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#queued as dicks
dahuntress · 4 months
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🅗🅐🅟🅟🅨 🅗🅞🅛🅘🅓🅐🅨🅢
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flamingpudding · 2 months
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Not my Circus
A/N: I hate my brain and it's suckish timing...
Danny was a circus kid. He knew that, and so did his parents. Well, the once that took him in when he was five. He knew he had a loving family before the Fentons. Yet he doesn't know himself why he never put in more effort to return to them. No, wait, he had an idea what his five years old mind could have been thinking.
If Freakshow and his mockery of a circus had never shown up in Amity. Then Danny might have pushed the thought of his original family to the side forever. He had been a foolish kid back then, reckless and tempramental, unlike his older brother. He had tried to follow into his parents' and brother's footsteps, but he wasn't as graceful or acrobatic as they were. It was irony really with how much he liked flying and doing tricks in the air now. But still he remembered having a lot of frustrated fights with his brother about his inability to be like them.
When he got reminded he started to do a bit of a more serious research again and when he found out about his originals parents death half a year after he was first declared missing from the circus as well as his older brothers having gotten adopted too, he had dropped it all again. Pushing all of that back into the deepest depths of his mind again. His older brother was doing well. There was no need for him, for Danny.
That went well until Jazz went to university in Gotham and convinced him to go there to collage too, when he sort of forcefully retired from being a teen hero. It went well for a couple of years until his mid twenties.
Because despite Gotham being a city way bigger than Amity, there were still chances of you running into certain people.
The moment he entered the coffee shop and saw the others face, everything he had pushed aside in his mind came right back to the forefront of his mind.
How he foolishly trained in acrobatics behind his families back after another fight while they were moving towns and fell off the wagon.
How he had felt like he enjoyed not feeling presured to be like them and didn't put too much effort into returning to them when he was with the Fenton as well as thinking that his elder brother was probably happier without a stubborn little brother.
How when he looked them up he dropped it just as fast when he learned about their deaths and his elder brothers adoption.
He blinked wide-eyed at the man that stood before him a teen next to him while he held two cups of coffees. He, too, was staring at Danny frozen.
Now Danny had several options of how to handle the situation. And he most likely didn't choose the best one at first as usual. Because what he did in response at seeing Richard 'Dick' Grayson was to turn tail and run even using is invisibility and intangiblity.
What Danny didn't know was that Dick's first, thought, was someone cloned him and not that his missing brother from his days before the Waynes was back.
Thus a game of mouse was started...
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bad-science · 2 months
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Penis Friday? Well not anymore!!!
Revs chainsaw
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cas-backwards-tie · 6 months
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Chapter Six: The Summer of a Lifetime
Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader
Heiress of Gotham | Previous Chapter
Summary: With things out of the way and perhaps a little more trust, maybe the reader will finally start to make some progress, and a few friends along the way.
Warnings: Spying, Being Spied On, Insects, Wet T-Shirts, Flirting,
Words: 3.6k
A/N: While this chapter may seem like it takes a lot of twists in turns in the vignettes, it's sort of meant to reflect the ups and downs and small moments we have during summer. Honestly, though, this is perfect for the introduction of certain characters and plotlines I wanted! القرف = ‘shit’
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It'd been an interesting end to the school year, really, and that's aside from the fact that you'd had to deal with and go through the grief of your Mother passing. Within the few months you'd been at Wayne Manor, the family had quickly learned many things about you. Bruce had found out how frugal and tenacious you are, insistent on selling some of your old articles of clothing for money on some app he could never remember the name of, meanwhile refuting the many attempts he'd offered to take you out shopping. Who wants to go shopping with their Dad anyway? He'd been consumed with work, and therefore more time had been turned over to your brothers.
While school was out for both you and Damian, Tim had decided to take summer classes at the nearby community college since it'd make his college applications only look better. Dick, of course, was still working, and Jason, really, you had no idea what was going on with him since it seemed he had most days free and nights taken. While you'd considered the possibility that someone associated with the Wayne family had a night-time job, you also didn't want to think of someone who very quickly became a big brother to you in that manner. That was just... ew. With the three eldest gone or rarely home, you'd been left with Damian and Alfred mostly.
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“So… you’re spying on your own child because…?” Tim draws out, leaning against the motherboard as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Because it’s Bruce? You’re not the first. Thought you would’ve been the wiser, Green Bean,” Dick chides as he manually stitches another loop into his uniform. Seated on the edge of the metal table propped against the railing on the other side of the platform.
“She’s been watching television for over two hours straight. Is this unhealthy?” The man of the hour speaks, eyes unmoving from the image of you through the lens of one of his pesky drones.
“Hey, you’re the one who’s supposed to be parenting, yeah? You chose to bring her on, you choose what’s healthy and unhealthy,” the elder boy retorts, a clear sass in his tone that reminds Bruce where Damian’s gotten it from.
