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nerdpoe · 10 months

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Three Vigilantes and a Pile of Parenting Books Part 3

Part 1, Part 2, Ao3

Tim had a first row seat to watch Dick’s mental crisis.

He could hardly blame the man; not only did he have a kid, but one of his brothers had shot said kid.

Now the kid was sleeping on a cot in the medbay, drugged up to his eyeballs, and it looked like Dick couldn’t bring himself to let go of the kid’s hand.

Jason was still ah…talking to Alfred. Tim wasn’t going to interfere with that at all.

Barbara’s kid was on Dick’s kid’s other side, and absolutely refused to move.

The other two kids had fallen asleep from all the stress, and Jason had had just enough time to set them up on the cot opposite their friend’s before he’d been whisked away by Alfred.

Tim made his way over to Bruce, who was pouring over his own DNA tests.

“Is this a bad time to congratulate you on being a grandfather?”

“Yes.”

Tim casually not-casually leaned over Bruce’s shoulder to look at the screen.

“Can I ask why-holy shit. Really? And we’re sure it didn’t like, misread anything?” Tim asked quietly, glancing back at Dick.

Dick only had eyes for his kid, though, and apparently was too lost in his own head to pay attention.

“Positive, I’ve run it thirty-two times,” Bruce muttered, covering his mouth with one hand while the other ordered the computer to run the kid’s DNA again.

“...B, I don’t think it’s gonna change,” Tim sighed, running a hand through his hair, “What about the girl? What’s her’s sa-oh. Uh. I don’t know if that’s worse or better than Dick’s co-parent.”

Bruce took off his cowl and scrubbed at his face with his hands.

“I suppose I will have to let them know.”

“And the other two?”

Bruce tapped at something and brought up their files, motioning listlessly at the screen.

There were absolutely no DNA matches anywhere, at all. Most likely they were either bought from a Human Trafficker or sold off by their parents, then. Definitely human, though; no hero DNA in them anywhere.

Which was honestly a bit of a surprise; given the girl’s viciousness Tim had been assuming she was Jason’s kid.

Bruce let out a muffled sigh and started drafting letters to send out to Barbara and Dick’s co-parents.

~~~~~~

John Constantine pulled himself from sleep, lulled by the incessant ringing of his alarm.

It was his noon alarm, so he knew he’d already slept well into the afternoon.

Refusing to leave the comfort of his blankets, he tugged the phone over and checked his notifications.

And fuck him, there was one from the Batman himself, marked as urgent.

John put the phone down, intent on ignoring it.

The phone pinged.

It was a text.

Broody McFuckFace Constantine, I know you’re up. Read the email.

John whined and opened the email.

And sat up.

Dropped his phone.

Scrambled on all fours to the liquor cabinet.

Turned back to get the phone to reread the email and tripped over his own feet.

And once he’d confirmed that he hadn’t misread or hallucinated any of the contents, he ordered the House of Mysteries to the most remote location it could possibly go.

He wasn’t getting another kid killed just for being related to him, he refused. He’d be the bad guy, he’d be the deadbeat dad, but he refused to be the reason his son….

Bloody buggering…his son. His son. He had a son.

He could never, ever see the kid.

Fuck.

Constantine took a swig of whatever he’d picked up and curled between his bed and his wall.

~~~~~~

Constantine. A child was found in an experimental facility that could not nail down Cloning, and instead resorted to just making children from heroes. They were utilizing the technology to age them quicker. Your DNA was used alongside Nightwing’s to create a boy. You have a son, he appears to be around six years old. Please respond with how you intend to proceed, as Nightwing has already accepted full parental responsibilities in your absence. Batman.

~~~~~~

Baatman I wnt nothin to do wit th kid fuck off Constannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

~~~~~~

Diana was rather enjoying her quiet afternoon, sitting at a cafe in France and sipping on coffee while reading the news on her phone.

It was nice to catch a break between hero-ing and being a Princess, and it happened so rarely, too.

