#hating steph is a disease

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

out of curiosity, do you have any preferred headcanons for how tall the members of the Batfam are? who's the tallest to shortest?

listen I don't have exact measurements but I do have vibes. I'm going to say right out of the gate that I simply do not hold with DC artists and their habit of Russian nesting dolling the Robins so they're each a little bit shorter with age, it's a useful visual shorthand but it's also not my truth even if I sometimes agree with portions.

for instance: I do have to concede that Bruce needs to be the tallest of the Batboys in order to enable a lot of his whole schtick, especially your modern era Batmans who are built to be tanks as opposed to the sleeker, more acrobatically-oriented Batman of earlier ages. Batfleck honestly had a great build for it, 6'4 and built to loom.

on the other hand, I Know what male gymnasts look like and Dick came from a whole family of them; he doesn't need to be SHORT short but brother he is not the tallest Robin by any stretch. he's 5'8 if he's Lucky, likely shorter. and he's fine with it! he isn't insecure about being a compact king!

I strongly dislike the recent development towards drawing adult Jason as a brute, but I have long enjoyed the headcanon that he would have had a hard growth spurt after Bruce took him in and he didn't have to worry about food insecurity. he is absolutely taller than Dick but, HOT TAKE, I don't think he's a Lot taller. as Red Hood he's definitely exaggerating the difference with chunky boots + his stupid full-face mask for extra height, + his jacket and all his gear make him look taller and broader than Nightwing in his little skintight getup. out of costume they physically look much more similar.

I also super hate when Tim is drawn as a skinny short little waif, genuinely there's no reason for that. that's a little American rich boy who grew up on milk and white bread, there's no reason for him to look like he has Victorian urchin wasting disease. fuck this, Tim is taller than both Dick and Jason. same energy as the improv kid I went to high school with who was 5'11 but cool about it.

completing the circle and fully reversing the Robins, I know that other fans have pointed out that Damian's Asian heritage conspires against him being hugelarge as an adult, but genetics are a grab bag and I think he deserves to be Bruce-sized. adult Damian can pick Dick up and put him in the fridge if he wants. at present though his growth spurt is really taking its sweet time and he's hovering around Cass-height (see below).

Duke is hovering in a zone right between Jason and Tim but everyone forgets that and imagines him being taller because the little bat ears on his helmet give him a couple extra inches.

a lot of older comics, especially the Dixon run, frequently have Selina drawn like she's tall as all hell, and I honestly love that for her. 5'11, Megan Thee Stallion kind of build for her.

Cass is frequently drawn as tiny to an extent that is, frankly, implausible and borderline upsetting (if memory serves she literally got folded up and carried in a backpack once?) but listen: she's certainly not tall. I'm willing to offer her 5'3 as an absolute maximum. also literally no one asked but Michelle Yeoh is the Lady Shiva of my heart and shes 5'4, so that's canon To Me.

however tall Dick is in your head I want you to add one (1) inch and that's Barbara. this is so crucial to me.

Steph is like a deeply average 5'4 and a half, and I realize this Does mean that I've Russian nesting dolled the Batgirls (at least in order of appearance in comics, not the actual order they Batgirls) and I am Fine with that. throw Harper Row in here too, she and Steph are just chilling being average height gal pals.

Helena is freakishly tall by Italian woman standards, by which I mean like 5'7.

this is vile and I'm sorry to the Robins but unfortunately Jean Paul is a genetically engineered freak bred to kill so he's probably taller than all of them save for an adult Damian. 6'2 to my miserable boy. beginning to think I was lying when I said I didn't have exact numbers.

so I think in descending order the lineup I've created is Bruce, JP, Selina and Tim, Duke, Jason and Babs, Dick, Helena, Steph and Harper, Damian, Cass.

did I skip anyone vital you want to know about?

#batblogging

[zahri-melitor]

Working on three separate fics that seem like they want to be too long. Trying to put some words into one of them each day as a mini Nano to get at least one finished or close to (Since I hate putting out things til I’m finished).

#because Tim is having adventures in Paris it is clearly a very innocuous story #nothing to see here #Morrison Disease I need to pack in some more angst #and Dick v Phone Calls is so much bureaucratic nonsense it’s fun

[dairy-farmer]

I love soulmate AUs. And I love hurting my favorite characters. I also had a very big, very long phase of Hanahaki AUs. Combine them all, I have Hanahaki disease as a consequence of soulmate rejection and Tim has this in your soulmate AU.

Tim is the smartest of the Robins, probably even smarter than Batman. But he was in love and in denial. He wanted to have a family, to live in the white picket fenced house with children and a dog or cat with his soulmate. He was in denial when Bruce keeps a relationship with Selena or when Dick was with Babs or nearly married to Kori or when he found out Red Hood was Jason and very much wants to kill him or when Damian kept on degrading or humiliating or actively trying to kill him. But he can't deny the flowers that come out of his mouth any longer. I'm not good with the flower language but imagine the different flowers that come out representing his love. He's been rejected by his soulmate. He really is as unlovable as his parents say.

I imagine the rejection comes in different times for every man. For brutim, it could be after Tim brought his soulmate back from the time stream but hadn't received any words from Bruce save for the thanks he got when he was rescued. They're at a family dinner, everyone in the family is present for once. Tim would be so excited because it's been weeks since he last saw or talked to Bruce outside patrol. He'd even ignore Damian, knowing it makes Bruce... Comfortable? Happy? That his soulmate and his son aren't fighting. So he ignored Damian even when his lung felt so suspiciously tight when he saw how differently Damian was treated from how he was treated. He tried to think logically. Damian is his son, yada, yada, yada. So he kept his mouth shut and ignored the looks Damian sent his way. But Damian didn't appreciate that and in true demon brat fashion, Damian brought up his mother wanting to see Bruce. Tim is starting to think that the spawn somehow has managed to learn that Tim is his father's soulmate. Nevermind, Tim will not dignify a response to that. But then Damian kept on pressing and decided to bring up Selena. The brat must really hate him if he's bringing up Selena and the rumors that Batman was seen with Catwoman a few nights ago, rumors that Tim desperately ignored. He doesn't know what he expects Bruce to say. Maybe deny the rumors? Defend Tim? Bruce does none of that. Tim spent the next hour of dinner, drinking water and swallowing his saliva, hoping to ease the tightness in throat and chest. He flees at the given chance, rushing to his apartment. He expects to throw up the dinner he just had. But flowers came instead. He definitely threw up his dinner after that when it became clear to him what just happened.

For dicktim, the flowers came when Dick announced that he's engaged to Kori or when Dick took Robin away. And I know that I just said that Tim was in denial when Dick was engaged to Kori. But imagine Tim who only wants to be with his soulmate, to be married to him. Weddings are a big deal to Tim. (Selena getting married to Bruce could've also been the time the flowers first appeared for brutim.) His soulmate getting married to someone else, planning a wedding with someone else. It would hurt so bad. He'll spend next few years simultaneously hoping he still wakes up the next day and hoping he doesn't. Kori and Dick doesn't last but the flowers remain. Then his dad dies, then Steph, then Bart, then Kon, then Bruce. Then Robin was gone. His soulmate gave it away to someone who has very nearly killed him. If the wedding didn't give him his flowers, this will. There are pros and cons to having the flowers early. Tim has learned how to live with the flowers threatening to fill his lungs. He doesn't know if he'll manage being so stressed out while also learning how to deal with it. But the years of abuse on his lungs have also left considerable damage on him. Enough that Ra's was considering removing the flowers regardless of the damage it may cause on Tim's soul without his consent during Tim's splenectomy. He was so sure he could've convinced the young detective. But Tim is a survivor. When Dick catches him from the fall and Tim calls Dick his brother, he has made his resolve.

For JayTim, the flowers came either on Titan's Tower or with the batarang on his chest. Maybe Jason is even aware of the Hanahaki while he was beating Tim up in the tower. Tim had no strength to keep the flowers down when it came. If Jason had more control, if he hadn't let the Pit overpower him, he would've realized that the scene of bruised bloodied skin littered with flowers was familiar, that he once knew someone else in the same state, same position as his soulmate. I'm not familiar with flowers but imagine the flowers having the same color as the bruises decorating Tim's skin. It would've been poetic and it might've lit the literature maniac part of Jason. But for now he was busy writing his name on the walls and decorating it with the blue and purple flowers. Months later, Jason is cured from the Pit. Apologies were made. Tim is rightfully distrustful but his love and duty to his family supercedes that. They form a tentative truce. The flowers are still there but for the first time, in months, his chest has felt lighter. Then Bruce dies and the Pit comes back. Jason was throwing a batarang to his chest. And Tim coughs up blood. And flowers.

For damitim, the flowers could come for so many times. Maybe when they first met and learn that they're soulmates. Maybe during the fall from the dinosaur. But I'm more partial to the time Damian cuts Tim's line. Damian was so, so angry when he saw the contingency plans his soulmate made. Contingency plans for him. He felt rejected. What's the use of a soulmate if they can't trust him? What's the use of a soulmate if they make plans to incapacitate him? Like that, Tim was rejected. His line was cut. All night, he was wondering why his chest feels tight. Why was he coughing up flowers, a few minutes before his patrol with Robin and Nightwing? Dick said Damian was better. So why? He was so preoccupied by this thoughts that he nearly hadn't been able to save himself when he realized he was falling. It took far too long for him to realize that someone cut his line, that someone wanted him dead. It took even far longer for him to realize that his soulmate wanted him dead. He tries to explain himself when he learns of the cause of his soulmate's ire. But Damian was having none of it. Not even when Bruce explained that even Batman himself, had contingency plans for his soulmate. For years, Tim tries and says sorry. Even as the flowers in his chest grew. Damian screams of rejection and betrayal. And the tired part of Tim wants to scream back. What do you know of betrayal? What do you know of rejection? You, who had no flowers growing in your chest. You, who had not laid in your bed wondering whether it's the last time or the last day. You, who had not made the difficult decision to limit your activities as a vigilante because the flowers in your lungs makes it hard to breathe, because the flowers in your lungs could very well kill you if you accidentally run into Ivy. Those were all the things Tim has to go through. Tim was the one whose relationship with the family grow even more distant, even more strained because the family sided with Damian who has been "rejected" by his soulmate. Even Bruce, who had initially came to Tim's defense, started to side with Damian.

Tim tries with all of them. He tries until he physically couldn't. He stops when a shortness of his breath, a stuttering of his heart, had distracted him and nearly killed him during a mission with the Titans. Had it not been for Kon who had heard the irregular beat of his heart. If I was a better person, Tim dies and his other half mourns. But I'm not. Tim stops going back to Gotham. He stops trying and focuses on himself. He will never reject his soulmate. He will never make them feel how he had felt all those months or years ago. He will always love them but he stops asking for more. He grows his relationships with his friends and eventually builds something more with Kon. At first, they were both worried. Tim doesn't want his soulmate to go through Hanahaki but he doesn't want to let Kon go. The first few months of their relationship was spent monitoring the health of Tim's soulmate before it's made clear that it doesn't affect them. Tim laughs when he thinks. His soulmates really didn't want him. And so he moves on. He loves them but he will move on. He's done waiting. And slowly the flowers stop growing. Slowly, he stops waking up every few hours to cough up flowers. They didn't notice it at first. They were too preoccupied worrying over the dark spot that has started growing on Kon's skin. They hadn't noticed until they're at the medbay, fussing over Tim's injury from their recent mission and Kon was using his x-ray vision to check for internal injuries. Kon sees his clear lungs, devoid of flowers that tormented his boyfriend for years. Kon was scared of what this means. Has Tim's soulmate accepted him back? Was Tim leaving him now? He was afraid and hurting but he tells Tim what he sees and braces himself for the inevitable. This is how the best relationship in Kon's life ends. But it didn't. Tim didn't want this to end. He was the happiest he has been all these months with Kon. He tells Kon that. He was going to be selfish this time. He had dealt with the flowers for so long, his soulmate could deal with it themselves. He promises himself to Kon. Maybe his soulmate was right, Tim says, the universe did make a mistake making them soulmates because if he was asked to choose a soulmate, he would've chosen Kon. They kiss and they have the best sex in their lives. The next morning, they wake up and sees the dark spot on Kon's skin had become Tim's soulmark. They're soulmates.

Meanwhile, Tim's soulmate wakes up, surrounded by the same flowers Tim used to cough up. And their soulmark gone from their skin

-🦆 (I sincerely hope no one else took this emoji as a sign. That would be awkward. I've only sent one other ask signed with this emoji)

ANON!!!! ANON ANON ANON!!!!!!! THIS WAS SO GOOD!!!! I LOVED EVERY SINGLE WORD!!!! ♥️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥😩😩😩😩😩😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍😍😍😍🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

soulmate and hanaki both carry, in my opinion, some of the best love angst fics in any fandom!!! the unrequited love tropes are so good especially when the person who was hurting ends up happy in the end!!!!!!!!!!!

i love the idea that this wasn't a 'misunderstanding' that tim and bruce/dick/jason/damian knew fully well that tim was their soulmate- not just that but that everyone else knew they were soulmates as well.

that means talia, selina, kory, barbara and everyone who were fucking or dating bruce or dick knew for a fact that tim was the soulmate- and they didn't care. or maybe it's not that they didn't care but that they were told that it was all taken care of. by bruce and dick most likely.

maybe in bruce and dick's mind it makes sense to not reciprocate because....tim is young. he's a child and he can't possibly engage in the kind of relationship they're used to- the kind of relationship where the two go on dates and have sex and are emotionally vulnerable and honest with each other. both bruce and dick go through some pretty heavy stuff and are mentally sometimes not in the best place and so tim, a child, can't provide the kind of support they need even if he tries so hard to be their equal and be their soulmate. even if tim offered they'd still say no because it's not right. tim is so young and shouldn't have to shoulder the burden and horrors of an older soulmate. soulmate age gaps aren't rare- they're quite common. but even if soulmates meet when one is an adult and the other is a child the child won't just get married- they'll stay with their parents until they're an adult. bruce and dick have both probably seen the...bad side of soulmates with age gaps where one soulmate was too young when the 'adult' stuff started. just because someone is meant for you doesn't mean you can't hurt them.

so they think they're protecting tim. by focusing on women their own age (nevermind that sometimes tim cries and wonders if because he's not a girl that they won't look at him, that they've rejected him). in bruce and dick's minds their distance from tim is justified. they can't take tim out to dinner or on dates without it looking creepy. they can't give tim a relationship when he's too physically and mentally underdeveloped. they just can't do it.

but they never tell tim this.

they never tell tim the reason why they won't look at him, why they'll get into relationships, spend the night with, and nearly marry OTHER people. and honestly....it's because they forget. tim is just always...there. he's a comfortable presence in their life. when they go through a bad breakup, when things turn sour, when they're betrayed, when they're left at the alter- tim is there. ready to comfort, offer gentle words, and squeeze their shoulders in a way that makes them feel like everything will be okay. they take him for granted.

they disregard his feelings, when he shows up to breakfast with puffy and redrimmed eyes it doesn't even occur to them that they could be the cause. tim never snaps at them, cries, or yells about how they're choosing other women, other heroes, other people over him.

they don't think about him and maybe that the cruelest part of it all.

they don't think about tim. until he's gone.

when they wake up to flower petals sprinkled over their body and their mark aching like someone has punched a hole through their heart- they panic. the terror and fear that swallows them is unlike anything they've ever felt.