“Hn,” the old man groans, “That doesn’t mean I know what’s standard in teenagedom as of currently,” he grumbles more to himself than anyone.
“Have you tried, I don’t know, just talking to her?” Tim asks, an eyebrow quirking as he doesn’t try and hide the amused smile breaking across his lips.
“You’re one to talk,” Bruce teases the boy. He’s still somewhat resentful of the way he’d handled things with Stephanie a few years ago now.
A huff of annoyance leaves Tim and he rolls his eyes. Pushing off the computer, he turns to head for the stairs when he spots movement on the monitor. Dick doesn’t seem to care, rather, he’s focused on fixing and upgrading his equipment. However, Tim watches from just a few feet behind the old man’s chair. His drone follows you as you get up, bringing an empty dish and glass to the kitchen. You don’t notice, of course, as Tim knows this has to be one of the nano drones, most likely, disguised as a fly following your movements through the Manor just a few hundred feet above them.
It’s uninteresting, really, the way he watches you put your empty dish in the sink along with your glass. Your visage shifts, heading back to the living room, but doesn’t fail to notice the nano drone. “Spotted,” Tim announces, curious to see where this goes.
“That doesn’t mean anything. Most people aren’t fazed by an insect,” Bruce defends, finally taking his gaze off the screen for a mere moment as he turns to Tim. The boy watches as you step closer to the drone; the still fly on the fridge’s handle was easy to spot, and while your eyes quickly move on in an attempt to seem as if you hadn’t noticed the bug, not wanting to disrupt it or scare it away, you step closer to the fridge.
On top of the box lies an item you’ve been grateful for ever since you’d gotten your Mom to buy it offline. Easily stepping on your tiptoes you grab the object’s handle and have your finger ready atop the trigger. Now all that’s left is to catch it off-guard.
The amused look on Tim’s face makes Bruce paranoid; blue eyes racing back to the monitor, he watches as a tennis-racket swatter comes his way. Lifting the nanodrone up and off the surface he barely escapes the touch of the electric swatter. Bzzt! He’s hit. Flying across the kitchen and landing on the counter, he turns the drone around to get you in frame again. “And you thought she wouldn’t do anything,” Tim laughs. An error message pops up, screen turning red along with the artificial voice alert. Clearly you’ve damaged the drone.
“It only took twenty-five percent capacity,” Bruce announced, clicking different keys to get everything back to neutral.
This elicits Dick’s eyes as his focus shifts up to the situation before him. An amused smile graces his lips and he can’t help but sometimes pity the man. Bruce… tries. He means well, but he doesn’t always have the best approach. “Gotta say, this is better than reality tv.” His Father shakes his head and, attention returning to the monitor again after being distracted by Tim.
“You risked a drone for this? Come on, man. This is your own daughter we’re talking about,” Tim chastises, even if he’s still laughing and more than amused by this. If he wants to waste his tech, by all means, let them watch. It’s not like he can’t get more.
The men watch as you look around the kitchen, eyes taking everything in. With an occasional turn, and a flip of your hair, he’s spotted again! This time Bruce sees you coming before he can be squashed. Out of sight, out of mind, he thinks. “Honestly, I’m just lucky she didn’t spot me earlier. Ace and Titus weren’t the most helpful considering they kept tracking my movements, clueing her in. But she didn’t get me until now.”
“I’m impressed she even got you at all, honestly,” Dick comments, drawing their attention again.
“Not a fan?” Tim asks, curious to hear his thoughts. After all, he hasn’t been around as much considering things have been busy with school, and hectic with Stephanie… therefore, he doesn’t know as much about you. He hasn’t spent as much time around you as the others.
Met with a noncommittal noise, Tim watches Dick shrug. “I’ve got nothing against her aside from what she said at her dinner and obviously her hate for the BPD,” he trails off, a shudder running through him, “then again, she was kind of insane when we were moving her stuff. Threatened to kill us and all. Not really the type of vibe you wanna have running around the house, you know? At least, not mine, I’ll tell you that.” With a chuckle, Dick lifts the needle to his mouth, teeth going for the fabric since he hadn’t bothered to grab scissors.
Tim almost laughs along with his brother, that is until he processes what he’d said. “Wait, what-?!” Eyes quickly darting between him and Bruce, he’s suddenly alert. “What do you mean she tried to kill you?! What’re you talking about? Hey- why didn’t you tell me this?” He zeroes in on Bruce, determined to get an answer. “Does Damian know? Why am I the last one to find out about anything around here?” He complains.
“I mean she tried to-“ Dick begins.
“She did not! Dick, stop exa-“ Bruce interrupts.
“Bruce-“ Tim interjects, eyes suddenly on your approaching visage in the drone’s visual. “Bruce!” You’ve got the fly cornered, with one swift sweeping wack, and a press of the button, it’ll die.
