything she could.

(A passing memory of his mom, Catherine, flashes in his mind.)

That only made her chin tremble more, which prompted Jason to hug her closer. 

Finally, the Doctor stepped out.

***

- The Doctor tells Dani that Danny’s okay now, and that he’ll be telling the Red Hood everything that needs to be done to keep up with the treatment. Then, he tells Dani that she could go and see him. She didn’t need to be told twice and ran into the room.

- The Doctor closes the door, then grunted at the Red Hood. “Look, man. I know I said I would help you for anything medical-related, but I think I need to draw the line at freaky supernatural shit. His blood literally had green where the plasma was supposed to be.”

- Jason removed the safety of his gun.

- The Doctor was unfazed. “I’m not going to tell anyone, but men in white managing to track these kids down because they’re, what, ghosts???? Which is weird because that kid’s heart was beating????? And he’s alive??? In fact, the green stuff does a better job than regular human plasma, it’s unreal, man. Since it replaced the plasma the kid was supposed to HAVE, I’m calling it green plasma, for simplicity, yeah.”

- Jason’s not worried about that. “Tell me about the kid,” he said. “How is he, moving forward?”

- The Doctor’s face pinched. “It’s... not bad... anymore...”

- “Anymore?”

- “Look, when you brought the kid in, it’s exactly as you told me: Vivisection wounds, 3rd degree burns from laser guns, infection...” 

- The Red Hood was getting impatient with the way he was loosely fidgeting with his gun. 

- “Bottom line is, once everything was cleaned and properly stitched, he started... healing? On his own?? I took blood samples, and the green plasma has something to do with it. You know how plasma literally moves the blood cells? It seems to enhance their functions as well. The enhanced white blood cells were fighting against the infection that was also enhanced by the plasma. Once the infection was removed, it was smooth sailing for his body. Now, all the kid needs is rest, food and water.”

- Jason hummed. “I’m burning this house down.” There was a chance that the kids would be leaving some kind of bio-signature in this place, and the Doctor was one of the most competent people he knew after Leslie. He was also really easy to intimidate, but despite the fear, he does his job well. Works well under pressure, like what he wrote in his resume. “Change your clothes and pack your bags, Doc. I’m going to lend you one of my safehouses.”

- The Doctor was quick to nod his head. “I assume that you’re destroying the blood samples as well?”

- Jason pointed his gun towards him. “Did you take a sample?”

- The Doctor was fast to shake his head. “Like I said, I want nothing to do with the supernatural, man. I’m already knees deep in crime, and I really don’t want to be making contracts with beings more demonic than you are.”

- Jason huffed, putting his gun away. “The demon is my brother.” The Doctor squeaked. “After changing, leave your clothes here. It’s burning with the rest of the house.”

- “You got it, man,” said the Doctor, leaving the room with a brisk pace.

- Jason then went in where Danny and Dani were, and it seems like the kid was finally sleeping peacefully on the bed he was in. He was changed into a loose pajama that the Doctor probably had, and was tucked under a clean, beige blanket. Just as the Doctor said, he was looking a hundred times better. 

- Dani was smiling. Once she saw him, she jumped out of her seat and ran up to him, hugging his middle while laughing. “He’s okay!” she said. “Thank you thank you thank you so much!!”

- Jason chuckled, patting her head. “No problem, kid.” Even if the Doctor did most of the job.

- “Uh, yes problem?” The Doctor came into the room, clothes changed and face white. “There’s... there’s people... white suits... outside... secret police?? Government agents?? Oh god...”

- Unconsciously, Jason tugged Dani closer.

- Then, Jason took out a domino mask from his leather jacket and an extra rebreather, throwing it to the Doctor. “Put that on, Doc. We can’t have them knowing your face when we make our escape.”

- The Doctor scrambled to put it on. 

- Jason turned to Dani. “Get Danny and turn invisible like you did before.”

- “Uh, I can turn all of us invisible and get us to the car if you guys hold on to me,” she said.

- Jason blinked beneath his Red Hood helmet. “You... could do that?”

- Dani blushed in embarrassment while nodding. “I was panicking when they first showed up, okay?! I could fly us to the car as fast as I can, but they’ll still be able to track us...”

- Jason nodded. He turned to Danny, who was now being carried by the Doctor. “I got ‘im,” he whispered, eyes wide in fear and knees trembling. Jason really doesn’t want him carrying Danny since Dani did just fine earlier, but he also didn’t know how much concentration she needs to bring all of them out.

- Jason went into the kitchen and opened the gas tank connected to the stove. Then, he and the Doctor walked close to Dani.

- She grabbed onto the back of their shirts, and turned them invisible. Thankfully, he could make out the outline of Dani floating them in the room.

- Also, the Doctor was screaming like a banshee. A panicking banshee.

- “WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP?!?!?” Dani yelled.

- “I’M TRYING!!!”

- “Would my gun work through the invisibility?”

- “We’re not intangible yet, so... I think so?”

- That shut the Doctor up.

- The smell of gas was getting strong.

- “Let’s get outta here,” said Dani. And tuned them intangible, and---- holy shit. Jason couldn’t feel his insides... or his outsides... or anything from his body. He felt... nothing. Not even floaty or light. It was as if he didn’t exist. They fazed through so many walls until they made it out of the house.

- But just as they made it out, the men in white’s gadget started beeping like crazy again.

- “They’re close!”

- “Find them!”

- Thank God the Doctor was quiet.

- Jason watched as they were floated into the car. Jason lost his intangibility and invisibility first, being dropped into the driver’s seat. The Doctor was dropped in the backseat with Danny, and Dani sat in the passenger’s.

- “Put your seatbelt on.”

- Dani looked incredulously at him.

- The Doctor did as Jason told, wrapping one around Danny as well as he laid in the back with them.

- “They’re over there!!” one of the men in white yelled.

- Some blasters were shooting at them now, and the Doctor rightfully screamed again.

- Jason started the car, then took out his gun and shot at one of the blasters.

- The blaster was about to go off, and its shot was redirected to the window of the house.

BOOM!

- While the men in white ducked for cover, away from the explosion, Jason drove away, increasing his speed.

- But no matter how fast he was going, trying to get away, the men in white were chasing after them again in their vans, installed blasters getting out and ready to shoot them again. God, they’re annoying.

- “I... I could blast them too!”

- There’s too many of them. 5 vans, plowing through the trees with their comically giant blasters. One was moving forward.

- He turned to Dani. “Try to make the one in front turn around just as they’re about to launch a blast. It’ll hit the other vans.”

- Dani nodded and fazed through the top of the car, hands glowing green. Just as she left, Jason could see form the rearview mirror how Dani transforms. Although the dark of the night made it unclear in a few places, he could clearly see her hair turning white and clothes changing. He couldn’t see her face as she was faced towards their pursuers. 

- Her hands then let out a long green blast towards the van. Just as Jason said, the van flipped, it’s blasters hitting the other two vans behind it. Dani then sent another blast to the other vans, but it was unsuccessful, learning immediately from the first van that was attacked.

- Dani came back into the Hoodmobile (Jason still hates the name, but there really isn’t other name to call it), sitting in the passenger seat and buckling up once more. “What do we do now?”

- They were heading towards Brown Bridge, just past that is China Town, into GCPD territory. If he could just get into the abandoned sections, he’ll be able to get into Red Robin’s patrol route. The techy Robin would be able to fry their devices just as well as Oracle. 

- Only a few Gothamites brave travelling at night, but the streets are mostly empty, thankfully. No civilian will be involved in this crazy chase.

- “We’re heading into one of my brothers’ territories,” he said.

- The Doctor squeaked. “The Demon one???”

- “No,” said Jason.

- “You have a Demon for a brother?” Dani asked, eyes looking excited.

- “He might as well be one,” said Jason, increasing his speed once more. 

- He passed by a GCPD patrol car, but the driver didn’t chase after him after seeing two vans with massive weapons of mass destruction driving past him. Like the good, corrupt officer he was, he deleted the footage of what he had just seen from his police cameras attached to his person and car.

- Finally, Jason was driving through the abandoned warehouse district of Chinatown. Then, Jason activated his comms. “Red Hood to Red Robin, where the fuck are you?”

- “Red Robin to Red Hood, fuck you, too.”

- “Listen kid, there are some shitheads in white chasing after me. Have you heard from O?”

- “We tried hacking into their systems once they fixed it. No progress. Need me to fry their systems again?”

- “As much as possible. Where’s your nearest safehouse? One that could cover the biological-traces of someone.”

- “Including the post-mortem traces of someone?”

- “Fuck, Replacement, you got something like that? Should I be worried? How many bodies are you hiding??”

- “Hardy-har-har, Hood,” said Red Robin. “They upgraded their coding to avoid being hacked and frying their servers again. Can you hold out for 5 minutes?”

- “3 minutes, Double-R. They brought more of their buddies-- SHIT!!” Jason swerved the car to avoid hitting a pole, entering a warehouse and breaking through the old, wooden walls. “Make it 1 minute! They’re fucking multiplying!”

- “Oh shit! Hood! Look out!” the Doctor screamed, pointing to the biggest blaster Jason’s ever seen.

- Fucking hell. Jason turned to Dani, who was looking at the blaster with wide eyes and a panicked look on her face. “I... I can..” She was panicking, trying to think up of things to do to make the situation better, but Jason is NOT going to let her to anything. She did enough. It’s Jason’s job to take care of her and her brother/cousin right now. (And the Doctor, but that man is the least of his priorities. Sorry, Doc.)

- “I’m almost done, Hood!”

- A stray blast hit the already, severely dented hood of Jason’s car, knocking it off to show its engine. Shitshitshit... He unbuckled his seatbelt, to which Dani and the Doctor followed. ”Red! You done yet?!” he yelled into the comms.

- Red Robin didn’t answer. 

- Instead, Jason watched as the vans exploded. 

- Jason leaned towards Dani, covering her view before she could see the guts and limbs fly.

- “Shit... I didn’t mean to do that...” Red Robin said on the comms, voice trembling. “I didn’t...”

- Turning to Dani, her face was frozen. “They... they’re...”

- “Hey, hey, hey... it’s okay... it’s alright,” whispered Jason, taking her into his arms. He thought he managed to hide her from the deaths.

- She shook her head. “I... I could feel their souls leaving... I could feel... they’re scared... others are angry... They’re...”

- Well, shit.

- “Let’s get somewhere safe, yeah?” said Jason. 

- Dani only nodded, most likely numb and dissociating. Great. Trauma. Okay. Fantastic. Fuck.

- “Red Robin, you still there?” asked Jason.

- “I... yeah. I’m here.”

- Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Okay, Jason. You need to be the voice of reason for a whole bunch of traumatized kids right now. Okay. 

- “Double R? Where’s the safehouse and how far is it?” Jason asked.

- “It’s in Upper West Side, right along Schnapp Avenue. There’s an abandoned bookstore there. It’s right above there. The walls are covered with everything you need to cover you.”

- “Okay, we’ll meet up with you there.”

- “I... I’m going, too?”

- Jason wanted to sigh, run a hand down his face, or even punch one of the dead guys that were chasing after them. But he answered, “Yeah, kid. You have any chocolate in there?”

- “Agent A stocks up my safehouses himself.”

- “Good. I really do have everything I need there, then. I’m also bringing along some guests, ‘cause I’m not the only one these bastards are after.”

- Red Robin was quiet.

- “Kids, one who looks younger than the Demon Brat, and the other looks younger than you... and some Doctor that got involved in all this.”

- “Shit...” Red Robin whispered. “Did they...”

- “See? No.” Jason’s not going to tell him that Dani felt the deaths, tho. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes, Red.”

- It was quiet.

- “Red?”

- “Y-yeah... okay. I’ll... I’ll be there, Hood.” Click. Red Robin was no longer on the comms.

- Well... Shit.

*****

<<PREVIOUS (Masterlist) NEXT>>

#dc x dp #dp x dc #jason todd #tim drake #dani fenton #danny fenton #danny phantom #I AM SO SORRY TIM I LOVE YOU I PROMISE #I have no idea what to name the Doctor #or how he looks like #But he sounds like a Teddy #Like his name would be Theodore and they end up calling him Doctor Teddy or something #What do you guys think?? #DID YOU GUYS CATCH MY BULLSHIT ON PLASMA?! #Biology is one of my worst subjects fam #I only know that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell and that's IT FOR BIOLOGY FOR ME HAHAHAHAHAHA #Brown Bridge is an actual thing in gotham #right after brown bridge there's the west upper side and chinatown #after chinatown there's old gotham... financial district and city hall district which are all part of the GCPD territory #Old Gotham is where the Clocktower that Barbara/Oracle is located in #In Upper West Side there is an actual Schnapp Avenue eyyyyyyy #The bookstore was made-up tho <3 #I'm sorry Tim for pushing your first kill here <3 I love you uwu <3 #Jason is going to make everything better with hot chocolate and a good meal for the kids (and the Doctor) #Jason won't let Tim get in trouble over this and he's not going to let Dani feel guilty for bringing him in this shit #IF he's not going to feel guilty for bringing in Doctor Teddy into this supernatural shit he's not going to let her feel guilty either #I should probably change the name of this thing cuz it's not about the soup kitchens anymore :((((

[finniestoncrane]

i’m in the trenches for gotham eddie. he’s such a nerd and i love it 😔 i need him getting worked up over kisses or seeing u with his glasses on, if you wouldn’t mind writing about it <3 🤲

Do They Suit Me?

Gotham!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 1k mhmmmmm yep this is my weakness and i am about to hit you with the sappiest, cheesiest, romcom-iest, plot-adjacent bit of fluff u-u 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: flirting, lil bit of some prem. ejac, shy!eddie

Once your colleague, Eddie, had left the small office you both shared in the GCPD building, you stared at the door for a few seconds longer, noting the distinct blur. The distance wasn't too far, and yet the lack fo detail you were able to make out on the notice by the door frame was enough to tell you that Eddie was perhaps right, as he always was. Your eyesight was deteriorating. So you muttered to yourself in false annoyance, smiling as you whispered the words.

"Typical, Mr. Nygma. You're always have the right answer. Even when you haven't been asked the question."

Although, you giggled as you realised, it's not as though his predisposition to being correct offers him any confidence, a musing supported by how quickly he had just left the room. His cheeks were already blushing, his fingers fumbling to take off his own glasses as he began to sweat, before he finished his thought, uttering out loud what he likely had meant to exclaim to himself in silence. That you would look very good in glasses.

Maybe you would. He was right about everything else. Looking over to where he had placed his own clubmaster style frames down, you reached for them, carefully, slowly, quietly putting them on to see if they changed your vision, or indeed, if they suited you.

As you searched around the room for a reflective surface to check the style against your face, you did realise that Eddie's vision wasn't comparable to your own, and it was difficult making out anything with the frames on. And this particular disadvantage, and the distraction of your search, meant you missed it when he had stepped back into the room until he was speaking.

"Sorry, I forgot my- oh... oh my..."

He swallowed the lump of nerves that collected in his throat, Adam's apple bobbing behind the smooth, freshly shaven skin.

"Eddie! I am so sorry, I just wanted... to see... if it made it any easier to..."

"N-no, I'm sorry. Or... for not knocking. I sh-should have knocked. If... uh... if you want I can, uh... find a mirror, or?"

He stuttered over his words, unable to speak. For a moment you worried you had overstepped a boundary, setting off a comfort issue within him. But as you took note of his body language, there were several things that told another story. The sweat that had threatened to form when he complimented you earlier was now trickling down his temples. Following down his body, you noted his arms were straight and tense, stuck to his side. His fists clenched into tight balls, twitching as he tried to distract himself. And then, the most telling of all, the distinct tenting at the front of his brown pants, a bulge that held no secrets. You wondered if he had even noticed how visible it was.

"Hmm... no, actually. I don't need a mirror. Could you just tell me..."

With your fingers resting on the legs of the glasses, you pulled them down the bridge of your nose, looking over the tops at him and batting your eyelids.

"... do they suit me? How do I look, Eddie?"

As he stammered, his brain running through all the different words he could use, you pushed them back up again, slowly, as sultry as you could musternow that your own cheeks were threatening to go beet red, flattered by the kind of control you clearly had over him.

"They... they, uh... definitely look g-good... or better, even... I mean..."

You stood up and he whimpered, the threat of your body coming closer to him as you took a step out from behind the desk enough to silence him, to put him out of the misery of finding the right words to finish his sentence. Although, there were several short breaths that he choked on as you forced a wiggle onto your hips, relishing the way his eyes flitted up and down your body, then away from you entirely as he chastised himself for daring to take a glance.

"It's a shame, I thought maybe I'd be able to see clearly, but they're making things a bit blurry. Which means I can't see you properly, and you can't see me very well either, I guess."

Stopping in front of him, your body as close to his as possible without being pressed tight to him, you removed the frames and placed them back on his face, tucking his hair carefully behind his ear and tidying up the loose strands that fell to his forehead as his breath hitched and released in a breathy sigh.

"There, they definitely look much better on you, I think. Very handsome."

As your hand finished adjusting the legs behind his slightly protruding ears, you brought it round to his cheek where you rested it. Gazing into his eyes, you felt your own giddy heartbeat in your chest, could feel the heat of Eddie's gaze settle on your body in spite of himself. You let out a gentle exhale, a soft, almost imperceptible moan coming with it. And as the sound filled the room, you let your hand fall to his neck, tracing his collarbone and down his shirt, fingers settling on the end of his tie, which you tugged softly with a wink. Eddie responded with a sharp squeal, immediately stepping back from you and pursing his lips. Behind the lenses of his glasses, you could see slight panic on his face, and you followed his hands as they fell to the bottom of his grey labcoat, trying to pull it down to cover the slight wet patch that had begun to form on the front of his pants.

Before he could rush back out of the door, you caught his sleeve, holding his wrist.

"It's fine, Eddie. We can pretend that without your glasses, I didn't even notice that."

He nodded, a frown forming.

"Don't be embarrased, I'll take it as a compliment."

Your eyes flitted down to his crotch, the bulge still pressing towards the fabric of his pants.

"A huge compliment at that."

"Oh, goodness..."

Another gulp, another soft squeak as his knees began to buckle under him, and his hand tried to grab the wall, stabilising himself as you walked back to the desk with a wide, smug grin.

#finnie writes #riddler #the riddler #riddler imagine #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x reader #riddler x you #edward nygma #gotham #gotham riddler #gotham!riddler #gotham fox

[msfcatlover]

The Public Personas I think each Wayne Kid would get in the Reverse Robins verse

Duke: The easy-going, down-to-earth, reasonable one. Or, perhaps more accurately, the straightman to Bruce’s comedian. Duke’s fond exasperation & surprisingly grown-up attitude as a child made for an excellent counter to Brucie’s bombastic antics, and had plenty of people joking that Duke was the actual parent between the two of them. Seeing the two of them at work is seeing a decade-perfected comedy tag-team in action, and it is a beautiful thing. As Duke grew up, his reputation shifted to being the Chillest Dude (gender neutral) in any given room, and he mastered the sort of subtle, charismatic warmth that makes everyone feel like they’re your best friend. Duke’s one of those celebrities you just want to crack a beer open with and chat about your day, because they seem like they’d be fun to hang out with, y’know? (Which also helps separate him from his hero identities. Duke Thomas? Dress up like a cross between a motorcycle racer & medieval knight in order to speed around downtown, jump off bridges & skyscrapers, and kick the Joker in the face on a biweekly basis? Are you fucking high?)

Damian: Starts out as the acerbic, hotheaded brat. Grows up into Gotham’s favorite Bad Boy With A Heart Of Gold, thanks to both his maintained public attitude & work with helping animals around the world, even after he mostly moves to Bludhaven. (Yes, he rides a motorcycle, wears mostly leather, and has just so many piercings. Most of the piercings are fake, so that they can’t be grabbed in fights; the real ones he almost exclusively wears small studs in. They all come out in preparation for patrol.)

Cassandra: The Ice Queen, so cool & confident that some people genuinely think the family is lying about her selective mutism and it’s just a front so she has an excuse to ignore people. (She is deeply offended by this.) Zero tolerance for bullshit, cutting edge fashionista, single handedly got ASL added as a language course to every school in Gotham, and got plenty of rich jerks to learn if only to know what she was gossiping about with her siblings when they kept glancing over and laughing at everyone else. Universally assumed to be the one who'll take over WE when Bruce retires, despite her complete lack of interest.

Steph: The Wild Child, the only one to follow in Brucie’s footsteps. This was not the persona she wanted but in her society debut gala, something came up and Duke needed a distraction so he could go deal with it. Steph set her shoulders, grabbed a bottle off the snack table behind them, and said, “You got it.” First impressions are everything, and she never could shake that one… not helped by the fact that sometimes, an empty-headed party girl was exactly what they needed to gather information, and Steph had both the reputation to play the part & clout to get wherever she wanted once Bruce fostered her. (After her death, people call it a “downward spiral.” Others counter this with a clip from an interview she gave earlier that year, where Stephanie Brown talked about her hard work in school & the community, and her frustration over her reputation. “Of course it bothers me,” she said, “It bothers me that what I’m wearing matters more than the causes I promote. It bothers me that a few sips of wine outweigh organizing an entire event. It bothers me that flirting with people my own age upsets people more than a fucking shooting in downtown Gotham!” She laughed bitterly. “Is it the hair? Should I dye it? Would that make people take me more seriously?” She turned to look directly into the camera, tears shining in her eyes. “I’m—I’m sixteen. What do you want from me?”)

Tim: Tim starts out as the resident Cool Nerd. He’s friendly, he’s chill, he likes skateboarding & computer games—and also, he GMs on the weekends, he likes to solve math puzzles & write his own algorithms, he knows more about the history of sci-fi than any human has right to. Tim’s the kind of nerd who makes his nerdy hobbies seem cool by association. (Still figuring the rest out, honestly. Since he’s Oracle in this verse, part of me feels like he’d stay out of the public eye more? But another part of me says Tim would make his public persona as loud as possible, so that people think of him beyond his injury. “Bruce Wayne’s Paraplegic Son” is not an identity Tim would ever be okay letting people define him by, I think. I know he does a lot of charity work, and is more open to talking about his challenges than Cass is, in a very “if I tell you upfront, you can’t use it against me (also, maybe someone else needs to hear this)” kinda way. I know he’s still involved in the business world to some degree. I’m just having trouble pinning down how Tim would characterize Timothy Drake-Wayne [post-injury] to the public.)

Jason: Jason is kinda the inverse of Damian, being soft-spoken & seemingly shy until you bring up a cause he cares passionately about. He's very protective of his siblings, and is responsible for about 80% of the "Wayne Kids Spotted! You Won't Believe These Adorable Pictures!" tabloid headlines (Cass & Damian dote on Jason, those candids being one of the only times people get pictures of their "soft sides." Jason also volunteers to help Duke & Tim out a lot, and is often seen trailing after them trying to look professional.) Every woman over 30 in Gotham just wants to pinch his pudgy little cheeks, at least until Jason hits his last growth spurt and comes back from a year abroad looking like an absolute hunk. But still just as humble, just as polite, and just as passionate about helping others. Isn't he just a Big Ol' Marshmallow? (Jason maintains this reputation mainly by biting his tongue & constantly reminding himself if he can't think of anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. After every single interview or public event, you can find him down in the cave, ranting to himself about everything that pissed him off and taking it out on the poor training dummies.)