they've lost their soulmate and it feels like they've been ripped in half.

until they call everyone they know, pull up security camera footage and see tim (alive, he's alive and that brings so much relief they could almost cry before the cold realization sets in) and superboy making pancakes and eggs together, laughing and looking disheveled in the way that lets people know they got laid the night before.

hurt radiates through their throat at the sight they can barely talk. disbelief and betrayal sink into them as they watch as superboy strokes at the soulmate mark- their soulmate mark printed right over where his heart is.

both dick and bruce lay a hand over where their marks used to be. there's no scar, no pain, not even an itch. there's no evidence of them ever having a soulmate.

for jason it's complicated. the fact that tim is his soulmate always gets drowned out by the fact that he's the boy bruce replaced him with. the superior model, the one that would obey, that wouldn't disappoint, the one that wasn't dirty, the one that didn't live in a gutter, who didn't have to give handies in an alley just to make a buck. maybe the old jason, the young and innocent one would've been ecstatic and so happy to meet his soulmate. jason had given up on ever finding anyone who wasn't his soulmate because he SAW how that played out. willis and catherine hadn't been soulmates and whenever jason had asked her about the splotchy soulmate mark that didn't seem to really make any sense she always got quiet. jason always swore what he and his soulmate had would be different- that his soulmate wouldn't need to suffer ever so long as jason was with them. sometimes the rage he directs at tim is the pit, other times it's genuine rage and hatred. at some point jason runs out of excuses and just needs to accept that he can't love tim more than he hates him. that he'll always hate tim for what he represents just like he'll always hate the joker for what he is. but...there are time...moments. when jason has a bit of clarity when he's not hurting as much and laughing along with tim at something stupid bruce did. when alfred is bringing them trays of hot, jam filled cookies and warm mugs of honey lemon tea because both of them have sore throats from being stuck wading water in gotham harbor for a drug dumping bust. jason thinks the first person to ever make him genuinely chuckle at something after...everything- is tim. but then bruce fucking dies or gets lost in time and all the pain and the hurt and the fact that he hadn't gotten catharsis or closure or whatever the fuck- and tim is there. like always. and maybe jason should feel bad. his soulmate had been so wary around him but had come around eventually. but in jason's mind it doesn't matter. because the joker is still around, because bruce is gone but then he's not, because so much of the pain that jason endured has gone unanswered. and tim is there and it's easy to hurt him, hate, him, taunt him using private conversations they had as ammo. jason shouldn't be surprised as he is when he wakes up while on a job and finds his bed filled with crabapple blossoms. something in his chest just goes tight. he doesn't move for what feels like hours and when he does his whole arm is shaking and pulling up feeds from gotham then san francisco because jason recalls how tim often crosses the country to be with the titans. and he finds...something that has him clenching his jaw and balling his shaking fists together. tim not being his soulmate should be a good thing. jason hated him too much, was never able to scrub away the resentment of him...but seeing him in another person's arms, seeing that person with HIS soulmark....he wants to cry. the universe has decided jason was no longer worthy of his soulmate the same way it decided he was no longer worthy of life and so took it away from him. jason should be happy but all he wants to do is cry.

damian is young, jealous, and knows nothing about selfless love. when he meets tim too much of his is brainwashed from the league and talia. when he learns tim is his soulmate too much of him is brainwashed by what he was led to believe a soulmate would be. drake doesn't welcome him with open arms, doesn't fawn over damian or forgive any of his faults. drake argues with him and fights back against damian like a cat escaping the hands grabbing them. there is tension and antagonism that runs deep between them. damian doesn't think him attempting to kill drake should be held against him because...because that's just how he is and drake should KNOW that. when he finds his name in a list of targets he cannot hold back the hurt, the pain, or the resentment. the accusations flow out of him like water. it's the worst pain he's ever felt because damian had been TRYING to get better and improve only that drake hadn't been around to see it. for nearly a year drake had abandoned him. not a single call, word, or letter until he'd blown into gotham and demanded they obey like he had any idea about what they'd endured in the city during his absence. he left gotham, he left DAMIAN and he couldn't just walk back in and expect loyalty. a year is a long time for someone like damian. he grew an inch, he got calmer, more merciful. he gained the respect of other fighters in the city, of citizens. but that wasn't enough for his soulmate who still deemed him a "threat". so yes damian is upset and he makes that known. and eventually drake leaves gothan unable to handle the fact that he was wrong about damian. no apology. no letter.

just like last time.

damian is bitter and angry and hurt, bad mouthing drake to anyone and everyone and at first he has their sympathy and ears but they start growing tired of it. red hood mocks him one night, asking if he really expected "perfect little timmy" to ever want to be soulmates with a demented league brat like him.

damian attacks him with his sword and leaves a deep cut in his thigh that has hood cursing. the attack draws the attention of other bats who are furious with him for attacking todd. grayson looks at him with deep disappointment "i thought you'd outgrown this". damian has a bad week. he's grounded and his father schedules an appointment with a therapist for his behavior, utterly unsympathetic when damian said it was drake's fault.

two days before his appointment damain wakes up in a bed of flowers that make his nose itch and no soulmark. damian's scream wakes the entire manor.

his missing soulmark has grayson turning white and sprinting for a phone. father stares at the hives forming on his skin. an allergic reaction from the flowers.

damian is given some medicine and cream and forced to watch as his soulmate is held and stroked by a clone. damian can't stop the angry tears the- the betrayed tears that burn trails down his cheeks like hot lava. damian may not have liked or loved his soulmate the way he knew he was supposed to but...but...but he didn't think he'd do this.

damian cries and no one comforts him or tries to console him.

why would they?

damian had been talking about how much he hated drake, how much the universe had made a mistake, how much drake was not and would never be his soulmate.

well damian got his wish didn't he?

now drake isn't his soulmate.

no one is.

not anymore.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[msfcatlover]

AT LAST! THE ZOMBIE TIMELINE!!!

Huge thanks to @666imgoingtohell, whose suggestions finally gave the creative side of my brain the kick it needed to work out Steph’s timeline! Here’s what I’ve got so far.

(Warnings for all things Joker, implied torture & experimentation, disease, death, suicide, eye trauma, asphyxiation, overdose, isolation, depression, drinking, self-sacrifice… fuck, I am definitely missing a few, but that’s all I can think of for now.)

(…yeah, they all come from dark, depressing futures where everyone they cared about died, but Steph’s is definitely the most fucked up.)

.

The Joker captures both Tim & Damian. Joker thinks it’ll be extra funny if he can make a Robin corrupt themself, so Damian is used as leverage. (Damian hates it, hates every second of it, but especially hates the guilty way Tim glances at Damian before acquiescing to Joker’s orders. Make this, do that, eat this, take a deep breath off this inhaler we all know is horribly poisoned while Joker cackles like it’s the funniest shit he’s ever seen. Every free moment, Tim looks for an escape. Every chance Tim gets, he works in some sort of message or sabotage to whatever he’s made. Even as Tim’s face sets in a permanent smile, even as he becomes increasingly bright & cheerful about following orders, Tim keeps at it. Even as the orders switch to using Dami as a guinea pig—Tim blinks rapidly, cheeks twitching, and says with a sort of happy confusion, “That wasn’t the deal.” Joker says the other option is Robin dies right now. Damian can see the horror in Tim’s eyes when the first needle slides in; Tim’s twisted lips form a silent “sorry” in the moment Joker can’t see it.—even then, Tim keeps antidotes and medical supplies as close as he can, scrambling to fix whatever he’s done in the aftermath.)

(Once, after Tim started to change but before the deal changed to match, Joker had to go fight Batman and left both of them handcuffed to the same pipe overnight. “Robin,” Tim whispered into the dark, “I need you to promise me something.” “What is it?” “Joker’s not curable, everyone knows that. If I become like that—” “No!” “It’s already happening.” Tim giggled. “I can feel it.” “Absolutely not! How dare you, ask me to—” “It doesn’t have to be you. But I need you to make sure.” “No,” Damian says again. It’s a little less forceful, a little more desperate. “I know what happens when I go bad, Dami.” Tim sounded almost giddy, though his words were grim. “That’s without Joker-fication. I—we can’t let that happen, okay?” “Stop being an idiot.” “No.” Tim laughed, but it was quickly muffled, like he was biting down on something to bottle it up. “Contingencies, baby bat! They’re important. If I go bad, I need you to make sure I can never hurt anyone again.” A pause. “We both know locking me up won’t be enough.” “It’s doing an impressive job so far.” Damian yanked his own handcuffs, so they rattled against the pipe. “If something as pathetic as this can hold you, you really think you stand a chance with Arkham?” “Arkham doesn’t have my baby brother in a death collar.” Tim’s voice went soft and distant-dreamy. It was the most serious he’d sounded in a long time. Damian swallowed. “I won’t let you hurt anyone. I promise.” “That’s the spirit!” The giggles were back as quickly as they’d left. It was awful.)

It took 2 months to find them. Damian was rescued, but the Joker just barely escaped, dragging a breathless Tim behind him. Damian had to be sedated, he was fighting so hard to go after them.

.

People started getting sick, seemingly at random. What started as lightheadedness bordering on dizziness turned to giddiness, and things escalated from there. Damian knew about Tim’s little rebellions and told everyone; the micro-doses of Joker venom worked to burn the virus out of their systems, but more victims just kept popping up.

(The fact it was so obviously Tim’s handiwork left the whole family shaken.)

The Bats kept searching for Tim.

.

They found him alone in a lab, Joker’s body laid out on the floor and left to rot. It was obvious Tim had been dipped since they last saw him, his skin bleached by the chemicals that first made the Joker. During the fight, one of the tables got overturned and Tim’s mysterious science setup got smashed.

“It’s out,” Tim whispered, almost reverently, before bursting into laughter. “It’s out! You can’t put it back, I can’t stop it anymore, because you let it out!”

(The fight ends with gas in the air and Steph’s hands around Tim’s throat, a too-wide smile creeping onto her face, before Damian drags her off, snapping at her that she’s not herself, and giving her an extra dose of antidote. Tim scrabbles back to the wall, one hand at his throat. The hoarseness from the choking almost drops Tim’s voice back to its normal register. “You promised. Dami, you promised.” Damian shakes his head. “It’s not too late—” “It is!” The cackle was just a horrible, rasping cough. Tim’s voice takes on a sing-song cadence once he gets his breath back. “Can’t come back from where I’ve gone, can’t fix what I’ve done! Red Robin’s gone, long gone. Make it stop.” The giggle is nearly silent, more of a shudder. “Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop!” Tim’s voice cracks back to laughter, like he’s telling a joke so good he can’t get out the punchline, and tears run down his cheeks.)

(It goes further, but the point is: Steph watches Damian drive a scalpel from the table into Tim’s eye, watches him twist until the twitching stops. Tim’s hands come up on instinct to grab Damian’s in the first moment, but Tim doesn’t fight it; he just holds on. Damian stumbles back and sits down hard on the floor.)

.

When Batman asks what happened, Steph speaks up before Damian can. “He killed himself.” Damian looks at her incredulously, but Steph plows forwards without hesitation. “It looked like he had a moment of lucidity. Tim asked us to kill him—his exact words were ‘make it stop’—” Her voice cracks, but she keeps going. “—and when Robin said we wouldn’t, he…” Steph swallows, and mimes jabbing herself in the eye. “Da— Robin tried to stop him, but Tim was… he was laughing, but he seemed really upset.”

Batman looks at Damian, who’s staring down at his blood-stained gloves (less blood-stained than Tim’s hands, which all but covered Damian’s.) “I promised,” Damian whispers, “that I wouldn’t let him hurt anyone. When we were both prisoners, I promised.” He looks up at Bruce, eyes full of tears. “I was going to break it! But he—”

Bruce places a hand on Damian’s head. “It’s alright, son. It’s not your fault.” (Damian doesn’t say anything else, just bursts into tears in his father’s arms. Steph wonders how long the can maintain the lie.)

(It’ll turn out she shouldn’t have worried; they’ll have much bigger problems soon, and you know what people say about keeping secrets.)

.

Here’s what they don’t realize: the Joker virus couldn’t survive outside of the human body or near-lab conditions. Transmission was near-impossible, and all victims up until this point had either been part of one of Joker’s schemes or subtly injected in crowded spaces; almost nobody caught it from anyone else.

Tim’s new strain (which he had been fighting with himself not to release, getting into a perfectionist loop as a distraction from the urge to just let it loose) as it turns out, is highly contagious. It can survive for a good few hours in open air, and rapidly colonizers any surface it lands on.  Tables. Floors. Clothes. Skin. Hair.

Steph & Damian rode back to the Batcave and underwent thorough decontamination of themselves, their gear, and the car alone. They took their shots just in case of exposure, and played cards while waiting out the hyperactive high a micro-dose of Joker Venom causes. Bruce came back, decontaminated, and sat down to run tests (because otherwise he’ll have to face the fact his son died tonight, and he’s not ready for that. Tim’s not dead until Bruce processes it, and you can’t make him.) 

Bruce did not realize he needed to take the shot too.

.

(Gonna be completely open right now: we are NOT going Batman-Who-Laughs. Mainly because he relies on several of my least favorite interpretations of Bruce’s character to make anything resembling sense, but if you need a different reason… Tim’s strain is much less about re-creating the Joker a million times over, and more about twisting how people emotionally react to the world around them; everything makes the happy-chemicals, and the stronger the emotional reaction ought to be, the higher that rush. While not inherently a degenerative condition, the ever escalating self-destructive behavior this leads to means it might as well be. For example, some of the infected are probably going to seek out fear toxin just to get that high, but just because their happy chemicals are going nuts doesn’t mean the fear isn’t under it, and doesn’t mean they’re safe from heart attacks.)

(It’s just not funny if everyone is telling the same jokes, is it? If everyone has the exact same sense of humor? Wouldn’t that get boring after a while? Obviously. Big J was just too self-absorbed to realize Timmy’s joke was better.)

.

The early symptoms can be easily mistaken for sleep deprivation & too much caffeine. The secondary ones can be chalked up to grief. It takes a little over a week for the infection to become obvious. The incubation period is only a couple of days.

Wayne Manor: compromised.

The Batcave: compromised.

Literally everywhere Bruce went before he realized what was going on: compromised.

(Wayne Enterprises, city hall, the public funeral, the Watchtower: all compromised.)

(Bruce locks himself in quarantine as soon as he realizes, but here is another problem: the micro-doses of Joker Venom are not a vaccine. They burn through the bloodstream like a secondary immune system, wiping out the J-virus specifically, but they do nothing to build up immunity. Re-exposure is always a concern. Bruce is perpetually contaminating everything in the room, and no sooner has the Joker Venom left his system than the infection sets in again. His blood work is never clean for more than a few hours.)

Heroes infected. Allies lost. No matter how hard they try, there’s not enough Joker Venom to go around, but oh, oh do they try.

.

The family falls apart.

Alfred’s heart can’t handle the treatments. 

Babs goes into complete lockdown. 

Damian feels so guilty, he throws himself into helping as many people as he can, taking only the bare minimum of shots so that there’s more for other heroes & civilians; when Damian gets sick, those borderline suicidal tendencies mesh with the J-virus in truly horrifying ways. 

Cass is the one who finds Damian’s body, barely managing to choke out her message to the other Bats as the gasses start to take effect. She manages to drag Damian almost to the window before she just can’t do it anymore, gasping laughter over the coms as her lungs give out, with backup still several minutes away. 