Then a notification popped up on her phone.

Oh, it was from Bruce!

Diana opened it eagerly, reading the contents as quickly as she could.

Diana read them again.

Diana dropped her coffee.

Diana stood up in awe as the French Patrons around her looked dismayed at the waste of coffee.

“I…” Diana whispered, and the patrons winced, anticipating bad news from the woman acting so strangely, “I have a daughter!”

The patrons who could speak English gasped in polite surprise and started applauding.

Diana paid them no mind and slapped money on the table before darting out of the cafe; she was going to Gotham whether Bruce invited her or not.

She had a daughter!

She!

A daughter!

She would work out custody with Oracle, but first!

She had a daughter to see!

~~~~~~

Wonder Woman. A child was found in an experimental facility that could not nail down Cloning, and instead resorted to just making children from heroes. They were utilizing the technology to age them quicker. Your DNA was used alongside Oracle’s to create a girl. You have a daughter, she appears to be around ten years old. Please respond with how you intend to proceed, as Oracle has already accepted full parental responsibilities in your absence. Batman.

~~~~~~

Batman. I am six hours out, and am utilizing the jet for maximum speed. I trust you will be ready for my arrival. I look forward to co-parenting with Oracle! Wonder Woman

~~~~~

Dick watched the rise and fall of his son’s tiny chest, and held his tiny hand, and reached out to brush his fluffy hair out of his tiny, scrunched up face. He’d almost forgotten how small kids could be.

Well, he’d always known, but it was different seeing some random kid on the street and then holding his own kid’s hand.

He was so small!

Dick could not, would not, let anything happen to him.

He knew Bruce was doing something in the background, that he was trying to find who his co-parent was, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to it.

“His name is Danny,” Barbara’s kid said suddenly, glaring at him.

Dick really, really hoped that the scientists hadn’t been the ones to name him. But if that was what he responded to, if he had no problems with it, then that was his name until he said otherwise.

Dick just smiled at her instead of saying any of that, however.

“Okay. And what’s yours?”

“Jazz. Why d’you keep touching him?”

The little girl-Jazz-looked like she was three seconds away from trying to break Dick’s hands herself.

“Because…I’m just happy he’s alive, I guess,” Dick hummed, smoothing back the unruly hair again.

“Why? You don’ know him, an’ he doesn’ know you, he woulda tol’ me if he did.”

Dick felt his smile fade a bit.

“I know. But when he wakes up, I’m hoping he’ll like me enough to stick around and learn who I am.”

Jazz opened her mouth, presumably to argue that he still hadn’t explained why he cared about a kid he didn’t know, when Tim let out one of the most vicious swear-streaks he’d ever heard his little brother go off on.

Dick turned slightly to look at what was going on, and was surprised to see Bruce’s body language transcend rage as the man stalked off to the gym.

Tim had taken over the computer and was practically stabbing at the keyboard with his fingers.

“Fuck him, then! Who needs him! We’ll be fine without him! I can babysit, B can babysit, I bet Diana would be fucking thrilled to have the chance to watch him! I bet he’s a goddamn treasure to be around! Unlike you, you rancid useless piece of shit-!” Tim cut himself off and slammed his butt into the chair, working furiously on the computer.

Dick flinched and turned back to Danny.

Apparently, the co-parent wanted nothing to do with the situation as a whole.

He could understand, he could.

They hadn’t asked for a kid, and suddenly there was one with no prior warning whatsoever.

And yeah, Dick got that. He knew that the response wasn’t out of the ordinary, and that he should probably call off Tim.

However, he kinda felt…offended.

Whoever his co-parent was, they hadn’t even seen Danny. They were just throwing away the opportunity without even looking at him.

So Dick held his tongue and let Tim loose.

~~~~~~

Barbara wheeled in, and paused to take in the situation.

Tim was doing something with the computer, and from his expression someone was about to have a very bad life.

Bruce was punching things to deal with his emotions.