Dick: Started out very surly & private, but all his siblings defended that the poor boy had gone through so much trauma in under a year (losing his parents, being taken from the family he grew up with, and then losing Bruce just a few months later,) that it was only to be expected. They worked hard to keep him protected from the public eye while he was grieving. When little Richie finally made his public debut, Gotham was delighted to discover an energetic Sunshine Child, who wasn't exactly a great listener & was more than a bit of a showoff, but gosh darn if he wasn't the cutest thing anyone had seen in years. (Dick keeps up the shallow-but-cheerful Sunshine act all the way into his adult life, coming the closest out of any of them to having a true Brucie persona as an adult.)

#reverse robins #reverse!robins #reverse robins au #reverse order robins #reverse order batkids #reverse batkids #reverse batfam #batfam #batfamily #bat family #bat fam #duke thomas #damian wayne #damian al ghul #cassandra cain #cassandra wayne #stephanie brown #tim drake #timothy drake #jason todd #dick grayson #richard grayson #batsiblings #bat siblings #bat kids #batkids #batman #the signal #black bat #robins

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Mother Gotham and Her Beloved Children

This is yet another fic I wrote for the @batfam-big-bang, this time for @red-hood-redemption's gorgeous artwork, which they posted here! This one is a one-shot, so I'm posting the entire thing here, but you can also go read it on AO3 if you want.

[Warning for minor violence]

Selina had never been the sentimental type. Through a significant stretch of her life, everything she owned had fit in a single suitcase. Ever since her mom died and she was left alone, she'd never gotten attached to anything. If she left something behind somewhere, it was lost to her forever. She didn't grieve. She didn't linger. It was hers and then it wasn't. That was how her life had always gone.

When she left Gotham behind, she thought she would never look back. Her whole life, she'd been trying to get out of that god-forsaken hellhole of a city, to get away from the wretched slums she was forced to live in, from the skeevy club where she had to work with rancid, drugged-up men eyeing her like a piece of meat, and especially from her scumbag father. Although... he wasn't an issue anymore, was he?

Maybe she should feel something about that, anger or depression or whatever those stages of grief were supposed to be, but all she felt was relief. Now that he was gone, she felt freer than she had ever been, and the very first thing she'd done with that freedom was get the hell outta dodge. Her dark and ugly past was in that dark and ugly city. Her bright future was supposed to be anywhere else.

She had a whole world at her fingertips, so why would she ever go back to the rotten apple that was Gotham? Because she was born there? She'd been raised there? Because her mother, completely inexplicably, had loved that city? Ha! Of course not.

Sentimentality was the kinda thing that got a girl like her killed running back for something she left behind someplace in the middle of the night, or baselessly believing someone who fucked her over in the past could turn a new leaf. So why in the hell was she going back to Gotham? For one score? It wasn't any better than the DC job she could be pulling right now, just closer.

She could deny it all she wanted. She could pull out any excuse in the book to justify her choice to return. But she knew the real reason she was going back wasn't some ancient treasure in some museum.

It was Gotham.

It was like the city itself was calling her back, drawing her towards it, trying to bring her home—no matter how much she wanted to leave and never think of the grim, grisly town again. It was like, even with Falcone dead and her debts paid, the city still had some kind of hold over her. Even though it had killed her friend, and her mother, and chewed her up and spit her out, she owed it something, somehow.

Less than a year had passed, but a lot of the city had already been rebuilt since the Riddler flooded it. The stadium at Gotham Square Garden had been drained and torn down, but construction had already started on a shiny new one. The sea wall had been the first thing to get fixed, patched first as a stop gap, then rebuilt taller and stronger. Given actual security measures so no one could drown the entire city with seven rental vans and a few homemade explosives ever again.

The fact that it had happened even just the once was a testament to what a shit-hole the city was, and how downright awful the people who lived in it were. Not that Selina needed any more evidence than her own personal experience had already given her. She had known that all her life, it was why she wanted out so badly. And she'd gotten out. She'd had exactly what she wanted after the flood. She was free, and gone, racing away as fast as she could, like a cat outta hell.

Now, here she was, driving back across the Brown Bridge on her motorcycle.

Driving ever closer to the hell of her nightmares.

And yet, rather than feeling like she was a helpless kitten, trapped in a sack and drowning in a river... she felt like she was coming home. Like the city was embracing its prodigal daughter.

It made her stomach turn.

She wouldn't be staying, she told herself. She was only there for that museum exhibit, the Jewels of Jeresta, which was on display at the Gotham History Museum, on loan from a small country in South America whose name she couldn't rightly pronounce. God only knows why anyone would let a valuable treasure like that within a hundred square miles of Gotham City, but she sure as hell wasn't about to let this golden opportunity slip past her. Gotham was her home turf, and she knew that museum top to bottom, backwards and forwards, inside and out.

All she had to do was make sure she didn't run into Vengeance and she would be in and out and gone like a whisper on a breeze before the police knew the treasure was missing. Of course, avoiding the Batman was easier said than done.

Even having met him, the Batman was a mystery to her, almost, but not quite, a myth. They said he was the shadows, that he could be anywhere at any time, and that he knew every single thing that happened in the city of Gotham. And though she knew that wasn't entirely the truth, a part of her, however small, still sort of believed it.

Once, Selina had even heard some batty theory that he was the soul of the city itself, a physical manifestation of it. She had laughed at it then and she laughed at it now. Batman was smart, and strong, and resourceful, but he was just a man. Albeit a strange, obsessive, mysterious man, but a man nonetheless. And she was an expert cat burglar. And Gotham was a big city. Surely, she could hide under his nose for a few short days without too much of a problem.

Once she was in the inner city, she got herself a hotel room. She could afford a pretty swanky one these days, between the money she had stolen from Falcone and the jobs she had pulled while she was away, and she wasn't about to deny herself any luxuries after a lifetime of struggling to get by. As soon as she had her cat taken care of—Patch, the only one she'd been able to take with her—she prepared to case the museum.

Selina already knew all of its standard security measures, of course, this was hardly her first time around the block, but there were bound to be some extra features set in place for the jewels.

There was going to be some big, fancy, charity party at the museum to reveal it. Several of Gotham's elite had already been invited to it, but anyone could buy a ticket, and the proceeds and donations were all split fifty-fifty between a foundation for the cultural restoration of the country who'd loaned the exhibit, and another one for cultural enrichment right there in Gotham. Selina, of course, had bought her ticket online in advance.

A year ago, before the flood, she might have been pretty worried about some of the people there recognizing her, and there was still a decent chance that some would, but since Falcone's death, and the inauguration of Mayor Reál, a lot of the city's old fat cats had been replaced with new ones, ones who wouldn't know her face, or at least not as well. Still, she had decided that a new wig and some heavy contouring were in order.

She had chosen the name Catarina Abbot as her cover, and she'd been practicing a traditional southern belle accent as well. No one would ever suspect it was really her, of that, she was all but certain. Or at least, no one who wasn't already in on the con.

It didn't take her too long to get ready, although the stark contrast between the sleek black gown with its rhinestone trim extending down to her ankles, and the tight club outfits she once wore that never dropped below her mid-thigh, would take a little bit of getting used to. She took a taxi to the museum, stepping out onto the long, maroon carpet that had been laid out from the curb all the way to the front door. Clouds hung low in the sky, but the weather forecast had promised that it wasn't going to rain, and it hadn't yet. Selina wasn't about to start holding her breath for it to stay dry though.

Gotham and rain were like cats and claws, to remove the latter from the former would be inhumane. Gotham needed rain like it needed gargoyles, and lead paint, and the sound of gunshots varying distances away every half-hour. These were the things that made it uniquely Gotham, and not some other urban city that smelled like pollution and hot garbage, and looked haunted beyond belief.

Selina smiled at the news cameras, waved, said nothing. As soon as she was inside, her shoulders drooped with relief. Hopefully the makeup was enough that no one would be able to recognize her in the photos, at least not for long enough that she could make her getaway with the goods. She unconsciously tightened her grip on her clutch purse, her sharp, expertly manicured nails digging into the black satin, and sashayed confidently toward the wall.

The main hall of the museum, where the party was being held, had high, arched ceilings with a row of short, wide, windows at the top of the walls. Colorful paintings of nature by a long dead local artist of some renown hung liberally on the cream colored walls, with little brass plaques next to each, declaring the titles and some commentary of the paintings. In the center of the room, was the same tall, black marble statue that had been installed when the museum first opened, decades ago, of a woman cradling a pair of snarling grotesques like babies in her arms.

If Selina's memory served, there had been quite a lot of controversy around the statue. The artist had been commissioned to create a statue which encapsulated natural history in Gotham, and there had been a minor uproar about what the artist had actually delivered not fitting the bill. The artist had argued intensely in the statue's favor, and in the end, refused to make a new one, but accepted a reduced payment for the commission provided they actually displayed it, and as the museum had not had enough money to hire another sculptor, the statue remained.

It was called Mother Gotham and her Beloved Children, and as the years passed, patrons and employees of the museum alike grew quite fond of the marble woman and her monstrous young. Selina herself had stared at it in awe for nearly an hour when she'd gone on her first field-trip to the museum as a schoolchild. She couldn't help staring at it a little, even now. They sold smaller versions in the museum gift shop, when the museum was actually open—paper-weights and key-chains. Perhaps she should come back during normal hours and buy one.

She tore her gaze away from the statue to take in the crowd of guests. Women in luxurious gowns, and well-dressed men in suits mixed and mingled throughout the room. Many of the men stared at her, even here, but not in quite the same way they did at the Iceberg Lounge. Their lasciviousness, though certainly present, was much better concealed. It was a nice party, after all, and they had to be on their best behavior. A woman in a dark purple gown, one with layers of tulle and ruffled shoulders, stopped Selina to compliment her on her dress.

"It suits your figure so well, dear, wherever did you get it?" the woman asked.

"Versace, I believe," Selina laid the accent on thick, but spoke casually, as if she couldn't be bothered to remember which luxury clothing brand had made the most expensive gown that she had ever worn in her life. "But of course I never wear anything that I haven't had fitted by my personal tailor. I do say, she's an absolute miracle worker."

"I can see that," agreed the woman, looking Selina up and down enviously. "Although with a waistline like yours I'm sure it's not too hard to be. Delia Maracus," she introduced finally, gesturing to herself with one hand, and then to the rest of the museum with the other. "My husband, Simon, is the museum curator."

"Catarina Abbot," Selina introduced, placing a hand delicately over her sternum and tilting her head politely, "Collector of fine things."

"Ooh, well doesn't that title have a nice ring to it," Delia remarked, her golden curls bouncing as she leaned closer with interest and then back again with a gentle shake of her head. "I wish I could call myself something that classy, but all I collect are vintage perfume bottles and dusty old books." She laughed at herself, and Selina smiled gracefully.

"Those things are plenty fine, Miss Delia," she said kindly. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, after all. I just so happen to be partial to a cat's eye."

"That's nice of you to say. I've got more of a sheep's eye, most of the time, ha ha." Delia's attention was diverted by something over Selina's shoulder. "Looks like I'm needed elsewhere. It was so lovely meeting you, Miss Abbot, do enjoy the party, won't you."

"Please, Catarina," Selina told her, stepping aside so she could walk past. "And thank you, I intend to."

The Jewels of Jeresta were displayed under bulletproof glass casings in a smaller exhibit room off the main hall, all the way on the far side from the front entrance, and Selina began to make her way toward it as inconspicuously as she could—slowly, keeping to the edges of the floor, smiling politely and making idle small talk with those who approached her, putting forth a concerted effort not to be too reciprocal of their interest in her, so as to discourage them from taking too much of her time.

Then a small voice spoke from behind her. "You look beautiful." Selina turned to see who had spoken, and when she saw him, she blinked in surprise. Though he was quite a bit taller than her, the slope of his shoulders and the angle of his head made him seem slightly smaller than he actually was. His eyes were fixed on her face, but didn't quite meet her own eyes. "My name is Bruce."

"I know who you are, Mr. Wayne," she told him. Reclusive as he was, or had been before she skipped town, everyone in Gotham knew who Bruce Wayne was. She had heard that he'd started making more public appearances ever since the flood, but she definitely hadn't expected to run into him herself during the brief period while she was back in town. He smiled when she spoke, a small, sweet smile, with a hint of humor in it.

"Bruce is fine," he told her, his eyes finally locking on hers for a few seconds before they shifted away. She thought it reminded her of someone else, but wasn't sure. Maybe it was more of a vague aura than an actual person. He certainly had an air about him. "And you are?"

"Catarina Abbot," she said in answer. "You may call me Catarina, if you'd like."

"Catarina," he repeated, and that hint of humor flickered a little brighter behind his blue eyes, like somehow he got the joke, even though there was no way he could have. "That's a lovely name."

"Why, thank you."

"Are you an aficionado of culture, history, or rare and beautiful treasures?" Bruce Wayne asked, swirling the honey-colored drink in his champagne flute. "Or are you just here for the champagne?"

"I have been noted as a collector of fine things," she answered after allowing the joke an airy laugh. "An experience like this one is a fine thing indeed."

"So the treasures, then. Have you seen the exhibit yet?" he asked. "It's quite a sight to behold."

"I've been moseying that way," she admitted. As a guest, she was all but expected to go back and look at the exhibit at least once. There was nothing suspicious about that. "I have been looking forward to it for some time."

"I'd be happy to escort you," he offered, extending an arm for her to take. Though a bit surprised, she accepted, and allowed him to walk her back to the exhibit room where the Jewels of Jeresta were being displayed.

The jewels were breathtaking, and she couldn't wait to steal them. Unfortunately, with Mr. Wayne in the room, watching her with that dopey look on his face, she couldn't look too closely at the security measures without arousing suspicion. Selina made mental notes of the ones she could see without being too obvious about looking. Cameras, of course, motion sensors, the glass casings were sealed against the display podiums, but she couldn't see the release mechanism from where she was standing, and trying to look behind or under would be too obvious.

"Gorgeous aren't they?" Bruce Wayne asked her, and she was struck again by just how soft his voice was. She'd never imagined a billionaire CEO would speak in such gentle tones.

"They are just ravishing," Selina agreed. "Some of the most stunning pieces I have ever laid eyes on. Why, it's a privilege just to look at 'em. I ought to thank the museum curator for his good work."

"I'm sure it was no easy feat, convincing the country of Sanamiguay to loan a collection like this to Gotham," Bruce said. "They've loaned these jewels to museums around the world before, but Gotham's... reputation tends to deter some."

"A reputation well deserved," Selina scoffed, her accent almost, but not quite, slipping as she said it.

"Perhaps," Wayne agreed, nodding and looking back at the jewels behind the bulletproof glass. "But I have faith that Gotham can change. At least, I think it's worth the effort to try."

"Why, Mr. Wayne, you're much more of an optimist than I ever imagined you'd be," Selina remarked. "Listen to you, all starry eyed and dreaming of sunshine."

"Have you lived in Gotham long, Catarina?" he asked. "Judging from your accent, I'm guessing you're not from around here."

"No, I'm from Georgia, the city of Savannah," she told him, "but my family's done business in Gotham since I was a girl. I've seen the city you have faith in, and I wouldn't be so bold as to say that faith is misplaced, but... well, let's just say that I am not of the same opinion."

"I guess you're not entirely wrong to disagree." Wayne shrugged and shifted his weight so he further obscured the camera she was trying to see behind him. "Most people disagree with me. I just don't think everyone should be so quick to write this city off as a lost cause. At the very least, we can have a little hope, can't we?"

"I suppose."

Wayne kept her talking for some time before someone finally interrupted them and dragged the man away, his face scrunching up in displeasure for a moment before he visibly forced a more pleasant expression and allowed them his attention. When the opportunity presented itself, finally, to properly inspect the room, Selina took it. Then she slipped away, out of the exhibit room, and out of the museum, before Wayne tried to engage her again.

It wasn't that she didn't like the man, but he seemed to like her a great deal, and she couldn't afford someone like that getting attached, not when she was planning to disappear without a trace after the job was done. Men with his resources could find her anyway, if she wasn't careful, and in her experience, no matter how polite and seemingly respectful they were, wealthy and influential men could not be trusted.

The next few days, she spent planning her heist. Marking up her entry and exit routes, acquiring or making the necessary tools to enact her plan without any snags. She had every detail accounted for, from the entry to the escape, as meticulous as her pointed nails, and as clear as her objective.

She broke in through one of the high windows, scaling down the wall on a rope she'd tied to the roof. Those windows didn't lock, since they were considered too high up to present a viable security risk. The room with the Jewels of Jeresta had no door, just a wide arched entryway with motion detectors near the floor which activated when the museum closed, but were laughably easy to step over.

Upon inspection, she saw that the sealed glass covers required a key-code to unlock. Lucky for her, she had no intention of unlocking them. She had gotten her hands on a diamond-edged cutter, which she used to slice a circle into the bulletproof glass and reach inside for the jewels. Diamonds really were a girl's best friend.

So far, everything had gone off without a hitch, which of course meant it was time for someone to throw a wrench in her well-oiled machine.

"I'd almost be impressed if I wasn't so disappointed in you, Selina," came a voice from behind her, and she whipped around to see the Batman standing there. "I've already set off the museum's security alarm. The cat's out of the bag. Police are on their way now."

"Then I guess it's time for me to go," she said, snatching up the jewels from the case she'd already opened and sprinting at the Bat. She had hoped that, by rushing him, she could catch him off guard and slip past. She should have known better.

Her back slammed hard against the wooden floor as he hit her in the chest and shoved her down. She was only pinned for a moment before she wriggled out, wrapping her legs around his neck and forcing him sideways before he wrenched her off of him.

They continued their little back and forth with Batman snatching the jewels from her grip one after another and Selina slowly rotating the fight until their positions in the room were switched. Her hands were empty by the time she was on the other side of the archway with her exit route finally clear, at least until the cops arrived. She wished she could nab at least one of those jewels, but if she didn't split now, she'd be caught.

"Thanks for mucking everything up for me again, Vengeance," she sneered at him, and sprinted full-tilt back to the rope she'd climbed in on, scaling it with record speed and cutting it behind her, letting the Batman, who was climbing up after her, fall to the floor. "This was supposed to be easy. Damned Bat."

She wouldn't admit, or even acknowledge, that it had been kind of nice to see him again, despite the circumstances. To see that he hadn't gotten himself killed on his stupid mission just yet, to fight with him, that little back and forth that constituted the first contact she'd had with the man since leaving. No. She was too frustrated to acknowledge any of that.

She ran and leapt across the city rooftops with feline grace, and was halfway down the block before she saw him chasing after her. Apparently the setback of the rope being cut hadn't slowed him down for long. She cursed under her breath and sped up, running as fast as she could as long as she could.

Glancing over her shoulder every few minutes, she kept going, and going, waiting for one of them or the other to trip, let coincidence decide her fate, whether he would catch her and turn her in, or whether she'd escape to steal something else another day.

Finally, she came up against a rooftop with nowhere to go. She couldn't turn, the gap between the roofs on either side was too wide for her to jump it, and she couldn't keep going straight unless she wanted a three story drop into a face-full of sand, broken glass, and whatever other shit ended up on Gotham Beach. Selina skidded to a stop before she accidentally hurled herself over the edge, and looked frantically around for another way out, finding none.

Taking heaving breaths, she tried to recompose herself, and she looked back at the man in pursuit of her. Once he got to her, she'd have to fight her way out again, and she didn't really like her chances, if she was being honest. Her experience and lithe body gave her the edge over a lot of opponents, but not Vengeance. He was bigger, stronger, just as fast, and as much as she hated to admit it, more skilled. His training must've been a lot more extensive than hers.

By the time he reached her, she still hadn't caught her breath, but she stood her ground nonetheless, and lashed out with her nails, aiming for the few square inches of flesh his suit left open. He blocked her easily and countered with a fist, which she narrowly dodged. Their exchange of blows continued, back and forth, a kick blocked, a swipe dodged, an elbow landed, but the recipient recovered quickly.

"You ruined everything!" she complained through labored breaths. "Do you have any idea how much money I would have made on that job?!"

"Is money more important than a nation's cultural treasures?" Batman asked. "More important than your city's reputation?"

"This city's reputation is garbage already," she insisted harshly. "You don't get to decide how I live my life, Vengeance."

"I'm not," he said, dodging another slash of her nails and countering with a sweep of his legs which she somersaulted over before launching herself into his abdomen. "But your life circumstances don't make you above judgment," he grunted, forcing her off of him, "or the law. You're free to do what you want, but not free of consequences."

"You couldn't have left me alone for one damn job?" Stumbling slightly, she regained her footing, but was too winded to attack again. She thought for sure he would be on her as soon as she stopped moving, but he wasn't. He allowed her to catch her breath, his imposing figure blocking any exit, but not making any attempt to catch or cuff her.

"No. Because stopping crime in Gotham is my job."

"Well, you've done your job now, crime stopped," she panted out. "You can go now, unless you plan to put me in handcuffs. That could be fun."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" His voice was as deep and even as it ever was but she would almost think those thin lips of his turned up at the corner, ever so slightly.

"Isn't that what you law enforcement types are into?" she asked, smirking back at him. "If that's what you wanted, you didn't have to go through all this trouble." He took a step forward and she almost took a step back, but she stood her ground.

"You seem... different now," he told her, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" she asked. He took another step forward, and she straightened her posture, almost daring him to keep closing in on her and see what would happen. He'd already chased her across two and a half miles of rooftops. It was a challenge she knew he'd take.

"Since you've left... you shoulder less," he said. Another step closer, and this time she had to fight herself not to meet him halfway. "Or you carry it differently."

"I like to call it financial security," she purred, then shrugged vaguely before adding, "and the knowledge that the bastard abuser who probably killed my mom, definitely killed my friend, and tried to kill me, is six feet under. I sleep a lot better these days."

"You really feel that much more comfortable knowing he's dead?" Batman asked her, disapproving but obviously unsurprised.

"I really do," she confirmed, and finally took a step his way. The sky was growing lighter, she noticed. The sun would be rising soon. "Don't you sleep better knowing a bastard like that is off the streets?"

"Someone else has already taken his place," came the response, and he took another step. The space between was only a few feet now, but it felt impossibly wide. At the same time, she wanted to close it and wanted him to stay far away. "That's how it goes. A falcon, a penguin, there's always someone that needs to be stopped."

"And a Bat's gonna stop them?" she asked, a light scoff on his name as she edged ever closer, but never quite close enough.

"I'm gonna try," he said. "Although, you certainly don't make it easy."

"Oh, come on, Vengeance, if it was easy, it wouldn't be fun," Selina teased, resting one hand on her waist and reaching the other up to his face. They were so, so close now, almost pressed up against each other. All she had to do was dig her claws into that pale flesh of his face, and she might distract him long enough to disappear. Her internal debate didn't come to any sort of conclusion before he caught her wrist and held it in a firm but gentle grip, rendering the question moot. "You do know what fun is, don't you, Vengeance?"

"I've heard of it," he answered, his voice so deadpan she let out a huff of laughter. Ever so gently, ever so sweetly, she pushed her hand further, caressing the side of his face, his mask, and his own grip loosened, his heavy black glove sliding down her forearm to settle on her bicep. She had to lean back, to look into those sharp, bright eyes of his. Absently, she wondered if he was wearing those strange video contacts he'd had her use to scope out 44 Below. If he was—and he probably was, since he was a paranoid son of a gun—they really weren't visible from the outside.