“What?!” He yells. As soon as he turns from Tim to the monitor he’s too late. Zzztt!!! They all grimace and wince. An alert pops up on screen:
‘V I S U A L L O S T’
The options to ‘connect to different device’ or ‘relay input’ lie underneath the big text, but ultimately you’d destroyed the thing. With the click of a button Bruce closes the tab and the background of the Manor’s security camera feeds linger. Alfred dances in the office as he dusts along, presumably, to music—Bruce knows his routine. On another, you’re carrying the nanodrone on the electric swatter to the trash, disposing of the ‘fly’ you’d killed. Lastly, Damian is reading, doing his homework as he sits in an armchair by the fireplace in the Library, Titus curled up by his feet.
“Dammit! This is why you can’t just be in here. You’re either here for a purpose or you’re out,” Bruce dictates. “Dick is actually doing something, Tim. You’re just gossiping.” With a defeated drop of his hands to the desk, he raises himself from his computer chair and rounds Tim.
“You still didn’t tell me what happened,” Tim argues, the anger in his voice no longer hiding. “I’m tired of being out of the loop! What happened?” he demands. A sigh weighs Bruce’s shoulders down, and as Dick finally takes in the men before him, he doesn’t dare to add any more flame to the already burning fire.
“She was involved with Marin. Alright? She thought he was coming for her, momentarily figured we were in on it. Satisfied?” Bruce responds, turning to face the boy.
They all know he’s been hurt. That he has trauma… it’s no secret. Yet, it’s only in few and far between moments that the boys are able to see things for what they are in a crystal-clear view. This is one of those times. Their warped views on good and evil, right and wrong, revenge and punishment… they blur the lines of reality in ways he’s sure that you, a civilian, would never understand, and yet… Tim realizes the weight of this.
“Who-?”
“Angel Marin. Bludhaven’s biggest mob boss,” Dick informs. A ‘Hn’ leaves Bruce’s lips as he makes his way toward the stairs, and a sigh leaves Tim. With a grateful nod in Grayson’s direction, Tim follows after Bruce.
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“You know, someone mentioned your birthday is coming up,” Bruce teases, a hint of a smile hiding behind his wine glass.
The quick flash of a smile overtakes your face before you try to hide it. None of them miss it. “Um… yeah. W-who said?”
It’s invisible, perhaps, to all besides those who know him best, however, Bruce pales at the question, faltering. While you’re good at reading people, you don’t notice. Whether it’s the subject matter or the way everyone’s staring, you simply wait for a response.
“Uh, the-“ he clears his throat, eyes suddenly downcast as he reaches for his knife and fork to cut his steak, “the social worker! Yes, she mentioned it while you were in your meeting.” Obviously a lie. If anyone truly knows Bruce the way most at the table do, they'd know he found it in your files and footprint.
“Oh,” you respond, putting on a fake smile as you too attempt to hide behind the meal. Birthdays can be a big deal for some, and others, not. It all depends, and you aren't sure where things lie in this family. You still feel like an outsider, despite their attempts, and you don't want to burden them further.
“We could have a party!” Damian suggests, to everyone’s surprise.
“You just want a party,” Jason comments with a chortle.
“Is there anything you want?” Dick asks, looking down at you from your side, putting you on the spot. His kind blue eyes stir something within you, and you turn your gaze back to your plate. Busying yourself by cracking your knuckles, your lips purse into a line. With a shake of your head, it’s clear no one is sated.
“There’s nothing you want? At all?” Bruce prods, eliciting your eye contact again. Lips pursing even more you shake your head again.
“Um,” eyes falling to your lap you collect yourself, not allowing your imagination to run wild. “You taking me in was enough. Thank you.” Voice quiet, everyone has their own reaction to your words, albeit unbeknownst to you.
“Oh, shut up! You know there’s at least one thing you want,” Jason teases from across the table.
“Oh? And what’s that since you know her so well?” Tim pries, knowing he’s setting his brother up. Jason hesitates, almost choking on his drink which elicits laughs from the boys, and an amused smile from Bruce. As bickering starts to ensue, you decide.
“I-“ all eyes turn to you, “I want a party!” You announce. With a confident smile, you figure, how bad could it be? After all, parties don't need to be big! Something sweet, the family there, and a boardgame is all you'd need for it to be considered a party to you.
“See? At least I know what she wants,” Damian chides proudly.
“Oh? Well what kind of party would you like?” Bruce asks.
“Who do you want to invite?” Dick inquires.
“What’s the theme?” Jason adds.
“Actually, isn’t your birthday coming up now that I think of it?” Tim voices his concern over to Jason.
“Uh…” Jason shakes his head a little, taken aback, “I mean, I don’t really celebrate anymore since-“
“-the same day as Alfred’s, that’s right,” Bruce saves them, an unfazed smile on his lips, “though I believe we can celebrate both, can’t we?” While you’re not exactly paying attention, to the rest of them there’s a silent, yet menacing request behind his eyes. It’s clear they’re not allowed to speak freely anymore, no matter your new seat at the table of their family.