Jason (not yet reintegrated into the family) goes from a not entirely trustworthy, usually distant maybe-ally who would at least reliably back them up in an emergency to a usually hostile, paranoid mess, spiraling even deeper into his own depressive tendencies & terrible coping mechanisms as the virus spread, the shelters fell, and his trauma compounded on itself by the day.

(Once, Steph found a stash of liquor while searching for survivors. She, Jason, Dick, and Cass (who wasn’t dead yet) proceeded to get absolutely plastered that night, each talking about how they’d want to go out and making promises about what they’d do if the others died. It was the closest thing to relaxed any of them got since Tim & Damian first disappeared, and it would be the last they had together ever.)

(Here is why Jason is unrecognizable to Steph: he’s been a hostile loner for as long as she’s known him, pushing others away to protect himself, never abandoning them but never lingering any longer than he had to. He made it very clear he was helping because he “had” to, not because he wanted to, and even when they became closer after the world had fallen apart, Jason was still gruff & distant even at the best of times; even when they got along & liked eachother, the paranoia of never knowing if one of them might actually be sick was a constant wedge keeping them from getting too close. A Jason who doesn’t just occasionally let people stick around but seeks them out, whose insults are more affectionate than razor-edged, who grabs on and says, “This person is one of My People(TM), and anything that wants to mess with them has to do it over my dead body,” is an alien concept to her.)

Dick died evacuating some survivors from a 3rd floor apartment. Purely reflexively, he tried to give them a reassuring smile. Purely reflexively, they shot him in the face. (Steph, on the building just across the street keeping lookout, heard the shot and saw Dick fall. Whether he would’ve survived the gunshot is irrelevant when hitting the pavement practically head-first.)

One rescue mission was almost a clean success. They got the survivors all the way to the escape vehicle before realizing there was a kid still in the building. Jason’s jaw set, and Steph barely had time to scream for him not to go, don’t do this, don’t leave her like this, before he was running back in. (The kid made it out. Jason did not.)

Steph broke every promise she’d made about not giving up, about fighting to the end, about going out in a blaze of glory, after being cornered by a swarm. She chose to go out on her terms, though, refusing to give them the satisfaction of her pain or of her becoming one of them. All Steph’s cures would be unusable by the time help came, either smashed or tampered with by the Joker-zombies, but she had enough for the Joker Venom to do its original job.  She took all of them, and died laughing at her own ultimate failure.

.

.

.

(And then she wakes up.)

#cw: death #iwctw (time travel) #time travel fixit #(Well this is more the extremely broken part but...) #bat fam #bat family #batfamily #batfam #bat siblings #batsiblings #stephanie brown #the spoiler #steph brown #batgirl #robin #robins #tim drake #joker jr #damian wayne #my writing #mine #// #Steph’s flat affect isn’t caused by an oath or anything; it’s a trauma response. Smiling& laughing have /BAD/ associations for her. #Heroically: People didn’t trust smiles anymore. Smiles & laughter were signs of the virus. It scared people. (It got Dick killed.) #Defensively: She learned to be suspicious of smiles & laughter in other people as well. Untrustworthy behaviors are ones we avoid. #Sensorily: Whenever she took too much ‘cure’ too fast. Whenever her viral count got too high. A few times hysteria broke through the grief. #Traumatically: Steph’s brain is fucked okay? #(Negative emotional displays come easier to her but that sort of weakness or hesitation was something to bury in the field.)

[donotalwaysbebatman]

Nightwing #105

This whole issue is really gimmick and there isn't a point to it. I know this idiot thought he was really smart for coming up with a concept that was really weird! And no one does that! Yeah, there's a reason no one does this except in porn. What, were you watching porn and you were like, whoo, someone should do a comic of this. Honestly, a porn comic might've been better, because this one had, again, no point.

Here's the thing, Tom. You are a terrible writer and I only read Nightwing to look at him drawn by a very talented artist. You literally made an issue where it was impossible for me to stare at his ass. And if you had a reason for it, if you were using it as a storytelling element, sure, okay, I like experimental stories. This wasn't that. This was just you thinking you were a supergenius for no reason.

Also. The apartment window thing? This is the most parodied thing in all of not only Batfandom, but all of superhero satire. You can't just have people jump out their own window in costume. Have some fucking opsec. At least have a secret elevator up to the roof or something, god fucking damn.

Then he gets a call from his sister. And I'm like Cass! (Or maybe Steph, because Babs is obv already sleeping over.) But it was not Cass. It was the character I thought had been written out of the story and never needs to be mentioned again. Who literally never needed to exist in the first place and legitimately could be replaced with like three sticky notes with one sentence each on them. Because this asshole hates Cass, and doesn't want to acknowledge her existence. For fuck's sake, Dick, at least ask which sister.

Okay, and then he fucking Mansplains trains to Babs??? Like, oh, Barbara, did you know that, in fact, trains move? And she's like, oh, teehee, I didn't, I can't jump, I'm not a trained vigilante like you Nightwing, I need you to teach me how to do basic tricks!!! I almost died teehee teehee! No. Babs is so much better at timing and trajectories than Dick is. She can literally calculate them in her head while she's moving. She doesn't miss. Also what did it add for her to miss? Other than another chance for Tom to show off how much better he thinks men are than women? I swear to fuck this is the most sexist writer at DC.

Unrelated, why the fuck are all the train seats the same weird hot pink color? Usually they're several different colors or uniform gray. What choices is the colorist making here.

Then we have even more sexism. Hurhur a cheating joke! How funny! Literally what is the point of including that? It's funny that Babs doesn't trust Dick or something? Like what exactly is even supposed to be the underlying humor there, that they don't have a healthy relationship and he constantly makes her feel self-conscious and inadequate? That he threatens her in order to coerce her into doing things he wants? Or else that she's asserting that she has control over his body and is trying to curtail his autonomy? Or is it just supposed to be relatable because like. Of course women constantly test their men! That's just what the female species is like! Only misogynists think like that. No, Tom. Skill issue.

Then this thing about reverse engineering vaccines out of someone's bloodstream because they injected themselves. Which I know is this really common trope but it's so stupid and not at all how vaccines work. What's going to be in someone's blood is antibodies. Vaccines aren't made of antibodies. They're made to mimic the original disease in shape. So it's like this: did they inject her with the vaccine, in which case why the fuck don't they remember she has short hair, or did she just get her hands on it, in which case why didn't she just fucking carry it like a reasonable person.

Anyway then it's like 'oh let's switch bodies' and the lady is like. I don't get it. Where will we get a body double who is also athletic and also has red hair. Well, newsflash, lady, 50% of women in DC have red hair. And 98% of them are in the top 2% of athletes worldwide. So. But literally Babs is sitting directly next to her and how stupid does Tom think women are that she wouldn't get that immediately? Or, worse, how stupid does he think the reader is that they need that explained? (I mean, I guess his fans might need that explained.) I hope it's just included because he thinks his fans want to laugh at how stupid women are that they need obvious things explained, because that's honestly less depressing.

So here's my question, why would changing on a giant empty train be awkward? They can go to a different car if they want to. And there are still bathrooms, even if they don't. Or they can just move behind the seats further away. Plus, they're both women, so it's not really awkward for them to change in front of each other; Dick doesn't need to be changing and can just turn around or close his eyes. (The only funny use of the gimmick possible, which they just skipped.) And Dick has already seen Babs naked lots, so why would either of them care? They're all capes. They change en masse all the time. And also there was a whole third outfit that appeared out of fucking nowhere, so they didn't even have to be naked at the same time or do a naked handoff. (Which wouldn't really be naked, because underwear.)

And, really, where did that uniform come from? Did she strip the conductor naked when she threw them off the train? Or does Tom think that people just keep spare clothes on the train like they live there? They change at home like everyone else does for their job. They're not storing spare uniforms in the train closet and, what, sharing them with each other? That's even more annoying than Babs trying to relationship test him again for no fucking reason, what would that even mean? Like, oh, you think the villain outfit is hot, therefore you're basically cheating on me. What fucking logic.

This story is really boring and has no point and wouldn't have been good anyway, but the gimmick is super annoying all the way through, and in parts just makes it hard to read. Also it includes way more mirrors than would actually come up in telling this story in a normal way, just so the artist was allowed to actually draw Nightwing sometimes. This is just a failed attempt at cool artistic choices.

Here's the other question: why would Dick try to go rescue Babs? She can take care of herself. She can take care of their victims, too. His priority should be getting the vaccine to the people who need it (and, also, how can they pay her if the point is they don't have money to pay for the vaccine?) and then sending her sister after her, later, after they do the rescue. Without her. Because why the fuck are they taking her near where the kidnappers who want to kill her are??? Why didn't they just let her get captured and put a tracker on her then? Why bother with deception if not to buy time to get her out of there? Just because Dick needs to prove he's a man, who women of course always need to rescue them?

Or else he could just let her go off and sell her vaccine or whatever she's doing. Instead of having the most fail emotional dialogue ever written. Completely scrubbed of any personality or purpose. Giving no catharsis to either character or the audience. And also I don't care about her or what she's doing, but her motivations would've been a lot more interesting than the conversation they actually had.

Meanwhile, Babs frees herself, of course she does, that's only reasonable, and then Dick is surprised? Why, is he as much of a misogynist as you, Tom? These kidnappers are clearly super incompetent, you really think a trained vigilante with the element of surprise is not going to get the upper hand? She needs you to rescue her because she has an F on her driver's license? And then what was with the bizarre sex banter. That was unnecessary, especially since Dick apparently doesn't even like sex, according to the line he said.

Now the villain - who the editor explained the situation in full to us, on the assumption no one remembers or gives a fuck, which, good on her - is presented as if he's obviously a bad dude because he's a rich guy. Like those are the markers of why you're supposed to distrust him. Only the thing is Dick is also a rich guy. He grew up rich, and now he's a multibillionaire. And that is actually very important to his story, because, if anyone's paying attention, the entire Batman story is about how a) money or power alone is not enough to fix things without enough popular support, and b) even if everyone around you is terrible you can choose to be good, because people are not predestined based on their fucking genetics or whatever. So just relying on stereotypes is so fucking disrespectful to that entire tradition, a tradition where Dick picks up those lessons from his father and applies them to his own life.

There's also an issue where Tom is confusing sociopaths and sadists. Sociopaths are low empathy people who are often willing to hurt people incidentally to achieve their goals, although it is important to note that many people regardless of empathy are willing to dick people over. They hurt animals as children out of curiosity without regard for the harm, not because they seek the harm specifically; they want to perform dissections and learn biology. Sadists, on the other hand, are extremely high empathy, and have an easy time making friends and getting to know people intimately, and don't have the problem of feeling lonely or misunderstood. They manipulate the people around them intuitively, often without even knowing they're doing it, and slowly become abusive. If they're that type, of course; both sadists and sociopaths are almost always very normative people, just like everyone else, and don't do anything notably out of the ordinary. This is such a common error in fiction and it's boring and annoying. Do better. It just makes him the stupidest villain in all of DC, and that's compared to stuff like Packrat and Killer Moth.

"It was 25 minutes." What does that even mean, Dick? How long do you think it takes to legitimately fire someone once you watch the news? Especially if they weren't legally hired in the first place? And you already know they're lying and not being legitimate, so what are you trying to prove? That they're lying? To whom? This literally wouldn't mean they were lying, and also everyone knows they're lying so what exactly is the point. And then he takes the drugged water!

Don't drink that, Dick! Why would you take supervillain water from a supervillain? Why would you take any food or drink you didn't have to, ever, but especially in costume while dealing with ethically sketchy people you know are totally comfortable with murder? He's definitely got tiny nanites in him that are tracking him or trying to rewrite his brain or something now. Or they put LSD in there so they can fuck with him later.

What's with the defense that she's a thief, too - does Tom think if someone's a thief, you're allowed to kidnap them? Thieves have rights and are still protected, so unless it was a citizen's arrest, in which case they would have to say that and wouldn't be allowed to deal with her personally (and would yell that as a defense anyway, not just be like, it's okay she steals stuff)... why would anyone think that was a defense to taking hostages. What does that mean. Shouldn't that tell Dick that they're supervillains and not just asshole CEOs.

Hoho, Dick made a funny, he almost said a bad word! But he didn't! Because he's a pure specimen of ideal manhood, right. First of all, Mr. Wing is a super cute nickname, second, how is Jason Little Wing if Wing is not their shared surname, and third, at least pick a funny insult if you're going to make that joke. Assclown, maybe? That has genre implications. Or canoe, maybe, because it has clear implications but it's also a funny word, even without the Oh No Words in it. Or just call him Mr. Fucker! We'd get it even censored!

Also this is the stupidest ending. Oh look, they resolved stuff, let us inform you of the resolution. I didn't even care while it was happening, Tom, you don't need to spell out all the things that were implied by the fact that the story ended. Why is it interesting they left? Or took a motorcycle? Why is Babs waiting? Doesn't she have better things to do? I did. But I read this comic anyway.

[whsprings]

WhY am I such a DIPSHIT

#ah yes lets keep doing the thing that you hate doing and are supposed to not be doing bc you have the self control of a puppy #gegagagaaGDaAahahaahhaaaAAHAHHA #hi my name is steph and ive got bug dumbass disease #personal

[fancyfade]

Batfam relationship headcanons my edition

these are written for how each character would perceive their relationship with others, so character A may have a slightly different take on B’s relationship with them than B does on A’s relationship with them

This is also only for my 4 faves + steph maybe i’ll add on more later

Damian’s perspective:

Dick: big brother, can do no wrong

bruce: I love you but damn, if you breathe again its on sight

babs: she shouldn't give me so many orders over comms... who tf does she think she is... (should be noted when i talk about babs its always oracle babs)

tim: loser who dick hangs out with for some reason (also if they ever wind up playing video games together when they each decided it was time to hang out with dick they are super competitive about it due to both suffering from gamer disease)

jason: loser who can't pass 'are you smarter than a fifth grader'

steph: begrudging friendship

cass: a bit too awkward to be THAT close because of their each insane projection issues, but when they hang out its just... understanding vibes and frequently nonverbal

duke: begrudging hanging out/chilling friendship

Barbara’s perspective:

helena: you are projection shaped and thus my enemy. self recognition thru the other (derogatory) (she gets better tho)

bruce: I respect u but do not want to deal w/ ur shit

dick: Friend shaped (works both for dickbabs and platonic). just vibing, pretty competent, independent, work together well

tim: positive associations, protective of him

steph: did not have the same drama the prev batfam members did (bruce tim cass) with her, so she didn't actively exclude her, but also is kind of overprotective/worried at first. they do not think on the same brainwave

cass: baby  (cass hates that!). she wants to help cass but sometimes steamrolls over her and does not respect cass as a person appropriately, but the two of them do grow as cass moves out from being "mentee" to more independent and babs has to articulate what cass means to her and she can articulate her respect for cass. she definitely is protective of cass from bruce, who she is worried about being mean to her (cass)

damian: ???? I simply have bad people skills and he is hard to get along with, why couldn't he be like cass and already be 17 when we met then hed be easier to interact with