The sun was rising. Though the sun itself was hidden behind the city's ever-present cloud cover, it bathed the Gotham skyline in a beautiful orange-yellow glow as it crept up over the churning sea. The scene was too perfect, too beautiful, and Vengeance must have thought the same, because as she stood up on her toes, he leaned down to meet her, and their lips pressed together in a kiss, soft, but needy, gentle, but charged with emotion.

She deepened the kiss and he raised no complaints.

Then, finally, after a very long moment, which felt simultaneously like not nearly long enough, they broke apart. He searched her eyes, and she searched his, but what either of them were looking for, Selina didn't know. Then the Batman took a small step back, and released his steadying grip on her arm.

"Don't try to steal the Jewels of Jeresta again," he said firmly.

"What?"

"They should be appreciated through glass, and then returned to their country," he said. "Leave them alone from now on."

Selina looked at him curiously, wondering what was going through that head of his. "Alright," she agreed at length.

"Then go." She blinked at him in shock.

"That's it?" Her shoes clicked against the rooftop to punctuate her surprised step backwards. "You're letting me go? Are you even gonna call the fuzz?"

"I can still change my mind," he reminded her, and that was all the incentive she needed to walk slowly back toward the other edge of the roof and climb carefully down the drainpipe to the ground.

Once safely back on the sidewalk, she took off at a run toward where she'd parked her motorcycle. It was still there, even after several hours, which was a bit of a wonder, given the locale. She straddled it, revved the engine, and took off toward her hotel to pack up and get out of this city once again.

Patch greeted Selina at the door of the hotel room. He meowed softly and she knelt down to stroke the silky fur between his ears. "It's time to leave, again," she told him, stepping past the cat with purpose. She gathered together all her things, and packed them neatly away in her suitcase. This time, when she left Gotham, she really wouldn't be coming back. This time she'd go somewhere farther away, Metropolis maybe, or maybe somewhere even farther than that, like Chicago, or Detroit.

Anywhere but here.

For years Selina had been telling herself that same thing. Anywhere but here.

"Come on, Patch," she said, scooping up the cat once everything else was in her suitcase. He didn't complain when she gently placed him in the cat carrier. He'd always been so well-behaved when it came to traveling. It was what enabled her to take him with her when all the other strays she had taken in had to be left at an animal shelter. "Time to go."

It took one trip to take everything she had down the elevator to check out of the hotel. She secured Patch and her suitcase to her motorcycle, and she was off again, driving down the streets of Gotham, still early enough to beat commuter traffic. Skyscrapers flew past as she rode down the city streets, neon lights blurring in her periphery. Mist from the perpetually damp streets rose up in a plume behind her.

She was ready to leave this god-forsaken city in her rear-view mirror for good this time. Or so she thought.

The sea wall was in her sights, and Selina didn't slow until she'd almost reached Brown Bridge. Then it was looming in front of her, its towers a gateway to a greater world than Gotham, and yet... she veered to a stop, staring at it. She'd told herself that across the bridge was freedom, was a new life, but she'd already crossed it once, and already, she was back on the Gotham side again.

She'd had her freedom, and with it, she had returned home. She had enough money for now to live the life she pleased, to steal what she wanted and make even more without having to worry about resources. Freedom meant she could do or have whatever she wanted.

And yet... all her belongings still fit in a single suitcase.

She could carry everything she owned in the whole world on her motorcycle.

Maybe freedom wasn't packing up and leaving, going somewhere new every week, and never having any place to come home to. Or maybe it was, after all, what did Selina really know about it? She had been trapped under the thumb of rich assholes, of poverty, of debt, fear, and shitty circumstances her entire life. But if it was, maybe that wasn't the kind of freedom she really wanted.

Maybe freedom was traveling the world, stealing what she wanted, and then coming home, to a nice apartment with more than just Patch, who would get lonely all by himself while she was away. She twisted in her seat to look at Patch in his carrier, at the black duffel bag that held all her mortal possessions. His big yellow eyes stared back at her, glistening in the early morning light.

As a kid, living in an orphanage, the thing she'd wanted most in the world was an actual closet, and not a black garbage bag stuffed under her bed. She had wanted to be one of those women she only saw in movies and magazines, with a new dress every day and dozens of pairs of shoes, and jewelry for every occasion. That had been her idea of decadence, of luxury. She owned two pairs of shoes now, six outfits, three wigs, and hardly any jewelry. It wasn't like she couldn't afford it.

Maybe it was time for Selina to try being a pampered house-cat for a while... after all these years of being a stray. If she didn't like it, she could always go back. If she kept running, she might not have this chance again, this chance to have an actual home. Her hands moved before she had consciously made up her mind, revving her motorcycle and making a U-turn back into the city.

She could spend another few nights at a hotel while she looked for apartments, then once she was settled in, she could look for her next score, and it could be anywhere in the world. And when she finished the job, she would have someplace to come back to. Back in Gotham. Back home.

She rode back past the dingy buildings, past the broken signs and flickering lights, past the cracked sidewalks, past the boarded windows. It was a shit-hole of a town, and that would never change, she was sure. But she'd never truly hated Gotham for what it was. It was a filthy, crime-ridden city full of wretched, awful people.

But it was also full of empathy, of compassion. Not from the crime-lords, and gang-bangers, and skeevy, greedy socialites who cared only about themselves, of course. But the general population of Gotham understood better than most that they were all in the same rotting boat. And if that boat was sinking, and lord knew it was sinking, they'd teach each other to swim.

And Selina? She knew how to swim.

Her bike roared down the road as the city began to wake up.

On a rooftop, overlooking the streets, the Batman smiled.

#dc #batman #the batman 2022 #batfam reverse big bang 2023 #batfam big bang #selina kyle #bruce wayne #fic #things i wrote

[kyloxox]

Let's Play A Game (Edward Nashton/The Riddler x Reader)

Summary: you were kidnapped by riddler. scared he will hurt you, you think you’re safest bet is to comply to him and his confines. but he finds it boring.

Warnings: NSFW, non-con, elements of stockholm syndrome, oral sex, blowjobs, ed is low-key a virgin, rough sex, hair pulling, slapping, spanking. 

“Why do you just lay there all day. Every day.” You at him horrified at the tone of his voice.

“What you want me to try and escape so you can kill my family.” You snap back. His face turned from a blank expression to a smile happy at your outburst. 

“I want you to be more entertaining. Do something. Fight back. If not, maybe I will kill your family and you.” You look down at the floor. 

“Let’s play a little game kitten.” He crouches down to the height of where you are on the mattress on the floor. “I am going to leave the pretty door open. You are going to leave and then I am going to chase you. When I find you, I’m going to punish you for running away.”

“That’s stupid why would I get punished for running away when you’re asking me to run away. I’m staying here.” You cross your arms over your chest and move your head away from him. 

“THAT’LL RUIN MY GAME.” He screams in your face. You scrunch up your face. “If you don’t want me to kill you or anyone you claim to love then play my game.” He grits into your ear. 

“Yes sir.” You say on the verge of tears. He chuckles. He just puts on his mask and stands up. 

“Good kitten.” He stalks out of the room. You notice that there is not a click of him locking it when he leaves. You stay still for a moment waiting for him to make a decent distance from you. He really did leave the door unlocked and you really could escape. You knew exactly where to go.

You run out the door and up many stairs. Then you reach outside in an alley. You look around and see him no where around. You run a few blocks until you are on a main street. You read the signs and head to the police station. Jame Gordon was the man you needed to save you. You knew this was risky to even head towards the station, you should have run the opposite way. Towards the bridge. Get a taxi and run free. You debate the options in your head. You start running towards the station. 

The adrenaline you’re feeling makes you feel like Batman. You feel like a hero. You’re gonna help the police catch this man. The riddler, who's killed dozens. Then you think about him. Sick, twisted, sad. He is very sad to you. Living alone in a city like Gotham probably sucks. Maybe he just wanted someone to keep him company- 

Fuck what are you thinking? He was your captor. He was holding you hostage. He doesn’t deserve sympathy.

You reach it in quickly 20 minutes. You’re standing on the stairs that ascend to it. Right when your foot hits the first step. A hand wraps around your mouth and a tight grip on your hands.

“Caught you.” You wanna scream against his grasp. You don’t not at first. You wanted to cry. You were so stupid. You should have ran out of the city, but who were you kidding he would have found you either way. He releases your mouth. He know you won't scream. This gives you a chance to turn your head to see his face. He isn’t wearing the mask or his normal green outfit. Of course he changed he can’t be walking around in broad day like looking like that.

But now seeing his face, you’re perceiving him differently. He’s a real man. With a real face, real features, real hair. If you weren’t scared shitless you would say he’s attractive. He has a soft face with soft features. Brown hair and brown eyes. Small lips that are curled into a smirk. He knows you’re staring. Mesmerizing his features. Enjoying the face that’s before you. You start to shake your head before you turn your face forward again. He pulls your body along with his as he walks you back to his apartment. When you reach his apartment, you realize he rearranged things. There is an actual bed, with a bed frame. Not just a mattress on the floor. 

“Cleaned up for me?” You say with a smirk. He doesn’t say anything as he pushed you into the center and locks the door. “What’s my punishment? You gonna cut off my toes? Shave my head? Sell me?” He looks over at you with a soft smile. It sends shivers down your spin. How can this insane man have such a soft and cute smile. 

“I think you’ll enjoy the punishment. Whether you want to or not.” You blink your eyes at his once again soft voice. Instantly you knew what he wanted.

“Please no. I-I-I-can’t-” He doesn't listen to you. 

“Get on the bed.” He says in a darker tone. You comply and reluctantly get on the bed. You lay down staring up at the ceiling. Soon your vision is blocked by his face. He moves your face into yours and captures your lips into his. You don’t kiss back. You can’t your face feels numb. He moves his hand up the caress your face. The feeling of his skin on yours goes straight to your core, even though you tried your hardest to ignore the feeling. Out of nowhere the hand caressing your cheek softly is lifted and swatted back at your cheek. It stung but it was another feeling that went to your panties.

“Kiss me back.” He grits against your lips. You comply and begin to kiss him back. He’s a bad kisser. You imagine that he’s probably kissed very few people in his life. He can’t quite reach your lips in the right place for you both to be connected. You suppose that’s a good thing. It can’t make you even more horny than you are right now. You feel his boner against your leg. It feels heavy and thick but you can’t tell fully.

His hands move down your body. Caressing your soft skin. You don’t want it to have an effect on you but it does. Your body trembles and he laughs at the sudden shake of it. 

“So sensitive. So helpless.” He chuckles. He moves his hand toward the thin shirt he had given you, he brushes your already hard nipples against his cold finger tips. He lifts your shirt and grins widely at the sight. He leans in and begins to suck on one of your nipples while, like caresses the other one, playing with it lightly. 

You can tell he’s bucking his hips into the bed but out of nowhere he freezes all movements. He pulls back from your breasts and the look on his face is something you’ve never seen before. He looks mortified and embarrassed. You look back at him confused as well. You then feel like wetness of his boxers cling to your leg and you register what just happened. You let out a chuckle as you realize your captor, the great riddler came to sucking on your tits and the friction of his rickety bed.

“Did you just come in your boxers?” You say almost too happy about this moment, it has to bruise his ego. His embarrassment quickly turns into anger as his hand quickly grabs your neck and squishes it. The happiness in your body is being slowly squeezed out of you. He flips you over his lap. He starts spanking you at a quick pace. 

“Shut up whore. You don’t get to speak.” He continues his harsh and feral slaps to your ass. You moan out. It hurts. They’re hard and loud against your sensitive skin. He roughly pushes you off of him and you fall to the group with a yelp. He stands over you with a menacing shadow. “Get on your knees.” He grits out. You know not to ignore his requests right now. Immediately you’re on your knees. He pulls out his dick. You can talk all the shit you want but he was a nice dick. It's long and thick, with veins all around his base. 

He doesn’t say anything he just grabs your hair and guides your face onto his dick. You welcome him in your mouth with a moan but he quickly picks up the pace. He shoves it down your throat and you begin to choke around him. He doesn’t let up though, it only encourages him to go faster and deeper. Soon he keeps a brisk pace as he face fucks you. Tears start to stream down your face and your nose gets stuffy. He can tell you are struggling and he fucking loves it. 

“This is what happens to whores who disobey their masters.” You want to roll your eyes. “Does it hurt?” He grips your hair harder and you wanna cry harder but you can’t with his cock taking away the rest of your senses. He finally gives you a break and removes your mouth from his cock. You look up at him. He looks satisfied with his work, it makes you want to vomit, knowing that you’re satisfying him. 

“Take off your pants and get back on the bed.” His voice haunts your visions. Like you’re brainwashed you get up, take off your pants and panties and get on the bed. You then lay down. He crawls on top of you and begins to skim his fingers through your folds. 

“So wet kitten. For me?” You don’t say anything. His fingers feel too good and you don’t want to give in. “Ow now she wants to be quiet. Let’s see if she can be quiet with my cock inside of her.” He puzzles as he slowly pushes himself into you. You grit your teeth to try and stop yourself from making a sound.

The face Edward makes is another moment of weakness for him. He looks like he’s in so much bliss, like he’s never felt the feeling of a hot wet cunt around him. You huff in amusement and he notices. He grits his teeth and starts picking up his pace of his thrusts. “Stop doing that. Making fun of me.” He grits and moves his hand back to your throat to squeeze it. You nod as the pressure starts to hurt more than be pleasurable.

“Yes sir.”

“Oh would you look at that you’re learning. Good kitten.” Your cunt pulses around him at the nickname. He lets out a deep, breathy moan. You're climbing closer to release than you thought you would with him. But with his thickness and brutal thrusts you feel yourself clam up. 

“Tight fucking pussy. Tight fucking pussy just made for me. I knew from the moment I saw you, you were made for me. Whoever is the higher power put you on this earth for me and I needed to claim you. And now you're all mine.” His words disgust you and bring you closer to orgasm more than you would like. 

“You wanted me that bad?” You ask out of impulses. Fuck you sound so pathetic. Were you really that desperate for someone to want you, you’d like it from your captor. God you were loosing your mind in this place.

“Wanted you so bad. For so long.” His thrusts and words finally cause you to come undone. Your cunt spasms around him and you wave out your orgasm. “Shit. Fuck. That’s right come like a slut on your M-master.” As you ride out our high, he keeps thrusting which hurts your cunt. “Say your sorry for running away.” He grits in your ear.

“I’m sorry.” You squeak out.

You can tell he’s close. His eyes are glued shut, his thrusts are more sloppy. “I'm gonna come.” You nod at his request and he comes inside you. You feel him fill you up with the sticky substance. He pulls out of your abused pussy slowly. He collapses next to you, worn out. You also just lay there, breathing heavily. 

You turn on your side, ashamed of yourself. His come is dripping out of you onto the sheets. You could easily run out the door, he’s tired, basically falling asleep but you don’t. You let him come up from behind you and wrap his arms around your waist. And then you also close your eyes, falling asleep in his arms.

#edward nashton x reader #edward nashton #Paul dano #paul dano riddler #riddler x reader #riddler #dano!riddler #dano!riddler x reader #the batman #dc comics #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #Paul dano x reader

[batsandbugs]

A Kiss With a Fist

AN: Hey everyone another fic coming at you! This is for the Maribat Drabble Exchange hosted by @eat0crow I’m so excited to be participating! My fic was for @pixiebuggiewrites​ who wanted a Daminette soulmate fic. Sorry I couldn’t squeeze anybody else in here it was already getting pretty long! I hope you all enjoy! You can also read it here on ao3! (Pictures are NOT mine)

Damian stormed away from the hotel, aggressively zipping his coat. He didn’t care where he was going, only that it was away from here.

He didn’t want to be in Paris. He didn’t want to watch out for incompetent amateurs. He didn’t want to ‘control your anger, Damian’. He wanted to be sent home.

The calm night taunted him, the Parisian streets were too bight and too clean, resembling nothing like his dark city. He missed patrolling, he missed his animals, hell, a part of him (a small, barely negligible part he would never admit to) even missed his siblings. But no, he was stuck here, under his father’s orders until the situation in Paris drew to a conclusion.

Considering it took five years for outside help to be even called in, he had no clue how long the mission would last. He still hadn’t met the so-called-heroes of Paris, but the research he conducted showed they were ill-trained, undisciplined, and relying on so much luck it was a fucking miracle their city wasn’t a smoking ruin by now.

He sighed, sticking his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He regretted not grabbing his gloves in his storm out. He’d been so irritated at his father that even though the man was on the other side of a screen, half-way across an ocean, Damian needed to physically leave to calm his anger. It left him little time to grab essentials for a chilly winter night like a hat, or gloves. He considered himself lucky for remembering to grab a coat at all.

He wandered for a solid hour, the cold sinking into his bones chilling the raging inferno that always seemed to bubble inside him. By the time he no longer wanted to scream at anyone, he was sufficiently lost, considering he hadn’t taken his phone with him either.

Coming to rest on a bridge he took a seat on a small bench. He puffed a warm breath of air into his chilly hands rubbing them together. Nighttime in Paris was so… different compared to Gotham. While big cities never truly slept, this was positively peaceful in comparison to what he was used to. He hadn’t even heard a single sound of ruckus or distress, which seemed strange considering the city was currently besieged by a magical butterfly terrorist.

Damian inwardly scoffed. Butterfly terrorist. True, being a Gothamite meant no room to judge, but he found it hard to think of a stranger string of words.

He sighed; Damian didn’t even know what his father wanted him to do here. Sure, he knew French and was a proficient fighter, but what could that even lend to the situation? They needed a detective, and, as much as he hated to admit it, Drake would have been the better option in that department. Unfortunately, he was off-world. Grayson was dealing with a problem in Hong Kong with Cass. Brown was paired with the rest of the Sirens taking care of Gotham along with Batman, and Todd…

Well, even he recognized what an awful choice Todd would be against a villain who literally used strong negative emotions as his weapon of choice. Damian had a temper; Todd was a ticking-time-bomb.

A high-pitched screech cut through the night air, before being noticeably muffled. Damian was on his feet and running before he even mentally acknowledged it. The thud of his boots on the cobblestone bridge sent small shocks through his legs. Another large clatter directed him off to a side street a couple of feet away. Three men had cornered a tiny slip of a woman, who held her purse like a weapon.

Damian saw red. “Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” he yelled in French. There was one benefit to being in a foreign city, Damian did not have to play the part of a clueless rich kid who couldn’t hold his own in a fight.

The brutes turned to him and grinned mean smiles. One guy stepped forward. “Come on man, we’re just having a little fun. You can join if you-” Damian cut off the disgusting words with a jab to the nose. Then he spun around, sweeping the second guy’s feet from underneath him, hitting him with a punch to the face to knock him out cold. The first guy hadn’t lost consciousness, but he was doubled over which allowed Damian to knee him in the stomach. Another punch to the face and he was out cold too.

He turned to finish off the last guy, only to see the woman roundhouse kicking him to the head. The burly man fell with a thud. The alley turned eerily silent, the only sounds coming from the sharp breaths of both Damian and the girl. His pulse fluttered fast; the heat of the battle warmed his chilled limbs.

A red purse laid on the ground near his feet. Picking it up he walked over to the small woman, no teen she looked about his age, who was still sharply breathing.

“Here, this is-” a blur is all he saw before a sharp pain spread across his nose.

Did she-

Did she just punch him in the face?

The shock of it sent him sprawling onto the ground, and he blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. Damian cradled his throbbing nose, anger bubbled once more under his skin before-

*Zing*  

The connection hit him like a train. A deep well of rightness spreading through him. He looked up through bleary eyes to find the woman staring at him in similar shock.

“You’re my soulmate,” they sputtered at each other.

Damian inwardly groaned. The League made initiates kill their soulmate should they ever find them to prove their loyalty. He grew up never wanting to find his soulmate, knowing they would serve as nothing but a distraction and weakness. Even when he joined his father, the idea seemed an unneeded liability. Sure, his brothers found their soulmates within the superhero community, but what were the chances he would too?

A small whimper escaped the mouth of the guy lying unconscious on the ground, knocked out by the woman the universe thought would be the perfect match for him. Damian tilted his head. She might not be a superhero, but maybe the universe knew him better than he first imagined.

“OhmygoshIamsosorry!” the flood of words spilled from his soulmate’s mouth, her face a deep shade of red. “I was just-”

“Acting on instinct and adrenaline? Appropriate, considering the threat you just faced,” he said without anger. “Your right hook is sufficiently adequate.”

“Um… thanks? Are you alright though?” She extended a hand to help him off the ground. He took it, his larger hand enveloped hers, but she showed a surprising amount of strength as she pulled him up. The contact sent another *zing* through his body, smaller and more subdued though. Damian found himself reluctant to let go.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” He suffered worse in training before. With the initial pain dissipated, all that was left was a dull throbbing that would be gone by morning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said with a bright smile. He took the chance to finally observe his soulmate. She was small, couldn’t be more than 5’2, which meant at 6’1 he towered over her. She was of mixed descent, with dark hair spilling over her shoulders, and bright blue eyes. Her arms and legs were toned with muscle, and she held herself with grace and confidence. She wore a face of tasteful makeup and was clothed in a short red dress and a pair of strappy heels with no jacket in sight. He had no clue how she wasn’t freezing to death.

Her smile dimmed a bit. “Actually, no, I’ve had better days. Today has kinda been a perfect disaster; first I’m late for school, then I forgot my homework, and my class bully decided it was a pick-on-Marinette day. There’s a three-hour Akuma fight, involving mind-control, which is always a total drag. I finally get home to find my parents worried sick about me because I hadn’t answered my phone which got destroyed at the beginning of the fight. I go to my class’s senior Valentine’s day dance hoping to finally confess to the guy I’ve had a crush on for years, only to get humiliated because he already has a girlfriend, and everyone else in my class knew and decided not to tell me. When I get away not to cause a scene, not only do I forget my jacket, but I also get attacked by three bumbling idiots with more mouths than brains.” She chuckled, hollow and verging on manic.

Damian stood there, unsure how to take all of that. He filed away the fact she was being bullied, and that she commonly dealt with Akuma attacks. Both equally important, as far as he was concerned.

“Now, here I am, standing in front of my gorgeous soulmate I punched in the face, after beating up said earlier idiots, rambling my mouth off because I don’t know the meaning of the word chill. Yep! I’ve certainly had better days. Ohmygoshimatotalmesskillmenow.” She muttered the last part into her hands, but Damian understood her all the same.

He would come back to the gorgeous thing later.

“…Do you want my jacket? You look cold.” It wasn’t the smoothest thing he could have said, nor the most appropriate considering the mess of a day she’d had. However, the manners Alfred drilled into his brain came knocking and if he was cold with a turtle-neck long-sleeved shirt and a jacket, she must be freezing in all that… nothingness. He averted his eyes from her exposed skin, looking at her face instead.

His soulmate looked at him for a long moment, before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“You know what, yeah, a jacket would be nice,” she said in a tired voice. Damian shed his coat quickly, not minding the sharp sting of cold that hit him. He helped his soulmate into the sleeves and took an odd little pleasure in seeing how tiny she looked in the folds of his jacket.  

“I’m Marinette, by the way, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She wrapped the jacket closer cuddling into the heat. “Sorry for kinda freaking out on you there.”

“The kind of day you’ve had has surely broken lesser mortals. Any coping method is your due. I’m Damian, Damian Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you Marinette.” He smiles, although the gesture feels odd, trying to appear non-threatening. While his soulmate (and maybe he was coming around to this faster than he thought possible) was obviously skilled at dealing with a variety of stressors, he didn’t want to add any more and risk her being akumatized.