“Okay, but mine comes first- or did you forget again?” Damian asks with a bite. Upon the silence, he rolls his eyes and goes back to his meal with the exasperated sound of his breath hitting his tongue against his teeth. An audible ‘Tt’ sound.
“I didn’t forget, Damian,” Bruce clenches his jaw and grips his glass a little tighter. Does every family dinner have to turn into a fight? “You know I was with the-“ he catches himself, “Hn- that I had to-“
“-business calls… we’re well aware, Father. Perhaps you’ll do yourself a favor and won’t miss your other child’s birthday,” Damian finishes the conversation. “Not that I count on it.”
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Walking through the pool room, you’re focused on texting Daisha, intent on telling her the good news!
‘Omg you’ll never guess what just happened! I’ll ha-‘
Splash!
A dissatisfied exclamation escapes your lips as you stare at the wet stain on your shirt. “Really?! Dam-“ looking up from your drenched navy tank top, your eyes widen and lips part.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I thought you were Damian.”
You quickly take in the super-soaker and the boy’s apologetic expression, and it’s easy enough to put two and two together. As footsteps quietly click against the tiled floors of the locker rooms leading toward the pool deck, you grab the boy’s hand and drag him back the way he’d come around the corner. There lies a linen closet between the pool, laundry room, and stairwell. With a swift hand, you open the door and shove him in, following after as you quietly shut the door.
A bemused smile appears on his lips as his eyebrows furrow. “You’re his sister,” he whispers with certainty, “I’m Billy.”
Whispering back your name, he repeats it. Visibly eager on saying something else, you place your fingers on his lips to shut him up. He follows your eyesight, both of you staring through the slats in the closet door. With a keen ear, he gets the gist and remains quiet. As moments pass, you can feel the boy staring; curious, you meet his gaze only to find him searching your eyes. You can’t help but notice how pretty his are. Though you almost get swept up in admiring his features, you hear a faint creak only meters away; with a motion of your other hand, you beckon him to hand you the gun.
Transferred into your open hand, you slowly remove your fingers from his lips, cupping the barrel of the super-soaker while the other wraps around the handle, fingers ready at the trigger. With a head nod toward the door, you mouth the words: ‘On three! Ready?’
Billy seems to understand, as he holds his hands up in a ready stance to push open the doors. Together, you both mouth the countdown (which is really a count up, but anyway): ‘One… Two…’
“THREE!” Busting out of the closet, Damian is just a few feet from your right. It’s easy to spin and shoot as you’d been prepared, having watched him walk past the door together. Your brother had jumped, yet shot a few instinctive rounds of water, splashing both you, Billy, and the wall.
“القرف! What the hell! What are you doing here? Who let you play?” Damian curses, holding his gun in a stationary position once you’ve all recovered from the attack. His suspicious green eyes narrow as they dart between the two of you.
“I figured it was only fair since you didn’t let me know about your little game and I got caught in the crossfire,” you reason, pointing to your shirt with the gun.
“I accidentally shot her thinking I had you cornered, so…” Billy’s words die on his tongue. Without sparing the kid a glance, you shove the super-soaker back in his hands before offering him a grateful smile. At least you’d hit Damian once, you figure. With that, you’re more than happy to abandon the boys to their games as you walk toward the laundry room to see if your clothes are finished drying.
“You didn’t tell me she was my age!” You head Billy yell before a series of exclamations and curses follow with the sound of splashing water and rapidly receding footsteps.
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As stupid as it was to find your thoughts continuing to drift back toward a certain brown hair, green-eyed boy, you couldn’t help it. Though you’ve grown more tolerable of one another over the past few months, you still can’t believe that one of Damian’s friends is who’s on your mind. Nevertheless, fate would seem to have an amusing time linking the two of you together, constantly running into the other.
You suppose it isn’t strange after all, especially when considering he is one of Damian’s friends… however, you find him over the at Manor more and more often after the initial first time he’d quite literally bumped into you.
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“Grab me a juice box? I forgot one too—“ Damian’s voice echoes throughout the theatre as Billy yells back an affirmative answer and heads back toward the kitchen.
“Oh, hey-" You greet, backing up as a familiar figure exits the home theatre.
“Hey- what’s up?” Billy asks, a friendly smile gracing his lips.
"Was just gonna get a snack before we start," you tell him, "Guess we're headed the same way then," you tease. Walking down the hallway and up the stairs to the kitchen, you're aware of your brother's friend just a few steps behind.
“Are you gonna watch with us?” Billy asks hopefully.
“I mean, if that’s okay, yeah, I was planning on it." You respond, not thinking about it too much. After all, you want this popcorn to be good, not a burned pile of charcoal.
“Oh, I didn’t mea-“ Billy goes to correct himself.
“It’s fine. I’ll be down in a minute, I’m just making my own popcorn because the boys would eat it all otherwise,” you joke. Surely since he's friends with Damian he knows what the guys are like.