Dick’s perspective

bruce: I love u... from afar. u gave me a place ot live u forged a lot of my childhood and how i view myself.... plz don't make me come over until the holidays.... (he also is kind of protective of damian with bruce and if bruce messes up dick is like "smh i never wouldve done that")

tim: little brother. we just vibe. the clown gallery. i will always be there to protect u

damian: little brother 2.0. understanding when he (damian) is hard to understand. respectful of boundaries and very undersatnding he tries to act like he would've wnated bruce to act when he is batman to damians robin

babs: same relationship she has with him. they are chill and competent and can work togehter whether dickbabs or platonically

jason: incredible feelings of guilt over his death + anger at him for trying to kill his 2 younger brothers. I actually think dick would be anti integrating jason into the batfam if it got brought up (even if you discount btfc for jasons character, jason has attacked tim enough i don’t think you can really pretend him attacking tim is OOC)

cass: competent work buddies.

steph: is hard on her at first because the others were, didn't interact enough with her to realize it was for little reason until his time as batman. feels moderately bad about it

Cass’s perspective

bruce: you are simultaneously an unreachable ideal and someone i can beat up... sometimes u make me feel bad... very source of inspiration... later on he gets more human and less unreachable ideal but she still loves and respects him very much

babs: canonically refers to her as likea mother. she feels more stifled by babs's expecations because babs thinks cass will be happier more 'normal' and cass doesn't want to live a normal life... i think after cass goes away for a bit and comesback she and babs have a more equal, less babs feeling like she has to be in charge, relationship and cass appreciates that much better.

damian: projection shaped. that post basically where it was like "he needs to know hes not a bad person for killing people as a kid but i am a bad person for killing someone when i was a kid. these facts can coexist " she does like that he will hang out nonverbal with her sometimes tho

tim: friend but nothing super serious we can hang out and talk but no need to seek him out all the time.

steph: friend but also she does not really respect steph as an equal, creating friction (I imagine this is resolved later on). she simultaneously likes hanging out with her and her connection to peer experiences while thinking she has to protect steph

jean paul: projection shaped buddy. they relate on so much but dc is COWARDS and never let them interact post NML

duke: i hear they are friends in outsiders but sadly have not read outsiders yet 

dick: dude who hangs out with babs occassionally

Steph’s perspective

Bruce: she used to idolize him a lot but now shes like oh :/ hes just some guy :/ and he was kind of a jerk. she does still work with him well and care about him but the memories are tainted

tim: she used to look up to him a lot but the conflict they had makes it harder... when he genuinely apologizes (IIRC in red robin) they move forward and she doesn't look up to him anymore, they're just peers and can be on equal footing. they still care about each other a lot

cass: she used to look up to her a lot (sensing a theme here XD) and still does. she likes hanging out with casss but sometimes she gets frustrated with her, and they did have some friction after steph left and articulated the parts where their relationship was unequal. i also am toying around with the idea of cass being a more active mentor for her in 2009 batgirl era stuff

damian:  "he's baby shaped!" (Damian HATES that). she has a good rapport with damian  because shes understanding and she sometimes does chiller, more kid-friendly things with damian that he cant even admit he would like to do.

babs: she thinks its fun to antagonize babs sometimes, but they are genuinely friends and she appreciates babs mentorship. but also babs needs to let her mess with her sometimes lighten up jeez

#dc comics #batfam #damian wayne #dick grayson #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #fades dc timeline

[haljordangreenjedi]

Headcanons about Steph’s time in college?

Kon, I’ve been sitting on this for at least two months and I apologize.

Headcanons about Steph’s time in college:

Sleep? Dunno her. Caffeine is Stephanie’s best friend, besides Tim and Cass and no, I don’t say that just because I have an iced coffee and a large coke sitting on my desk. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

I dunno whether I decided to accept someone else’s headcanon or if it was actually canon, but Steph is pre-med. Okay, welcome to the land of suffering and anxiety homegirl, you’re going to fit in great.

She absolutely hates physics and complains about how useless of a science it is constantly. Yes, even as a vigilante. Shut up, Tim. It’s a horrible fake science in the context of school, and all we do is a lot of really good guestimating. If you’re actually running the numbers in your head, you’re a huge nerd.

Alfred laminates her notes so that in finals season, the tears roll off. Kidding!! Kind of, but actually!!! Laminated note cards would totally work great for her night job, they’re definitely the florescent color cards, and she has a pocket on her utility belt specifically for them.

She has threatened to drop out over Organic Chemistry multiple times, haven’t we all, but she sticks it out and can’t wait for the day she never has to draw another hexagon or count carbons ever again.

When she’s taking anatomy and physio, she recites muscles and bones as she beats up goons. It’s fun, and Barbara ends up muting her comms for everyone else until she stops. (But Barbara still listens and corrects her if she gets something wrong.)

When she takes Pathophysiology classes she tries to predict how they’re all going to die of various diseases. She went to a league meeting once and did it, and A) got grounded from the WatchTower for an indeterminate amount of time, B) made an assessment that probably at least half of the world’s heroes will suffer from diseases relating to their physical traumas by the time they’re all 60. You know, if they’re ever allowed to age that far. 

She knows the absolute best cheap sushi place near campus. They know her by name.

Same goes for the breakfast places near campus, and they don’t even have to ask for her order. Waffles are life and she needs coffee. The end. 

She hides case files in the folders for all of her grosser classes bc no one goes looking there when they steal her computer.

Steph does her laundry at ridiculously early hours of the morning and it terrifies everyone because WHO DOES THAT? the answer is people who don’t sleep.... and Alfred.

She WILL abandon all responsibilities to attend traditional school events at least ONCE, okay. YOLO. 

Also idk how she would manage it, but she’s definitely a TA and a Tour Guide/Orientation Leader. Okay? gotta get that Mo-nay, even if she gets into arguments with Bruce and Tim about them helping her out financially every other week. Also it’s just so boring for her to be stationary, that’s lame. Might as well learn some useless facts about school, get money, and intimidate some lil green faced freshies while she’s at it.

That’s all I got for now, I’m so sorry this took a million years lol.

#tag: stephanie brown is amazing #steph brown #stephanie brown #spoiler #batgirl #robin #tag: katie answers things.... sometimes

[jaggedlittleteacup]

The Fics I’ve Written

(I borrowed a bit of @inevitably-johnlocked’s tagging system for this- I hope you don’t mind, Steph!)

༺═──────────────═༻

Note: The list goes from oldest to newest, so my older fics aren’t great and aren’t Johnlock. There will be a clear divide in when they become Johnlock again.

Not Johnlock/Read at Own Risk

Prior Engagements

(M, 2,084 w., 1 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Angst, Semi-Canonical Character Death, Warstan-ish)

Summary: What if Sherlock had never died? What if he never jumped off of the roof of St. Barts Hospital and instead successfully defeated Moriarty? What effect would it have on John and Mary?

He Fell

(M, 1,427 w., 1 Ch. || Post-Reichenbach, Angst, Sherlolly, Pining Molly Hooper, Bathing/Washing, POV Molly Hooper)

Summary: The aftermath of Reichenbach from Molly’s perspective.

Poison

(E, 5,933 w., 6 Ch., WIP || Graphic Depictions of Violence, Slight Non-Con, Canon Divergence, Angst, No Reichenbach, Abusive Tendencies, Blackmail, Sheriarty, Angst with an Unhappy Ending)

Summary: Sherlock is kidnapped by Moriarty, and must face a tireless onslaught of abuse as he attempts to break free. (WIP/Sort of abandoned.)

Not Until It’s Gone

(M, 4,109 w., 5 Ch., WIP || Fluff, Warnings Don’t Apply Because It’s Abandoned, Straight John Watson, Sheriarty)

Summary: Sherlock Holmes and Jim Moriarty have what one might call a complicated relationship. Chips, bombs, and poolside chats are their ideas of 'romantic'. They're basically each other's addiction. Unfortunately, addictions are almost always bad for you... (Abandoned.)

Johnlock/Better Written

A Bug in Baker Street

(T, 1,525 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Poor Mycroft, Naughty Misunderstandings, IKEA Furniture, Mycroft’s Meddling is Detrimental as Usual)

Summary: Mycroft bugged Baker Street. Sherlock and John are there alone…Well, what did he expect?

The Wedding

(T, 2,474 w., 1 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Angst, Drug Abuse, Ambiguous Ending, Minor Warstan, Sherlock-Focused, Mrs. Hudson Cares a Lot)

Summary: Sherlock Holmes can't bear to see John get married. Unfortunately, he's powerless to stop it.

The Fall

(M, 2,214 w., 2 Ch. || Angst, Deathfic, Pining John Watson, Requited Love, Happy Ending Because I Was Threatened, Canon Divergence)

Summary: John is finally ready to go meet Sherlock. (Edit- Now has a second chapter because my friends hated me for the original ending.)

Three Acts

(M, 5,799 w., 5 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Angst, Minor Warstan, Series Three Fix-It, Post-Reichenbach, POV Sherlock Holmes, Canonical Character Death, No Rosie)

Summary: Mary is not who she seems. (Series three fix-it/Alternate ending)

The Blue Scarf

(M, 734 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Ambiguous Ending, Mourning John Watson, Post-Reichenbach, Character Death)

Summary: John Watson, immediately post-Reichenbach.

I’m Right Here

(T, 3,027 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, John Watson/OFC, Humour, Sherlock is Bad at Feelings, John Goes on Dates)

Summary: So, John keeps going on dates, even though Sherlock is. Right. Here. What’s he doing wrong? And why does John always end up back at Baker Street?

My Heart Beats For You

(M, 1,212 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Unrequited Love, Unhappy Ending, One-Sided Johnlock, Canon Divergence, TLD Rewrite, Hanahaki Disease, Major Character Death)

Summary: Things go very, very badly when John makes a horrible mistake. (The Lying Detective canon divergence.)

Illusion of Choice

(T, 1,553 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Canonical Character Death, Canon Divergence, Unhappy Ending, Deathfic, Unrequited Johnlock)

Summary: Yet another Canon Divergence from Reichenbach. This time, Sherlock does something very, very unexpected.

Miscellaneous/Current Projects

Just a Magic Trick

(M, 1,004 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, TRF Rewrite, One-Sided Sheriarty, POV Jim Moriarty)

Summary: Jim Moriarty didn’t really mean for Sherlock to die. He didn’t want this. Any of this. But it’s too late, now. Can’t he just understand that it was a game? It was just a game. Dinner, Mr. Holmes?

(M, 21,275 w., 6/11 Ch., WIP || Angst, Canon Divergence, Hannibal Fusion, Happy Ending, Slowburn Johnlock, Cannibalism)

Summary: Sherlock races to solve a string of violent, targeted, and cannibalistic murders before his loved ones are next. It’s a good thing Dr. Hannibal Lecter is there to help him solve the case. Right? (WIP.) S. Moran Interview Transcripts

(M, 1,675 w., 2 Ch. || Angst, Implied MorMor, POV Sebastian Moran, Post-Reichenbach, Canon Compliant, Mycroft Makes Mistakes, Audio Transcript Format)

Summary: Error. The recording of [redacted] you are looking for does not exist.

One Word

(T, 1,423 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Sherlock Does It All For John, Ambiguous Ending, Canon Divergence, TRF Rewrite, POV Jim Moriarty, Implied/Referenced Suicide)

Summary: What if one word was all it took to change the canon course of The Reichenbach Fall forever?

#jalexandria #writing #writing angst to make people suffer #sherlock #sherlock holmes #bbc #john watson #johnlock #bbc sherlock #johnlock fic recs #my fics #signal boost #I mean really #I’m desperate #i hope I did this right #Reichenbach

[emluvsevermore]

Him (40’s stucky)

{ rb is great, but do not repost somewhere else without credit to me. do not steal my work }

originally posted on Wattpad. you can find my whole collection of stucky one-shots there. username is @/thatenbywitch107

wc: 1,437

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'll be back," Bucky said, ruffling Steve's hair. "Don't worry."

"Bucky, it's war. I have a right to worry."

The newly drafted soldier tried to fake a smile, but his boyfriend saw right through it. Luckily, he had the perfect thing to cheer him up.

Steve pulled a small metal object out of his pocket. He held it out to Bucky, who took it.

"What's this?" he said, inspecting it. It was a seemingly blank dog tag, save for three symbols pressed into the metal: S + B.

"Do you like it? I figured a picture of me would be too risky, and this way, you can make up any girls name that starts with S—,"

He was cut off by Bucky crushing him in a hug. Steve tried to hold the tears back but gave up when he heard Bucky sniffling. They held each other as they broke down. Bucky pressed his nose into Steve's hair, eyes squeezed shut. He hated crying, but it was an almost inevitable action. In a few minutes, he would be leaving the best part of his life behind to fend for himself in a city full of danger and disease. Meanwhile, he would be off fighting in a war that he didn't actually want to fight, with a slim chance of returning.

"Bucky... you need to go."

He shook his head profusely. "No..."

"Buck," Steve's voice cracked. "I'll be okay."

The brunette shook with emotion, but slowly pulled out of the embrace. He tucked the tag into his front pocket before turning back to Steve. He held his face in his hands. The couple shared a kiss mixed with salty tears.

Bucky pulled away only slightly, so that their lips still brushed when he spoke. "I love you, Stevie."

"I love you, too, Bucky."

///

He tucked behind a tree. Knowing his chances of survival were close to none, Bucky pulled out the dog tags that were tucked beneath his uniform. He ran his fingers over the extra tag on the chain, feeling the gentle bumps of the 'S + B'.

A bullet flew by, mere inches from Bucky's ear. He aimed his gun, but another soldier in his unit put a hand on his arm and shook his head.

"It's not worth it, Barnes. We're surrounded."

Hesitantly, Bucky lowered his gun to the ground. He held up his hands in surrender, as did the remaining soldiers of the 107th.

///

He was tossed into a dark, muddy cell with several of his comrades.

"We'll get out of here, men. Don't worry," Bucky said, trying his best to be a leader. He clutched the dog tags in his hand.

Yet months went by, and one by one, the men were dragged off. They never returned. Bucky spent his time reading and re-reading the words and numbers on his tags, spending extra time on the one from Steve.

This went on until one day, a German soldier approached the cell. He looked around until he landed on Bucky. He pointed. "You. Up."

///

When Bucky awoke, he was cold and in pain. He tried to sit up, but a strap over his chest and arms pinned him down.

Looking around him, he found that he was in a lab room of some sort. It was dark, so he couldn't make out much, but he seemed to be alone. That didn't last long.

A door clanged open, and three men walked in. Bucky didn't recognize any of them. They spoke amongst each other in German, before one walked up to the table that Bucky laid on. He was a rather short, middle-aged man, with round glasses.

"Trial number 310," he spoke in a thick accent, reading off of a clipboard. "James Buchanan Barnes, 26. Good history of health. Let's hope this one works."

He squinted when a bright lamp above the table was switched on. Before he could realize what was happening, a needle was pressed into his foremen. Within two minutes, he was passed out.

Apparently, "this one" did work, because Bucky remained on that table for another two weeks. At various points in the day, he was poked, prodded, and injected. They didn't always put him under for the tests. When those times came, Bucky forced himself to remember, despite the hunger and pain eating away at him. He ran through what he had memorized; his ID numbers, his full name, his station. Most importantly, he remembered Steve.

Steven Grant Rogers. 25, born and raised in Brooklyn. The best damn artist I've ever known. My boyfriend.

Steven Rogers. Brooklyn. Artist. Boyfriend.

Steve. Artist. Boyfriend.

