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dickgraysonwayne · 25 days

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Effective Influence

Ao3

Summary: Robin deals with his first major in-team fight. Set early s1 in the Teen Titans cartoon verse.

@dickgraysonweek 2024, Day 1: Leader of the Titans | Dick’s Undervalued Competency | Spyral Crew

It’s the raised voices that really capture Robin’s attention.

He’s sitting on the couch, trying to get through a match of Mario Kart with Beast Boy (and getting his ass kicked, to be honest) when he hears the shouting, muffled, bang against the metal doors of the main room of Titans Tower.

“I’m not—”

“That’s not what I said! I didn’t say anything like that!”

Startled, he drops the controller onto the couch next to him, swerving off the track. Beast Boy, ears flicking in the direction of the doors, follows suit. Their character sit there, on the tracks, bobbing along as the console-run enemies zip past them into the top spots of the race.

Starfire, who had been floating near the back, watching the match in glee, had frozen mid twist in the air. She stares at Robin, eyes wide.

Usually, shouting in Titan’s Tower doesn’t tend to ring any alarm bells in his head. Despite it just being the five of them, they tend to make a lot of noise: between Cyborg and Beast Boy’s antics in themselves, coupled with Starfire’s rising tones when she gets excited, it’s rarely a quiet moment in the Tower.

The sounds can even get unfriendly, or aggressive, but that’s fairly normal too. Cyborg and Robin have a tendency to butt heads, and it can get a little too much at times. But they generally tend to get over it pretty quick, and a lot of it is in the spirit of competition anyway.

Which…Robin has never had that before, never had anyone around his age that he can compete with, stand toe-to-toe with as equals. It’s a nice feeling, especially after he realized exactly what it was.

Even Raven and Beast Boy will have their spats now and then, but it never really gets serious in any meaningful way: just some back and forth snipping until one of them just runs out of energy and lets the moment collapse back to normal.

But. This doesn’t sound like healthy competition, nor does it sound like friendly banter.

“Why would you say that—”

“Why would I—? You’re the one that—”

Beast Boy is off the couch in a flash, running towards the door and pressing his ear against it. “Dude,” He says, tone uncharacteristically serious. “What is going on out there?”

Starfire half drifts over to his direction, face twisted in concern. “It sounds like our friends our fighting,” She says, anxiously wringing her hands. “And the fight sounds like a bad one.”

Beast Boy lifts his head from the door. “What…what do we do?” He asks. “Do we like…do something? Do we stop them?”

As one, Beast Boy and Starfire turn to Robin.

“What—” Robin begins, and then remembers. Oh. I’m in charge.

He gets off the couch, making his way towards the door. “Um,” He says. “I guess let’s see if—”

The words are barely out of his mouth when the door hiss open, Beast Boy falling back and scuttling backwards with a yelp. “Hey, guys,” He says, all frantic-but-trying-to-be-casual. He leaps back up on the sofa, grabbing a controller upside down. “Nothing going on here, everything’s normal!”

Beast Boy’s act is horrible, but nobody comments. It’s like they don’t even notice.

Instead, the eyes of the rest of team are on Cyborg, who had just practically ran into the room, followed by Raven, floating after him quickly, hood casting a dark shadow over her face.

Cyborg is not wearing his usual large grin. Instead, he’s glowering, clearly furious. “Rob,” He says, “I am not going to work with someone who—”

“Calm. Down.” Raven interrupts, equally as explosive, in her own quietly dangerous way. “I never said—”

And it looks like they’re about to start yelling again as they glare daggers at each other. Robin can practically feel the electrical currents of anger buzz between them.

Starfire looks at him with big, watery eyes.

“Okay,” Robin says, cramming his voice with all the authority he can summon. “Stop shouting, okay? I can’t understand you if you keep talking over each other like that.”

The two fall silent, but still glare at each other.

“Uh, okay,” Robin says, glancing at the couch. “Go sit down there, and we’ll…discuss this, okay?”

Beats Boy yelps and scrambles out of the way as the two make their way over cautiously to the couch. He runs to stand by Starfire, who also stands a safe distance away from the chaos.

Robin waits until they’ve taken their seats, then stands in front of them both. “Okay,” He says, trying to buy time to figure out what to do next. “What happened?”

They both start talking at the same time, voices raised, words mixing together.

Robin raises a hand. “Okay,” He interrupts. “One at a time. Cyborg? You start.”