“That’s smart- that way you don’t have to share and keep passing it back and forth the whole time.” Billy adds on.
“Yeah. Do you want some? I can make another little packet,” You offer.
“Sure! I can do it though, you don’t have t-“ He argues.
“-I don’t mind! I've gotta wait for it anyway and grab some bowls. So I'll see you down there!" With that reassurance, Billy offers you one last smile before taking the juice boxes downstairs.
The older boys and your Father had insisted you pick the movie considering it's your first movie night with the family, and while most of them had been dreading what genre you'd pick, everyone ended up excited to watch a classic comedy most of them hadn't seen in years. Snuggled up under the fluffy blankets with your popcorn and the laughs of your brothers all around, you couldn't help but enjoy the fun.
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Most of the summer felt like it was spent in your room. Whether it was trying to explore the things that truly make you happy, or being lonely in a place that still feels entirely all too unfamiliar despite the fact that it's been a couple months.
The material things did help at first, the new environment, the little gifts your Father and brothers would treat you to, like those little Squishmallows you'd always seen and wanted at the store, but never bought yourself. They were more expensive than you'd ever thought to casually pay. Nevertheless, you've started to make your room truly your own. With decorating, personalizing, and getting into your own sort of routine, it seems that everyone has been slowly becoming used to this new lifestyle.
Alfred insisted that as summer begins to come to a close, you all decide on either making time for a vacation, or perhaps you and Damian get involved in extra curriculars. In the sake of preparation for school, you'd taken up driving lessons as you'll soon be old enough to begin the process of obtaining your permit. Then there was also the announcements from the school you'll be attending in the fall; with sports and clubs gearing up for homecoming, tryouts were coming up. Your Father had insisted that Damian consider a sport this year, and Alfred equally has been trying to push you in any sort of direction that'll lead to getting you out of the house and your room.
Needless to say, he wouldn't let go of the idea that your mental health could use less isolation and more friends, hobbies, and pursuance of your 'passions' even if you're not entirely sure what those are yet. It didn't take long for you to succumb to your butler (essentially) grandpa's badgering. Though you have a plan in mind for what sport you'll be trying out for, you haven't revealed them to the family. The way they seem to share everything is... still new, and somewhat unsettling to you.
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clambuoyance · 2 years
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Timkon but it’s that robstar moment from the teen titans show
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wolfjackle-creates · 7 months
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Tim Drake and 60 for the ask game!
Number 60: Truth Serum.
This is going to be DC only with no DP. Hope you all enjoy!
I tried something new here and wrote in an omniscient narrator. Hope it comes across okay. I want to practice more because it is a useful POV to write in and I've never really used it before. Not in anything polished, at least.
I'll be honest, this isn't your usual truth serum fic. Hope you all like it anyway!
Word count: 2k
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Tim glared at the person who held him captive. Gotham's newest rogue smiled at him as he held up a syringe. Dressed in a long, white lab coat with blue surgical gloves and black boots, he looked like a cartoon scientist.
"Thank you for coming to me, pet. I've finally perfected my serum and can't wait to make a birdie sing." Glee filled the man as he gloated at his prey. This was the night he’d been working towards for years.
"You'll never get anything from me." Tim finally twisted his hand to the proper angle to feel the edge of the razor blade hidden in his sleeve. They hadn’t bothered stripping him when they took his visible weapons and utility belt, much to Tim’s relief.
"Oh, once we get this in your system, we will!" The scientist laughed. "I've spent years on it, you know. And with it running through your veins, you'll answer all my questions!"
And then, before Tim could release the blade and slice through his ropes, the man jabbed the syringe into his neck. The solution burned going in and Tim grit his teeth against the pain.
The man laughed again. This was the best night of his life. "Now, we wait! Just a few minutes and you'll tell me exactly who Batman is. And the rest of your flock. And anything else I want to know."
Tim glared, but focused on sawing through the ropes without making his movements obvious.
Just as the rope split, he heard the sound of a distant explosion. Mad scientist man glared at Tim before speaking into a walkie. "What was that?"
Tim smirked and found himself answering, "My backup," before he could stop himself. Shit. He bit his cheek and launched himself out of the chair.
He punched the man hard, knocking him to the ground. He wanted to ask if there was an antidote or what side effects he could expect, but he couldn't give the man a chance to ask any questions. Instead, he slammed the man's head into the floor, knocking him out.
Maybe he could find a computer on the way out.
Another explosion sounded and Tim cursed under his breath. Nope, he didn't have time to look for information or computers or even the rest of his gear. He had to get out of here now before his family caught up.
On the other side of the warehouse, Jason laughed as he detonated another explosion. For once, Bruce wasn’t scolding him for the unnecessary force. And Dick even helped him set up the explosives. Over the comms, Barbara’s voice was cold as she told him where he would cause the most destruction.
“This guy’s a chemist,” she said. “He’s worked for Scarecrow in the past and he’s been collecting chemicals in large quantities for the past two months. Red Robin was trying to figure out what sort of concoctions he’s been developing, but hadn’t as of last night’s report.”