Steve. Boyfriend.

Steve.

Steve?

///

He mumbled the codes. He had long since forgotten what they meant, but he knew they were important.

S. That one letter rang out in his mind, but he didn't know why.

The metal door swung open once again.

No. No, not again, he thought. One more round and I'll forget him completely. S- Steph? Sam?

But his confusion shifted when he saw the man that approached the table this time. He was different, but familiar.

That's not him, is it? No, it can't be—

"Bucky?"

Oh, shit, it's him.

"S- Steve? Steve."

The blond undid the straps and helped Bucky off the table. He took in his boyfriend, although he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

Steve spoke first. "I thought you were dead."

"I thought you were smaller."

The world was at war around them, but the reunited couple stood there, smiling like twitterpated idiots.

"Steve," Bucky cried as he collapsed into his boyfriend's impressive biceps. What the hell happened to the skinny kid he had left behind?

"I've got you, Buck. I'm here." Steve pressed a kiss to Bucky's forehead. "Can you walk?"

"Um—,"

Steve scooped him up anyways. "We need to go."

He ran out of the room with his exhausted boyfriend in his arms. Bucky rested his head against Steve's chest.

"I missed you, Stevie."

Steve glanced down, his expression warm and full of emotion. "I missed you, too, Bucky."

He kissed his forehead once more before continuing at full speed out of the building, and back into the battle.

///

*One week later*

Side by side, they walked into the base. There was applause was the other soldiers realized what was going on.

Agent Carter and Colonel Phillips approached them. As Steve filled them in, Bucky glanced around. Something about the cheering bothered Bucky. None of these men gave a damn about Steve before he got all big and strong. And then all of the sudden, he was a celebrity.

"Hey!" he yelled. "Let's hear it for Captain America!"

And there it was, even louder this time. This support was for Captain America, not Steve Rogers.

Bucky stepped forward so that he was right next to Steve. He took his hand, causing Steve to turn his attention back to him. They shared an affectionate smile.

///

Later that day, Steve and Bucky were alone in a private cabin. Steve had explained their relationship to Peggy and she had sorted it all out.

They sat on the couch in their favorite cuddling position, with one straddling the other, arms wrapped around each other. Except this time, their usual roles were swapped. For one, Bucky was now smaller than Steve, so it made more sense. Two, Bucky needed a little extra comfort. It had only been a week since he got out of the torturous room.

So, Bucky sat on Steve's lap with his face nestled in his neck. They were both exhausted, so Bucky simply placed slow, lazy kisses on Steve's soft skin. In return, Steve traced his fingers up and down Bucky's back.

"How are you feeling, doll?" Steve asked.

"Like I just came back from hell." They were quiet for a moment. "Steve?"

"Mhm?"

"I just want you to know, that you're the most important person in my life. I don't think I would've survived back there if I didn't have thoughts of you keeping me alive. You're a hero to the whole country now. I don't know exactly what this means for us, but I do know that... that even before, when you were skinny little Steve... you were my hero. I don't think I tell you often enough how much I appreciate you."

Steve hugged Bucky even tighter. "I won't let anything happen to you again, or to us. I'm with you till the end of the line."

#bucky barnes #bucky #sebastian stan #steve rogers #stucky #winters children #emerie’s unhealthy obsessions #emeriewritessometimes #steve x bucky #pre serum steve #steve and bucky #steven grant rogers #james buchanan barnes #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #stucky oneshot #stucky fanfic

[writer-room]

Siblings: Chapter Five

AO3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

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

Siblings hadn’t even crossed Cass’s mind until she’d fled the League of Assassins.

She had no reason to think of them, they were never brought up. That’s just how it was. She was always too busy training to ever think about questions or focus on different matters.

It wasn’t until she left, leaning against a dumpster at the ripe old age of ten, did the thought finally pop into her head.

She hadn’t been the only kid in that alley, a notable few others cowering by themselves. Many of the kids she’d met among her travels, homeless and scared like her, had a sort of unspoken rule. Helping those when needed, then parting without a word.

So she had been curious about three kids sticking together. They’d been very similar in appearance, and it didn’t take long for her to deduce that they were related. Three brothers. The eldest a few years older than her, the middle one or two younger, and the youngest couldn’t be more than seven. 

They had always been seen together, and she’d spent the time waiting out the night by that dumpster studying them.

They had been kind, pressing together for warmth and protection, keeping the youngest in between them. They were all different, and she found that the few other siblings she’d run across shared traits. If one sibling was brash, the other was sweet. If one was quiet, the other was loud. If one was a fighter, the other was a talker.

She never learned their names, never gave anything more than a nod to them as she passed them by.

Their situation was awful, but they had each other. They had someone to keep them company, to protect and be protected. A family who cared about them.

She envied them.

“Alright, sound off, who’s still conscious?”

A round of groans answered Bruce’s inquiry.

Each and every one of the Bats, save for Cullen and Barbara of course, were strewn out among the alley and roof of one of Gotham’s more worn-down buildings. It was a little comical, seeing the vigilantes of Gotham looking like jelly.

Jason and Harper were slumped on a second-floor balcony, hanging off the railing. Dick, Tim and Duke were strewn about on the pavement inside the alley, the only one who appeared to be in a moderately comfortable position was Duke, who was laying on his back and staring up at the sky. Steph was laying across the roof, her head and arms hanging over limply. Damian was flopped on top of what looked similar to a discarded arbor, cape draped across his face.

Cass, meanwhile, was perching on one of the windowsills, eyes flicking between each sibling. Bruce was on the roof next to Steph, frowning. Though, he always looked like he was frowning when on patrol.

“I take it that means nobody requires immediate medical attention?” Bruce tried weakly.

“I’m never doing that again,” Duke complained. “I can’t believe I let you guys talk me into trying a night patrol. Ivy is so much nicer in the daytime, what the hell.”

“Welcome to the night life,” Jason grumbled, raising his head slightly. “Blame Dick for the family bonding.”

“Shut up,” Dick groaned, muffled due to his face pressed sideways against the ground.

“You deserve this,” Barbara crackled over the comms.

“Everybody is fine, then?” Bruce asked again. “Nobody got infected with anything? Seeds planted in skin?”

“Ivy can plant seeds into skin?” Duke yelped, sitting bolt upright.

“She only did that, like, twice.” Steph assured, waving a hand without even moving her head. “I’m free of the kissing disease, though.”

“Same,” Harper raised a hand.

Choruses of similar affirmatives rose up among the others, save for Tim, who hadn’t moved from his spot. Duke, who was closest to him, noticed.

“Tim?” He asked. “You alright?”

Heads shot up, like the exhaustion from earlier never existed. Cass had sprung off her windowsill and landed next to Tim before Duke was even scrambling over.

She peered over Tim for a moment, poking his side and lifting his head up. He looked peaceful. Not still enough to be someone who was knocked unconscious. No heavy bleeding, either.

“Asleep,” She informed, setting his head back on the ground. 

Everyone immediately relaxed, slumping back to their original positions.

“Of course he’s asleep,” Damian muttered from beneath his cape. “He can never let himself rest at reasonable times now, can he?”

“None of you have reasonable sleeping schedules,” Barbara pointed out.

“I’ve got him,” Bruce sighed, sliding down off the roof and landing next to Tim. Cass stepped aside as he scooped up the teen, keeping a firm hold on him like he’d slip between his fingers. “Everyone get up, we’re heading back.”

Pained groans answered him a second time.

“You guys can head back,” Jason said, gripping the railing and forcing himself to stand upright. “I, however, have a wonderful safe house waiting for me.”

“Weakling,” Harper muttered, getting a sharp jab from Jason in response.

Bruce frowned slightly, in such a subtle movement that only those who’d been stuck with his brooding for years would notice it. Cass noticed, or rather, noticed how his stance shifted ever so slightly. She couldn’t quite remember the word for it...longing restraint? Something like that, she’d need to ask Dick later, he was better with words.

Cass slipped away from Bruce, springing onto the windowsills and landing on the thin railing of the balcony with only a minor falter. Jason jumped a bit when she landed, to which she grinned underneath her mask.

“Big brother,” She said, crouched on the railing. “Go home?”

Jason watched her for a moment, and she could tell he was glaring at her from under his helmet. Resisting, she thinks that's the word.

“Don’t do this to me.” Jason near-begged, voice wavering slightly. Fighting Cass on anything, physical or not, was a losing battle. They knew this, and they knew that she knew it, too.

“Big brother,” Cass said in a singsong tone, laying her head on the railing right in front of Jason. She could see Harper not even bothering to hide her malicious smile.

“Cass, please,”

“Names,” Damian muffled.

“Alfred make cookies,” Cass continued, poking at Jason. “I help steal?”

That was untrue, you never stole things from Alfred. Either he let you have them or you never found it. Even still, Jason was never one to turn down the opportunity for petty crimes.

“C’mon, Jay,” Harper added, still grinning. “You really want to disappoint your sister?”

“Names,” Damian reminded again.

“...I hate this family.” Jason groaned, hanging his head over the railing as Cass scooted back, snickering.

“And we got Hood on board!” Steph gave a weak cheer.

Cass turned her head back to the alleyway below, smiling proudly. Bruce’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head. Relief, she thinks. She pretended not to notice him sending her a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it expression of gratitude.

“Grab whoever has trouble walking, we’re taking the roofs.” Bruce informed, slinging Tim over his shoulder as he began scaling the building again. “Orphan, you're on herding duty. Don’t let anyone fall behind.”

Cass saluted cheerfully, leaping off the railing and onto a third-floor balcony, then onto the flat roof. She perched on the edge of the roof, eyes flickering over her siblings as they complained and pulled themselves upright.

It was during times like this, when they still felt the need to double-check with each other as they went back on the move, that she watched the clan, watched the roles they held for each other.

Duke offered a hand to Dick, who fumbled for a moment before taking it and getting hoisted to his feet. He swayed for a moment before reassuring Duke he was fine, striding towards where Damian had collapsed and grabbing him by the cape, dragging it off his annoyed face as he was lifted like a cat. Steph rolled to the side as Bruce clambered onto the roof. She attempted to stand on shaky legs, to which Bruce held out an arm for her to steady herself on. Harper and Jason were already climbing onto the roof, Harper pausing every few moments to glance back at Jason and tug him up faster.

Dick was attempting to carry Damian up the roof, but the kid protested loudly to that and instead scampered up himself. Duke frowned but climbed up after them, occasionally getting pulled up by Dick, who was looking up every few seconds to make sure Damian wouldn’t fall off.

Cass wasn’t quite sure where she fit, in all of that. In the lending of helping hands, of receiving the outstretched hands, or in pretending she didn’t need either.

Granted, nobody really fit, she relented as the siblings gathered into a huddled group on the roof a few meters away. Steph was a melting pot, Barbara and the Row’s didn’t technically live anywhere near the family, and Jason couldn’t decide if he’d gun down Scarecrow for them or abandon everyone in the middle of the night.

Bruce was hard to categorize, too. Cass had seen parents on the streets, holding their young child close with wary, tired eyes. Bruce had that, too. Weary beyond belief with a caution to anything getting too close. But he was far from beaten down yet, and there were never days when his kids couldn’t take care of themselves without him. She figured his odd placement was likely a mix of having so many confusing and different children on top of not understanding how emotions worked.

But Cass wasn’t sure where she’d be. She wasn’t as overprotective as someone like Jason or Barbara, so she placed herself closer to whatever side Steph, Duke, Tim or the Row’s were on. But she didn’t talk all that often, and her plans consisted of walking in and expecting it to work out or continuously pestering until her victim gave in. Duke and the Row’s valued logic, and Steph was chatty as ever, Tim was a strange mesh between them. She was certainly more cheerful than others in her family, but Dick and Duke were better at keeping the morale high than she was. And the only times she’s ever really upset is when the others are upset, so there hasn’t ever really been a situation where they got defensive on her behalf exclusively. That crossed out her being anywhere near Damian’s side.

“Orphan? You still with us?”

Cass jerked, blinking as she shook her head to clear it. The others were clustered a bit further than where they had been before, in the process of leaving before they noticed Cass wasn’t following. And she had been staring the whole time.

Cass gave a quick thumbs up, getting out of her crouched position, muscles protesting for a brief moment due to not moving in the slightest for the last few minutes. She popped up next to her family, reassuring them once more with a small nod that she was alright.

Steph bumped her shoulder as the others began to move across the roofs, tilting her head ever so slightly in her subtlest possible way of asking you okay?

‘Fine,’ Cass signed with her hands, bumping her back. ‘Just thinking.’

Steph nodded, having all the information she needed before turning back to hurry in a jog alongside the rest of the Bats.

“Last one to the Manor doesn’t get any of the cookies me and Cass are stealing!” Jason hollered over his shoulder, off like a shot before he even finished his sentence.

“Names!”

Nobody paid attention to Damian as they all cried their protests. Cass laughed and darted after Jason, keeping stride with him as the others picked up speed. Aside from Bruce, who only shook his head and continued along at his regular run, trying not to jostle Tim. Damian tried to act as civil as his father, scoffing at the others trying to sabotage each other to be the first to arrive back. But he gave up after Tim jolted, barely awake as he blinked his eyes and mumbled something about saving some for him. Damian was off like a shot, yelling something about how Tim would get no such thing. Despite the fact Tim was still far too exhausted to do anything more than weakly complain.

Cass sprung onto one of the lamp posts by the road, crouching as the others raced on by, moving with grace for only a moment before they or someone else body slammed into another to try and gain some distance. 

She supposed it didn’t matter much which category she was in. Depending on who was deciding it, she could be on any of their sides. Or maybe none at all. She had her own side, she supposed.

She stifled a laugh as she saw Jason kick over Duke before immediately having Dick pounced on his back in retribution.

They were her siblings, she decided. They were old and young, and they were family, and that was all she really needed to know.

#dc #dc comics #cassandra cain #dcu #jason todd #damian wayne #dick grayson #duke thomas #stephanie brown #harper row #barbara gordon #bruce wayne #tim drake #orphan #red hood #robin #nightwing #signal #spoiler #bluebird #oracle #batman #red robin #siblings #my writing #fic #writing #sibling bonding #hero work #league of assassins mention

[miss-choco-chips]

Love like poison

Soo... I did that, huh. I have no excuses, I was sad, so now you’re all sad with me.

Warnings: angst. Hurt. Hospitals. Puking. Blood. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He can’t breath.

He had always been scarily good at deception, Dick thinks blandly. His heart is screaming, and crying, and being torned apart, but his mind is strangely steady. A calm voice, sounding all too much like Bruce when he just became his ward and was hounded by panic attack after panic attack, reminded him of his- their options. 

But it was hard, to listen to that part of himself. Hard to remember they still had time, Tim wasn’t dead yet, they still could…

Tim coughed again, and a waterfall of belladonnas, nightshades and clematis spilled into the ground.

(Danger, artifice and death. Whoever it was Tim loved, they couldn’t be worth this pain, if those were the flowers they filled him with)

Fully bloomed and bloodstained. This wasn’t a new disease; it had been left to fester inside the young man for too long, and now…

Now Tim couldn't breath.

Everything else took a backseat as he rushed towards him, falling into his knees by his side in the Cave’s cold floor, screaming for Alfred, Bruce… for help. 

-.-.-.-.-.-

He had been forced into bed rest. No one would budge, no matter how much he complained.