“You as well Damian.” She shivered despite the added protection of his coat, as a gust of wind swept through the alleyway. “As much fun as this conversation has been, it might be best for us to get out of the cold.”

“Indeed. What will we do with these inconveniences?” he asked, poking one of the guys with the tip of his boot.

She sighed, picking her purse from the ground where he’d dropped it. “We’ll call the police to come pick them up. They’ll be cold, but fine.”

Damian scowled, “It’s better than they deserve.” He sneered at the guy who offered for Damian to join them. Join them in assaulting this tiny, bright girl, who’d been through enough. His soulmate. The bubbling rage began anew, and he wished he’d done more than just knock them unconscious, they deserved far worse for thinking, daring, to touch-

A small hand rested on his arm, dragging him out of his violent thoughts. “I’m fine Damian. Even if you hadn’t arrived, I would have been fine. I can hold my own in a fight. This is Paris after all.”

“Tt,” Damian scoffed. “Fine. We’ll leave them to their fates.” And if their fates happened to involve complete ruination of their online lives, credit scores, and secure information? Well, that was hardly his fault, now was it?

“There’s a good café opened late around the corner. Would you- would you like to go there?” Marinette asked.

Damian smiled at the tentative offer. “I would very much enjoy that, yes. I’ve been out for longer than I should, coffee would be great right about now.” She giggled and he felt his stomach flutter. Funny, giggling always annoyed him, but that bright clear sound... he could grow used to that.

Walking out of the dark alley, listening to Marinette talk to the police on her phone, Damian sighed. The streets no longer felt too clean, or the lights too bright. Yes, he was colder, and yes this was a complication, but for some reason, Damian could not bring himself to care.

Maybe Paris wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#fanfiction #damian x marinette #daminette #damianette #maribat writing exchange #maribat #marinette dupain Cheng x Damian wayne #maridami #damimari #marinette x damian

[ketchupqueenboiiii]

Black Cat and Desert Flower

'Kaldur, what are we doing in Paris? We finished the mission, we should be heading back home.' Said Robin, via mind-link.

'Patience, my friends, I arranged for us to have a day in the city. A vacation, if you will.' Aqualad said to the team.

'Kaldur, I don't know if you noticed but it's night.' Kid Flash was also getting impatient.

'Why are we standing under a bridge with a bunch of locks on it?' Superboy asked. He hated not knowing things.

After busting a minor league drug ring in Versailles they expected to relax in the Bioship until the arrived back in the US, not stand under a bridge.

'Can you at least tell what we need 'patience' for-' Kid Flash whined until he was interrupted by a voice.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my city?" The voice was like steel. In a way it sounded like Batman's. Not in sound, but in its tone of command. It sounded young and feminine.

'Brace your selves.' Said Robin, hands inching towards his tool belt.

'There are 6 of them. Should we attack?' Superboy adds.

'No. These are friends.' Aqualad sounded completely at ease. It would have calmed them if he wasn't always calm and collected.

Before they could refute he walked into the moonlight. They heard the voice take in a sharp breathe. So they recognized them, maybe it will prevent a fight.

"I am no less than a black cat." What? The team had no idea how this conversation took such a turn. What was she saying?

"And I am no more than a desert flower." What was their leader saying? It must have meant something because the voice squealed and a figure clad in red and black polka dots came barreling at him.

'Stand down.' He sound completely unbothered. How could he be so whelmed?

'But she's-' One tried to reason.

'Stand down, she is a friend.' He sounded, breathless? Something was going on, maybe M'gann should do a scan of his mind when they get back.

The force of the girl's impact knocked them both over. They were both smiling, eyes never straying from each others. They got a clear view to analyze the girl. She look developed and fit, but still pretty small. She shouldn't have been able to knock down a door, let alone a military trained Atlantean. Was this a secret Kryptonian?

"You're, you're here," she sounded out of breath, though clearly out of amazement rather than the run. "Oh kwami, it's been to long. Is Roy here too?" How did she know Roy? Did she know all of their civilian I.D.s?

"Sadly no, Speedy is not here. But my team and I are." He said as they stood up. They could see exactly what she was wearing. A red and black skin tight body suit with a open black leather jacket and a hood. The bodysuit was red down to her navel and black the rest of the way. Each of her palms had a black circle with a unknown ideogram in red on them. Her shoes were black army boots with red laces. So she has a theme.

She moved her gaze behind Aqualad to look at the team. They took note of her mask. Her hood covered her forehead and her eyebrows, and she wore a mask connected to her body suit that cover everything nose and down.  Leaving only her eyes exposed.

"Aqualad, who is she?" Artemis asked, hands already itching towards her arrows.

"Team, this is Ladybug. Ladybug, this is the team." He introduced, stepping away to allow them to assess each other.

"It's an honor to meet you all, Aqualad has spoken fondly of all of you. Welcome to Paris." She greeted professionally.

No one returned her greeting. They looked to Aqualad for more context.

He then gestured to Ladybug to speak. "You're probably confused as to who I am. I'm Ladybug, one of the heroes of Paris. We surfaced to reclaim a misused ancient magic artifact."

"Who is we?" Robin asked.

"Well, I realized that one city to one hero wasn't an equal ratio. So I formed a team to take some of the responsibility. Bunnix, Carapace, would you like to introduce yourselves?" A woman with an umbrella jumped from the top of the bridge and a man walked out from the shadow behind Ladybug. Both taller than her. Based on their themes, the man was Carapace and the woman was Bunnix.

"Sure thing, Boss." They said in unison and with exaggerated bows and salutes.

"Good Kwami, don't call me that." She said, pinching her nose.

"Our deepest apologies, Master. We beg your forgiveness." They spoke in unison again and with straight faces, too.

"God damn it, I'm not even fully trained-" She was interrupted by poorly muffled laughter behind her.

"Singe, you've been doing this for 3 years, and you still manage to reveal your presence in almost every situation-" Robin felt like he should interrupt before this escalates.

"Is that an umbrella?" He genuinely wanted to know.

"Are you judging? 'Cause, you shouldn't judge since you spent a year or so running around Gotham in green panties and a pole." Robin blushed in embarrassment. The team looked ready to fight these so called heroes.

"Ryu!" Ladybug reprimanded, looking affronted. Wait, Bunnix didn't say it? Then, who did?

"I'm so sorry about her. They're all really defensive about the umbrella." Okay?

"Who spoke then?" Kid Flash asked, still looking all little miffed about the comment.

"You know, Aqualad, there's enough of us for a spar." She said smirking, and ignoring Kid's question.

"If we're sparring, I want a few minutes with who ever said that stuff about Robin." He said glaring in no particular direction.

"Actually, I was thinking we do a group spar. Aqualad's team versus mine."  She suggested.

No one seemed to be against it.

"Okay then, prepare yourselves-" Aqualad started.

"Wait! I have to call of Pegasus." She brought her hand up to her ear and looked toward a building.

"Woah-woah-woah, hold up, you have a sniper?!" Kid Flash exclaimed, speedily looking around to see them.

"You have to be prepared for anything." She responded after finishing her comm-call.

"Yeah, but still, you have a sniper-"

A turquois portal appeared and a white-haired man in a brown leather bodysuit stepped out of it. His hair was held back in vertical braids gathered in a ponytail. He also wore pitch black sunglasses, even though it was the middle of the night.

"Hello." He greeted the teams before walking to stand next to Bunnix and Singe.

"Let's get ready to spar." Aqualad announced, walking not-to-subtlety towards Ladybug. The teams both walked of to strategize.

"You sure your ready to fight me again? It's been a couple months since our last spar." She quipped with pop of her hip and challenging smirk.

"If my memory is correct, you were the one with the losing streak." He smiled back with his patented sass.

"We'll see about that." They shared eye contact and a firm hand shake.

With a quick turn of a heel, "Formation!"

Bonus #1

For more context: Mari and Kaldur were not always this touchy feely. Mari spent a year or so out of Paris to train for Guardian purposes. She would have cataclysm herself before leaving Paris alone. But Tikki and Plagg convinced her that she was unstable with all of the guardian power and she would have to learn to control it. Outside of Paris. So they decided to give out the miraculous and have the new team pass around Tikki and she would take Plagg out of Paris (too many billboards and Plagg wasn't good at emotions).

So she was backpacking America, trying to find someone to help her. Unfortunately someone found her. Namely Aquaman and his partner.  Interrogating her just left them both offended.

But she did learn that she was now fluent in ancient languages, like the guardian language and Atlantean.

("What are you doing here?"

"That's not your problem."

"You sunk Atlantis! Of course it's our concern!"

"You Atlantean's think you're entitled to everything. That's why Plagg sunk your city."

"{In Atlantean} My King, should we take her to Poseidonis-"

"{in Atlantean} Excuse me, but I'm not going anywhere other than out of this cell."

"{In English} How do you-"

They call in the JL for backup and try to interrogate her, until Diana vetoes and pardons her. She offers to take her to Themyscira and train but Arthur vetoes that so now she's going to train with Roy and Kaldur. [Because they are the oldest and I believe that they worked together most pre-canon YJs1.]

{Whispers and Glares}"Atlantean bitch."

{Whispers and Glares} "Guardian scum.")

5 months and numerous fights later, Roy was tired friendTM of their shit and sat them down to make them talk. They spoke of both versions of the Sinking of Atlantis and came to the agreement that Plagg was sorry for taking things too far and that modern Atlanteans could not be blamed for the mistakes of one of their selfish past monarchs. [king whoever tried to use Plagg's miraculous to conquer and terrorize neighboring kingdoms, so in retaliation Plagg cataclysmed the entire country/city]

After getting over that they both realized, 'Hey, he/she's actually pretty cool."

Everyone kept in touch after she went back to Paris and bitched to each other about teammates and leadership and how it's, quote-unquote, 'unfair that it's legal for Mari to drink but not Roy'

I'm not good with timelines so I'm going to say that, Kaldur still has hopes for him and Tula, Mari's not entertaining anything more than friendship (no distractions), and Roy is too focused on teenaged rebellion.

#maribat #kaldinette #kaldur'ahm x marinette #reposted on ao3 and wattpad

[bat-losers-inc]

Song of Cassandra: Chapter 2

Warnings: Family Drama, Family Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotional Baggage, and Child Neglect

Summary: What is Batman without a Robin? Everyone in the family makes jokes about the ‘dead robins club’, but Dick and Jason really do have measures set in place for the day Bruce loses sight of what’s really important. They won’t let Bruce sacrifice another Robin for the cause, even if that means separating Robin from Batman for good.

Pairings: Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne, and Dick Grayson & Jason Todd

                            _____________________________________

Half a year later saw them performing a feat of brotherly bonding he’d never imagined possible: robbing Penguin together.

They’d left the Tricorner district behind in a streak of burnt rubber and a barrage of gunfire and ditched the getaway van in Chinatown at the first available 24-hour parking facility on the other side of the bridge. It was slower going on foot, but Chinatown’s busy night scene, combined with the heavy triad presence in this district, would make Penguin’s men hesitate before going in guns blazing. That was all the time they needed to slip away unseen.

Now, as they emerged from the darkness of the parking deck, Dick yanked the balaclava off his head. He grunted something unintelligible as he shouldered his way through the cluster of pedestrians that crowded the sidewalk.

“What?” asked Jason, pulling his own half-mask down from around his neck and jogging to catch up.

“I said, you’re a real bastard. You promised me this was would be easy!”

Jason glanced at him. He wanted to be sympathetic but he just couldn’t when Dick was glaring at him with that staticky mop of hair. He couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice when he replied, “You’re the one who said we shouldn’t leave a paper trail! This is about as easy as stealing from Penguin’s bagman gets.”

In truth, he thought they were complaining just for the sake of complaining. After six months they both knew that pulling off this heist was less a matter of choice and more a matter of necessity. Failure meant returning to the storage locker Dick had procured outside of Port Adams and staring down their measly little bat-trust-fund: six safehouses, fifteen rolls of Kevlar fabric, a small arsenal, twenty-seven contacts typed into a Word document, and $5,025 split five ways. But what use would kevlar suits be if their siblings couldn’t afford to keep a roof over their heads? No, without the cash it was worth fuck-all.

Dick looked like he wanted to argue the point further but at that moment a convoy of police vehicles shot past them, sirens wailing and horns blaring loud enough to deafen a person. No doubt by now Penguin’s men had informed their boss about the botched exchange and pinned the blame on their nearest rivals, the Ghost Dragons. If that was the case, then Chinatown was a powder keg ready to explode into a minor gang war at any moment.

A flash of light reflected off the windows of a nearby apartment building. Jason stepped in between two parked cars to get a better look and found himself staring up at the cloud-heavy night sky illuminated in the glow of the bat signal.

He gripped the heavy duffel bag full of stolen cash closer to his chest like he expected Gotham’s dark knight to swoop down at any moment and tear it from his shoulder.

“Hey,” Dick tugged at his arm. “time to go.”

Batman was on the way and like the best of Gotham’s criminals, Jason and Dick made themselves scarce.

It took nearly forty minutes and three subway lines to make their way back to the self-storage facility. By then a pale glow had crept up from the horizon and spread across the water. Around them, the street lights began to shut off one after another. In the distance, Jason could just make out a tugboat as it pushed a barge out towards the open ocean.

By the time Dick pulled the storage locker door down behind them, they were tired-eyed and footsore.

Jason threw the duffel bag onto a table and propped himself against it as he fished one-handed under his t-shirt to undo the straps of his protective vest. He sighed in relief as the weight lifted off his shoulders. “How the hell did you stand wearing these things when you were on the force? Even with the undershirt, the chaffing is god-awful.”

“You get used to it,” Dick replied, making quick work of removing his own gear.

Jason doubted it but he was too tired to argue his point further. Instead, he found the six-pack that he’d stashed under the table earlier that day and snapped off a can.

“Heads up,” he called, as he pitched a can underhand to Dick who caught it against his chest.

Dick held it up for inspection. “Warm beer. What I’ve always wanted.”

“Oh shut up and celebrate with me, you asshole.”

He extended his arm across the table. Dick knocked beer cans with him and completely failed at hiding the shy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, though god bless him he tried. “Cheers.”

Jason watched him crack open the top and chuckled as he hurriedly slurped at the foam that erupted over the rim. He knew that this morally gray lifestyle didn’t come easy to Dick but he couldn’t deny that he was happy he had stuck around with him for this long. He didn’t dare to say it out loud, but they actually made good partners.

He took a long drink from his own beer can before putting it aside. “Ok, come on. The faster we count this cash the sooner we can go to bed.”

Jason upturned the duffel bags, sending stacks of cash sliding out onto the metal tabletop while Dick pulled the banknote counter from the corner and lugged the machine up next to the pile. Together they started slipping the currency bands loose and feeding the stacks of cash into the machine, watching eagerly as the sum continued to tick upwards.

“Soo…” Jason drummed his thumbs on the table as the numbers continued to flash on the small screen, “How are things going with you and Babs?”

“What?” Dick’s eyebrows drew together. “Why?”

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m a little curious about what she thinks you do when you’re out late all the time… also, I’m bored.”

“You’re weird, is what you are.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Seriously? We’ve only spent the past six months together moonlighting as vigilante survivalists and I can’t ask one time how your love life is going.”

“No, no. Sorry, you’re right.” Dick held up a hand. “I told her I’ve been helping you out with an undercover case for a couple of months now. Said I owed you a favor.”

Jason grinned at him. “Well, that’s not a lie. Quite a few actually, but who’s counting.”

Dick punched him in the shoulder. “Actually, I should call her. Reassure her you didn’t get me killed before she calls in a search party.”

Jason chuckled and went back to the task of feeding bills into the machine as Dick rummaged through the backpack and fished out his phone.

“Hey, uhh...”

Jason glanced up and took in Dick’s furrowed expression as he stared down at his phone. He put down the stack of cash he was holding. “What’s the matter?”

“Something happened while we were out. I — shit I don’t know how to explain it but I’ve got like 15 missed messages from Barbara and Alfred. Did you bring your phone with you?”

Jason grabbed his backpack where his own phone was stashed and opened it to find a similar mass of missed calls and incoherently excited messages cluttering the screen. Some of the numbers he recognized, Steph, Barbara, and Alfred were all saved in his phone, but a few were from unknown senders. If he had to venture some guesses he’d say Cass, Duke… maybe Harper? Fuck, he never realized this many bat brats had his number. “I don’t get it… something about Tim? What about hell?”

“I’m calling Babs.”

Jason was aware of how uncomfortably loud their breathing sounded in the small storage locker as they stood around the table waiting for Dick’s call to connect.

“Dick?” Barbara’s voice asked loudly through the speaker. “Thank God! Where have you been? I’ve been calling and calling you.”

“Sorry, undercover mission, remember? What’s the big emergency? I didn’t get anything from Bruce.”

“You need to get back to the manor. Bruce found Tim!”

That didn’t make any sense. “What? You mean Bruce found Tim’s remains?”

Jason smacked his arm. “His remains? Are you fucking serious? What remains could Bruce possibly find after a death like that?”

“I don’t know, bone fragments—”

Dick’s argument sounded flimsy the moment it left his mouth and they both knew it. Jason just really hated to be the one who had to say it.

“If the heat from that explosion didn’t finish him off entirely then the pounding impact of like a hundred thousand missiles definitely did in whatever remains might have been left.”

“Guys—” called Babs.

“Oh, so you’re a forensic scientist now? You don’t know that—“

“Yes, I do!” He slammed a hand down on the table, his anger flaring. He really couldn’t do this backslide back into denial with Dick again. “There’s a reason we buried an empty box. Tim is literally dust in the wind.”

“Jesus Christ!” Barbara’s voice erupted loudly through the speakerphone. “Kill it with the broody back and forth already and actually listen to me, would you? I’m not talking about bone fragments or anything like that. I’m saying Bruce found Tim. Tim! He’s alive.”

Jason met Dick’s eyes over the phone, confusion written as starkly across Dick’s face as it must have been on his own. “What? I— What?”

“I really don’t understand it all myself. But Tim said he’s been held captive by Mr. Oz in another dimension for this whole time. Can you believe it? All this time we thought he was dead and...”

Jason didn’t catch that last bit. He was too busy bent over the table as all the blood rushed to his head.

He was gonna hurl. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

They’d all given up on the hope of Tim miraculously surviving a long time ago and this sudden news felt like he was experiencing emotional whiplash. This had to be some kind of sick joke or a trick... a doppelganger sent by the newest enemy on the rise against Batman.

Dick’s thoughts were apparently spiraling in the same direction as his own for he ran a hand roughly across his mouth and asked, “You saw him yourself? You’re sure it’s him, our Tim?”

But it wasn’t a big cosmic joke. As much as Jason couldn’t believe it, it wasn’t and that was made clear with every new piece of information Babs gave them.

“Yes, he was standing right in front of me only an hour ago — crying and hugging everyone.”

Dick turned to look at Jason, but he was already rounding the table and yanking Dick into a bruising hug.

“He’s alive,” Dick cried into the shoulder of his t-shirt. His voice overflowed with the most contagiously hysterical mixture of joy. Jason laughed through his own tears. “You bet your ass he is!”

He couldn’t explain what had come over him. He and Dick had never really been close — and they definitely weren’t huggers — but the last few months had been so full of this gnawing air of anxiety — their family continuing to fracture, the resources running dry — that the full realization was starting to hit them that this plan might have been formed too late to do any real good. They could feel the clock running out and they were both expecting the other shoe to drop any day now but then out of the blue… this.

Dick pushed away from him suddenly and wiped at his eyes.

“Uh…” he tried to clear his throat. “We, uh, we should get back to the cave and go see him for ourselves. Babs, he still there, right?”

“Yeah, Bruce is debriefing him.”

And just like that, Jason’s joy seized painfully in his chest. It hurt the way a seatbelt does in a car crash, knocking the air out of your lungs and bringing you up short. He watched Dick rush around him, grabbing up his belongings in a disorganized fashion.

“Dick, I can’t come with you.”

“What?” Dick asked, breathless. He turned back from the door. “Yes, you can. C’mon, get your stuff, the money can wait till tomorrow.”

Jason shook his head. Fuck, how the hell was he supposed to explain this to him without looking like the one asshole member of this family who didn’t want to visit his little brother recently brought back from the dead.

Dick paused, his hand dropping from the door handle. “What? Because of what happened between you and Bruce?”

I was a fool for ever believing in you. Even now Bruce’s words lingered at the back of his head. An invisible brand that still held its heat.

“Jason, I know what went down between you and Bruce was… heavy, to say the least, but you’re still family. You do know that, right? You’re still my family and if you want to see Tim, Bruce can do fuck-all to stop it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Jason could only huff a sad laugh at that because God did he want to believe that too, but he knew it wasn’t that simple. Tim would always be his family, but Bruce… he’d crossed a point of no return with Bruce on the night that the fortress was destroyed. The violence of his assault had done more than break a few bones— it had finally shattered that last shred of trust he’d stupidly harbored in him that when push came to shove Bruce would value the son over the soldier. I broke his rules for the last time and now he sees me as nothing more than an unredeemable criminal that escaped Batman’s justice. One of his little soldiers gone AWOL.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… I can’t face him yet— I—” he trailed off. He’d been laying low since his return to Gotham, but even still Jason thought the only reason he’d survived this long was because Bruce was too consumed with Tim’s death to spend a spare thought on him. He wasn’t ready to walk into that cave tonight and find out what would happen now that Tim was back in the picture and Bruce’s anger focused back on him.

It felt like a horrible selfish thing to think about saving his own skin when his little brother had come back from the dead, but as his eyes lingered at the collection of items piled around the storage locker he was reminded that no one was going to do it for him. After all, that was how this plan had all started right? Someone had to be the one to craft the safety net for the next Robin to fall of Batman’s mighty pedestal.

“You should go. Tell Tim I’m glad he inherited my cockroach-like ability to not stay dead.”

“Jason…” Dick twisted the jacket he held in his hands.

“Go.” It came out sharper than he’d intended, despite his best efforts to push his emotions down. He was quick to try to smooth it over with a tight smile that he knew fooled neither of them. “I’ll stop by his apartment tomorrow once all the hype has died down. Besides, someone needs to finish up here.”

He nodded at the banknote counter.

The one thing he’d always valued about Dick, more than his caring nature, was that he knew when to stop pushing an issue.

“Alright,” Dick shifted his grip on his jacket again. His phone was chiming once more in the back pocket of his jeans. No doubt another family member asking where he was. “I’ll call you tomorrow to check in.”

“Sure.”

After the door to the storage locker fell shut, Jason let his gaze travel around the room again. So Tim was back, alive and well as far as any of them were concerned. A nagging part of Jason’s mind wondered worriedly if gaining him back would slowly undo all the plans they had made together. Would Dick continue to worry about the next crisis to befall their little family or would Tim’s return renew his neverending faith in the impossible until he eventually forgot what it was that drove him to his breaking point?

Jason picked up another stack of banknotes and slid it into the machine. As the numbers continued to rise once more he did his best to prepare himself for the idea that he would be alone in this mission once more. Another bitter pill to swallow but he couldn’t do it. It lodged itself raw and unpleasant at the back of his throat.

#song of cassandra #batman fanfiction #bruce wayne #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #Tim Drake #hurt comfort #brotherly bonding #bruce wayne a+ parenting #emotional abuse #emotional whump #nightwing #red hood #robin #spoiler #Red Robin #DC comics #batman #My writing #LittleDarlingXOX

[malereader-inserts]

Gotham’s Sunshine

Fandom: Gotham Pairing: Gotham & Male!Reader Summary: Gotham has a lot of bad people, a rarely good people, but they have one sunshine and it’s their precious’ boy Word Count: 1,366 Warning: Descriptions of wounds and death A/n: I did promise that the next time I write a Gotham piece it would have a good reader or... is the reader actually good?