Damian snorted. “If he were competent, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Dick tsked at him. “That’s enough, baby bat. RR is plenty competent.”
Bruce cleared his throat. “Enough chatter. Oracle, where to next.”
“Go through the second door on your left. Wait, hold on.” More quietly, she said, “What are you doing RR?”
“What’s happened,” demanded Bruce.
“Based on his tracker, Red Robin has left the room he was held in. But instead of reuniting with you, he’s taken a path into the sewers.”
“I’ll follow RR,” said Dick. “The rest of you focus on taking these guys down.”
“Very well,” agreed Bruce. “Report in once you find him.”
“Will do, B!” Dick said as he turned and rushed back into the city, following Babs’ instructions.
Tim, meanwhile, sprinted through the sewers. He had a safe house nearby. He had a protocol for this and it didn’t involve being anywhere near his family. He didn’t look down as his boots splashed through the disgusting water. It wasn’t far now. Not ten minutes later, he was taking an exit into a retired subway station and climbing the fence to the streets.
Two more blocks, and he was on the fire escape and pushing open the window to his safe house. First thing he did was rush to the computer and turn it on. Two minutes later, he hit send on an SOS.
Scattered across the country, three people’s phones rang with an emergency signal.
Unfortunately for Tim, that was the moment Dick caught up to him as well. Tim heard the window open and a voice call out, “Red Robin?” Though really, calling out was a formality. Dick could tell Tim was in by the lights that were on.
“In the bedroom!” replied Tim before he could stop himself. Then he cursed. Apparently the serum would work even if the question wasn’t stated in full. He dove for the closet where he knew a pair of noise-canceling headphones sat. He slapped them on just as Dick entered the bedroom.
Dick relaxed as soon as he had eyes on his brother. “God, Tim. Don’t worry us like that! Why’d you run?”
But Tim was staring at him with wide eyes. “Because I was injected with a truth serum.” He slapped his hands over his mouth as soon as the words were out and closed his eyes tightly. Lip-read questions also counted apparently.
Dick froze. “What?” he asked.
But with his eyes closed and the headphones on, Tim couldn’t hear him. Dick reached out to touch Tim’s shoulder only to be tackled to the ground.
He had his escrima sticks in his hands and his thumb was over the button to electrify them when he recognized Impulse. “Impulse? What are you doing here?”
Tim wished he could see what Dick was doing, but he couldn’t risk seeing another question. He had too many secrets he was keeping from his family to trust himself around them.
Bart glanced at Tim who’d backed up until he was against the wall. “Rob messaged us with an incident CH3874G. And the protocols for that involve immediate extraction.”
“I’m his brother. I’m not going to hurt him!” Dick glared up at Impulse even as his thoughts were with his brother. Who’d refused to even look at him out of fear.
Bart shrugged. “Incident CH3874G means he is to have no contact with anyone other than myself, Superboy, or Wonder Girl until the effects wear off.”
“That’s ridiculous. We can take care of him just fine in the cave.” Dick twisted and managed to push Bart off, but he barely regained his footing before Bart was back pulling back his arms and holding him fast again. “Let me go!” he shouted.
And that moment was when Kon made his own way through the window. “Not gonna happen until we get Rob far away from Gotham. He doesn’t want any of you around him right now.”
“Seriously, what do you think I’m going to do to him?” protested Dick.
“Uh… Isn’t it obvious?” asked Bart. “You’re going to ask him questions. And there’s only five questions Tim will tolerate being asked when he’s under the influence of a truth serum.”
“What questions are those?” asked Dick.
Kon snorted. “If you don’t already know, then you don’t get to know.” He walked past Bart and Dick to stand in front of Tim. Kon blocked Dick’s vision enough that he couldn’t see Tim’s face.
Kon tapped a simple “hey” on Tim’s shoulder in Morse code. “Hey, Rob,” he repeated verbally when Tim opened his eyes.
Tim sagged against the wall in relief when he recongized Kon. And he caught a glimpse of Impulse behind him, too. Good, he’d be getting out of here. He hugged Kon tightly, shutting his eyes again so he wouldn’t be able to see Dick.
Kon chuckled and rubbed his back before pulling away. Making sure to enunciate clearly so Tim could read his lips, he said, “No questions until we get you to the designated place. Cassie’s meeting us there. Climb aboard the Super Express.”
Dick could only watch helplessly as his little brother was carried away into the night. “Why wouldn’t you let me help?”
Bart snorted. “Look, Nightwing, I like you. But I like Tim more. He’s my teammate. And he holds nothing so dear as his secrets. Be honest, would you or Batman or any of your friends and siblings let the chance to question him pass by? Would you let him keep his secrets?”
“Of course I would!” Dick insisted. But he knew his family. Bruce wouldn’t. Jason wouldn’t. Damian absolutely wouldn’t.