Then-

-I’ve been going out with Hanahaki for as long as I’ve been a vigilante; this is nothing.

Alfred had to leave the room. Bruce’s face had spasmed and closed, emotions tightly locked inside. Jason punched a hole through the wall and stormed off after the butler.

Damian had clutched Dick’s hand as he watched his intubated brother. It’d be forever their secret, how the youngest boy’s hands had trembled.

Tim just coughed again, and fell asleep clutching a bouquet of foxgloves and dogbane. Tucked in by insincerity and deception.

Dick could only cry the night away.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-I refuse.

Those two words stop the word in its axis. Hearts refuse to beat, birds quieten their singing, and it seems the wind itself stops howling, breath held in wait of the punchline. Of the explanation. Of the apology.

Tim offers none. Just looks outside the window and repeats his decision once the doctor enters to check the reason for Jason’s yelling.

Their begs go ignored. Their anger, scoffed at. Their cries produce little more than a sigh.

Tim  asks the nurse for a bucket and pukes a river of deathly flowers, seams and all. She pats his back in comfort and looks at them with pity in her eyes, because Tim is no longer a minor, they can’t force his hand, and the staff are under oath to respect the patient's wishes.

Hyacinths. Please forgive me.

I can’t forgive a corpse, he wants to say. He can’t- it wouldn’t be heard over Jason’s screams, or his own sobs. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Tim signs the documents Lucius hands him with trembling hands. Dick has to steady him and hold his body upright, and press a handkerchief to his pale lips when he can’t keep the coughs inside any longer and spills fully bloomed oleander on the fabric. He’s careful that no drop of blood falls in the papers.

Distrust. He’s worried about the future of Wayne Enterprises, now that he’d no longer be at the helm.

Dick wants to shake him, shake him until he coughs out all the flowers, all the love, all the death. Until his lungs are free and his head is set straight. Until his cheeks flush again, his eyes get their shine back, and he’s warm and living once more. 

Wants to shake him as if he could spit his little brother out, along with the plants and blood. The little brother he basically raised, protected, mentored, loved. The one he’s about to lose.

He doesn’t. Wonders when, exactly, did he stop fighting for him.

And when did Tim stop fighting for himself?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Cass and Steph had arrived two weeks after Tim’s hospitalization. They'd been deep undercover, and Bruce’s emergency call hadn’t reached them until just then.

When they stormed into Tim’s private rooms, the Wayne family felt a shadow of hope blossoming in their hearts. Was it Steph? They had been together a while ago, maybe Tim’s feelings had remained and he thought hers were gone. Maybe they weren’t, and they could…

Tim’s face didn’t turn wistful, but guilty.

Cass’s hand took his, and Stephanie’s fingers combed his hair away from his forehead. She retrieved a petal from within the locks; hydrangea. Thank you for understanding.

They knew?

The betrayal stung, but Dick forced himself into calmness before analyzing them better. Cass was the one who looked regretful but resigned. Stephanie, while carefully silent, was still despairing enough that he knew this was news for her as well. Maybe her partner had put her up to speed during their trip here?

And his sister… Tim had backed her up from the beginning, when both he and Batman distrusted her past. He had stood up for her and she had always been careful to repay him in kind. There was no point in getting mad at her now.

Dick just hoped their bond would be enough for her to convince him to take the damned operation now.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Conner Kent arrives one afternoon, grim faced but unsurprised. Dick suspects he’s known for a long time now, and hates him a little for not telling them. Not doing anything before Tim started choking on dangerously full bloomed plants.

Bruce must have been beyond himself with helplessness, if he called him. Dick’s own despair is the only reason he doesn’t punch him in his invulnerable jaw.

They left the room (some of them for the first time in days) when Conner asks, because they are just that desperate.

Tim and Conner talk around the issue, never saying any name, because they aren’t dumb enough to ignore the possibility of microphones and cameras.

They speak for hours. Kon reminds him of the time he has left (not a lot, dude). Tim replies he’s not ready (for what?). He pukes a beautiful, complete wisteria (I cling to thee). Conner takes it with shaking hands and puts it behind Tim’s ear, the purple contrasting with his dark hair and almost bringing life back to his deathly pale face. He nods, says he understands. Dick doesn’t.

The meta says they all miss him, at the tower. They want him back as soon as possible (they are not the only ones), so he better hurry up and get better. Tim pats his hand, whispers something they can’t hear, and then they hug for long minutes, maybe an hour (Dick’s perception of time is meassured by coughs and breaths, these days), until Tim chokes on air and pukes sweetpeas (Departure, remember me, good-bye, tender memory, thank you for a lovely time).

Conner cries a little when he leaves the room. Tim is again looking at his window. All signs of the happiness his friend brought with him, gone again, washed away like his petals on the wind.

Dick goes after him and wants to scream and insult and hit him.

‘Talk  him out of this!’

‘He needs the surgery!’

‘What are you good for, if you don’t convince him to fight for himself?’

‘Your best friend is dying and you’re doing nothing!’

‘Do you even love him? At all?!’

He ends up falling into his chest and crying, instead.

‘My little brother is dying, and I can’t do anything about it’

Conner doesn’t hug him back. Doesn’t even look at him when he dislodges Dick’s arms from his middle and turns away, leaving the hospital and any hope the Wayne family had of saving Tim behind.

There was scorn in his gaze, but he doesn’t need the meta to voice his thoughts, for him to get the message. Unneeded, besides; he already blames himself enough.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

-What are you doing?

For a few minutes, Dick thinks the words escape his own mouth. The question had been bouncing around in his head, but unvoiced; doubting Tim would even answer. He only ever spoke when Alfred or one of his friends came.

But no, it was Damian who asked, and Dick saw the bedridden boy parting his dry, bloodstained lips to answer.

-Thinking. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Jason sitting straight in the couch he had claimed for himself a a few day prior. The four of them were alone at the time, and Dick felt a weak throb of hope at the idea that maybe without their Father, Tim would be willing to answer.

-About what? -asked Jay this time, voice rough for all the shouting he’d been doing lately. He was more mellow, today; tired of fighting against Tim’s imperturbable facade.

-About who. The one who planted these seeds in my lungs. Just… reminescenting.

-What the... ? Stop! -Dick’s voice broke- You know it makes the Hanahaki worse! You are just watering those, those… weeds! You are not even ignoring the precipice, you are speeding towards it!

Tim’s face never turned from the window. His hands fiddled with some nerium oleander flowers, a far away look in his eyes.

Distrust. Beware. Caution. What was Tim scared of, that was worse than death?

-I’m almost done, anyway -he sighed, letting the violet and bloody red petals fall to the bed. The white sheets and colorful flower made a sick disparity. 

Dick wanted to scream- What? Your life?

Jason and Damian flinched at his words. Tim smiled without humor.

-My resistance.

He sighed again, and didn’t speak for a long while. His eyes left the window to look at Dick, and they stayed like that for what seemed like hours, eyes locked, Tim’s unreadable icy blues against Dick’s sky ones.

When he finally did, it was to ask for a doctor.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

They were kicked out of the room. All of them, even Bruce. No matter how much money he offered, or how he reminded the hospital staff of their debt to his family; apparently, Tim had chosen the most morally upright doctors in the whole city to treat him. That, or he’d threaten them worse than even the Batman could. 

Both are equally plausible, coming from his scheming, cunning little brother.

Dick can’t breath, is holding all his air and emotions tight in his chest from the moment they are given the boot until a nurse approaches, face a blank mask but eyes betraying her relief.

Tim had agreed to the surgery.

He would live.

Dick is more focused on the colchicum she’s twisting in her hands.

My best days fled.

For a moment, he’s not sure who was the intended recipient of the message. Nor why his throat hurts so bad.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

There was going to be a long recovery time, they are told. Tim’s flowers were left free to fester and grow and twist inside of him for too long. A lot of tissue had to be removed along with the roots, the stems had scratched along his esophagus and…

And there was something else. Something the doctor refrained from telling them. Something that turned Tim’s smile empty when they visited him after the procedure, lying still in the too big bed. Had made his voice devoid of any feeling as he told them he’d be having his rehabilitation in San Francisco’s General Hospital. He had a house there, he informed them, and his own company, that he apparently had been preparing for a long time now.  He wouldn’t be opposed to future contracts with WE, but now was time for him to spread out his wings and fly. The Titans would look over him during his recovery, after all, and Gotham was no place for a bedridden vigilante anyway.

Dick felt cold all over.

A bouquet in Tim’s hands, gift from his friends, told them what they needed to know about his decision. 

Lantana. Unyielding. 

Pasque flower. You have no claim.

Azalea. Take care of yourself for me.

The operation should have gotten rid of Tim’ feelings towards the one he loved. Why was he leaving the entire family behind, instead?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Alfred wasn’t there when Tim was discharged. He had decided to go back to the mannor first, with both Cassandra and Stephanie, to ready everything for the family’s return. For those who were coming back, at least. Tim had said goodbye to him in private, Dick thinks. He doesn’t understand.

Bruce goes next, and he leaves the room shortly after, confusion as clear in his face as when he went in.

Jason and Damian entered together, neither trusting the other with their bedridden, weakened brother. Dick thinks, if there was something positive to take out of Tim’s suffering, was the cementing of his bond with both his predecessor and successor. They left with twin paper slips and a direction scratched on them. An invitation for the future.

As requested, Dick was the last one. He had to stop at the threshold and just relish in the image his brother gave. Healthier than he had been in weeks (maybe months, even), rosy cheeks, no sign of shadows under his eyes, easy smile stretching lazy lips. Hair a mess, but when wasn’t it? Still underweight, the days leading to the surgery, specially hard on his body, had prevented him from eating much of anything, but that was nothing a lot of care wouldn't solve. Care that would be provided by his friends, apparently. 

His heart throbs.

They hadn’t been alone in a room together in quite a long time. When Tim succumbed to Hanahaki and collapsed in the Cave, maybe? And before that? At least a year and a half, maybe two, before he gave Robin to Damian.

Tim is lounging by the window, travel backpack at his feet. Conner would be picking him up from the hospital’s rooftop any minute now, and the rest of their team had already went to the mannor for the rest of his luggage. 

One last goodbye, and Tim would be gone. 

(Better in San Francisco than dead, he thinks)

-Why? -he asks, unable to stop himself. The question had burned at his throat for too long now, and he wanted to cough to get rid of the feeling. He refrained; weary of anything that could delay his answers.

Tim, so tight lipped he had been lately on the subject, let his smile stretch an inch wider.

-I’ve been in love with you for as long as memory serves, Dick. 

Easy, voice almost breezy. As if had not completely turned Dick’s world over.

Unperturbed by Dick’s gasp and his sudden need to grasp the wall for support, Tim continued.

-My feelings for the rest of the family were built over that, and now that they are gone… well. I still care for them, the small part of me that wasn’t consumed by love grew to like them besides what I felt for you, but the feeling is… a lot smaller than it was before.

A small shrug, he looked at his wristwatch and bent to pick his backpack up. Apparently they were running out of time for their goodbye.

Dick had believed Tim had saved him for last because there were many things he needed to tell him. Turns out that he just didn’t care enough. Didn’t care anymore.

-You know how it is, when you stack everything over one little, unstable piece of yourself? When it collapses, it takes everything away. My life as a vigilante was spurred from meeting you so long ago. I came to be Bruce’s partner and later his son because of you. I made up with Jason and Damian because you edged us on. I guess Alfie, Cass and Steph are the most detached from that, so I’m cool with them now as well. The rest… I’ll guess we’ll see, from now on, how it goes. Fresh starts and all that.

He approaches Dick, still smiling. Dick has to force himself not to shiver. There’s nothing scary in Tim’s eyes, nothing dark; just lightness and calmness. 

He’d never noticed, how charged those eyes were when they looked at him. Now, they barely held anything. 

And that by itself was terrifying.

-I still care about you, don’t make that face -he laughs, but it’s… it’s not the laugh he’s used to. Not the one that screams so many feelings. Not the one that always made him felt like he was on top of the world just from earning it-. You are part of the Waynes. We’ll see each other soon enough, and I’m sure we’ll be able to built a new relationship that’s not linked with my hopeless love. It’ll probably take time, I’m bound to be very busy with my new company and my team, but hey, we’re young, there’s time.

Dick feels sick. His chest is so tight, he can’t breath.

-Don’t look so grim -Tim whispers, a hand careful on Dick’s shoulders-. You were right, the operation was for the best. I was just… desperate and lost, you know? I felt that way for so long, I didn’t knew how to be anything else than in love with you. Wasn’t sure how much of me would remain after getting rid of that part. Apparently -he waves at himself- enough. 

Another step, Tim was just by his side, still touching him but now closer. Another step, and he’d be out of the room.

-After everything went wrong between us… the flowers I used to have were prettier. Both in meaning and… well. Do you know what belladonnas, nightshades, clematis and every other flower I coughed had in common?

He shakes his head. Isn’t sure if Tim can see it over how hard he’s shaking.

-They are all poisonous. That’s what my love for you was in the end, Dick. It was poison, and it was killing me inside faster than even the Hanahaki, but I still nurtured it. Them. Those flowers were killing me, and I still cared for them, watered them with my tears and memories. I know, it was silly, but… Well, you know how people say ‘pick your poison’? I picked you. I hanged on until I couldn't anymore. Letting the flowers go was the hardest choice I ever made -he laughs, a little incredulous- and now that they are gone, I can’t even understand why. I guess only those in love can.

He’s still smiling when he lets go of Dick’s shoulder and steps out into the hallway. 

-Bye, Dick. See you soon, okay? Take care.

Dick stays there, frozen in the door, for a long time. Thinking of Tim, of the years spent together, the pain and the happiness they shared.

He remembers the kid he was, bright eyed. Always following him around when he had the chance, hanging out to Dick’s every word. Always kind, good beyond belief. Too much, for the life they lead. Too bright for all the darkness surrounding the Bat.

Until everything started crumbling. Until the weight of duty drove Dick into distrust. Into choosing. Into abandoning.

Until all those sweet memories turned into even sweeter poison.

The happy but naive kid, turned ruthless but righteous teen, turned dangerous and kind hearted young man. The kind of man who receives a vial of toxics from a loved one, and still drinks it with a smile. Still fights to do good. Still tries to keep his feelings, as hurtful as they turned to be, close to his heart.

He was heartbreakingly beautiful in his sadness when he decided to let go, and now in the lightheadedness of finally being able to breath.

Dick falls to his knees. Emotions too deep, too complicated, swim around his head.

He feels like he lost something invaluable. He’s not sure what: Tim is still there, alive and happy. And they’d have to rebuild their bridges, but that was possible as long as he was there.

So why…?

All comes crashing around him, and he allows himself to cough, trying to get the heaviness off his airways. To breath again, after Tim took all the air with him when he left.

He coughs, and coughs and coughs.

Ranunculus petals come out. I’m dazzled by your charms.

He coughs, heaves and pukes. Crawls into the room and closes the door behind him. No one can see.

Lilies of the valley, fully bloomed. Sweetness. Happiness through the ages. You’ve made my life complete.

Gasping for air, he drags himself to the nearest wall, back resting against it as he hides his face in knees drawn up against his chest.

A hemlock, bloodstained. You will cause my death.

A shadow passes by the window. It’s dark and blue and a little red; Superboy, taking Tim to San Francisco and away from him. From the man who almost killed him.