Jason was standing in front of Alfred, head bowed and what looked like tears in his eyes as the older man spoke to him in hushed tones.

Damian left her side and wandered to Tim, presumably to find out what he was doing.

Barbara made her way to her own kid.

And stopped once she was in full view of the tyke.

That…was definitely her kid. The hair, the nose…although, the eyes were a little too blue to come from her.

But that was a little, tiny kid.

That was her daughter, old enough to have meant that as far as the papers Barbara was going to doctor were going to be concerned, she had been a teen mom.

Barbara really, really hoped that her co-parent would be willing to step in.

The little girl was watching her, wary.

Good.

Suspicion would keep her alive in a city like Gotham.

Barbara finished the journey to Dick’s side and held out her hand to her daughter.

“My name is Barbara, and according to DNA, I’m your mom,” she heard Dick start to protest her rather blunt approach, but her daughter nodded and took the hand offered.

“I’m Jazz, that’s Danny,” she said quietly, blinking rapidly.

Barbara nodded, leaning back in her chair. Jazz rubbed furiously at her eyes and blinked away what looked like tears, chubby cheeks turning red with frustration, and her expression just got more furious with each tear that managed to get past her hands.

Oh yeah. She knew what that meant.

Jazz needed a nap.

“Alright Jazz,” Barbara started, wheeling closer to her, “I need someone with good ears. You got those?”

Jazz glared at her and nodded suspiciously.

“Good. You’re gonna have to sit in my lap for it, but I think one of the servos in my chair is starting to grind against its surroundings, so there’s really not another spot for you to listen for that.”

Jazz cautiously stood from her chair and made her way over.

Good, even if the kid didn’t trust her, kids always wanted to feel like they were helping. Well, Barbara had when she’d been that age.

Once Jazz was in her lap and had settled down to focus on listening to the mechanics of Barbara’s chair, it took a grand total of two minutes for the kid to knock out.

Dick was staring at her in awe.

“Moving on,” Barbara said quietly, running a hand up and down Jazz’s back, “What’s the news regarding our co-parents?”

Dick shrugged.

“Mine apparently sent a reply that pissed everyone off too much to tell me who it even is, which meant that they may not have read the response from yours.”

Barbara frowned and pulled out her phone to see for herself.

She paused long enough to feel slightly amazed at Constantine’s vitriolic response, before shoving it aside and just reporting her findings.

“So my co-parent is Diana, who is on her way to meet Jazz. Looks like we’ll have to come to a parenting agreement, since she wants in. Your co-parent is Constantine, and he uh…he has waived any parental rights.”

Dick looked surprised at the mention of Constantine and looked back at his kid.

“Oh yeah, I can kinda see it…”

Barbara pocketed her phone and reached over to place a hand on Dick’s shoulder.