Bart snorted in disbelief. “Then maybe you should ask yourself why Tim doesn’t trust you enough to even ask.”
Dick glared at the wall, but didn’t have a retort.
“Now, this has been fun, but I’ve got a best friend to look after. We’ll return him once he’s better!” And Bart rushed off to join his friends. Tim would be trying to find a cure as soon as he had access to a computer, but Bart rather hoped it’d just have to wear off on it’s own. It had been too long since they’d gotten together for a movie marathon in a pillow fort.
--
In the end, Tim didn’t return to Gotham for three days. Three days over which Dick reconsidered every interaction he’d had with his brother, trying to figure out when he’d lost his trust.
He had to admit that stalking was practically a family love language, though. And Damian didn’t help the situation by loudly and often lamenting the lost opportunity to question Tim on anything and everything.
Bruce merely hummed when Dick reported on the situation. He was just glad his son had freed himself before spilling any family secrets and was currently safe with his own friends. Kon sent periodic updates to Clark who passed them onto Bruce, so he knew his son was safe. Nothing else mattered.
The moment Kon set down on the grounds of Wayne Manor with Tim, half the family rushed out to greet them.
“Tim,” said Bruce. “I’ll expect your report by the time we start patrol.”
Tim laughed, “You know, B, you could just ask me how I am. I’m fine, by the way. Truth serum wore off about twelve hours ago. It had a ridiculously long half life. But don’t worry, I’ve already got ideas for potential reversal agents.”
Before Bruce could reply, Dick was pulling Tim into a tight hug. “Glad to see you doing better, Timmy.” More quietly so only Tim and Kon could hear, he whispered, “And I’m sorry.”
Tim pulled away confused. “For what?”
Dick stared back, mouth agape. “I— because I tried to ask you questions?”
Tim laughed and shook his head. “No hard feelings. I would’ve done the same. That’s why I messaged the people I did.”
Damian sniffed. “It does raise the question of what secrets you are keeping from us.”
Tim shrugged and grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes and hummed. “Would you be willing to have lunch with just me, Tim? It’s been a long time since we had any one-on-one time.”
Tim swallowed. “Oh, uh, I should really write that report, don’t you think?”
Bruce chuckled. “I’ll let you skip it if you have lunch with me.”
Kon pretended he didn’t hear the quiet “fuck” Tim let out. “Well,” he said, “I think that’s my cue to leave. Catch you later, Tim!”
“Bye, Kon!” Tim hugged him quickly, then he was alone with his family. He sighed. “Fine, B. I’ll have lunch with you.”
He only hoped at least half his secrets would survive the meal.
-----
It's easiest to lie to Bruce when he doesn't suspect you're lying. When he knows and is actively trying to figure out what you're hiding? It's a lot harder.
So, I know truth serum implies secrets will be revealed, but I just couldn't believe that Tim didn't have a fail safe in place for one. And his friends are ride-or-die and would help him get away from The Batman if necessary. So they did.
Dick and Tim talk it out later and Dick gets added as a back up to any future Truth Serum incidents.
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tickletastic · 6 months
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Somersweet
Fandom: DC/Young Justice
Ship: Birdflash <333
Summary: A glimpse into Wally and Dick's teenage years; the first time Wally realizes why, even as a billionaire, Bruce refuses to give his son candy. Day sixteen of Miya and Mia’s Tickletober: sweets!
Wally has never really used his height against Dick. He’s always been taller, but he is also older, and speed was always more of his thing anyways. He was fine with Dick flipping through the air, cartwheeling down the halls of the Young Justice headquarters.
When Dick had suggested they go to Wayne Manor and steal some of the Halloween candy that Bruce had started stockpiling for the trick-or-treaters, Wally thought it was a great idea. Free candy and he gets to chill in a mansion? It was a done deal for him. 
It was all fun and games when he thought he and Dick would just steal some candy and watch a movie, before he realized that Dick rarely, if ever, eats candy. It seems like the Dark Knight goes all out for Halloween, but rarely lets his own kid have any sweets. Wally can see why.
Dick is practically bouncing off the walls, running around in circles in the screening room, begging Wally to let him put his costume on so he can fight crime, saying he feels it’s time to “break bones and take names.” 
Wally, despite really wanting to see what happens, tells Dick no, he is absolutely not leaving the room in the state he’s in. Dick pouts, and he does puppy dog eyes, and he begs, but Wally stands his ground. He finds it incredibly difficult, of course, he’s had a crush on his best friend for like three entire years, but his worry for Dick’s safety outweighs the cuteness of his puppy dog eyes. 
Dick instead takes to jumping across the room’s chairs and couches, doing somersaults and cartwheels, doing triple backflips and handsprings. Wally, with his ability to practically watch seconds tick by in front of him, is having difficulty keeping up with how quick Dick is moving around the room. 
“Walls, I am totally whelmed right now,” Dick says in the middle of a front flip off the couch, “like, absolutely, completely whelmed.”