“Raven,” Cyborg says, giving her another glare. “Told me that I wasn’t human.”

Starfire gasps in the background.

“That’s not true,” Raven says through gritted teeth. “I didn’t say that. I just…I was telling him that I knew how it felt not to be human. That’s all. I didn’t mean he isn’t human.”

Robin looks at them. A beat of silence passes. Oh. My turn.

“Um,” He says, then turns back to Raven. “Did you say those words?”

“I—”

“Exact words?” Robin asks, scrambling to try to find a way to fix this. “That you think he doesn’t feel human.”

Raven is silent for a second, then says, “Yes. But that’s not what I meant at all. I was trying…I wanted to let him know that I get it. That’s all.”

Cyborg takes a breath, like he’s about to say something. Robin raises a hand, shakes his head. “It’s her turn,” He says. “Raven, what did you mean?”

“I meant,” Raven says. “That I get what it’s like to not feel like you belong cause you don’t look like everyone else, in a way that makes people think you aren’t human. That’s it.”

Robin turns to Cyborg. “I think there was a misunderstanding here,” He says, tapping a finger on his chin. “She was talking about the feeling of it, I guess, not calling you inhuman.”

“Still,” Cyborg says. “For me, that’s…I’m human, even if I look like a machine. And I don’t want to be friends with someone who thinks otherwise.”

Raven’s eyebrows pull together. Robin feels a chill in the air.

Oh boy. They’re about to get going again.

What do I do? Robin thinks frantically, digging through his mind for inspiration. How do I solve this?

An image pops into his mind: looking up at a cowl, eyes glaring at him underneath. You made a mistake. A chain of command is there for a reason. You follow that, or you’re benched.

He waves the thought away. That won’t work here.

Maybe…he needs to hear them both out. That’s the only way they might be able to get through this unscathed…

“Okay guys,” He says, approach decided. “Look. Clearly, there was a misunderstanding here. Cyborg, Raven hurt your feelings, and that’s clear. But, she clearly didn’t mean it. She didn’t know what that meant for you, right?”

Cyborg is silent for a moment, then sighs. “Right.” He says.

“And,” Robin feels compelled to add. “Look. We all know you, okay? We all know who you are, and you’re as human as anybody. But that’s not the be all end all either. We have non humans on this team too, and they’re people just as much as anyone.”

He sees Beast Boy pat Starfire on the shoulder in the background. She gives him a grateful smile.

Cyborg’s fists clench, then relax. He nods. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry, Star.”

“Oh,” Starfire says, surprised at being addressed. “I am not upset. Thank you for your apologies, though”

“Raven,” Robin says, turning to her next. “Cyborg didn’t understand your meaning, but the words you used hurt him, right?”

Raven nods. Her rigid countenance breaks a little as she darts a quick glance at Cyborg next to her.

“Okay,” Robin says. “So. We all made mistakes here. So I think we should just…apologize to each other and promise not to repeat our mistakes, right? Sound good?”

He winces inside. That felt so corny. He doesn’t know how they’ll take him seriously.

To his (concealed) surprised Cyborg nods. “Sorry, Raven,” He says. “I overreacted. Rob’s right. You didn’t mean anything by it.”

Beast Boy gives Robin a thumbs up and a wink in the background. Starfire copies him.

Robin resists the urge to twitch his eye. “How about you, Raven?”

“I’m sorry,” Raven says carefully. “That I hurt your feelings. I really didn’t mean to. But I understand where you’re coming from.”

“You too,” Cyborg says. “You’re a good friend, Ray.”

Beast Boy clearly can’t stay silent any longer. “Yes!” He cheers, leaping back towards the couch. “Great job, guys! And Robin! Okay, who wants to get back to our game now?”

Starfire claps politely. “Well done, my friends!”

Raven rolls her eyes. “Really?” She says, sarcasm dripping from her words. “You wanna game that bad?”

Beast Boy tosses a controller in Robin’s direction. “I wanna add to my winning streak!” He says cheerfully. “I’m on a win record against Rob.”

Robin sighs, dropping back on the couch. “How many wins is that now?”

“Eighty,” Beast Boy says cheerfully.

“To what?” Robin says, bracing himself.

“Four.”

“Dammit,” He sighs, readying the controller again.

Cyborg chuckles. “That’s just sad,” He says, plucking the controller out of Robin’s hands. “Let me show you how it’s done, fearless leader.”