Gotham is a pretty gruesome place, if you think about it, how there are always villains arising every other week. The murders, robberies, arson that occur almost on the daily and how the weather is usually shit. But, there is one good thing about Gotham.

It’s the coffee boy. Radiating warmth and happiness, it seems like he brings his own light and sun, no matter how grey and rainy the outside world may be. His coffee shop is small, yet comforting, and not only that but it produces the best baked goods as well. It is the only place where the villains have kept their peace because you somehow put a spell on them.

You were always smiling, goofiness twinkling in your eyes. You were just a pretty boy, handsome and perfect hair. It was like unspoken rule between everyone that they do not want to piss you off. It was frequent to have two villains bump to each other in the cafe, with usual awkwardness, they seem to keep the peace level at the maximum. You often brush off the tension with a smile and a wink.

“Good morning Oswald,” You greeted at five in the morning, a light chirp to your tone, “Morning to you too, Zsasz.”

Oswald raised an eyebrow as Victor blushed at your wink to him, Oswald cleared his throat as your sweet look turns to Oswald, who flushes at your divine attention. He sinks down, almost submissive to your stare.

“The usual (Y/n), please,” Oswald requests, sweetly as you nodded.

Tapping on the screen as you got to work with the coffee machine. The barista has tired eyes, yet there is that glimmer, a give away of your good heart. You have one of those surviving sparks, one of the ones who held on to who they really are. You were true to who you were, you were never fake and never wanted more from the villains. You didn’t want money whenever bad people come to your coffee shop, begging you to take a sun of the money because you have such a whole heart that they want to keep you happy.

You never want to hire anyone to kill someone, Zsasz even offered for a free price but you refused because you don’t have a bad bone in you. Often at times, they wondered what it was like to be you. Soft, loving and understanding. You weren’t vindictive.

“Here you go,” You push two to-go cups and a brown bag of pastry goods, “That’s been 14 dollars.”

Oswald nods as he hands out you money, you smiled and put in the register as Victor pulled out his own money to give you a tip. You beamed as he pocketed the money away before the two men threatened any of your coworkers on how you get the money and they don’t. And you’ve seen many bad guys whip out a gun faster than you can blink. 

“Thanks, guys, if you’re lucky, you can miss Jim and Harvey...” You pointed behind them, as see Jim coming out of the police car.

The two nod, saying their thanks as they take their leave. Missing the two detectives quickly as you put on a smile, they wave at you as they enter.

“I take it, usual again?” You asked as your finger hover a black coffee for Jim as he nods, you tapped the screen as you looked at Harvey, “And you, Harvey? Black coffee too?”

“Ah- Uh, can I get one of those fancy coffee?”

“ Macchiato?”

“Yeah, that.”

You snorted as you nodded, tapping it before swirling to the machine. Usually early morning is just you in the coffee shop, seeing that you are nocturnal, but yet a morning person at the same time. 

“Anything entertaining?” You asked as you gave them their coffee and asked for payment.

“You ask this every time we come here.”

You shrugged your shoulder as Jim smiles at you, “It gets boring here quickly, I need gossip you know?”

“The more they know, the more likely you’ll get yourself killed.”

You slammed the register closed, the two detectives jumped and feeling uneasy at your joyful smile. You shrugged your shoulders, tilted your head.

“Doesn’t that make life a lot more exciting?”

“Did you hear?” 

Gossip started to travel in the police station as Jim looked at Harvey, who shrugged his shoulders. They went to Alvarez’s desk and asked about the gossip, the whispers that were happening.

“The infamous coffee and bakery cafe has been damaged, they found one body...”

“No, it can’t be-” Jim stuttered.

“(Y/n) (L/n) was found dead, a slit to the throat and multiple wounds,” The other detective hands Harvey the case files, “Camera was broken before the scene, no witnesses and no leads to go on.”

“I feel pity for those who killed his sweet man, I don’t think we’ll find out who did it before the bad guys of villains team up to kill this bastard that killed their one last thing of goodness,” Harvey was reading the file, for once interest at the words.

“We have to check up on them-”

“GORDON!” The detectives snapped their head at the entrance way to see Penguin, standing straight with murder in his eyes. Zsasz next to him as well as Edward Ngyma, his glasses down at the bridge of his nose. 

“Oswald-” Jim came walking at a fast speed, “I don’t know what’s the story, I’ve just found out.”

“Somebody killed out boy, Gordan,” Zsasz sang, before his tone dropping, “You do realise if you don’t figure it out this city will burn.”

“We will flip this city, if it’s needed,” Edward sneered, “I hope you’re aware, this will be the only time we will work together to find justice for (Y/n).”

“I’m aware, and I will do everything,” Jim nodded promising, “You’re not the only one who’s upset about his matter.”

“Say,” Harvey pipes up from behind Jim, “You still mayor, Cobblepot? Why don’t you make a funeral for (y/n), you’re the one that was the closest to him. I’m sure you can get busy with that whilst Jim and I will find evidence to his murder.”

Oswald looked irritated that he wasn’t going to be able to help and that he was pushed away from the investigation, but he had no faith in other bad guys of Gotham to take care of a funeral. 

“Fine, but keep us posted.” 

Jim nodded watching the bad guys slowly leave the station. He turns to his partner, telling him to talk to detective Alvarez to update him about all the information as Jim makes a call. Whilst Harvey looked sceptical, Jim rushes to the back exit of the station. Greeted by a mysterious figure.

“What’s your reason then?” 

Jim sighs, running his hand through his hair, “You had to get away from Gotham, it’s not a place for you.”

“I had my life here, Jim.”

“I know, but, live your life, travel the world, go get that degree you’ve been dreaming off. Gotham will always be here.”

“I don’t know about that, Jim, Gotham will be a different place when I leave, and I don’t think Gotham will be welcoming when I return.”

“You’ll be a different man, go, be free.”

“Promise me one thing, Jim.”

Jim tilted his at the request that was about to be spoken to him. The eyes boring into his, there was no sunshine or happiness. Just like that day, it radiated gloominess and rain. It was somewhat threatening.

“The only reason I am leaving Gotham is that I am the key to all things here. My request that I want you to promise is to make it believable.”

“Okay,” Jim nodded, watching the figure  turn around, and start walking towards a black car with tinted windows, “Wait.”

The figure looked at him.

“Have a good life, (y/n), I’ll see you soon.” 

Jim swears he sees a flicker of the smile that he was so familiar with. Before you sharply turn and get in the car. For the last time, Jim Gordon was the last person to see (Y/n) (L/n).

#Gotham #gotham imagine #gotham x male reader #x male reader #platonic

[random-imagines-blog]

Under Atomic Skies {John Blake x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2558 Summary: John Blake would do just about anything to keep his family safe.

You looked over at John as he came into your cozy little Gotham home. His mouth was set in a grim line against the contours of his handsome face. You could feel the stress radiating off of him. “Did the kids see?” He asked, turning off the television that you were sitting in front of. You shook your head in a no, and he sighed in relief. They were playing in their rooms, your son and your daughter. The blasts in the street had caused the house to rumble, but they didn’t ask any questions. They just played ‘earthquake’. You didn’t want to explain to them what happened until your husband, John, got home with his own explanation. And what he said, all of it, it broke your heart. This was the city you both grew up in. This was the city you had fallen in love in. Gave birth in, raised your kids in, got a mortgage in, worked in, made your home. And it was being threatened once more.

“There’s going to be riots, and looting, and who knows what else,” You said, your eyes looking over to the front door. There were three locks on it already, with John being a bit of a cautious man. With you being a cop’s wife. But those three didn’t seem enough when you were now the wife of the only cop, or detective, left to protect the city. The rest were caught in the underground. John’s partner included. “What are we going to tell the kids? Is Ross alright? Should we move to a safe house?”

“Ross is fine, I’ve already figured out where he is. There’s a sewer grate right above them, I can talk to him,” John said, which made you give your own sigh of relief. Your husband’s partner was like family, your kids even called him Uncle Ross. “I have hope in Gotham, we’ll get through this, sweetheart.”

But you weren’t so sure. You loved this city, but it tended to turn out bad people one after another. Thieves, mobsters, even an evil clown. And now this man who called himself Bane. It was safe to say that you were terrified, and wished that you shared in your husband’s positivity. In his hope. It was one of the things that you loved best about him. And things usually turned out pretty okay. The city had John Blake - it was going to be okay.

--

The days started to seem shorter as the countdown to the bomb began. There just didn’t seem to be enough time in the day to really appreciate each and every one. John was gone most of the time, working as a Detective, working with Batman, being the only cop in a city which was run by madness. You hardly ever left the house, and when you did, it was to go to the boys’ orphanage and help out there. There was no point in trying to work from home right now, the business was down the toilet. So you took on volunteering at the boys home, bringing your kids with you so you could keep an eye on them all at the same time. Father Reilly appreciated your help.

“It’s good for the boys to see a friendly face,” He admitted to you as you were passing out juice boxes to the kids. “All of them seemed to be glued to the news the days. They’re too young for such things. Too innocent.”

“If I wasn’t here, I’d be doing the same,” You admitted to the friendly father. You kept pressing that smile on your face, just as John did when he came home and gave the kids a huge hug each night. But the news was wearing you down. Scarecrow, Dr Jonathan Crane, was acting as judge, jury and executioner. All of the major shopping centers were looted as ‘wealth’ was dispersed in the way of material goods. You never joined in on any of that. You weren’t going to let the city take you down with it.

“There’s always hope,” Father Reilly said, putting his hand on your shoulder in solidarity. “That’s something I learned from being around these boys. No matter what life throws at them, they still play with a smile on their face.”

“It’s hard not to stay hopeful with John around,” you admitted, sitting on a bench with a juicebox of your own. You looked out over Gotham. There was still smoke in the air. There was always smoke in the air. The sounds of chanting from the courthouse. Vehicles still moving about down there, despite there really being nowhere to go. John had filled you in that one of those large trucks was carrying around the bomb, and your eyes caught on one as it turned a corner a few blocks down. It was terrifying, knowing that it was so close. But you still had a few days before it would go off. There was still time to find it. There was time to fix this whole mess. “Include John in your prayers tonight for me, father? It can’t hurt for us to be a little louder.”

“I already include him every night, y/n,” Father said, sitting beside you, stretching out his old leg bones. He was no longer the young man who used to chase John around this very building. The stress was taking a toll on him, and had even before the bombings. “And all of those officers stuck under the city.”

“They’re getting food and water, and vitamin D tablets,” You explained. “John and Ross have been keeping in touch. He’s even been scouting out an area where he might be able to get them out. He’s been working nonstop on this. I hope that when it’s all over, I can convince him to take a break.”

“Good luck asking him to take a break from anything,” Father Reilly laughed. It was the first real laugh you had heard since this whole thing began, at least from someone other than a child. It made you grin. You knew that it was absolutely true. John was one of the most dedicated people in this city. And when he believed in something, whether it’s in Batman, or in you, he never gave up on it. He’d fight til the end.

--

The day after tomorrow. The bomb was going to blow, according to John. The military still weren’t letting people go across the bridge. They were even threatening to blow that up themselves to stop people. Most of the population didn’t know, they were much too busy fighting each other to realize that Bane wasn’t actually going to give a detonator to an ordinary citizen. Or that an ordinary citizen would even want this city to blow up. He had to have the detonator all this time. And with Batman missing again, and the cops still trapped, and only very few people actually working on the streets... even your hope was beginning to wane. And John’s.

You moved into the shelter with the boys, taking care of them, tucking them in, acting like the mother that they never had. Because if all went wrong, this would be their last few days and they deserved to feel that love. You put the blankets over them, made sure that they had their bears which they were given as emotional support, and gave them each a peck on the forehead. Even the older boys, so quick to shun the bears since they were childish, needed something to hold onto.

The day before the bomb went off was chaotic. All of your rations were packed away to take off in the morning, just in case things didn’t work out. John was convinced that the military would see reason and let a bus full of children across. And you, importantly. He wasn’t going to be able to go on if anything happened to you, he admitted.

“You just do your job, Detective Blake,” You said, laying in bed with him, looking into his big, dark brown eyes. “And keep up hope that everything is going to turn out alright. It’s like that saying you know I love so much. Everything will be okay in the end, and if it’s not okay, then it’s not the end. We have to remain optimistic about this. Not just for us, but for the kids.”

--

The bomb was set to go off in less than an hour. All of the kids, the father, a few other works, John and yourself had piled onto the schoolbus and tried to get out to the bridge. The military were guarding it cautiously. Too cautiously. Guns were pointed not only at you, who had gotten out to support John, and your husband. Father Reilly was giving up hope. But you weren’t. The second that John had gotten the door unlocked, you slipped through it, standing in front of him.

“Please,” You pleaded, stepping forward tentatively. Your eyes were struggling to meet the soldier’s, and not just focus on his gun. “I’m asking you not as a citizen of Gotham, but as a mother. As a human being. These children are innocent in all of this. If they don’t leave, they’re going to get killed anyway. Have you seen the riots, and the looting, and all of the crime? Is that an environment you want your kids raised in?”

“You need to get back,” The soldier said, though his voice was shakier than before.

“Please, do not shoot,” John yelled, his accent cutting through the air. He walked up alongside you, badge in hand, those hands up towards the sky. He stepped in alongside you, then a step ahead, protecting you. Always acting like your human shield. Warning shots came towards you, to the ground by your feet.

“Get back,” John whispered to you. And you didn’t fight him on that, you went right back behind the chain-link door with the others, but watched with worried eyes. Your fingers slipped through the holes, gripping onto the metal. However much John worried about you getting hurt, you worried right back. Tenfold. The city would be lost without him. You would be lost without him, so would the kids.

“Detective, please, stop!” The young looking officer barked out. He looked as scared as you felt. But John was stubborn, and wasn’t going to stop for anything. He took two steps forward. More bullets shot near his feet, sending little shocks of light. That made him pause, but not stop. Another step. “STOP WALKING.” He looked towards another soldier that was with him and said the words that made your heart stop. “BLOW IT.”

The two men disappeared behind the shelters made of sandbags. “John-” You cried out, hoping to God that he would turn around and walk back to you before the explosives would go off.

“DO IT.” The soldier ordered.

Your stubborn husband. He made another step before the explosives detonated. Smoke filled your vision, but you saw that he was thrown backwards. You went through the door again, coughing through the dark and acrid smoke, trying to find him. A whole section of the bridge fell from existence, causing a rumble that made you fall. A hand caught your own, and you could feel from familiarity that it was John’s.

“YOU SONS OF BITCHES,” John said, getting onto his feet and pulling you up alongside with him. He had his arms around you, still shielding you from the military. You avoided looking at them now, because John was speaking what you were thinking. “YOU KILLED US.”

It was hard to maintain that hope in the face of this much adversity, but you had to try. He was moving back towards the door, back towards the kids. You stopped him outside of the bus, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and brought him in for what might be your last hug. “You’ve done everything that you can, my love,” You said, looking into his dark eyes. “I have faith in the Batman. And in Gordon. They’re figuring this out, and if they don’t then - then you cannot blame yourself. You risked your life time and time again. Gotham can not ask any more from you.”

John nodded, but you could still see the frustration on his face. But then another expression took over it. One of hope. And wonder. He pointed behind you, towards the skies, towards the water. You turned around to see that there was some black thing flying through the air, holding what looked to be-

- the bomb.

It was being flown over the waters, towards the sea, away from Gotham. Batman had come through. There was no mistaking who else it could be in that jetblack air craft. Nobody else had the technology for that. Your hands went to your heart, holding it in because it was beating so quickly, it felt like it might pop out. John put his arms around you from behind. All of the kids rushed to one side of the bus to look out of the windows. There were excited voices coming from everywhere.

Then the bomb went off. You could see the explosion from where you were. It caused a stiff wind to blow towards you. The bridge rippled as the water beneath it did as well. It was a wonder that the windows of the bus didn’t break. But it was gone, and it was over. And though you felt relieved, you looked up at John with sorrow. He had believed in the Batman, more than he believed in his own police force. But at least the threat against your family, for now, was over and done with.

--

When you first saw him wearing the mask and the suit, you were worried. Who wouldn’t be? He was taking over the moniker of Batman and all of the enemies that brought along with it. But at least he had promised that he would wear the mask, something he had sworn never to do in the first place. But he had you to think about, and the kids. He’d already had an enemy threaten you, with Bane and the entire city, and he realized this wasn’t just about playing heroics. It was about taking care of his own. His people. Gotham’s people.

“Are you going to be home to tuck the kids into bed?” You asked, before John set off to go to the underground bunker. Even you didn’t know the exact location. The less you knew, the better.

“I’ll try to be,” He said, cupping your chin and pressed a sweet and loving, though quick, kiss upon your lips. “Don’t wait up for me though.”

“Easier said than done,” You said. He chuckled, knowing that was the truth, gave you a long look like he was memorizing your face, then disappeared out into the evening twilight, to get ready to prowl the night in his newly assigned role as The Batman.

#John Blake #John Blake x reader #John Blake oneshot #DC #DC oneshot #request #oneshot #x reader #johnb

[midnightrooftops]

Batfamily: My Hero Academia AU

Done before? Probably. I’ve become obsessed with bnha (better late than never) so here’s my headcanons for a bafamily in the bnha verse. This was with the help of a friend.

Bruce Wayne | Batman Quirk: Shadow (not widely known) Bruce’s quirk is actually highly debated by the public. His name suggests he has a “bat” quirk and he leans into that as the playboy billionaire he is. But really, his quirk is a shadow quirk that allows him to hide and travel in shadows. 

He’s a unique hero in that even his personal identity is a mask. “Bruce Wayne” is a public face for Pro Heroes. Rated #2, he uses his wealth and prestige to do a lot of work outside hero work. Anyone that knows him knows that he isn’t the playboy he plays up for the press. People have a hard time remembering that his persona is a fearsome hero and many of his arrests go without proper credit. If he does make a public debut as “Batman”, it’s a campy, played up version that supports his personal identity. 

The way his false “Bruce Wayne/Batman” identity encourages heroing is a direct contradiction to the way he really is. He tries to minimize the message but after his parents were murdered by a villain, he attempted to the vigilante style. However, he found it wasn’t plausible with the way the world was evolving. He then turned to using his fame and wealth to make sure that any hero was better equipped. He has the leading company of support gear and will often gift gear to anyone in need of it, hero or not. 

Dick Grayson | Nightwing Quirk: Low impact Dick’s quirk makes him light on his feet, able to maneuver quickly over any terrain. It took years, but he’s been able to apply his quirk to any part of his body, not just his feet. The bounce his quirk gives him makes him hyper-reactive and able to spring into action faster than most anyone else.

Dick grew up in a circus, exploiting quirks for amazing physical feats but when his parents were killed, there wasn’t any place Dick could go. Taken in by the pro hero Batman, Dick learned from the best of the best at a young age and often accompanied his teacher on cases as young as twelve years old. This put him on the top of the charts when he got into hero school and he quickly rose to the “Top Three” of the school. By the time of graduation, he, Wally West and Donna Troy, had broken pro records. 

He has since made his own agency and brought on many sidekicks the media calls “titans”.

Barbara Gordon | Oracle Quirk: Information Gathering By look or touch, she can gather a huge amount of information about someone and their activities. She also has a perfect memory.

The daughter of the chief of police, Barbara sees the difference between “heroes” and police and hates it. She’s dedicated to bridging the gap between public law enforcement and the private job of “hero”. Somewhere along the way, she’s starting to understand the difference. She has a pro license but she stays out of the spotlight these days. She prefers to bring in the bad guy and doesn’t care who gets “credit” for it. 

Jason Todd | Red Hood Quirk: Phoenix (Unknown to almost everyone) Every time he’s burned, that portion of his body gets temporary stronger. Total regeneration results in partial mental instability.

Jason was thought to have a useless quirk - he was immune to fire. That didn’t stop him, however, from using it to the best of his abilities. Jason grabbed the attention of pro Hero Batman by stealing the tires off his car. As Dick had just graduated hero school, Bruce was looking for another young sidekick to mentor and teach. Jason was brash, hot-headed and, to put simply, not liked. The press tore the poor kid apart for his poor behavior, the hero community wouldn’t defend him and, while he DID get into the top hero high school, he was ostracized from the beginning because of his origins. 

Tragedy struck when, during an internship, Jason ran off to protect his mother and he was captured. A vote was submitted to the public, asking them to vote for his fate. While there was massive amounts of cheating and it was rigged from the start, it was still a terrible shock when the vote decided his death. Batman was not able to save the boy. 

However, the explosion made to kill him actually activated his quirk. While he burned, his body regenerated, stronger and he returned as the villain, Red Hood. Batman, after discovering his adopted son was still alive, kept his identity a secret and they have a public back-and-forth about heroes-verses-villains. Many don’t see Red Hood as a pure villain, but instead an anti-hero, taking out the worst of the worst. Have Batman or Nightwing teamed up before? Not publicly, but that’s neither here nor there.

Tim Drake | Robin/Red Robin Quirk: Memory Replay Touch activates memory of an object or person. The duration or clarity is dependent for how long that person/thing was touched and how connected it was to the events around it.

Tim never set out to be a hero. With the neglect of his parents, he had a lot of downtime and he saw the downward spiral of Batman/Bruce Wayne before anyone else did. Yes, a death of a sidekick was bad but Tim was predicting this years beforehand, seeing beyond Bruce’s public persona. His natural knack for information gathering had him saving the pro hero from doing something horrific. In exchange for his heroic deed, Bruce offered to train him. Always eager to learn more, Tim accepted and was eventually accepted into a hero academy.

This new path on the road to becoming a hero would eventually lead to the death of his parents and being adopted by Bruce. But for the time being, he’s trying to find his place in the “hero” world as a relative outsider. 

Cassandra Cain | Black Bat Quirk: ???

The daughter of villains, breed to be the best assassin in the world, Cassandra was raised in isolation, taught by killers and knew little of the world until coming to Gotham. After her first kill, she fled her teachers and sought something better.

She was one of the most important people involved in the earthquake of Gotham, saving two-thirds of the survivors by herself. The press never knew she existed so she went unrecognized. Bruce adopted her secretly and keeps her hero activity away from the press. He worked with the police to clear her past crimes. Now, she’s focused on understanding the world around her and making the best of her quirk. 

Stephanie Brown | Spoiler Quirk: Deconstruction Anything she touches can be deconstructed, depending on the size of the objects and how long she holds it.

Nothing disgusts Stephanie more than villains. Her father has been in and out of prison her entire life and the news knows him by name. She hates it. It’s made her life a living hell. She hates it more that she shares his same quirk. 

She knew she would never be a hero. Despite her submissions, no hero school would take her and she was forced to a regular public high school with the same bullies as before. But she’s made it a habit to spoil her father’s plans. After being let down by heroes in her past, she takes it upon herself to make sure none of her father’s plans work. Call her a vigilante. This, of course, spiraled to ruining his villain-friend’s plans and, well, being in the wrong place at the wrong time may be habit for her now.

She met Tim and Cass while doing her very illegal night activities and, despite their warnings, they haven’t turned her in yet. She’s learned how to be a better “hero” from them and they, in turn, seem to appreciate her tips about the underground. 