He cries in between coughs, as the garden of lost chances, poisonous flowers and blood grow around him. It’s grimly beautiful; no wonder Tim was hesitant of getting rid of it.

He can’t breath.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

#My writing #Tim Drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #kon el kent #jason todd #damian wayne #batfamily #Batfamily Fanfic #hanahaki disease au #hanahaki au #tw: angst #Alfred Pennyworth #Cassandra Cain Wayne #Stephanie Brown #one sided love #DickTim

[cricketscreations]

AMARANTH [ c. cullen ]

TITLE :: Amaranth

CHAPTER ZERO :: The Beginning of the End

PAIRING :: Carlisle Cullen x reader, various x reader

GENRE :: Drama

SUMMARY :: Once leading a life of what she seen as relative normality, a sudden change sends poor y/n into a disastrous spiral.

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Y/n had a normal life, as normal as she could possibly have, and she was happy with the mediocrity. She was rather successful; she was getting married soon, she was working as the personal assistant to a regional manager for some big corporate business and made good money — hell, she even made an effort to reconnect with her parents, before they passed away, that is — she even planned on going to college after getting married so she could pursue a career as a pediatrician. But, of course, life hardly ever goes as planned.

Her life came crashing down towards the beginning of January, during her bachelorette party with a few of her close friends. At first, she hated the idea of having a bachelorette party, but after endless pestering, her friends convinced her to go to a club with them. However, Y/n happened to more introverted and somehow came up with an excuse to hang out in the empty alley behind the club for a breather, and sneaking a secret smoke. She lit the tobacco and inhaled the chemicals, her lungs stinging since she'd abstained from cigarettes for a while. She knew they were toxic to her health, but in overly stressful situations, she would break out the ol' cancer sticks for a bit of relief.

The cool night breeze sent shivers down her spine. She was not wearing the most comfortable winter outfit. Quite frankly, she was freezing her tits off at the chill. The outfit she was in was a pretty small dress with a pair of black boots, revealing a lot of skin, which was borrowed from one of her friends’ closet.

Her cigarette had almost completely burned out when she heard some gravel being kicked around while feet quietly shuffled around on the ground. She became slightly paranoid at the thought of someone being in close proximity to her. She dropped the cigarette butt and stomped out the faltering flame, picking it back up once it was out and tossing it in an outdoor trash bin. When she turned back to see if an animal was causing the little noises, but she was met with a man who had stunningly pale skin and blond hair held up in a ponytail. She was terrified, and her eyes scanned him, looking for any sign of familiarity. Alas, she found none. He was wearing a pair of jeans, but no shirt, which she found strange, especially because it was January and there were flurries of snow falling to the ground.

Y/n had no idea what was going on, but couldn't help the small, scared whimper that she let out when he clamped his cold hand around her mouth with fast, bruising force, ensuring that she couldn't scream out for help. Tears streamed down her cheeks as he sunk his rather sharp teeth into her clavicle. She was terrified, she could only see a glint of red in his eye, before a rush of intense pain coursed through her veins. The blond pulled away from her neck, a bit of red liquid dripping from the corner of his mouth. She choked out a sob and fell to the ground once his hand left her jaw, bare knees hitting the rough, loose gravel.

The doors of the club opened, to reveal a couple of Y/n's girlfriends, worriedly chattering; the stranger darted off, not wanting to be caught. She struggled to stay conscious, her vision becoming worse by the second, black dots spotting her surroundings. She squeaked out a small "help" before collapsing on the ground entirely, the ache still running through her body.

The girls panicked, seeing their dear friend fall unconscious in their peripherals, turning and running toward her. At first, they thought she was a goner, but one of them thought to pull out a small mirror from their purse and stuck it below her nose. Although it was minor, her breathing caused a slight fog on the mirror, letting them know she wasn't dead yet. They let out sighs of relief and did their best to pick up their friend, but the heels they chose to wear were no help to them. Instead of attempting to lug her out and flag down a cab, they focused on trying to find out exactly what happened and who they had to kill for causing this.

One of the girls, Stephanie, looked her up and down, seeing if she had any injuries, and came across a large, bleeding wound on her neck that looked like a bite if you squinted. Stephanie pointed out the spot to the other girl, Lisa, while she fished a makeup wipe out of her purse. She used a wipe to clean up the injury, but Y/n hissed in pain as the wipe made contact with an open part of the wound.

Y/n's eyes opened, and she took a moment to regain herself, pressing her back against the wall of the building. "I. . . I'm gonna go home." She grumbled, bending down to pick up her clutch.

"Are you kidding, Y/n? You need to go to the hospital! That thing on your neck is disgusting!" Stephanie was shocked, she was clearly concerned about the wound, but Y/n didn't seem to care as much.

Lisa chimed in, "It could get infected if you don't get it treated, Y/n, you should have it checked out."

The corner of Y/n's mouth twitched upwards, a weak smile appearing. "Steph, Lis, I can take care of this, it's nothing," It was definitely not nothing. She could feel an ache all throughout her veins and her head felt like it was about to explode. Y/n didn't want them to worry, she knew them all too well and she knew that if the weirdo who bit her gave her some disease they wouldn't stop blaming themselves. "I'll go home, get some bandages and antibiotic ointment, then I'll be good as new. Don't worry."

The girls, very reluctantly, let her go — trusting her instead of arguing with their stubborn friend. "Do you want me to come with? I can help, it's kind of an awkward spot to be fixing up on your own." Stephanie offered.

Y/n shook her head and politely murmured, "No thanks, Steph." They respected her wishes and headed back inside while she caught a cab driving by.

It took only about fifteen minutes for the cab to get her home, opposed to the usual twenty — the driver had seen the dried blood that had stained her skin and decided that it would be best to get there as fast as he could. She thanked the man and paid her fare, plus a hefty tip, before stumbling into her home. It was around midnight when she decided to stop waiting on her fiancé, Tyler, to get home since he was working late, yet again. She dressed her wound in bandages and took some pain killers along with a shot of whiskey to dull the ache, then retired to bed.

The next morning, she felt nothing but the raging pain of her blood coursing through her veins like poison. She swallowed it down with a few shots of hard liquor and her daily medicine. The entire day she was on edge, always looking over her shoulder. She took the day off from work, but her husband hadn't; something about extra paperwork to file before dinner. His parents were coming over to celebrate their engagement over dinner, and although Y/n wasn't feeling good, she wasn't going to up and cancel.

Instead of making a meal, Y/n called a nearby Japanese catering company, ordering a few plates of assorted sushi rolls to be delivered by four o'clock. She didn't worry over the cost, but rather plopped down on the couch, trying to rest before she'd have to deal with her to-be in-laws.

She must've lost track of time because before she knew it, there was a knock at the door, and she was mindlessly getting up to open it. There stood an awkward-looking teen with a few insulated cases in hand. "Ms. L/n?" In response, she nodded and he gestured to a receipt sitting on top of the boxes. "Sign on the dotted line," The delivery boy pulled a blue pen out of his pocket and handed it to her, which she took with hesitation. She signed for the food and took the boxes. "Have a nice day!" He spoke quickly as she shut the door.

"Why can I still smell him? He smells like Frito's dipped in guac," Y/n grimaced, however, the stench made her hungry. "Whatever, I can dig in once they're here." She sighed.

Only moments passed before the door opened, revealing her soon-to-be husband, Tyler, and his parents. Tyler took it upon himself to set the table and help his parents settle in for their stay. Y/n stood in the bathroom, observing her neck and shoulder — whatever used to be there was now but a faint ring mark. Unfortunately, that didn't mean her pain stopped. Thankfully, she had a higher tolerance than most, and a bit of liquor helped.

They were part-way through dinner, and Y/n was picking at her second California roll. She could just barely stand the scents her nose was taking in — and the sushi wasn't the cause. She could separate the smells too; one of them smelt like rotting pears, another was a variation of sour wine, and the final one was by far the one that made her hunger plunge deeper — it was floral, and yet bitter. The sushi was no longer of any interest to Y/n; those smells, though, they were mouthwatering.

"Oh, dear, Y/n," Tyler's mother, Jill, started. "I just don't understand why you couldn't have made the food yourself; then again, you've always been quite a lazy lady." The last part was more of a reminder to herself but still, hurt Y/n nonetheless.

Y/n smiled, but everyone could tell it was fake, and there was nothing but pure rage behind it. "Oh, Jillian, you always critique my cooking skills anyways, so I thought why not save you the trouble and just get food elsewhere." Bitterness seeped from every word she spoke as she glared daggers at Tyler's monster of a mum.

"How thoughtful." The father, Wayne, added, shoving a spicy tuna roll down his gullet.

Jill obviously wasn't happy with the retort and turned to her beloved son. "I can't see why you didn't try to get with that Jessy girl at your office, she was an absolute sweetie; but I guess you like the sour bunch."

Wayne chuckled. "Yeah, if I were in your situation, I'd take the bait," He paused, taking a bite of another sushi roll before speaking up again. "Put in some extra hours, if you know what I mean." He spat, a piece of rice shooting out on his mouth and onto Y/n's nearby plate. Tyler let out a nervous laugh, looking towards his fianceé.

As she got angrier, the smells got more intense and the sound of rhythmic beating and rushing liquid filled her ears. She snapped her eyes shut so she could try to focus, but she just couldn't. Tyler attempted to bring her out of her pained expression with aggressive shoulder tapping, he was met with a push with massive force behind it. Said push sent him hurtling backward into a wall, causing his body to leave a hole in its place before he fell to the ground. Wayne stood up in shock, confused at what had just happened, and something had completely taken Y/n over.

No longer could she ignore her hunger, or the pent up fury within her. She leapt at Wayne, smacking his head against the wall harshly, before looking at Jill, who was going through her purse desperately looking for her Blackberry.

"No phones at the table, Jill." Y/n hissed before, kicking the leg of her chair, snapping the wooden block off, and making Jill fall to the floor.

To Jill, all hope was lost. Within seconds, Y/n fell to the floor and grabbed Jill's arm, biting it. The latter cried out, but Y/n quickly grabbed as much sushi as she could handle and shoved it into her mouth, muffling the screams.

Sharp and strong teeth replaced Y/n's former ones and she mercilessly sucked the blood from Jill's arm. Y/n's eyes had gone dark, and that was all Jill saw before she'd lost a large amount of blood and lost consciousness.

Y/n physically had to rip herself away from her would-be mother-in-law to prevent herself from draining the body completely. Once she had seen what was done, tears streamed down her face. Panic set in, and Y/n stood up and looked around at the mess she made.

Something felt off. Her hands wandered to her mouth, poking at her mouth to realize that her teeth felt much stronger than before and there was a thick layer of blood on her bottom lip. "Holy shit. . ." She gasped, scared of what idea came to mind. "Am I a fucking vampire?"

It sounded even more ridiculous out loud.

Her mind circled back to the blood dribbling down her chin and onto her blouse. What a shame. It was one of her favorites. How was she ever going to rid herself of this mess? This was her house, people in the neighborhood knew her, she would obviously be suspect number one and she had zero idea how to drop off the face of the earth.

Y/n's eyes shifted around the room, looking for some sort of sudden solution to her problems. Sushi, blood, candles, broken wood. . . Candles. . . Fire. She could burn the evidence. Her mind wandered back to the gas canister for her lawnmower; Tyler always kept it full so it would be there when he needed it. She rushed out to the garage, surprised at her speed, and retrieved the red can.

She poured gasoline on the floor, making sure the bodies were doused in the extremely flammable liquid. Let's be honest, if the bodies burnt enough, the police of this town probably wouldn't care enough to look too far into it — they'd most likely mark her off as deceased as well.

She had changed into a pair of thick spandex, a pair of comfortable sneakers, and a hoodie two sizes too large; and at the ripe, late time of '1:27 AM', Y/n snatched one of her lighters and her pack of cigarettes and went outside. She lit a cigarette and took a couple of moments to reminisce. She adored her house, but it could no longer be her home. She wouldn't be safe there, and she couldn't come back. She needed to be far, far away. She couldn't spend a second more there, so she took one last hit and flicked her lit cigarette through the door of the house and took off as flames spread through the house.

Hour, upon hour — they simply passed like minutes. It felt exhilarating to not be tired. She ran all night and the sun was starting to peek over the horizon, soft rays of light filtered through the crowds of trees. She was in a forest of some kind, and she had absolutely no idea where she was. After a couple of minutes of nothing but trees for miles, she stopped.

Somehow she felt absolutely no exhaustion from the obscene amount of physical work she'd just went through. She must've been at least a couple of states away, she should be safe.

tags :: @whattheheckisevengoingon​

#amaranth #carlisle cullen #twilight carlisle #twilight #twilight x reader #carlisle cullen x reader #lux fics

[the-middle-grounds]

So now that I have energy and have rewritten this about 5 times!  Blind (and colorblind) Batfam!

*I tried to be as sensitive about how I wrote this since I’m not 100% familiar with the blind community (I know basic etiquette) so if I did something bad or inappropriate, send me an ask with where and what can be fixed!

BRUCE

Bruce’s occipital lobe was severely damaged during the murder of his parents, and he was blinded as a result.

He got Ace, a service dog, to help him with the trauma, as well as helping him get around whenever he wasn’t in the mood to be with Alfred.  The two of them are close.

Bruce eventually started hearing about echolocation in humans, and started to learn about that and even using it.  He’s so proficient in it, he doesn’t even really need Ace anymore, but there’s not a chance in hell he’s getting rid of his best bud.

People know Bruce Wayne is blind, and they try to use it to their advantage.  Bruce is smarter than that, and is very much aware of how shallow people are.

Most people don’t know that Batman is blind, however.  Catwoman is one of the notable people who know, and whenever she’s being playful, she likes to sneak up on him and surprise him.

The Justice League also know, but don’t treat him any differently because why would they?  Dr. Mid-Nite exists for one.

DICK

Dick lost his vision when Hayley’s Circus was set on fire.  While escaping, he was hit by debris and blinded.  By the time he’s a young adult, the scarring is pretty much gone.

In an effort to help out Dick, Bruce helped developed a device that could pinpoint noises.  Dick then proceeded to thank Bruce by using it to get into trouble and play hide-and-seek.

Bruce eventually stopped using Dick as a guinea pig, and offered up the tech to the public.  Dick still kept his, however; even when he left to join the Teen Titans.

Since Dick likes to drop several dozen feet off buildings, Bruce actually shed a few tears when Tim gave him more advanced echolocation tech.  Dick will never admit how many times he miscalculated because of rain.

Bruce has seen his hospital bills; he knows.

JASON

Jason was born blind, and since he was a street kid with not so great parents, had to learn to get around by himself.  He was pretty good at it too, and was stealing the Batmobile’s tires when Batman arrived.  Jason tried to beat him up, and he made a real good effort too.

Jason got used to using the tech after a while, though he prefers only using it for fighting.

When he came back to life, he ended up becoming better at hand-to-hand without the use of technology.  But he does use it for accuracy whenever he aims.

People have lied to Jason and told him he’s put his helmet on the wrong way around.  These same people have gotten said helmet pelted in the direction of their face.

TIM

Tim and Cassandra both have a degenerative eye disease.  When Tim found out Batman’s identity, he insisted that Bruce take him on because they weren’t too close from different.

Tim later ended up improving on Bruce’s tech, and even customized some for the others.

Tim eventually went completely blind, but he’s adjusted just fine.