“Hey!” Beast Boy squeaks. “No fair!”

“You better beat him,” Raven comments, sitting between them on the couch.

“Hey!” Beast Boy says again, indignant.

Robin takes his exit amongst the chaos: slowly navigating off the couch and making his way to the back of room. He observes the start of the game, a faint smile playing on his lips.

I did it, He thinks, a little awed.

“That was amazing, Robin.”

Robin fights off a blush. “Thanks, Star,” He says, giving her a small smile.

“No, really,” She says, keeping her voice low, ur excited. “You were wonderful! I know how difficult a position it is to be a leader, and how much it can weigh on your shoulders. You handled that very well and you should be very proud of yourself!”

A voice, half-remembered, whispers in his mind. Good job, chum. I’m proud of you.

Robin blinks. He doesn’t think anyone had ever called him chum before…

“It’s my job,” He tells Starfire instead, turning his attention back to the video game battle in front of him. “I…I only hope that I’m worthy of you all.”

“You are,” She says, laying a hand on his shoulder. It warms him up inside. “You are.”

#dickgraysonweek #teen titans #dick Grayson #Robin #Starfire #beast boy #cyborg #raven #speaks

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poseidont-even · 25 days

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It's @dickgraysonweek and I actually wrote something!

Day 1: Leader of the Titans | Dick’s Undervalued Competency | Spyral Crew

Tim was getting ready for patrol when Dick emerged from the lift. He was standing better. His shoulders were even and he wasn't favouring his ribs like he'd been the last time Bruce had seen him. He always made good time on physical recovery.

But then, coming out of a weeklong coma had other complications.

Dick grinned at him, “Hey B.”

#dickgraysonweek2024 #dick grayson #bruce wayne #joey wilson #dickjoey #nightwing

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nonagesimus · 25 days

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fic: turncoat (1/3)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Tiger, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne Characters: Dick Grayson, Tiger (DCU), Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Helena Bertinelli Additional Tags: Comic: Grayson (2014), Spyral (DCU), Identity Porn Series: Part 1 of Dick Grayson Week 2024 Summary:

Dick didn’t know how he felt about doing a job in Gotham.

Honestly, it had been a surprise he’d even been assigned to it; he would’ve thought he’d be considered too close. Too likely to be compromised. Which would’ve been an incorrect assumption—he knew he had a job and he knew what he had to sacrifice to do it—but a credible one. The familiar skyline made the usual pre-mission jitters worse. If he hadn’t been in a car he would’ve been pacing; instead his heel beat a rapid rhythm into the footwell.

“Stop,” Tiger said. He was driving, even though Dick would know the streets better.

“No,” Dick said. He managed to keep his voice serene, at least. He was trying to keep his attention on his tablet, like not looking would make the familiarity go away.

—

Day 1 of @dickgraysonweek: Leader of the Titans | Dick’s Undervalued Competency | Spyral Crew

#dc fic #batfam fic #dick grayson #tiger dc #nightwing #spyral #my fic

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jontheredrc · 2 years

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a list of my OCs, and their roles and decks in my Yu-Gi-Oh! AU

Lyla Brangwyn: North Academy student, Gradius deck

“Vic”: Duel Spirit of “Gradius’ Option”, follows Lyla around

Aaron Burton: Lyla’s brother, engineering major, Watt deck

Alyce Brangwyn: Lyla’s mother, news anchor, Naturia deck

Greg “Grizz” Lee: Lyla’s father, steel mill repairman, Machina deck

Dorothy Engleton: Lyla’s BFF, Duel Academy student, Flint Lock loop deck

Anna Lee: Lyla’s shitty aunt, weapons R&D, B.E.S. deck

“Ace”: Duel Spirit of “Warrior Lady of the Wasteland”

Kyrinna Strauss: weapons CEO, Anna’s boss, doesn’t play Duel Monsters

(she would probably just shoot you instead of duel you)

Cydia Myssil: North Academy faculty, copy deck

(Cloning/Copycat/etc? please tell me more cards like this if you know any aslkjfsgh)

Samson Rayearth: Anna’s bodyguard, SPYRAL deck

Steve Bennett: welder, Grizz’s coworker, Goblin deck

OCs I haven’t gotten around to thinking about as much yet (or maybe they’re just in a different “era” entirely idk I’m still relatively new to YGO)