Damian Wayne | Robin II Quirk: Regeneration He can regenerate from wounds. Total amputation may take time to regenerate but will grow back slightly stronger. 

Unknown to the press, Damian is the son of Bruce Wayne and the villain Talia al Ghul. While his parent’s relationship is complicated, he has been nothing but tenacious when it comes to fighting evil, even at the age of twelve. Much of the public regards Damian as the next “Jason Todd” but Damian is adamant about proving himself. Even with his “older brother” at hero school, Damian isn’t interested in waiting for regulations to let him do what he was trained from birth to do. He’s been known to cause problems for local police and heroes alike more than once. 

#bnha #bnha au #batfamily au #batfamily #just some shit #tim drake #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain

[peppersonironi]

Batfam Avengers Crossover Chapter Two: Meeting

Chapter Two, folks! Finally some batfam appearances.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences 

Category: Gen 

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

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

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

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

Summary: Avengers enter the cave, and meet the batfam!

Notes: In sorry if this chapter is a bit boring, I tried to keep it light. (I know the techie stuff that I glossed over bored even me) But now that I’m done with the first introductory chapters, I can move to some - hopefully - more fun scenarios!

“Woah.” Peter looked around at the giant cavern that the Green Lantern guy had flown them into. His ring had formed some kind of platform to carry them, and Peter was still theorizing how it worked.

They had flown toward the city - named Gotham apparently - following the mysterious “Batman”. Then reached a waterfall, which had a huge mechanical door system that parted the water. They had gone through a long pathway lit up on the edges before emerging in the cave.

It was huge, with multiple platforms built into the rock. Peter first found himself on one that was clearly meant for vehicles, as there were multiple motorcycles parked beside where Batman’s car stopped. There were other levels that held gym equipment, a sparring ring, weapons stations, and some sort of lab. There was weird memorabilia too. Peter spotted a giant penny, dinosaur, and a Joker playing card. A few more levels had cases for suits, not unlike that which Mr. Stark had. Though some of the suits were strange. One was clearly bloody and ripped. One of the most prominent platforms held a huge computer with a dominating black chair.

However, Peter could have sworn it was playing … The Dinosaur Game? That was weird.

Batman got out of his car the way he had before and made his way over toward the Avengers, where they had been set down by Green Lantern. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a very loud voice called out in the cave, startling everyone except the Batman.

“Bruce! Where the F*** is my AK-47?!”

The Hulk, who had since transformed back into Bruce Banner, frowned in confusion.

No one got the chance to question it, however, because a young man in a skin tight black bodysuit swung from another level, and was now hanging upside down from a support beam near Batman. He had a blue bird on his chest, Peter thought it looked a bit like an eagle. He also had on a black domino mask.

“Hey B!” He said cheerily. “ I should probably warn you that Hood is on a rampage ‘cause he can’t find his gun. And also Robin is threatening everyone as per usual. ” The Dark Knight sighed. “What about Red Robin, Spoiler, and Oracle? ”

The new comer grinned. “Dinosaur Game Championship. Oracle is in the lead.”

There was a sudden shout of disapproval from where the apparent game seemed to be held.

“And Signal?”

“Taking weapons stock while muttering about how insane we all are.” He shook his head. “He seems to forget he’s one of us, and therefore crazy by association.”

The Dark Knight sighed once more, this time with his fingers on the bridge of his nose. “Thank you Nightwing. Would you tell Red Hood that his AK-47 is in the Med Bay where he left it when he was doing his stitches? And tell everyone to meet in the conference room in uniform. Code 27G.”

Nightwings eyes - well, lenses - widened. He glanced at the Avengers. “Huh. Sure can do B.”

He swung up from his perch, flipped onto the platform above him - Peter was pretty impressed at how casually he did so - and ran off, seemingly melting into the shadows.

An awkward silence followed, with the Avengers all huddling protectively together. Peter really wanted to explore - that T-Rex looked awesome - but he saw the worried look on Mr. Stark’s face. This was an unfamiliar situation. They must be cautious.

A moment later Peter had had enough of caution. “Excuse me sir, is that a dinosaur?”

The Dark Knight turned toward Peter and glared. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Mr. Stark tense up. But a split second later the glare softened. “Yes. Animatronic. From one of my early … endeavors.”

Peter grinned under his mask. “Cool!”

Batman lifted his head, and began walking on a path up. “Come, I’ll show you where we can talk.”

*****

They entered a meeting room that was off to the side of the cave. There was already a group present. They were clumped loosely in a corner, boredom and intrigue apparent on their faces. They all stood to attention when Batman walked into the room, all except for Nightwing from earlier. He was currently in a handstand in the center of the conference table, shifting from one hand to the other. He collapsed onto the table at the sight of the arrivals, before quickly jumping to his feet and saluting with an embarrassed grin on his face. Batman rolled his eyes and they all went back to what they were doing, except Nightwing who slumped into a chair.

The group of teeneagers were dressed in more skin-tight suits. Peter was slightly taken aback by how young they were. The smallest seemed to be around ten - perhaps he was this “Robin” mentioned earlier - and the oldest in his early twenties. Most seemed to be about his own age though, in their mid teens. It felt weird to not be the only kid.

The closest was a young man sitting in one of the chairs with his feet on the table. He seemed to be taller than Nightwing, with a broader chest. He wore gray cargo pants, some sort of utility belt, an armored shirt with a red bat on it, a leather jacket, and a red helmet that looked a lot like Tony’s. Peter could already imagine the copyright complaints from their resident billionaire. The man also had gun holsters on each leg, and was stroking a - newly returned - AK-47 in his arms.

The first teenager had black bottoms and red top with a black and gold “X” over his chest, joined by some symbol that looked vaguely like an “R”. He also had a black cape and smooth cowl. He was standing in the corner, leaning against a wall with a tablet and mug of coffee in hand.

A teenage girl stood beside the teen, dressed in a mostly purple with hints-of-black bodysuit and a purple hooded cape. She wore a full black mask over her face, with only white lenses. It was a bit freaky, but she was mostly non-threatening, due to her easygoing posture and laugh, which was directed at the teen with the cowl.

The kid was dressed in black leggings, green boots and gloves, a red and yellow tunic with an “R” on it, black and yellow hooded cape, and green domino mask. Though the strangest thing about him was the huge Katana he was sharpening while sitting at the table. He also had an unimpressed glare on his face. Peter decided that he and Helmet-Guy were the scariest in the room. Aside from Batman.

Another teenaged boy had a tired look on what Peter could see of his face, as he looked slightly disapprovingly at his companions. He stood in more heavily plated bright yellow and black armor with a bat symbol on it. He had a utility belt, and a helmet which looked to be shaped like a bat.

What was with these people and bats?

Peter didn’t get to ask, as at that moment a new person joined the group. Flying down a ramp was a red headed young woman in a wheelchair. She expertly slowed to a stop in front of Batman, who had not yet entered the room. Peter noticed that she had hastily applied a black domino mask, leaving a pair of glasses in her lap, along with a laptop.

“Sorry I’m late B, I forgot where I had put my extra mask. These things keep disappearing!” She said the last part while glaring at the kids.

“It’s fine, Oracle. Now that we’re all here-” He paused, then looked around at the group. “Where’s Black Bat?”

“Handling a Robbery downtown. She’s finishing up. ETA 20 minutes.”

Batman nodded. “Very well, we’ll continue without her, she won’t mind.”

He entered the room, ushering everyone else to do so as well. With a quick glare, all the kids sat down. The Avengers joined them, as there were plenty of seats. The only one who did not sit was Batman.

He spoke once everyone was ready, mainly directing his words to the kids. Peter briefly wondered what it would be like to actually be respected like that, but shook off the thought. Batman quickly and efficiently summarizes the events, including several readings of the energy sources, which only the red and black teen seemed to understand as he nodded along, looking fascinated. Once he was done, Batman turned to the Avengers. “Names. No need to share personal identities if you are uncomfortable. Though since we are from different earths, I doubt it would matter.”

“Everyone already knows our identities on our earth,” Mr. Stark said, receiving several weird looks from the teens. “So it’s not a problem for us.” He removed his face plate. “Tony Stark, I’m Iron man in the suit, which I built myself.” He gestures to Steve Rogers next.

“Captain America, Steve Rogers. Our resident super soldier and senior citizen.” Steve frowned at the last comment.

“Bruce Banner,” Mr. Stark said next, “Alter ego is the Hulk. Anger Issues and Gamma radiation galore.”

Red Robin perked up. “Cool! How did-” He was cut off by a glare from Batman.

“This is Thor Odinson, named… well, Thor. God of lightning, has a hammer. You can call him Sparky Sparky Boom Man.” A pause. “Yeah, maybe just stick with Thor.”

“Clint Barton, codename Hawkeye. Our long distance weapons specialist.” Mr. Stark gestured to Clint’s bow for good measure. The kids giggled and whispered something to each other that sounded like ‘Green Arrow knockoff ’, though Peter didn’t get it.

“Black Widow, Natasha Romanov. Intelligence expert, and ex-assassin.” This got a bunch of whispers from the kids.

Peter was the last to be introduced. He pulled off his mask while Mr. Stark said “The kid’s Peter Parker, our rookie, also known as Siderman ”

“You sure it’s Spiderman,” Helmet-Guy said.

Peter glared. “Yes.”

“Red Hood,” Batman said, frowning. “No antagonizing the interdimensional visitors.”

Red Hood just shrugged and went back to stroking his gun.

The Avengers just sat around awkwardly. The Woman jabbed her elbow into Superman’s ribs, which got him talking.

“Oh… It’s only fair we introduce ourselves, since it isn’t really official earlier.” This time it was Superman who spoke. “I’m Superman, known as Kal-El, a kryptonian. Human name is Clark Kent.”

Huh, he didn’t look like an alien.

“Here we have Wonder Woman, an amazon, demigoddess, and princess. Secret Identity is Diana Prince.” He gestured to the woman, who, despite just being called a princess, looked very threatening indeed.

“Martian Manhunter, a martian known as J’onn J'onzz. Civilian name is John Jones. Yes, quite original.” The Martian nodded in greeting, and Peter was seriously freaking out. A real martian!? Cool!

“Flash, a speedster also known as Barry Allen.” The man pulled back his cowl as Superman spoke.

“S’up?” He asked with a smile.

“And Hal Jordan, one of the Green Lanterns.”

“The best Green Lantern.”

Batman grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “keep telling yourself that.”

Superman turned to Batman, but before he could, the Dark Knight spoke. “I can do it myself Clark.” He lifted his hand and removed his cowl to reveal a handsome man in his early to mid thirties with black hair and blue eyes. “Batman, also known as Bruce Wayne.”

He turned toward the kids. “These are my kids, as well as partners.”

He started with Nightwing. “Nightwing, aka Richard Grayson. My eldest.” Richard grinned and removed his domino mask. He too had blue eyes.

“Call me Dick,” he said.

“Red Hood, aka Jason Todd, my second eldest.” Jason pressed some button or something on his helmet and took it off to reveal… a domino mask. After a quick glare from Bruce, he sighed and took it off. Revealing black hair and blue eyes.

“Red Robin,” there was a soft ‘yum’ that came from the corner, though Peter couldn’t tell who said it. “Aka Tim Drake.” Tim pulled his cowl back and grinned. He had black hair and blue eyes.

“Over there is Signal, aka Duke Thomas, my ward.” The teen took off his helmet, revealing yet another black-haired kid. Though Duke was clearly african american, and had brown eyes.

“Next is Robin aka Damian Wayne, my youngest.” Damian sneered as if he were above everyone around him.

“Spoiler, aka Stephanie Brown, is a family friend.” Stephanie waved.

“I’m also his ex,” Stephanie said, jutting her thumb at Tim.

Tim groaned. “When will you stop introducing yourself like that?”

“When it stops getting under your skin.”

Tim sank back in his chair and flung an arm over his eyes.

Batman sighed once more. “Oracle, aka Barbara Gordan. Also a family friend, and our tech specialist.” Baraba nodded in recognition. “Now that introductions are out of the way, we must discuss how you got here, and how you’ll get back.”

Everyone nodded and began the discussion. Mr. Stark started off the explanation, going over Anagnorisis, the compound, the gun that they got hit with, and how they ended up in the crater.

The other adults - mainly Batman - popped in, talking about the calculations for such an interdimensional jump. Peter listened intently, as he found it utterly fascinating, but didn’t add anything. Then Tim spoke, listing off a series of numbers and variables, that were received with nods. Peter was a bit jealous that he spoke so easily. So Peter decided to add something later on, a small comment about energy sources. When he did, the conversation stopped. Peter thought he was dead meat for interrupting, but then Bruce - Wayne, not Banner - spoke.

“The kid’s smart.”

Mr. Stark smiled proudly.

A moment later the conversation continued. They went on for almost a half hour, and even Peter was getting a bit bored. He could tell the other kids were too. The girls seemed to have gotten back to their Dinosaur Game championship, and there were small cheers and groans coming from their corner every so often. Jason and Damian had yet to set aside their weapons, though they had begun a small conversation too quiet for Peter to hear. The only people who seemed to be paying attention were Dick and Tim, though Dick clearly didn’t understand half the words that were being tossed around.

The adults seemed to be disinterested as well, namely Barry and Hal, who were in the middle of a thumb war. When they inevitably got too loud, Batman sent a glare their way. The other members of the Justice League seemed to only be listening out of courtesy. As were Thor and Clint. Natasha seemed to be focussed more on the kids. She had a small frown on her face, as if something about them bothered her.

Everyone paid attention when Batman spoke next, however. “It should take at least a week to charge up the energy sources and prepare a device to send you home.”

Peter perked up. “That’s not that long. Have you dealt with interdimensional travel in the past?”

Several of the kids groaned. “Don’t remind me,” Stephanie said.

“Worst twenty-six hours of my life!” Dick agreed.

Then Jason spoke, and Peter was speechless.

“It was almost as bad as that time I died. Now that wasn’t a fun evening.”

“You died?” Natasha said, clearly confused and worried.

“I’m better now,” he said as if referring to a common cold. Jason had a small smirk on his face as he shrugged.

“Back to the discussion at hand,” Batman said, glaring at Jason. “Yes, Peter, we have dealt with the multiverse before. It should be fairly simple to locate your dimension and send you back. The only problem is powering the device. It requires Superman flying out to the sun and placing the energy core inside to fuel it. It needs to remain there for over a week.”

“You can fly to the sun?” Mr. Stark asked. “How do you survive?”

Clark shrugged. “I have impenetrable skin, and a very high melting point.”

No one questioned this, though Peter was quite intrigued.

“Where will they stay?” Dick asked, which caused a sudden silence.

“Does the Watchtower have enough rooms available?” Barry asked.

“What’s the Watchtower?” Peter asked.

“Our space station,” Diana answered, much to Peter’s delight, “and no, we have those visiting Green Lanterns, remember? Hal has been grousing about it all this week.”

“I was not!” Hal said, then sighed. “Okay, maybe I was, but that’s beside the point. What about your farmhouse, Clark?”

Clark shook his head. “Under renovation. Speaking of which I need to head over there after this. Lois will have a cow if I’m late.”

There was silence after that, as everyone was thinking. Then Stephanie got a - slightly evil, Peter thought - smile on her face. “What about the Manor? God knows we have enough space.”

“You don’t even live here!” Tim said.

Bruce glared at Stephanie for a bit then sighed. “The Manor would work. Though why anyone would want to stay with you rabble rousers is beyond my understanding.”

Jason snorted. “Says the guy who adopted us all willingingly.”

Batman grumbled, but was saved from replying as a sudden noise came from the door.

The meeting room had a wide glass window next to the exit - which was open - so Peter had a good view of the sleek black motorcycle that entered the cave, upon which rode a figure dressed all in black. The motorcycle was parked and yet another costumed teen - this time a girl - strolled toward the conference room.

She was dressed in head to toe black, in the form of a skin tight suit. She also had a yellow utility belt, and outline of a bat on her chest. She wore a black cape and cowl which had pointed ears and covered her whole face. There seemed to be some form of stitching across her mouth, which was quite creepy.

She walked forward and entered the room quickly. Bruce smiled upon seeing her.

“Ah, Black Bat. How was the robbery?”

She motioned with her hands in a way that Peter didn’t understand. It seemed vaguely like that sign language which he’d seen Clint use.

Whatever it was, Batman seemed to understand. “Very good. These are our visitors. Code 27G. They’ll be staying at the manor till we can send them back.”

Black Bat reached up and took off her cowl revealing an asian girl around eighteen year old with a black bob. “Good,” she said. “Names?”

“We’re allowing them. Over there we have Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker, and Bruce Banner.”

“Bruce?” She asked with a smirk.

Batman sighed. “Yes.” He turned to the group. “This is my Daughter Cassandra Cain. Alias is Black Bat.”

Everyone muttered small hellos, except Jason who said something with the word “favorite” in it. Cassandra didn’t seem bothered by the lack of enthusiasm. She just smiled and walked over to Damian.

“Seat. Mine.” She spoke simply.

Peter thought the kid would just sneer, but instead he quickly moved over. He could have sworn the kid looked scared. Perhaps the kid was all bark and no bite.

“Well, if that’s all, I really should be going,” Clark Kent said as he rose from the table. “Good luck with staying at the manor. See ya kids.”

“Bye Uncle Supes,” The kids chorused

“I should be going as well,” Barry said. I’m needed at the station.”

Soon the rest of the league left, and the Avengers were left alone with the bats and birds.

#Avengers Meet The Batfam #dc/marvel crossover #batfam #avengers #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #barbara gordan #stephanie brown #Cassandra Cain #tony stark #steve rogers #clint barton #natasha romanoff #thor odinson #bruce banner #peter parker #batfamily shenanigans

[ladyanput]