His favorite thing to do is get carried by Kon for a flight.  That and doing a Dick Grayson and gliding off buildings.

Tim is very much still tech savvy, working off muscle memory and occasional assistance whenever he needs it.  Admittedly, it’s pretty rarely.  But you will never see him ask Barb or Steph for anything involving colors.

BATGIRLS

Barbara has monochrome colorblindness, and Bruce didn’t realize it until he realized she kept describing colors by how dark they were.  This led to a bunch of reminiscing about colors, and Dick even joined in to describe colors to her.

Whenever Bruce pisses her off, Barbara realigns things ever so slightly.  Bruce could care less, but Dick will trip over something and play it off like it was a stunt.

After her incident with Joker, Barbara took to the moniker of Oracle, and her colorblindness was hardly a hold back for her.

Cassandra did manage to retain some of her eyesight.  As it stands, she can see somewhat, but it’s all pretty blurry.  She wears glasses most of the time, but prefers fighting with the tech Tim designed.

Because they can’t use sign language with Cass, she had a rough time learning to fit in.  Eventually, they learned to communicate through morse code and occasional fingerspelling.

Even though Cass learned to speak, she still prefers morse code with her friends and family.

No one (except Barbara) actually realized what form of blindness Steph had until she asked Barbara if waffles were pink.  It turned out she had  Tritanopia.

Steph and Barbara tried out colorblindness glasses once and Barbara lost her shit.

“I THOUGHT THIS WAS PURPLE!”  “I don’t know what to tell you except that that’s 110% dark blue.”

Cass has to tell the other two which colors they’re looking at whenever they hang out.  Specifically when they start debating colors.

DUKE

Duke, like Jason, was also born blind.  He’s also the only one who uses a cane for when he walks.

Unlike the others, however, Duke doesn’t need to use any external devices to see; his powers work well with sound and allow him to move around just fine.  (I know his powers focus on light, which would require him to see, but I changed it slightly for this AU.)

Rather than ‘seeing’ in color/definition, Duke perceives shapes and figures in something like a bunch of different parts of sound altogether.

Duke has the ability to ‘steal the light’ out of people’s eyes, and temporarily blind them so they’re on the same playing field.

People typically know when Duke is coming because of the sound of his cane moving around.  But he once scared Bruce because he didn’t use it and Bruce didn’t hear him coming.

Duke is still a great writer, though he obviously writes in braille.  His teachers love him.

Some people don’t even realize Duke is blind unless they watch his eyes; they’re unfocused and occasionally ‘wander’.

DAMIAN

Damian lost his sight as a young child.  Talia was regretful, and put a lot of attention on Damian to help him.  Damian disliked the babying behavior, and felt as though Ra’s was disappointed in him.

Talia sent Damian to Bruce because she knew about how he had learned to adjust to his disability.

Damian was LIVID.  He hated everything, he would throw fits, and he hated every- oh hey is that a dog.

Damian got Titus, and over time, began to settle into the family.

Damian initially refused the echolocation tech, but took it because it was helpful for fighting.  Over time, he learned how to work with and without it.

Damian once offhandedly admitted to Jon that he couldn’t remember colors, and Jon sat with him for over an hour describing colors.  

Eventually, Damian started getting into abstract forms of art and presented them to everyone.  Since he couldn’t see what he drew, he took to 3D pieces for his family and friends.  No one even cares what they look like, they all love everything he makes.

Jason is jealous that Damian got a dog but he didn’t.

MISC

They keep playing hide-and-seek and Bruce is tired.

Except for Barbara and Steph, everyone is very sensitive to sound, and it is most definitely their biggest weakness.  Meanwhile, Barb and Steph keep getting blinded by flash bangs and other bright things.

Damian keeps sneaking animals into the house because he knows they won’t see it.  What he keeps forgetting is that roosters scream in the morning, and they can hear that.

In-family fighting is an absolutely insane event.  Things have been thrown and people have fallen down things that shouldn’t have been fallen down.  Dick once tried to pull apart a fight between Tim and Damian and he honestly can’t tell if he slapped Tim or if Damian did it.

They can all tell each others footsteps apart easily, and can even tell who’s arguing even if their in the Batcave and the argument is in the attic.

Someone keeps moving containers out of the typical places, and the finger pointing is always at optimal level.  Alfred is just as frustrated.

Bruce is tired.

They also save a lot on electricity!

#Blind as Bats AU #Batfam #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Barbara Gordon #Tim Drake #Cassandra Cain #Stephanie Brown #Duke Thomas #Damian Wayne #Bruce Wayne

[the-necessary-unnecessary]

Sorry for being ignorant/naive but why do people hate steph houghton so much, i kinda new to this

It's mostly about her on pitch performances especially for England. There's a practically general consensus that even though she's captain this doesnt mean that she should be on the pitch starting practically every match still. She isnt one of the two best CBs around for the Lionesses, she makes mistakes which can leave the defense exposed and in many cases results in unnecessary goals, her partnership in the team with Millie Bright isnt ideal either and can cause quite a lot of misunderstandings and individual play rather than working as a pair etc. There's just quite a.lot of built up resentment that she's still playing when it's clearly not working and there's other players like Leah, and Aofie Mannion when she's fit, Abbie McManus etc who are younger and could fulfil the role better. This is mostly Phil Neville's fault for keeping her there but the resentment remains as some may think that she butters up the manager too much and gets favourable treatment.

The other points of note are a couple of her actions, saying that she doesnt actually watch nor go out of her way to find women's football whilst she does for the men discredits her profession and her livelihood, especially as captain of the national team. It was a very ill fated statement to make and one which rightly caused a.lot of uproar. Then the other is of course her involvement, like most of the squad at the time, with the Mark Sampson racism case where as the captain she backed him up and said the claims they were making against him were 'bullying' rather than it being the fact that Sampson was the racist person and hate instigator.

However, there's other very positive things to be said about her personality too. She married her husband two years ago now, and he has a motor neurone disease which is fatal and means that he has only a few more years to live. Steph has to balance a professional career as a captain in the limelight, whilst also juggling with her personal life and being a very vocal advocater for change and progress in research for this disease (they did a fundraiser in May for example which got many players and journalists from across the game involved). This shows an immense strength of character and belief in what she does and this cannot be faulted at all. Its very commendable.

#the asks #steph houghton

[iamfitzwilliamdarcy]

Title: Agony! That Can Cut Like a Knife Summary: Tim Drake loves Gotham Sports, but Gotham Sports do not love Tim back (AO3)  A/N: I put too many italics in this for a tumblr post smh. Apologies in advance to citizens of Newark, my only encounters with New Jersey have been on the Turnpike and a view of the skyline across the river from a rooftop bar in Manhattan. Kinda want to apologize to Devils fans but maybe not enough to actually Do It.

For anyone who cares I set a Gotham Sports Team Roster because same names are used for different sports in different universes and this is what I decided to go with:

Football: Knights Hockey: Bats Baseball: Colonials Basketball: Buzzards

There was a low, pained groan from a couch in the main living room. Pained enough Bruce stopped to check it out. Jason was sitting in an armchair, eyeing the couch’s occupant with a particular kind of disbelieving, annoyed distaste.

Bruce couldn’t see who it was because they were slumped down, laying on the cushions. He peeked over to find Tim, hands peeking out of the too-long sleeves of his black Gotham Bats jersey. They covered his face, but he was looking through his fingers to watch the TV intensely.

Bruce followed Tim’s gaze to see the score and winced. “Still early in the season,” he said bracingly.

“Early?” Jason snorted. “It’s December.”

Tim did not respond, still watching intensely. He dropped his hands at a particularly bad turn-over to shout, “Oh come on!”

“Pace yourself,” Jason said, giving him that look again. “Or you won’t last to April. And we’ll need you in April.”

“Jason,” Tim said, sounding calm and intense, even as the game breaks away for a commercial. “I have never been chill about this team a day in my life.”

Jason muttered something that sounded like “Clearly.”

Bruce had been busy the past couple of months and hadn’t had much time to keep up with Gotham’s sports teams. Not that there had been much to keep up with. The Knights had ended their season quietly, as they had for the past decade--no playoff games, no Super Bowl hopes. There had been a brawl between teammates during a late season practice, but the team had kept that mostly hush-hush.

Hockey was only two months in but--well, he could see the score on the TV to see how that was going. The Buzzards, he’d read in the paper just that morning, weren’t doing much better.

He hadn’t had much time to hang out with his kids, either. He settled down next to Tim on the couch to watch, just in time for the game to return to commercials and a fight to break out over the face-off circle.

The second period closed with Gotham on a PowerPlay for another 1:30. Bruce got up to get snacks (“Popcorn,” Jason said, “With M&Ms!” Tim added.)

“Bruce,” Tim said  balefully, staring up at him with wide eyes as Gotham gave up a shorthanded goal and their goalie broke his stick against the crossbar. “Will you buy the me Bats, please?”

“I had a chat with Joseph Higgens last week, actually,” Bruce said casually.

Tim twisted around so suddenly he almost startled even Bruce. “Higgens?” Tim repeated in an incredulous hiss. “Higgens? The Devils, Bruce, really, have you no loyalty? You’re a traitor, this is treason!”

Jason turned his laugh into a cough,, and Bruce opened his mouth in defense of his Gotham pride, but Tim was working himself into a state. “You don’t just give up on your team because they keep losing! That’s your team, you can’t just choose any old other team in your state. You don’t get to choose, Bruce! You can’t just turn your back on Gotham!

“And Newark! Nobody wants to live in Newark. I’d rather die than live in Newark, jot that down Jason, I want that in my Advance Directives.”

“Fair,” Jason said, nodding. He had died, and he had been to Newark. He understood.

Tim steamrolled on, not even acknowledging he’d been validated. “Wait, are you sending me to Newark, a city I hate, to own the Devils, the team I hate? Why,” and Tim, to Bruce’s horror, sounded tearful, “do you hate me, B?”

“Tim,” Bruce said, a little helplessly. “Tim, honey, I was joking.”

He leaned over and lays a hand across Tim’s forehead. He felt a shade too warm, but not feverish enough to cause such a response. It was probably the jersey anyway.

“I’m not sick, Bruce,” Tim said mulishly. Then, suspiciously, “Did you call me honey? You don’t do that. You are sending me to Newark.”

He flopped over on the couch and buried his head into his arms. This was probably a good thing as Gotham was scored against again.

“Just put us out of our misery,” Tim mumbled.

“What’s wrong with Drake?” Damian had come in, Dick not far behind, juggling the leftover popcorn Bruce had left on the counter, and he stood, arms folded, lip curling as he examined Tim. “He looks more pathetic than usual.”

“Ah Timmy,” Dick said sympathetically, glancing at the screen. “A little early for the annual Gotham Sports-Induced emotional breakdown, isn’t it?”

“Fuck you and your seocnd rate Bludhaven ECHL team, Dick,” Tim snarled, words, but not his ire, muffled by the couch pillow and his own arms.

Dick blinked, unsure how to respond, and silence rang through the room, though Jason’s silence sounded suspiciously like silent laughter.

Tim turned over. “I’m sorry,” he said, meeting Dick’s eyes. “That was ugly.”

Then, balefully, “Bruce is sending me to Newark to live amongst filth. Please say your goodbyes now as I am not much longer for this world.”

“I am not sending you to Newark, Tim, for God’s sake,” Bruce snapped.

“I’ll miss you, buddy,” Dick said solemnly, patting Tim’s back as he sat down on the kid’s legs. He offered Tim some of the popcorn.

“You didn’t put M&M’s in,” Tim accused, but ate a handful anyway.

“If you care,” Bruce said, coming back on the other  side of the couch and throwing himself into his recliner. A cat streaked away from where he’d been about to sit and Damian threw him a filthy look, “I tried to buy the Bats for your birthday last month, but the bastard Eliot cousin won’t sell.”

“Honestly, Bruce,” Jason said, leaning back, “How are you the richest man in Gotham and you don’t own a single team?”

“No one will sell to me,” Bruce said glumly. “I tried to get the Knights a few years back, when they were about to go bankrupt, but Stan Diner wouldn’t let me.”

“He’s a Cobblepot cousin,” Jason said, casually, turning back to his book.. “The Penguin funds him. It’s shady.”

Bruce frowned at him. “How did I not know that?”

“Mm,” Jason said, not looking up. “I know something you don’t. I have connections you don’t.  And you said the mob wouldn’t pay,” he lowers his voice in a stern imitation, “Mob boss isn’t a career path, Jason, you said, but look who’s got the insider knowledge.”

Bruce closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

Midway through his calming breath, Damian said, haughtily, “This sport is respectable.”

He opened his eyes to see a Gotham player dropping his glove and raining, admittedly admirable, rights on an opposing player.

“Have you never seen a hockey game?” Dick asked, frowning.

“God, I wish that were me,” Tim said, when Damian shook his head.

“Bruce,” Dick said, in that disappointed parent tone that always upset Bruce’s sense of order “You haven’t taken him to a game?”

“We haven’t had much time,” Bruce replied. Then, defensively, “I’ve taken him to many museums!”

“That’s barely culture!” Dick said.

“You take Dick to games?” Tim asked.

“He has box seats,” Jason put in.

Bruce wasn’t sure how this had turned on him.

“WE has box seats,” Bruce snapped. “Not me.”

“Bruce,” Tim said, looking at him with wide eyes that made him look sad and young. “You had box seats to the Bats and you never told me, the CEO of Wayne Enterprises?”

“He used to take me all the time,” Jason, the son whom he loved, said, betraying him,  while Dick shook his head sadly.

“Me too,” Dick added. “He’s got seats at the Knights, Buzzards, Colonials, Tim, he never told you?”

“No,” Tim said miserably, peeking at Bruce from his forlorn place on the couch. “Never.”

“They go to a WE family in a lottery system!” Bruce insisted.

“I am a WE family!” Tim said back. Then, abruptly, roared at the TV, “Fucking refs, I swear!”

“I guess it has been a while since we’ve all had a family outing to a sports endeavor,” Bruce admitted.

“Well don’t make it sound like textbook disease, B,” Dick said, rolling his eyes.

“The Bats play the Monarchs next week and I’m fully expecting to lose and also Tim Winston to fight at least three players,” Tim said.

“At the same time,” Jason added.

“I hope he gets his ass kicked,” Tim said.

“He won’t,” Jason said. “But he might get suspended again.”

“Boys,” Bruce said absently, thinking.

“You’ll take us, won’t you, B?” Tim said, suddenly pleading.

“I’ll call HR and make sure they haven’t gone for lottery yet,” Bruce agreed.

“A box seat,” Tim sighed wistfully, flopping back against the arm rest. “This whole time. To think I used to take Steph on dates to the nosebleeds.”

“Invite her,” Bruce said. “Barbara too,” he added at Dick.

“And Jonathan?” Damian asked, stiffly.

“If you want a Monarchs fan tagging along, sure,” Tim said, disgust evident.

“Tim,” Bruce scolded. Then, “Of course Jonathan can come. I’ll call Clark tomorrow.”

He looked around at his family, suddenly feeling warm. A day at the box seats at a Gotham Bats game would be good, fun bonding for them all.

“Fuck you, ref!” Tim yelled suddenly at the TV.

Jason shouted after, “And the horse you rode in on!”

Well, Bruce could hope.

#tim drake #jason todd #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #gotham sports #fanfic tag #my fic #katie's adventures in writing