Zeltencia von Trepe: luchador, Dinomorphia deck

Nicole Ellery: luchador, Zeltencia’s tag partner, Draconia deck

Elaine Gustav: mysterious vagrant, Yata-Garasu (”Yata-Lock”) deck

Ciel Letrush: anthropologist, Floowandereeze deck

Eyron Clipeus: cop, Ally of Justice deck

(you can tell he’s a prick because he uses DNA Transplant to make all monsters LIGHT)

Eulipha Alpidt: spelunker, Danger! deck

Atsuko Shimazaki: pro Turbo Duelist, Mecha Phantom Beast deck

Hannah Falke: Duel Runner mechanic, chief of Atsuko’s pit crew, (not Mecha) Phantom Beast deck

#my ygo au #have you seen the yata lock tho? that's some sadistic stuff #there's at least one video game programmed to surrender to it outright lmao

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browniesarethebest · 2 years

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hi! i have two made up fic titles, use either or as you wish:

“little lost child, what’s your baggage”

“did you give up on trying (or were you born to lose)”

I'll do both of them!

For the first one, I'm gonna change fandoms for a moment because I would totally write a Tarsus IV fic with 2009!era Jim Kirk. Because I'm me, he probably gets de-aged to Tarsus era or right after and the crew gets to see how fucked up he is from his experience (and probably shitty childhood before Tarsus).

For the second one, I would probably write a fic about all of Dick's trauma coming to light. Everything with Slade threatening his friends so he could be his apprentice, being fired as Robin, Tarantula and Blockbuster, Mirage, Spyral, and everything else. Maybe he just reaches his breaking point. Or maybe a spell (love me some magic) causes him to get trapped in his worst memories and the Batfamily have to go in and rescue him and see all his trauma.

#ask #anon #send me a made up title and i'll tell you what it would be about #One of these days I might actually write a star trek fic #I have one in the works but I got writer's block

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cruisercrusher · 4 years

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Dicktiger week day 7- Free Day/Au (prince of sea, prince of shore)

Tiger scoffed as he watched the merchant’s crew surrender before the fight could even really get going. He held his sword to the neck of the merchant who owned the ship, trembling on his knees before Tiger. The Tiger of Kandahar, though he was not the captain of the infamous pirate ship Spyral, only quartermaster to Captain Black-Eyed Bertellini— his reputation as a fearsome and merciless pirate still preceded him. The disgraced knight, the great warrior— no matter what people thought of him as, sailors all over the seas had nightmares about the cruel swing of his blade.

They hadn’t even put up a fight. It was disappointing.

Helena smirked down at the quivering merchant as she strolled over to them, her heavy buckled boots stomping on the deck of the great galleon they’d just captured.

“Everything on this ship, everything you own, now belongs to me.” She declared, looking down her nose at the merchant. “All your treasures, your life and the lives of your crew— mine to do with as I see fit.”

The merchant said nothing, fear seized his tongue. Helena sneered at him.

“Tiger,” she ordered, “Throw this wet bellied pig overboard.”

Then she walked off to the hold to review their plunder, and Tiger grabbed the merchant by his ruffled collar and dragged him to the edge of the ship.

“Wait, wait!” He cried, suddenly finding his voice. “Please don’t— spare me! Have mercy!”

Tiger lifted the man up with ease, dangling him over the swirling inky waters below. The merchant continued to babble, scrabbling at Tiger’s arm, trying to hold on.

“I’ll make you a trade! Please, I’m begging you— my greatest treasure, my most valuable possession, I spent a fortune on it, it’s beautiful, mesmerizing even— it’s yours, all yours, if you let me live.”

Tiger raised an eyebrow at him. “And where is this treasure?”

“Locked away in my cabin. Only I have the key. I’ll give it to you if you let me go.”

“Fool.” Tiger smirked. “It will be mine regardless.”

And with that he let go, dropping the screaming merchant down into the sea. He fell in the water with a splash, his head re-appearing above the surface once, twice, before he bobbed down and did not come back up.

Not one thread of remorse tugged at Tiger’s heart as he walked to the captain’s cabin, whistling a little on his way down the stairs. This sort of thing was normal for him. Killing, stealing... that was simply what his life had become. He did not regret it-- he couldn't.

If Tiger ever let himself regret, he knew it would consume him. His mistakes were irreparable.