Wally laughs, speeding over to stand next to Dick, “even if that were a word, I don’t think that's how you’d use it.”
“No, no,” Dick says, shaking his head while running towards another couch, “it totally would be. I made it up so I get to choose how it’s used. 
“That’s totally not how language works, dude,” Wally says before finally deciding it might be time to reel Dick in. His flips and tricks are cool, but Wally is seriously worried that the sugar rush is going to cause him to trip over himself, which would be bad news for both of them. 
Wally runs and grabs a blanket, wrapping it around Dick and bringing him over to one of the couches, all within the blink of an eye. Dick attempts to wrestle out of the blanket, but Wally continues to tangle him up in it. Eventually Dick manages to get completely covered, his body disappearing under the Superman themed throw blanket. 
“Wally, let me out!” Dick laughs, muffled by the fabric.
“No can do, bird brain, not until you’ve got a little less pep in your step.” 
Dick continues to struggle, arms flailing and poking out as he tries to reach for Wally to push him away. Wally, of course, has the benefit of sight, and decides to start grabbing Dick back. The two of them engage in this awkward, partially blind wrestling match for a minute or two before Wally grabs Dick and Dick recoils with a squawk, squirming under the blanket. 
Wally does it again, and this time it produces a giggle, Dick’s hands coming up to produce a barrier, though he still can’t see Wally’s next move. 
Wally makes a grab for Dick and manages to wrangle him into a hug, the human burrito now trapped in his arms, and he makes quick work of skittering his fingers wherever he can reach, getting a wheeze and high-pitched giggles from his best friend. 
“Wahahally nohoho!” Dick squeals, unable to struggle due to both the blanket and Wally’s arms trapping him. 
“Aww, does that tickle?” Wally asks when he starts rubbing his head into the crevice of Dick’s neck and shoulder, “Is someone’s neck ticklish? What about your ribs? Does this tickle?”
Dick shrieks, going limp against Wally and trying to figure out any possible way of escape. He hears when Wally decides to count his ribs, and he desperately tries to get out of the redhead’s grasp.
“Dickie, you gotta hold still,” Wally teases, “counting them from under the blanket is hard enough, if I lose count I’ll have to start over!”
Of course, Wally loses count about five times, each time starting a new round of tickling on Dick’s upper ribs, which gets him crying out through hysterics. 
“Aww, where does it tickle?” Wally asks when he’s ‘forced’ to restart again, “Does it tickle here?”
He goes back in to get Dick’s top rib, and Dick shrieks, begging for Wally to stop, promising that he’ll finally calm down.
When Wally feels as though Dick has been positively tickled silly, he finally stops, releasing his grasp on Dick, allowing him to fully reveal himself from under the blanket. 
Dick comes out with his hair a mess, curls falling in his eyes. His face is red and he has a huge smile plastered on his face, tears trickling from the corner of his eyes. He looks happy, and Wally thinks that he wants this to be the last thing he ever sees, Dick smiling at him, joy written across his face. 
Dick pants, throwing a fake glare Wally’s way, “you’re-”
Dick is interrupted when Wally leans in for a kiss, soft and timid, and it takes him a second before he even realizes, before he’s kissing back. 
When they pull away they’re both smiling, sharing identical, smitten looks. The fondness in Wally’s eyes, Dick realizes now, had always been there, he had just never taken notice. 
“Dude, I’m-”
“You’re whelmed, aren’t you?” Dick asks with a little smirk on his face.
Wally just rolls his eyes, going in for another kiss. 
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dahuntress · 10 months
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flamingpudding · 26 days
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Jason arguing with Dick: Fine! I am going to be honest then Dickwing!
Dick grinning like he already won the arguement: Aw Little Wing finally wants to be honest!
Tim walking by bored with a coffee in hand and eyes on his phone: He said going to, not that he wants to be...
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violentdick · 21 days
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-source: Batman 9 (1940) #9-
Weapon of choice: @rabu-kaa ,who said Dick is a human-shaped torpedo. Look no further for proof.
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total-drama-brainrot · 5 months
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Eva and Noah rely on each other to act as anchors against the crazy of their surroundings. Not just Izzy's shenanigans, but the daily chaos of Total Drama as a whole.
They help each other through overstimulation or social burnout frequently, especially during the later days on the Playa, since they're both relatively quiet and happy to share silent company. With the other around, they can trust someone else to play straightman to the others' over-the-top energies.
(They're both different flavours of autistic btw.)
As such, Noah can often be seen reading quietly in the Gym as Eva works out.
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no-empathy-culture-is · 10 months
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low empathy culture is trying really hard to not be an asshole
low empathy culture is
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johnnyutah · 6 months
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being attracted to men is so fucking stupid i just called this guy a mensch and he leaned in and said What was that? What did you say? and i said MENSCH and he said “MUNCH? Like the ice spice song?”.
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ghostdata · 8 months
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y’all tired of dick city yet?
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