Seeing Green Ch.1

Well, I would like to thank @ozmav for the awesome idea for the entire AU and @realrandomposts for inspiring me to finally write this story as well as editing it alongside @zebrabaker. Enjoy, my little darlings!

~~~

It was supposed to be a lovely trip. A fun trip to America, to be shown around a multimillion dollar company that branches in every corporation known to man. Marinette had stayed up countless nights, putting together plans, balancing a budget with Miss Bustier, everything! But there she stood, staring off in the direction of the long departed bus. She hugged herself tightly, as the cold winter air ruffled her clothing. 

They.. They had forgotten her. Left her behind, while they all went off to tour Wayne Enterprises. Without her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat before glancing down at the small purse at her hip and into Tikki's large, worried eyes. She forced a carefree smile, and winked at the kwami.

"Well, Tikki, I did say I wanted to see more of the city. What better way to see it than to walk? It's only a thirty minute walk, it won't be too bad." Marinette widened her grin as she began her trek to Wayne Tower, shoving down the hurt that gripped her chest. Everyone must have been too excited to notice her missing, that was all. She was sure they had realized their mistake, and was waiting for her to catch up. No doubt about it.

As she began walking, she felt those tears rise up again. She dashed them away before any of them could fall. She couldn't lie to herself. It just brought even more pain when the disappointment set in. And it always did.

…

Damian Wayne was not having the best of days. He had woken up late. He rarely woke up late, but being up until four in the morning did not help him with his sleep schedule. So he leaned back into his seat, watching the world go by as his driver took him towards work. He was required to be there, since a class from France was coming to see what they were all about. It felt like a waste of time to Damian, putting on a decently hospitable visage for a bunch of annoying teenagers that could barely speak English, and then dealing with any of the girls trying to flirt with him, because he had the powerful last name of 'Wayne'.

He wished he could change it to Kent some days, to have everyone leave him alone. 

But, alas, his life would never be so simple, now would it?

As soon as the driver pulled up to the company building, Damian bolted out of the car, only to be slammed into by a flurry of pink. He tensed ever so slightly, grabbing who he now saw was a girl, steadying herself before she could fall flat on her face.

He glanced down and gazed into the bluest eyes he had ever seen, and his mind froze. He stared at the girl, with her dark hair, pulling back into a tight ponytail, and a splash of cute freckles across the bridge of her nose..

Cute. Cute was the perfect word for the girl, especially when her lovely face went crimson and she began sputtering apologies in French. But then tried to struggle for English.

"I- I am so sorry, I was in such a rush to catch up with my class, I wasn't watching where I was going!" She stuttered out, her dainty hands pressed firmly against his chest. 

"It's alright, I wasn't watching where I was going either." Damian found himself smiling down at the red faced girl, before removing his firm grip from her shoulders, and taking a step back. "I'm guessing, by the French, that you're a part of the French class that's going on the tour today?"

"Er... Yes, my class left without me, I guess they were so excited for the tour, they left early." The girl smiled at him, and Damian felt like the air had left his lungs. She… She was as beautiful as an angel. He watched as the girl fidget under his gaze, her blush only seeming to get worse. "Do you work here? As an intern or something?"

"Um.. Yes, I work as an intern here. My older brother is going to be leading the tour today. We should probably get inside, before you get left behind by your class." Damian held out his arm to the French girl, who gladly took it, and they strolled inside. "I'm Damian, by the way, it's nice to meet you."

"Marinette. The feeling is mutual."

…

The last thing Marinette was expecting to see was her class standing in the lobby. But there they were, faces filled with annoyed expressions, as Miss Bustier was clearly arguing with the receptionist and the woman standing beside her.

"Please, the students came all this way to enjoy the tour. It's not nice to just keep them standing around, they're going to get tired." Miss Bustier begged with the receptionist, while the younger woman beside her crossed her arms.

"Miss Bustier, with all due respect, you are an hour early. You and your class arrived here early, without calling in advance, and Mr. Grayson is not yet here to give you the said tour, because, as I just stated, our tour does not start for another HOUR." Evangeline Bourbon hissed through clenched teeth, her violet eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Speaking of your class, where is Marinette?"

It was then Bustier blinked in surprise, before glancing back at her gathered class. Immediately, Lila's eyes welled up with tears, and she began sobbing loudly into her hands.

"This is all my fault! Miss Bustier was so kind to try and get us through this tour, because my precious Damidear invited me on a date tonight.." She cried out, before bursting into more dramatic sobs, causing Evangeline and the receptionist to exchange glances and roll their eyes. Ah, the pains of being a teacher's assistant. "A- and now Marinette is trying to slow us all down, because she's jealous of me being in a relationship!"

"Actually, I'm right here." The entire class turned to see Marinette walking up, arm in arm with a tall boy around their age, dressed in a trim charcoal suit, his black hair smoothed back, and his green eyes so sharp, they could pierce your very soul. "I'm so sorry I'm late, no one told me we were leaving early."

"Maybe because nobody wanted you here." Alya grumbled under her breath, before sharing a smirk with Lila.

"Well, since everyone is here, we can all wait for Mr. Grayson." Eva spoke up quickly, cutting off any reprimands Miss Bustier was about to send Marinette's way. She strode over to the duo standing at the entrance, drawing all eyes to her. She was a lovely woman, tall and curvy, with long shiny brown hair and impossibly violet eyes. Eyes full of kindness,but took no bullshit, something that became quickly apparent when she became Miss Bustier's teaching assistant last year. "Marinette, are you okay? Who's your friend?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Miss Bourbon. This is Damian, he offered to escort me to the group, if you guys had taken off without me." Marinette ignored the harsh glares being sent her way by her classmates, before smiling up at the TA, the only ally she seemed to have at school. "But thank you.. For not starting without me."

When Eva smiled, Marinette felt herself relax a bit more, before letting go of Damian's arm, not realizing how tightly she had been gripping it.

"Well, I suppose now I can get out of your hair. Thank you, Damian." Marinette felt her cheeks heat up as she finally stepped away. When he smiled at her, she felt a familiar fluttering in her heart that she hadn't felt in so long… And his eyes were so green, so much greener than Adrien's.

"Marinette, can you please stop eye fucking the guy, before you creep him out." Alya spoke up, her voice echoing through the lobby, causing all eyes to focus on Marinette. There were a few snickers and Mari felt her ears burn. "Wouldn't want to scare him off, like you did with Adrien!"

That caused the class to burst into laughter, while Marinette felt a stab at her heart, instantly taking a large step away from Damian. 

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.." She whispered out, as shame and embarrassment curled in her gut sharply. She watched as a furious expression crossed over his face, and he looked as if he was about to yell.

"Hey, so you must be the group I'm giving the tour to. My name's Dick Grayson, nice to meet you all." Marinette turned towards the voice, her guilt only eating away more as she quickly darted away from Damian. He hated her, thought she was a freak. Just when she thought she could make a friend, Alya had to open her mouth and ruin it all. She held back tears as she glanced up at their tour guide, a tall, handsome man that gave everyone a kind smile. 

"I'm sorry. And thanks again.." Marinette whispered as she glanced back at Damian, who seemed rooted in place, staring at her. "I swear I wasn't looking at you in that way. I'm really sorry."

And she scurried off to join her class as they began their tour, leaving a dumbstruck Damian staring after her.

…

"You should have seen how her classmates treated her! Father, why did you let such a horrible class to come here?!" Damian whirled on his father, as they stood in his impressively large office. Bruce sighed as he saw the blazing fire in his son's eyes, so like his own, then began pacing again. "I trailed behind them for a bit. You should hear what this one girl keeps saying! How she's dating me, how she's such best friends with my brothers, Dirk Greyjoy, Tim Todd, and Jackson Drake!" 

"... I wasn't aware that they behaved in such a way.. If I had known, I wouldn't have invited them." Bruce stood and glanced out his massive window, staring out at the city of Gotham, as he pondered. "Well it's too late now. We'll have to keep a close eye on them, they'll only be in Gotham until the Wayne gala, then they will be back to France, and none of our concern."

"Father… I feel protective of Miss Dupain-Cheng." Damian felt his cheeks heat up at his father's surprised look. But it was true, something about those large blue eyes drew him. "She.. Brings out my Robin instincts. She's being bullied, she's.. She's all alone."

Damian could feel his father staring, trying to read his thoughts, his expression, but he kept on a neutral mask and his body rigid. 

"... Damian.."

"I must be off now, Father. I have duties to attend to." Damian turned on his heel and promptly left before his father could say another word. He didn't stop until he was all the way down in the cafeteria, where the French class was currently having their lunch.

He spotted Marinette immediately. She was sitting all alone, far away from the class who seemed to be swarming around that brown haired girl who had been sprouting bullcrap about him earlier. As he walked by that table, he decided to listen in.

"I called my Damidear, he completely understood that I'd be a little late for our dinner tonight, but he's just so understanding and sweet, saying he got us reservations to the best restaurant in town! I'm thinking he might propose to me tonight!" The girl gushed, as others around her ooh'd and ahh'd at the fairytales she was sprouting. The entire thing just made him want to go over and shake the girl. Who the hell would get engaged at seventeen? Only idiots, that's who. He rolled his eyes and continued on his way.

"Hey, Marinette." Damian smiled at the girl when her head snapped up at the sound of his voice, and those eyes widening, making her look like a deer in headlights. As she began to get up, he reached out and took her hand, taking a seat across from her. "Please, don't run. Listen, what that girl said earlier, I know it isn't true. I... I was actually curious if you wanted to get dinner with me tonight."

He watched the wheels turn in Marinette's head, before that beautiful smile, though more shy, lit up her face. 

"I- I think I would, Dami. That would be really nice."

"Actually, she means no."

Damian watched as Marinette tensed at the voice, before glancing up at a furious looking blond boy standing next to their table, his green eyes blazing.

"She doesn't go around with pompous windbags."

…

Marinette couldn't believe that Adrien had just said that. She was on her feet in seconds, fury flickering through her, but she quickly stamped that flame out.

"Adrien, apologize! There was no reason for you to speak to Damian like that!" She whispered harshly when she grabbed his arm to pull him away. Her crush for the boy had died three years ago, when he kept insisting to never rock the boat with the whole Lila affair.

"You never apologized to Lila for trying to out her, why should I apologize to a guy who's clearly trying to get into your pants?" Adrien asked promptly. He turned back to Damian, puffing out his chest, making Marinette shake her head. "She's not going on a date with some sleazy guy she just met this morning, so I suggest you back off."

"'Agreste, stop it!" Marinette shoved him the hardest she could, sending the model stumbling back a few steps. He stared at her in shock, never before had she lashed out like that, never before had she looked at him in such disgust. Mari shook her head once more, then turned to Damian. "Listen.. I'd like to have dinner with you. But, please, don't feel the need to go all fancy, okay? I think you're a sweet guy, so you've already impressed me enough."

"A- alright then! I will pick you up at seven then?" Marinette felt herself blush more when Damian smiled, making him all that much more handsome. 

"Sounds like a date!" Her cheeks heated up more and she beamed. In her glee, she didn't catch sight of Lila glaring her way, scowling as she plotted a perfect way to ruin that date for Marinette.

#daminette #maribat #dc x mlb #Seeing Green

[vikingpoteto]

27, 9, pick any two bats

 To no one’s surprise I pick Jason and Tim + cleaning wounds + “Listen, I know it’s hard, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Red Robin looks around his kitchen and tries to list 5 things he can see. The pictures of his friends held by magnets on the fridge. The pile of dirty mugs in the sink. The unread papers spread on the table. The closed window. The trail of blood leading to the counter where he’s sitting. He makes a mental note to clean that up in the morning. Before that train of thought leads him somewhere else, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 4 things he can touch now. The leather of his cowl that he slowly peels away. The cold surface of the counter. The hard wall behind his back. The needle between his fingers. Another deep breath. 3 things he can hear. The clock ticking against the loud silence. Traffic and distant sirens. His mildly ragged breath. He opens his eyes, hoping he doesn’t have any cracked ribs. Another deep breath. He can smell antiseptic and also something coppery. He licks his lips. The one thing he can taste is the bitter pang from the antibiotics he took. 

Tim Drake glares at the needle. This isn’t the first time he had to stitch himself up. This isn’t the first time he had to take care of his own wounds. 

However, this is the first time he’s the one and only responsible for it. 

In another life, he would do a patch job, emergency stuff only, and then get to Alfred as soon as he could for a double check. In a time that felt like a dream now, he would have the latest health tech available and Cissie hovering over his bed while Cassie fussed about how he irresponsibly hurt himself, Bart made a joke out of everything and Conner, of all people, would be the one getting Tim proper care. Less than a month ago, the most deadly organization of the world was making sure Tim was getting the best care available. While his trembling fingers put the thread in the needle, he thinks of the almost healed scar from a damn splenectomy. He doesn’t know what Ra’s people had done to him, but he’s been recovering unnaturally fast, especially considering his immunity. 

Tim bites his tongue and looks down at his battered outfit. He could go to Leslie’s clinic. But it’d be stupid to go all the way there for a couple of bruises and a wound that would probably take less than five stitches. Tim could go to the cave, but… No. He puts the needle down and starts pulling his shirt out. He can’t completely muffle a pained groan and he hates the way it echoes in his empty kitchen. It’s been less than a week since he left Dick, Alfred and Damian. He’s an emancipated adult by all means. Bruce trained him to be independent. He can do this. 

Except… as soon as he reaches for the antiseptic, he hears a noise coming from the living room. Tim freezes. You’ve got to be kidding me. Of all the nights to have a robber breaking into his apartment, tonight? Did it have to be tonight? 

Painstakingly, he jumps to the floor and reaches for his staff. He has half a mind to get his cowl, but he thinks Tim Drake defending himself with what could’ve been a broomstick is easier to explain than Red Robin just hanging out at his place. If he’s lucky - and, after tonight, he feels like the universe owes him - he’ll knock out the robber before they see him. 

The most ridiculous thing about all this is that he feels like crying. He doesn’t know why. He barely remembers the last time he cried. Probably right before he realized Bruce could be alive. As much as he’s in pain now, this is no reason to cry like a baby. Especially not in front of a robber. 

Tim silently hides by the side of the fridge and listens. The person in his living room is good. He can barely hear their steps. He can tell there is only one of them, however, and, judging by the way the sound become louder, they’re coming towards the kitchen. Partly to focus on his hearing, partly to ignore the way his eyes are glazing over, he closes his eyes, listens and waits. He waits. He waits a little more.

Ignoring the way his muscles ache in protest, he swirls around and aims for the gut, hoping to knock the air out of the robber. Gloved hands grab his staff and the invader takes a step back before recovering his balance.

“Woah,” he says in a familiar voice, “easy there.”

Tim raises his gaze to face him. Red Hood lets go of the staff in order to remove the helmet, revealing Jason Todd’s frown. Tim feels his shoulders slumping.

“What the fuck, Jason?” Tim hisses. He feels his voice will break if he tries to speak up. 

“I should be the one asking that.” Jason puts his helmet aside. He takes one second glancing around until he finds Tim’s medical supplies. “Is this sanitary? Shouldn’t you be doing first aid in your high tech basement?”

He should. It would’ve been more practical than getting the whole first aid kit and bringing it up here. However, using his medical bay for the first time… It would make it all too real. Too definitive. Tim can’t tell Jason that.

“Medical bay isn’t finished. Kitchen or bathroom were my best options,” he lies.

“Hm,” Jason says as though he doesn’t believe him.

Tim could lie to Batman if he needed to, but, for some reason, Jason seems to always know the truth.

Without another word, Jason takes off his gloves and leather jacket. He drops them aside and walks to the sink. Tim doesn’t ask Jason how he knows where Tim lives - he won’t insult Jason’s detective abilities like that - but he does frown at the older boy as he strides through Tim’s kitchen like he owns the place. 

In fact, Tim doesn’t want to ask anything. He wants to scream at Jason to go away. He wants to lie down on the cold floor and not move for days. It’s comical in a twisted way that Tim had been just thinking longinly about the time in which he wasn’t alone, and, now that he has company, he wants nothing but to go back in time and hide inside the cupboard until Jason goes away. 

“What are you doing?” Tim croaks. 

“Washing my hands,” Jason says simply. He turns to Tim and waves at him to come closer.

It’s a testament to how miserable Tim feels that he does it without questioning. Jason arches an eyebrow at him and points at the counter where Tim had been sitting not long ago. Tim doesn’t move, even as Jason wipes his hands dry with paper towels and reaches for the hand sanitizer in Tim’s medical kit. 

“Jason,” Tim insists. “What are you doing?”

Jason sighs. “One of my guys told me this new vigilante, this Red Robin guy, took an ugly beating near the harbor while he took down one of Sionis’ turfs.”

“It wasn’t an ugly beating,” Tim mumbles.

“Wasn’t it?” Jason asks, his voice dripping sarcasm. “Was it easy to fight fifteen guys at the same time, Superman? Did it feel wise to bring a freaking staff to a knife fight?”

“I won!” Tim says. 

“Yeah, and which victorious mighty hero is bloody and purple all over?” Jason barks. “Sit your ass down, Replacement!”

Tim flinches and… freaking hell, his eyes are stinging again, which is the most absurd thing ever. 

Jason sighs one more time, but this time he sounds… Well, annoyed isn’t quite the right word. He does sound somewhat irritated, but there is something else in his tone. Discomfort? Embarrassment?

“That’s not… Ugh, I’m sorry, alright?”

Except that’s actually worse. 

Moments ago, Tim wanted nothing but to be seen. It was pathetic. He wasn’t even that hurt and tonight hadn’t been special. It was just the first time he went out for patrol since he moved into his new apartment. He didn’t stop Poison Ivy, didn’t get into a scuffle with Harvey Dent. He just put away a bunch of low level henchmen even if he miscalculated how many of them would be there. Such a small feat, but there was a part of him that wanted someone to acknowledge that. To see all the bruises and bloody scabs, to pat him on the back and tell him he was great for how hard he was working.

How childish. 

Now that there is someone and he seems to be fully aware of Tim’s misery - enough to apologize for speaking a little too loud - Tim only feels small and stupid. He should’ve hidden it better, he shouldn’t be in this sorry state at all. 

The last time he saw Jason, they made amends. Just returned to Gotham after his mishaps with the League of Shadows, Tim found him to let him know he was aware that Red Hood was active again. Jason had said - albeit not in so many words - he lamented trying to kill Tim one year ago. Tim had told him it was water under the bridge by now and they agreed to work around each other, even if Jason still didn’t meet Dick eye to eye after last year. Then Tim had promised himself he would become strong like that. Jason had been through hell and back so many times and he always bounced back on his own. Why couldn’t Tim?

Maybe that’s why it felt like rubbing salt to the injury when Tim glares at Jason, the boy he was supposed to replace, the man whose shoes were too big for Tim to fill, and Tim’s vision is blurry with tears and his voice is overflowing with frustration when he asks yet again:

“What are you doing here?”

Jason meets his gaze. His brown eyes show clear unease, but he doesn’t look away. His brow is furrowed as though this is painful to admit, but he finally says:

“I heard you were probably hurt like that,” Jason gestures at Tim’s bare torso. “I knew you weren’t going to the cave for aid, so I brought the aid to you.”

“How did you know that?”

“Because if it were me, I wouldn’t go there either,” he states simply.

Tim bites his lip. “You dealt with your wounds alone after you came back.”

“Yes,” Jason says. He gestures at the counter again. This time, Tim sits. “I know it sucks. You ever tried stitching your own back? It’s really fucking hard.”

Tim looks down and doesn’t say anything. Jason brings a damp cotton ball to Tim’s wounds and stats methodically cleaning them. Tim doesn’t flinch, even when it really stings. Even when he feels like shame and guilt are all going to drown him.

“How did you do it?” Tim finally asks.

“The back stitches? A mirror and one of those grabby claw things, whatever they’re called…”

Tim glares at him. 

“So serious,” Jason complains. Then, in a calm voice, “I did it the same way you were doing before I got here. If I didn’t I’d die. Guess I wanted to keep living. You’d be impressed with the things people do when they have no other option.”

“You’re incredible,” Tim admits quietly. “I’m not like you. I’m not strong or… I gotta do this alone. I don’t know how.”

He doesn’t know why he’s saying out loud all the things he struggled to keep hidden for so fucking long. Jason doesn’t seem surprised with the confession though. He keeps calmly checking Tim’s injuries. 

“Not strong, huh? Which one of us took fifteen guys in a fight and won?”

“You know what I mean, Jason.”

“Yeah.” Jason grabs the needle Tim picked earlier and checks it before starting to work. “I know. Except you don’t gotta do anything, Timbers. And I don’t mean the vigilante thing. Fuck, I know none of us can quit this fucking life. We’re in too deep. I meant you’re not supposed to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. That’s what fucked up the old man. That’s how you lose yourself.”

“What’s that?” Tim scoffs. “You sound like a shrink.”

Jason looks up and smirks. “Maybe I have a shrink.”

Tim frowns. “Who?”

“Guess.”

“Jason.”

He chuckles. “Okay, so… I know it seems crazy, but she found me and asked me to join my crew in exchange for taking off this explosive thing that Amanda Waller put in her. And she’s crazy competent, so…”

“No,” Tim interrupts him. “You did not let Harley Quinn join your crew.”

“Actually, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy,” Jason has a shit eating grin even as he finishes his stitch job. “They’re a package deal. Ivy showed up a couple of days after Harley and I couldn’t get her to leave so…”

“You’re working with Harley Quinn and letting her give you therapy sessions,” Tim says. “Am I on a parallel Earth? Have those guys killed me and I’m hallucinating?”

“A lot changes in a year, Timbers, you’ve been gone for a while,” Jason shrugs. “People change too.”

“Not that much!” Tim protests. 

“Is that so? Then how come you gave me, what now, three, four second chances?” Jason glares at him.

That catches Tim off guard. He takes a moment to realize what he’s talking about. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Tim asks, genuinely confused.

“I came back, I tried to kill you. You let it go. I get arrested, you help me to break out. I thank you by losing it after seeing B’s clusterfuck of a testament. You come back like it was nothing and tell me you hope to do business in the future. And you think I’m insane for giving shelter to an abused lady?”

“I’m not saying you’re insane for helping her. I’m saying I wouldn’t trust her advice,” Tim corrects. “Besides I know what you’ve been through. I understand, even if the others don’t. You’re still a hero. Why wouldn’t I help you get back in the game?”

“Because I could hurt you again, you moron,” Jason frustratedly points out.

“You could also be helpful. I decided it was worth taking the chance,” Tim states.

“Yeah, you did,” Jason whispers, using the bandaging as an excuse to avoid Tim’s gaze. “You’re the best of us, Tim. I’m not letting you crash like I did so many times.”

Tim just stares, his lips parted in shock. 

That’s when he feels the dam breaking and tears finally start to stream freely down his cheeks. He sniffles and makes that horrible choked up sound of someone vainly trying not to cry. Jason keeps tending to his injuries even as Tim’s body shakes with barely contained sobs and Tim doesn’t know if he’s ignoring the meltdown out of mercy or because he simply doesn’t know how to deal with it. It’s probably both. 

By the time Jason finishes wrapping up Tim’s many scrapes and rubbing medicine on countless bruises, Tim has managed to contain his sobs and is gingerly trying to wipe his face and pretending he doesn’t feel like he almost drowned.

“Listen, I know it’s hard, Baby Bird,” Jason mutters, a tad awkwardly. “But I’m not going anywhere. It’s not just you against the world.”

“Then what, is it the two of us against it?” Tim tries to quip.

“Maybe,” Jason says. “You did a lot for me. It’s about time I start deserving it.”

“I didn’t do it because I wanted you to pay me back.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m here, dumbass,” Jason takes a step back. “I’m done. Go get changed into a pair of sweatpants or something. I’m gonna introduce you to the wonders of 2am cereal.”

Tim lets out a chuckle. “I’ve eaten cereal at 2am before, Jason.”

“Not mine, you haven’t. Chop, chop, kid, we don’t have all night.”

Tim listens to him. 

He should know better, after all he had experienced new beginnings before. All of them inevitably lead to crashing and burning, some rather spectacularly too.

However… There are a few firsts here. This is the first time someone truly understands. This is the first time Tim doesn’t feel like he’s entering a challenge, that he has to earn his place as Robin, as Young Justice’s leader. He feels like his place had been earned, like there’s a small beacon of hope after a long struggle. 

Tim lets himself accept it.

#wingsdingsandpurplethings #jason todd #red hood #red robin #tim drake #red bros #batfam #poteto writing #sorry it took me so long leaps

[onebourbon-oneshot-onetear]

Aquatica

Chapter 1-Evie

Hello everyone. This is the beginning of my series featuring my own OC and Bruce Wayne, specifically from the animated Justice League series. Each chapter is based off of an episode in the series. This is actually the first work I ever started, so the first chapters are a little rough, but they get better through the end. This is also on my Ao3 (Volleygirl13). Please let me know if you enjoy!

I do not own D.C Comics, and I only own my OC and my versions of the plots.

I'm not a superhero. At least, I never thought of myself as one. I just always tried to do the right thing and hoped that it would all work out. I knew of plenty of people who would try and do the right things in life like I did, and they were never considered as superheroes. Of course, not everyone has the abilities like I do. I guess my abilities put the super in superhero. But whatever. Either way, I didn't think I was so super.

Before I start going into a philosophical rant about what makes a hero, I should probably explain who I am. My name is Evelyn Lowry. I never liked being called by my full first name. I mean seriously, Evelyn? What kind of a name is that? It sounds like some 18th century snobby aristocrat. No, I was always called Eves, at least by my parents, they were the only ones who were allowed to call me that. My sister and my friends always called me Evie. At first I didn't like that as much. Evie still sounded too sweet like a little girl in a bubble gum pink dress and pigtails. Ew. As I got older I realized that the name wasn't so bad. It was a lot like me, feminine but simple.

I suppose I look alright, that is, I never saw myself as drop dead gorgeous or anything. I was pretty tall for a girl, at about 5'9 (and no for you really rude people, I have never played basketball a day in my life. Gosh I am so tired of hearing that). I actually look a lot like my mother, with really dark brown hair that almost looks black, and bright dark blue eyes. My eyes weren't always this bright, but they changed after my, uh, accident. With the information I had now I never referred to this event as an 'accident' but for now I'll call it an accident.

I had a pretty normal childhood. We lived in suburban Gotham my whole life. I can tell what you're thinking, and yes, there is a suburban part of Gotham, it isn't all just dark and creepy big city setting with places like the Narrows. There is a happier side to it. Anyway, I lived about 20 minutes outside of the city in a big blue house complete with dog and a picket fence. Most people would say my life was perfect, and it was. Until I turned 12. It was actually my 12th birthday. That was the day my life changed. You see, I didn't want to go anywhere for my birthday… but my parents, well, they just had to try and do something special.

Don't get me wrong I love my parents, I really do. But aside from my mother's looks and my father's sense of humor we were nothing alike. I'm talking polar opposites, day and night, fire and water, those kinds of opposites. They had grown up as the elite class of Gotham. That 1 percent of people who never had to worry about money, and who always had the newest technology and gadgets before they even hit the public market. Now please don't think of them as these snobby old rich people, because they weren't that either. They ran a respectable business and always treated their employees with respect and gave them extra pay and vacation days, which is a lot considering some companies in this city barely pay their employers with minimum wage. A lot of people loved and respected my parents.