The door was locked, as the merchant said it would be, but Tiger was far from discouraged. He aimed a mighty kick at the door and it collapsed with a bang, falling into the room in splintered pieces. He walked into the room, feeling quite satisfied with himself. He only made it maybe about two steps before he stopped dead and the feeling dropped, as he spotted what could have only been what the merchant meant as his greatest treasure.

In the middle of the room sat a small glass box, with no top and filled with water. Sitting inside, scrunched up and visibly uncomfortable in his confines, was a merman.

Tiger could do nothing but stare. The merman was looking at him with wide, shocked eyes, eyes that were an unnaturally bright shade of blue, shining even in the dim light of the captain’s cabin. The top of the glass box came up to just under his arms, which were draped over and holding on to the edge of the case. His hair was sleek and black like coal and curled around the base of his skull and his pointed ears, which looked as though they’d at one point had many piercings in them, though the merman wore no jewelry.

He was also covered in bruises, cuts, and scrapes along the back of his arms, his torso and gilled neck. Two nasty looking bruises marred his face at the right corner of his mouth and just underneath his left eye. What looked like rope burns criss-crossed his otherwise smooth, cinnamon-brown skin, and there were places on his tail, curled up and stuffed in the box as it was, where it looked like some of his scales had been torn off, leaving patches of swollen red muscle exposed. That, and the pain clear in the merman’s eyes, made it all a terrible sight, and Tiger felt sick to think that the merchant’s most valuable possession was a sentient, living being obviously kept here against his will.

He was glad he’d killed him.

Suddenly the merman extended a hand to him, reaching out as far as he could from the glass case, and Tiger nearly jumped back in surprise.

“Can you help me?” said the merman, and Tiger was taken aback by how clear and strong his voice was, contrary to his posture. “Please, help me.”

Tiger stood frozen in place. The merman leaned out of the case, reaching harder towards him, extending his arm as far as it could go. “Please.” There was an almost desperate edge to the word. Something in the merman’s eyes drew Tiger forward, as if in a trance. He approached the case, and the merman grabbed him by the hand, tugging him closer. Tiger was pretty sure he himself was still in a state of shock as he was pulled down to his knees on the floor next to the merman.

Of course, he knew, in theory, that merpeople existed, but he had never seen one before, even in all his years at sea. They hardly ever came up to the surface. Rare, elusive creatures, merpeople were.

“How did you get here?” Tiger asked. The merman looked away as if in shame.

“I... was exploring, too close to the shore. I got caught in a fisherman’s net and I tried to get away but-- then the fisherman brought me onto land and sold me to the man who owns this ship. And now I’m so far from home, and I don’t know how to get back, I don’t think I could make the trip on my own anyway, injured as I am…” The merman looked at him again imploringly. “Please, help me get back to my family. I can promise you a great reward if you do.”

Tiger regarded the merman curiously. “What kind of reward?”

“Riches beyond your wildest dreams,” Said the merman, looking Tiger in the eye, in such a way that Tiger couldn’t help but believe him. “My father is a king, and I am his eldest son. He will pay you so handsomely if you were to bring me home.”

Tiger’s eyebrows raised. This merman was a prince? Then helping him really would be in Tiger’s best interest.

“Alright, I will help you.” He said, and the merman’s face lit up with a smile. “Where is your home?”

“West, very far west.” The merman squeezed Tiger’s hand. “It is quite the journey. Thank you.”

Tiger frowned at his expression of gratitude. “I have not helped you yet.”

The merman smiled at him. “True.” He said. “Why don’t you start by getting me out of this damn box?”

He lifted his arms up in a way that made Tiger think of a small child demanding to be carried. He huffed, grabbing the merman under his arms and lifting him up into the air. Tiger let out an involuntary wheeze. The merman was far heavier than he had expected him to be— and he even had the audacity to snicker at Tiger’s struggle.

“What’s your name?” The merman said, unbothered as he flopped about while Tiger struggled to lift and get a proper hold on him-- not only was he heavy, he was slippery too. He wrapped his arms around Tiger’s neck.

“Tiger.” Tiger grunted. The merman smiled.

“My name is Dick.”

Tiger hefted Dick up so the merman’s torso was draped over his shoulders like a fine scarf, his tail looped loosely around his arm and hanging down towards the floor, but not dragging. He mumbled an apology when Dick hissed in pain at the sudden pressure on his bruised ribs.

He started walking towards the door now that he was balanced properly, but Dick stopped him.

“Wait,” he said, pointing at an ornate coffer on the desk. “My crown.”

Tiger redirected his steps to the desk. He clicked the coffer open, and Dick reached down to retrieve it contents.

First he pulled out a pair of earrings— three fat, shimmering blue pearls (Tiger didn’t know pearls could be that colour, or size, but maybe it was a bottom-of-the-ocean thing) on a sharp hook that he put carefully through the holes in his earlobes.

Next was a long, complicated, looping strand of pearls that matched the earrings. Tiger didn’t find out what they were for, because instead of putting them on Dick handed the tangled strand to Tiger, who shoved it in his pocket.

Last was a crown unlike any Tiger had seen or heard of before. It looked like thin, twining vines made of pure gold, decorated in some of the empty spaces between with smaller versions of the rest of the merman’s pearls. It was magnificent, and Tiger was sure, then, that Dick would make good on his promise of a reward.

They left that evening. Tiger told Helena what he had to do, and she gave him her blessing to go on the journey with a twinkle in her eye that Tiger could not explain if he tried. Unfortunately Helena-- and her ship-- were going in the opposite direction Dick and Tiger wanted, so Tiger placed the merman in a lifeboat, poured only just enough water into the bottom to keep Dick from drying out, and off they went.

Dick could not simply swim across the ocean, just as Tiger could not simply walk across Asia, especially not injured. So Tiger planned to make their way to the coast, claim a ship for their own by whatever means they deemed fit, one large enough to safely sail across the Atlantic, and get to Dick’s home that way.

“Does the salt not hurt you?” Tiger asked in the middle of his rowing (he would have made Dick row as well, so he wouldn’t have to do all the work himself, if not for the fact that Dick did not have the limbs necessary to brace himself in the boat to do so). Dick looked up from where he was trailing his arm along in the water, feeling the current as their little lifeboat moved through the blessedly calm waves.

“What do you mean?” He said.

“The salt of the water, in your cuts. Doesn’t it hurt?”

Dick frowned at him. “No? Why? Does salt hurt humans?”

“Of course. It stings wickedly, when it gets in an open wound.”

Dick hummed, considering this. “Humans are very strange.”

Tiger scoffed. Perhaps that was true, and the human body was, in fact, quite strange, but Tiger didn’t think it could be any stranger than that of a merperson. He did not voice that thought, though, only continued to row through the small waves. Dick turned his attention back down to the water, watching it ripple around his arm. He leaned down to rest his chin on the back of his hand on the edge of the boat. He had a serene look on his face, like all his troubles had disappeared with his newfound proximity to the ocean.

Tiger was not as happy about it. He’d discovered within seconds that the water they’d placed in the bottom of the boat would very quickly soak through his boots, and so he was barefoot, feet wet. At least this lifeboat had seats, so he was not soaking his pants as well.

It was while the sun was starting to set and he was starting to feel the ache in his arms that it fully struck Tiger just how much he was doing for this strange creature he’d just met.

The thought came to him along with a strong sense of unease. While Tiger had never met a merperson before that day, he had heard plenty, including stories of merpeople putting sailors under spells, luring them to a watery death with their sweet voices and wicked smiles. Could this merman have put Tiger under his will?

But no, Tiger shook the notion away almost as soon as it occurred to him. He was just being paranoid.

If Dick had wanted to drown him, he’d had ample time to do it already.

But still, Tiger thought as he eyed the curve of Dick’s spine and the way his full, soft-looking lips parted slightly around a quiet sigh, maybe there was another reason he was so eager to help him. Aside from the promise of a reward, that is. He felt his gaze wander as if of its own accord across the merman’s figure, lingering, examining the way the setting sun reflected off Dick’s eyes, and glinted on the pearls draped over his body. (He found out what that other mess of pearls was for-- it was almost like a necklace, with strands that hung around his neck, shoulders and torso, and connected at various places, including over his sternum, the nape of his neck, and the small of his back.)

Tiger would have to be completely blind not to notice Dick’s beauty, regardless of his injuries. He could almost understand why the merchant had wanted to put him on display-- but as soon as the thought occurred to him he banished it, a dark feeling coiling in his gut at the prospect of relating on any level to the scum that had kept this person, prefix of mer irrelevant, captive. He redoubled his rowing efforts as if he could run from the shame, and kept his eyes from then on fixed on the horizon.

He thought of Dick’s injuries-- and did not look-- and felt sick at the idea of objectifying him like the ones who had done that to him had.