Anyway, back to what I was saying. I remember that day so clearly even when I try to forget it ever happened at all. A terrible storm had rolled in during the afternoon and it hadn't left by dinnertime. The thunder and lightning was so loud it shook the house. My little sister, Caitlyn, was terrified. She was hiding under my bed with our dog because they both were scared. That seemed to be the spot both of them went to whenever they were scared. At first I was annoyed by it because they would always come in my room, but I realized that I didn't mind protecting them. I was the older sister after all. It was my job to take care of them and make sure they were safe.

"Mom," I whined, "I really don't want to go anywhere tonight. Let's just stay home and watch movies and eat junk food. That's really all I want!"

"Eves sweetie, you know your father and I had to spend so much money to get the tickets for the art museum exhibit tonight. And we had to pull some strings to get into the restaurant as well." my mother told me. I looked down into my lap feeling really guilty. This whole art museum and dinner thing was my idea a couple weeks ago. I hadn't realized just how much my parents had to spend in order to make it happen for me.

I looked up at my mom's face as lightning lit up my room and thunder shook the walls. She looked so excited to go, I didn't want to ruin the night for her. "You know what, I changed my mind. I think we should go. It'll be fun." My mom immediately perked up and got that really excited look in her eyes, the look that made her eyes seem to glow a bright blue and her smile was infectious. I saw just how excited she was for all of us to go out. Mom loves going out and seeing the town, shopping, buying make up, typical girl things. In many ways I always felt like I was more mature than my mother. I was more down to earth and she was more childlike than I ever had been.

"I'm so glad you changed your mind sweetheart! Now, go get dressed, we have to leave in an hour." My mom bent over and whispered something to my sister. My sister squealed with delight, running out of my room and my mom laughing and chasing after her. My dog climbed out from under my bed and looked up at me. "Well, I guess we are going out then."

After the fifteen minutes it took me to go get ready I waited in the parlor of our house. I looked outside at the thunder and lightning and noticed that the rain had started. What started out as a few drops turned into a torrential down-pour. I could barely hear my sister sneak up behind me over the rain hitting the glass, but I could sense she was there. She thinks she's a super sneaky ninja, but I think that she doesn't know how to be quiet under any circumstance. "Cait, what do you think you're doing?"

Cait looked at me with her big brown eyes and a mischievous grin that I knew very well. She was planning something. And that was usually bad news for me. My sister was three years younger than me, and she was the exact spitting image of my dad. Blonde hair, brown eyes, and that little bump on the bridge of her nose. Also like my dad, Cait was a total prankster. Numerous times had I walked into my room and she had put a rubber snake on the floor in order to scare me, or she hid under my bed and grabbed my ankle when I woke up in the morning, or her latest prank, she put toothpaste all over the toilet seat so when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night I sat down in it. I never retaliated because I knew she was just having some fun. I didn't want to ruin it.

Cait didn't answer me, she just kept grinning. That's bad news. That meant she had already gotten her prank ready, she just had to wait for me to walk into it. I rolled my eyes, but smiled a little bit. I turned to watch the rain, not knowing that soon enough whatever prank she was going to pull on me wouldn't matter.

Half an hour later we were all gathered in the car and on our way to Gotham to the art museum. My sister was complaining about the music my mom wanted to listen to, my mom was arguing with my dad about how fast the windshield wipers should be going, and I just sat there looking out the window. Eventually I just tuned them all out. I didn't want to listen to arguing on my birthday.

As I was looking out the window at the down pour, our car started jerking and swerving. We were gaining speed and my dad couldn't stop the car. My sister was screaming in the back because she was scared, my mom was urgently telling my dad to try and use the brakes, and my dad was yelling back that the brakes weren't working. I sat there frozen, there was nothing I could do. With a roar of thunder and a flash of lightning, our car stopped suddenly and I was jerked forward so hard my face hit the back of the drivers' seat. In all the commotion and panic my dad didn't see the tree lying in the middle of the road. The tree we collided into. It was so quiet after the deafening impact of the crash that had happened only moments before. The last thing I remember was looking over at my sister and saw that she wasn't moving. There was another flash of lightning, my eyes started to close and then everything went dark.

When I woke up, I saw hands trying to pry open my car door. They finally got the car open and the paramedics started working on me, putting my neck in a brace and making sure there was no glass sticking into my arms. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that nobody was anywhere near my parents or my sister. I wanted to ask them why they weren't doing anything to help them. Why they were so still? Why weren't they waking up yet? Then in my haze I realized why.

The truth came down on me like a ton of bricks. They weren't walking away from this. They weren't going home. I started thrashing and trying to get back to the car but I was already strapped down to the stretcher. I couldn't understand what the people were trying to tell me but I heard them all yelling. I felt a prick in my neck and everything went dark again.

The following months and years following the car accident was a blur. I had gone from having a loving family and a perfect life to being an orphan and bouncing around foster homes. I never stayed with a family longer than 5 weeks. I just couldn't get comfortable with random strangers who I was supposed to make my family. I felt a stab of guilt every time I started to feel comfortable with a new family. This went on for a while, until I was seventeen. Then I enlisted in the Navy. I figured I couldn't afford to go to college since I couldn't touch my bank accounts until I was 18, and I wouldn't have known what to do after college anyway. At least in the military I would have three meals a day and a roof over my head.

I pushed and forced myself to work through the ranks and in four years I was asked to be in a specific group of soldiers. We were trained in advanced hand to hand combat, and weapons training. Not to brag or anything, but I was the top of our group. Apparently when you have nowhere else to go and nothing else to do it is pretty easy to give all of your focus into your work. My work just happened to be learning how to kill someone with something as insignificant as a safety pin. As good as I was at the training, I never thought I would ever be able to actually kill someone. But still, I trained so that if I had to, I would be able to protect myself.

I can't really discuss any more of my training. I still have contracts with the military that I am still required to follow. What I can tell you is, I was very good at my job. One day I was testing out some new weapons when I got a call to go to one of the labs. I didn't really question it, I had been called down before to try and test some different formulas for field work (again, more stuff I can't really talk about).

I had walked into the lab and I saw that it was empty. At first I thought that I was late, but when I looked at my watch, I realized that I was right on time. I stood there for another moment before I heard a noise. It sounded like something was sparking. Like a live wire had been put into a puddle of water and it was still sizzling. It was probably a really stupid move, but my instincts told me to walk over to where I heard the noise. It was the in furthest corner of the lab, a white machine that had a bottle of blue liquid in it. I walked closer to it; the noise continued to grow louder. I looked around me to see if there was anyone in a white lab coat who would have even an inkling of what to do in this situation. I looked back at the machine and saw that it was spinning and sparking at an alarming rate. A high pitched noise started coming from it, growing higher and higher in frequency. A small voice in my head told me to get out of there. For once I listened to that voice. I started backing away, but I was too late. There was a bright white light, an explosion, and then everything went dark.

I woke up in a hospital bed. The doctors came in and told me there was an accident, and that I now had special 'abilities'. At first I thought they were crazy, but then I stopped and realized that I did feel different. I didn't look over to see the cup of water on the table next to my bed, but I knew it was there and I could feel the water inside the cup. Each little water molecule that was bouncing around inside the cup, I could feel all of them, as if the water itself was present in my mind. It's hard to explain, but there was no other explanation for it. I could sense the water molecules that were inside the doctors and nurses in the room, as the blood pulsed through them I could sense the water as well. I could even tell that it had rained earlier in the day because of a few drops of water on the window sill. I was scared. I mean, being a really cool bad ass soldier was one thing, but sensing water? That was something else entirely. The doctors gave me some more medicine since I had bruised myself up pretty badly in the explosion. The morphine made me tired and I was in and out of consciousness for hours at a time.

I spent a couple days in the hospital. Different doctors and scientists wanted to know what I could do with these new abilities. I found that I could move around and manipulate the water in whatever way I thought of. Spheres, squares, octagons, dodecagons…well I think you get the point. If I concentrated hard enough, I could stop the molecules in the cups of water from moving and it would freeze solid. Eventually I could do it on instinct, without even thinking about the molecules and just wishing that the water turned to ice. As cool as it was, it was tiring. For days on end I would sit in bed and demonstrate my new powers to everyone who would walk into my room. The doctors even put me into a machine that could look at my brain as I used my powers. They never told me everything that the scan showed, they just said that it had become a natural instinct for me, whatever that meant. I was too tired most of the time to think about it.

On the fourth day of sitting in the hospital I was well enough to walk again. I decided that I had had enough of being a performing monkey for all of these doctors and scientists and I wanted to go for a walk. I got up to walk out the door, but I noticed that it wasn't closed all the way. I could hear hushed voices talking outside, a male and a female.

"…she could be the greatest weapon the military has ever seen. Even without training she is still powerful. Imagine what she could do with even more combat training." the male voice said.

"Yes, but is she going to be willing to comply when she realizes we will use her to hurt people?" the female asked.

"I don't think she has a choice. She is an asset now, we can't just let her go."

My eyes widened and I didn't want to hear any more, I slowly retreated back to my bed and sat down. They want to use me as a weapon? I didn't want to be forced to hurt people. The very thought made me angry. How dare they think they can just use me to do their dirty work. I knew I couldn't stay there anymore. I found my clothes, got dressed and waited for the shift change for the doctors and nurses and I snuck out. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew that I couldn't stay and be a human weapon.

After my "accident" I had to lay low. Like, really low. Everywhere I turned I was afraid there would be someone from the hospital watching me, or someone sent to capture me and take me back to the military to be a weapon. These were pretty stressful times for me, at least for the first couple of months until I was able to hitch my way back to Gotham. I had no money, no new clothes, and nowhere to go. I hadn't bathed in ages and I looked like a homeless person. I decided that I had to go somewhere familiar, so I went to the library that I had frequented as a kid.

I went in to get out of the rain one night and saw that the place was empty. I logged onto one of the computers and searched my name. I wanted to see if I had been wanted by the government or something, but I only found some old articles from when my parents and sister died. I had an idea and logged onto the website for the bank my parents used. I remembered the old usernames and passwords in order to get into my parent's information. It turns out that when my parents died I was left behind a decent amount of money. I decided that I didn't really need all of the money, just enough to buy or rent a small place so I would at least be off the streets. If I take the money, that would be an easy way for the government to track me, I thought.

I needed to find a way to get the cash so there would be no money trail behind me. At least the Navy taught me some hacking skills. With my limited computer skills, I managed to get into the banking system and wire all of the money through to an offshore account that I had setup. It was completely untraceable and now I could use my money however I needed to. It had only taken a few minutes and I looked around to make sure that nobody saw me. I waited until morning and I went to an ATM to withdraw some cash and I bought a tiny apartment in a sketchy looking apartment building in the middle of Gotham. It was a small one bedroom place, but it was plenty of room for me.

As time went on, I had to make a decision on what to do with these new powers. I had been working with them every day and I had gotten stronger. I also continued my morning runs and exercise regime that I had been doing in the Navy. To be honest, I was in the best shape that I had ever been in. I was confident in my new abilities, and I was sure that I wouldn't lose control and hurt others. This power seemed to do whatever I wanted it to, no questions asked, almost like the water was a part of me. There were some major perks, but there was also some disadvantages, like when the apartment next to me had a leaky faucet and I could hear the water drip. All. Night. Long. That was annoying.

One day I was watching the news on the tiny little T.V that sat in the corner of my kitchen. There had been a break in at a bank in Metropolis, the neighboring city. I sat there amazed as I watched Superman and Green Lantern take out the robbers with ease. They were real heroes. They didn't use their abilities for selfish reasons, and they certainly didn't hide them. In that moment I decided that I wanted to be like them. I wanted to use my powers to help people, to make them feel safe. And lord knows Gotham could always use some help. I made a call to a contact I still had in the Navy. His name was Hank and he was a sweet older gentleman. He worked in the research and development section and he always gave my unit new gear before anyone else could even set their eyes on it. I called in a favor and asked if he could hook me up with some stuff for 'recreational purposes'. At least that is what I told him I would be doing. I didn't think running around Gotham in jeans and a sweatshirt would be a good idea. After talking to Hank he said we could meet at some of the docks in Gotham.

Later that night I made my way over to the docks. I decided I couldn't draw attention to myself and I wore a dark sweatshirt with skinny jeans and some sneakers. I met Hank exactly where he said he would be, in a corner of the docks where a dull orange light cast shadows onto the surrounding crates. "Hey Hank, how's it going?"

Hank looked up at me and for the first time since I had known him I saw a grin on his face. Usually he was surly and gruff, but the more you got to know him the sweeter he became. Despite this sweetness, he never really smiled. In his defense though, whenever we really spoke at work we talked about weapons and how much damage it could do to people and places. Not necessarily the kind of stuff you smile over. But there Hank stood, smiling at me like I was a million bucks.

"Nice to see you kid. It's been too long." Hank said.

"Yeah, you too Hank. Look, I really hate to bother you and all, especially since you could get in a lot of trouble for just talking to me. It's a big risk for you, and I appreciate it."

"It's no problem at all. I've missed you, you were my favorite out of your unit. You always respected everything I showed you and treated it properly. Those other idiots would always mess around, nearly killing themselves. So, what is it that you've called me for? I figured you would be staying underground due to your…circumstances." I didn't even want to know how Hank new about my accident. I thought that the Navy would be keeping it as quiet as they could.

"I was. I mean, I am for right now, but I don't think I can any longer. It's been months Hank. I need to go out and do something. I can't just sit around with these powers I have and not use them. I feel like now I have a responsibility to help people and keep them safe." I said all of that in one breath I stopped and took a deep one. It was nice to finally talk to someone, to let out everything that had been stirring up inside of me for weeks and months. This isn't something you can just talk to anyone about. If I told people that I had water powers they would think I was insane. I looked up at Hank, and for the second time that night Hank was smiling.

"Well, it's about time. I thought I would get a call from you ages ago. I already started making stuff for you to use. I just had to wait for your call in order to give it to you." I looked at him in disbelief. How could he know what I was going to do when even I wasn't sure what I wanted to do? "So, do you want to continue this therapy session, or do you want to see what I made you?" Hank smugly asked me.

I kept looking at him in disbelief. "You're amazing, you know that?" He just nodded. "Well, let's show me what you've got."

Hank pulled out a duffel bag. "First things first kid. You need an outfit." He pulled out what looked like a dark leotard. "This is the body of your outfit. Dark blue, to match your water powers. The material is thin and very breathable. It's also resistant to cuts and scrapes. You could have a knife go across your chest and it won't leave a mark. It is also waterproof so when you use your powers you won't be running around soaking wet." Then he pulled out some black leggings. "These are made of the same material as the top piece. I'm assuming you still have your combat boots. Those will work fine." He laid everything out on the crate that sat between us. "This is the most important item here." He pulled out a dark grey rod that was leaning against the crate. "This material is very rare and very special. As far as I know it's the only piece that has ever been recovered."

"But what exactly is it?" I asked.

"This is Aquam Petram. It's Latin for Water Rock. This rock is basically made of water, but has the feel of rock. This will allow you to use your water even if there is no water near you. You can slowly extract water from the rod and then put it back." I picked up the rod and could immediately feel the water inside. I twirled it around my fingers. The staff was about 5 feet long and very sturdy; I could probably hit one of these crates with it and it wouldn't even get a crack in it. I looked closer at the staff and saw that it had carvings of waves going around it. It was simple and subtle, and I loved it. "That's everything kid. You should have whatever else you need."

"Umm Hank, what about a mask? Shouldn't I keep my identity a secret?" Hank looked at me with a curious look on his face. Actually, curious isn't exactly the right word; his face was practically screaming 'how exactly are you so dumb?' "What?" I asked him.

"Evie, you don't really need to hide from anyone. You don't have a family to protect and the only people that know you have powers aren't going to call you out on it. I would only get them in trouble with human experimentation. I don't think you are going to need a mask." He said. "Besides, how else will all the men see your face? You're getting old, you need to start looking for someone." Hank teasingly said. I could feel my face turn bright red. Like BRIGHT red. I could probably fry an egg on my face, that's how much heat was coming off of it.

"Thanks Hank," I said. "Cause that's what I'm worried about, finding a husband." Pssh yeah, like I'm going to find someone who would be okay with dating a girl who can control water and catches criminals. 'Oh sorry honey, I can't go on a date right now, I have a world to save and bad guys to stop!' Cause that will go over really well with the men. Hank interrupted my thoughts.

"Well, I think it's time we went our separate ways, kid." I looked up at Hank and was surprised to see he had a sad look in his eyes. Almost like he didn't want me to go. I realized now that there was no turning back. I was going on my own to stop the bad guys, I couldn't have the Navy backing me up anymore. I had to do this by myself. I suddenly became unsure of my idea. How could I do this?

Hank must have understood what I was thinking and he grabbed my shoulder. "Evie, you are one of the strongest people I know. You have lost so much, and you have been given a responsibility that most people cannot even imagine. Through all of this you have still been an amazing person and your entire life you have wanted to help people. This is just another chapter in your life, and you will be just fine." I didn't realize that I had tears welled up in my eyes until they started falling. It had been so long since I had somebody tell me they believed in me and was proud of me. I hadn't hear that my parents died. I gave Hank a watery smile and attempted to say thank you, but my throat was too tight and the words wouldn't come out. Hank gave me a pat on the shoulder, another rare smile, and he walked back towards the parking lot. I stayed on the dock looking down at the outfit that was still lying on the crate. I took a deep breath, packed all of it away, grabbed my new staff, and walked towards the city lights. Let the new chapter of my life begin.

#Batman #Bruce Wayne #Batman x oc #Bruce Wayne x oc #Justice League 2001 #oc

[kittsfics]

Birds Always Find Home

Read on AO3

Only two people have ever seen Jason’s wings.

He has vague memories of them before he was thrown in the Lazarus pits, great skeletal shapes over his shoulders, held together simply by magic. Nothing like they are now; powerful and beautiful, all muscle and dark feathers. Bands of browns and reds so deep they barely show among the black. But in the right light they're dazzling.

It takes him months to learn control, changing them from flickers at the edge of his consciousness to manifesting physically in the sanctuary of his bedroom. Always alert, never feeling safe, he never considered the league's compound a home. He longs to see if he can fly, if feeling the wind beneath his feathers can possibly feel as good as he imagines; but the complex is in no way a safe place for experiments. He has dreams occasionally, or memories perhaps, of Superman carrying him through the air, their hair blowing everywhere, both of them laughing. He longs to find out if flying under his own power is better.

He can’t wait to fly away.

--

Jason knows what the league expects him to do when he is finally returned to Gotham, what Talia trained him for, but he's always prided himself on being contrary. He's been wound up tight, then pointed straight at the Bats; Bruce himself of course, and Dick, but mainly the new Robin. Tim. Talia called him a replacement, said that he didn't deserve the place at Batman's side.

But the thing is, he knows Tim. Their quiet neighbour, always willing to escape to an out of way corner at society functions, with plates stacked high from the buffet, hiding a brain that Jason had been sure would rival Bruce's. Maybe he does now. But he also knows the stubborn kid with a camera, the one he'd never told Batman about, the one that had worked out their patrol routes and identities both. That could climb almost as well as Jason despite his tiny size, that Jason had offered to teach how to throw a punch, dodge hits, and eventually use a grapple.

All that it seems to him, when Talia calls Tim replacement, is that he's succeeded in becoming what Jason always knew he'd be.

Talia always emphasises Batman over Bruce, the fact that he had a new sidekick rather than a new son. Which Jason reckons is smart, because he's seen the kid that trails after her occasionally, the one that looks too much like Bruce, and knows she's counting on the fact that Bruce will always accept more children. Jason's always known he'd never be the last.

So when he reaches Gotham, he instead goes straight after Joker, the thick walls of Arkham still not enough to hold him. Batman gets between them, of fucking course, and the Lazarus rage in his veins screams at him to kill them both for what they did. Or for what Talia claimed they did? He's hazy on the details, and honestly in general, clarity striking him the same time a batarang does, catching him across his collarbone, too close to his throat. Jason does the only thing he can, he runs.

He lies low after that, no one seemed to have recognised him, and why would they, he's dead after all.

--

Staking out a claim in Crime Alley is easier than he'd thought; once he drove out Black Mask's men, most others fell in line. He slowly learns how to look after himself. Between the rage, ptsd and depression it's a miracle he has good days at all. But on those rare days, he finds out that flying is exactly as amazing as he always imagined.

Batman comes after him eventually, dragging Nightwing and Robin into the mess. But Jason stands tall, helmet off but domino over his eyes, and argues for himself. Makes a promise that is both easy and hard to keep, all depending on how close he is to the clown. He tells them about a boy with Bruce's eyes, Talia's smile, and knives never far from his hands. Too young to be involved in this war of theirs, but weren't they all once? The Bats are all snarling and suspicion, and that's fair, he's just revealed he knows who they are after all.

But they still don't recognise him, and he still doesn't blame them, but they fall into a balance anyway. He hates the way it feels like both an act and coming home.

--

Tim's the only Bat that's seen his wings, a result of a shared case, rain across the metal of a bridge tower and a small army of somebody's henchman coming after the two of them. One slip and a brightly coloured figure falling towards the rock speckled water below, grapple missing the support bars by inches.

Jason just reacts instinctively, throwing himself after, wings manifesting with a half formed thought, and he sees Tim's eyes widen under his mask. He catches the smaller figure, tucking him against his chest and spreads his wings, almost screaming at the pain in his shoulders as they take the unfamiliar weight. He manages to get them to shore, collapsing in an unlit alley. Then Tim's tugging at his helmet, Jason unable to make sense of what he's trying to say, and his wings feel like they're on fire.

Everything gets a little blurry after that.

--

He somehow ends up with the Outlaws on an actual real life fucking spaceship. The exact details are kind of hazy; when, where, that sort of thing. He's definitely not been as in control as he used to be, and memory hadn't been his friend since before his death anyway. Too many gaps, too many things he wasn't sure were real, too many nightmares he hoped had just been that.

But now he's in a spaceship with Roy and Kori, both in some ways as broken as him, and who understood more than he would ever admit. They fit, the three of them. And home becomes metal walls, Kori's excited shouts and Roy's quiet laughter. They fall into a rhythm of research and fighting and film nights and evenings on deserted islands.

He starts to find himself again. No that's not quite right, he'll never be that Jason again; the bright eyed Robin, the teenager with dreams of an English degree, maybe not even the Gotham street rat. But there are still fragments of those boys, he just needs to build around them.

Pit rage comes less often now, although through time or distance from the Bats he's not sure. They have a numerical system for all of them, where a six is a bad day and a ten is something they're all terrified off but they’ve never quite reached. Jason doesn't like to think of the days that come close. His memories start to settle, but there's no one he can ask to check they're settling right, he can only hope. Things start to feel less syrupy somehow, the dull edges of his life starts to sharpen, everything gains more clarity. His head, his heart, the world around him. He starts cooking again, picks up a book for the first time in years, joins Roy in tinkering with gadgets and Kori in watching those awful sitcoms from her home planet.

Somewhere along the line he starts feeling like a person again.

--

Roy claims he almost gave him a heart attack the first time he sees his wings, and maybe Jason will admit it's not his finest moment either. A desperate kiss on a rooftop then nothing but the archer's shout in his ear as Jason grabs him round the waist and throws them off the edge, the explosion behind them close enough to singe the edges of his feathers. Been there, done that, no thanks.

It takes him a few weeks to ask if he could see them again, voice hesitant, reverent even. And Jason learns exactly how much trust he has in Roy, in the two of them together. He also learns it feel incredible to have someone else's fingers run through them, light at first but quickly gaining confidence. Jason’s never been complimented so much in his life, Roy presses kisses across his body and promises to do better.

He stops counting how many times the archer sees them after a couple of months. How many times he buries his hands in them, how many times his knuckles brush across them where they hang over the back of the sofa, how many times they wrap around the two of them, blocking out the rest of the world.

--

He returns to Gotham as often as he can between missions, making sure the people he protects stay safe. He never tells the Bats, although Tim texts him ever so often. Just updates on what’s happening with the major players, how Damian’s settling into their mess of a family and pictures of Dick falling off things. He wonders how Tim knows he would appreciate them. It starts to feel less like a chore, and more like speaking to one of his best friends again. It hits him one night, curled up against Roy’s side, exactly how much he’d missed him.

The second time Tim sees his wings the two of them are sitting on the edge Wayne tower, ironically. Jason knows the cameras are off and Tim is dying to ask, so he manifests them, pulling off his domino; entirely unprepared for the choked whisper of his name and a little bird, a little brother, slamming against his chest, fingers frantically tangling in his clothes. All he can do is wrap him in his arms around Tim and hold him as tight as he can, pressing his face into dark hair, and eventually answer everything he can.

--

After that, home becomes Roy's arms around him, face tucked against his shoulder and drooling on his shirt, fingers that build bombs gently running through his feathers. It becomes Tim's voice over the phone, arguing with him about his newest case or telling him about his lunch with Alfred, making something in his chest ache. It becomes safehouses in Gotham, his brother sprawled out on the sofa, tapping away on a laptop or talking a mile a minute, drastically over caffeinated. But most of all it's lazy kisses and whatever bed he and Roy curl up in to catch a few hours sleep.

Home has always been the people he loved.

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#jason todd #red hood #jayroy #my fics #batfam