Though if he had looked, he would have noticed Dick’s expression change, so his smile was no longer directed at the waters below him but somewhere farther than that, his focus on the man in the boat with him, and a delighted little dusting of a blush appearing on his cheeks.

#dicktigerweek2020 #dicktigerweek #dicktiger #dick grayson #tiger king of kandahar #mer au #writing #my writing #fic #my fic #dc #dc comics

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wondertwinsenthusiast · 27 days

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The urge to draw the spyral crew (tiger, dick, helena) as this meme for day one of dick grayson week....

Do i do this yall.

#spyral #spyral crew #dick grayson #tiger king of kandahar #tigerdick #dicktiger #helena bertinelli #agent 37 #nightwing

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scandalsavagefanfic · 4 years

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Hello! I would like to ask all the numbers for back to the bleed, but if thats too much i will be happy with 2 and 5. Pretty please and thanks 💜

Oh what the hell, lets do them all. I’m just waiting for a plane anyway.

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

I planned on writing a different sequel (which I’m still going to do) that followed the comics path more closely. After Countdown, Flashpoint happened and folded the WildStorm verse into the main continuity. Apollo and Midnighter remember the time with Jason and when they break up, with nothing better to do, they kind of go looking for him to see how he’s doing. Obviously Midnighter finds Dick working with Spyral instead. But Apollo does find Jason (because that’s awesome juxtaposition and it should have happened in the comics...) and then the Red Hood & Arsenal bit from DC YOU doesn’t happen.

Anywho, Return to the Bleed - Jason having powers and returning to the WildStorm verse - was because of comments on Into the Bleed and Hate’s Such a Strong Word.

2: What scene did you first put down?

I pretty much always write from beginning to end. There are a few exceptions but this isn’t one of them. The first scene I wrote is the first one you see 😊

3: What's your favorite line of narration?

As he watches Bruce tell him, again, how inadequate he has always been--from beyond the grave this time--he tries to harden himself against the way his heart shatters.

Or maybe:

When was the last time someone didn’t try to tell him how broken he was?

4: What's your favorite line of dialogue?

Easy...

“I don’t like it when you treat me like I’m fragile,” the superpowered, invulnerable, sun god objects, “There’s no need to be so delicate with your words. Just say what you have to say, and do it straight

“Fuck that. I don’t do anything straight,” Midnighter jokes.

5: What part was hardest to write?

So far? The second half of chapter two.

I wanted them to fuck. They insisted on talking 😔

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

Um... probably M and Apollo. I love those guys. It’s crazy how much more affection and emotional intelligence they’re capable of compared to the Bats. Frankly, Jason isn’t the only one who would benefit from a relationship with one or both of them (platonic or otherwise).

I forget which part it was in but I described Apollo as the world’s deadliest teddy bear and, even though Midnighter hides it better, the same goes for him. Juxtaposing them with the no-kill-ever Batfam is crazy. Because these two are unapologetic killers of the worst of the worst and part of the reason they aren’t bothered by those lengths is their insane amounts of empathy. Next to them the Bats look like self righteous jerks who place more weight on their rule than actually protecting people.

7: Where did the title come from?

Well, Into the Bleed came from the WildStorm verse’s term for the inbetween space contecting different universes. It’s the Bleed that the Countdown crew were using to travel between worlds.

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

Nope.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

None written. Yet. There’s going to be an alt ending fic. See #1

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

Because it’s a sequel to the first fic with this pairing lol. But I picked Midnighter/Apollo/Jason initially because they meet in a Countdown tie-in and I wanted to see them interact more given that The Authority isn’t shy about killing villains and that exact trait is what makes Jason an outcast in his own family.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

Getting Jason some much needed validation from people who understand him and don’t think that he’s a bad person.

12: What do you like least about this fic?

The superpower. It’s fun and WildStorn operates differently than the main superhero verse and I don’t think any of the Bats could run with The Authority and the the shit they face and survive long without a power.

I just keep waffling on how I want it to work.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn't listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

I listen to the Hozier station on Pandora.

Except, oh, the last month or so. I’ve had the BoP soundtrack on repeat nonstop since I bought it.

I’m not even joking. I don’t know how it hasn’t gotten old yet.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

Not really?

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

That I love the dynamic between Jason and Midnighter and Apollo 😂

#ask meme #Return to the Bleed #all questions #jason todd #midnighter #apollo

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