“We’re here to help you, Dick. Just remember that.”

~~~~~~

Across the world, multiple law enforcement agencies were suddenly alerted to the existence of John Constantine as a wanted international man for fraud across country borders.

Alongside the evidence backing that, there was a generous gift of a facial recognition program with a sophistication the likes of which they hadn’t seen before.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #three vigilantes and a pile of parenting books #phanfic

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nighttime-thoughts · 1 month

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So i'll watch your life in pictures like i used to watch you sleep

and i feel you forget me like i used to feel you breathe

and i'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are

hope its nice where you are.

Last Kiss - Taylor Swift

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essektheylyss · 9 months

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Funniest concept is everyone who manages a broken teleportation circle in Wildemount taking the solstice as an opportunity to change their security codes circle sigils purely to be free of the threat of a bunch of weirdos who don't know how to call ahead dropping in unannounced

#critical role #the vellum steeple like at last. the evil is defeated.#the Nein really did NOT do their best work in uthodurn lmfao. they were VERY funny but.#really showed up. caused a scene. vandalized books. stole magic. killed random guards in one blow. have the vigilante hero a moral crisis.#iconic frankly. but also NOT their most subtle of weekend trips.

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jaywrites101 · 2 years

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So, we got your feedback

When I Blazed the advertisement post for my book The Wingman, I got a lot of positive feedback: from the black mc, to the fresh idea of following a homeless man who stays homeless in the end... It was pretty gratifying for me to get such good notes! But there was one criticism that kept reoccurring: the cover.

Now, I'm an adult. I've been online for a while now, and I thought I understood where this was coming from. Eighty percent of this hate is people just being put off by the idea of Blaze and hoping that, if they complained enough, Tumblr would remove it. Sure.

But then we found this unnamed expert who opened our eyes to the REAL problem!

Oh, right! It's the kernelling, duh! How did we not see it? Clearly, the font and the colorations were just ALL WRONG!

And you can't have a standard font with automated spacings! You need to hand-do that stuff, or people will think you published a book by yourself!

And they're right! So I talked with my illustrator, and we worked together to come up with a solution. For the kernelling AND the quality of the artwork!

See? Much better, right? The kernelling is now 100% hand-done, and you can see for yourself that having it fixes every problem people had with the cover! And that legibility is just so much better!

But I thought we could surpass our limits!

So we did.

The kernelling comment really impressed to me that the problem was just that a hand-drawn style—no matter how gorgeously done it was in five-year-old-kid authentic CRAYONS this time!—doesn't really look good. It doesn't sell that my book is a nitty-gritty serious book for adults! Why it looks like it might be made for children—Perish the notion!

It's the same reason you can't buy hot-pink cars. Other adults might laugh at you!

We can't have that!

So we went to work on a cover that reflects our mature and serious tastes as consummate professionals:

How about that! Now with 95% less color!! This is a cover you can take to the office with you. It just screams I do tax work for fun! With this book in hand, the guys at the office will feel outright inferior to your vast intellect! Girls will be indubitably impressed by your refined tastes. And ladies, if guys see you reading this book, they'll be so intimidated at your agglomeration of literature that they'll leave you alone! And yes, this is 100% hand-done kernelling too! What a savings!!! ...

but...

Gee... I don't know... something just feels... missing.

It felt like we needed some passion! So we went ahead and borrowed from the Romance Genre of book covers to make a third design.

You're welcome.

HAWT!! Now that's how you do a book cover! It's just so original and steamy!

But, oh nose! Now we can't decide which is the best cover to use!

Now it's up to you to vote on which cover is your favorite! Leave a comment or reblog with your thoughts. If you haven't seen it (or just want a reminder), the original post can be found here or you can buy The Wingman at any of these outlets:

Barnes & Noble, ThriftBooks, Bookshop.org, BookFinder, or Amazon

Below the cut is my serious review of using Blaze to advertise The Wingman. Read it to see if Blaze is a good fit for you! This parody of Clinch Cover's Art was made in part using free Unslpash stock photo's by Justin Essah, Meg Jerrard, and Mathew Schwartz.

Okay, now that that's over—serious business time! As you may know, I bought the largest Blaze package at $150.00 USD for approximately 50,000 impressions. This was in effect from Thursday, April 21, 08:38 to Friday, April 22, 08:38.

Overall, I got 58,193 Impressions. This broke down into: 239 likes, 50 reblogs, 7 comments (a few of them were my own.) 1 Follow (which was probably due to me adding them first) and 11 shares off of Tumblr.

I had two people purchase The Wingman. One print, one e-book. Meaning I had a net loss of about $130.00USD. And the post I Blazed has had precious few notes on it since Blazing.

What does this mean to the book industry? Well, it means advertising sucks. For one thing.

We meticulously combed the meta qualities of my serious post to be widely appealing and upbeat (qualities that get lots of reblogs). I know many people think that means I was cheating, but keep in mind—despite gaming the meta content to be marketable, I lost money. This, unfortunately, tracks with similar experiments done on Facebook and Amazon. If you're trying to advertise your stuff as an indie artist/author—DON'T! Tumblr is selling about the same impressions that other sites are using at about half the cost... actually, less than that, if you take in the fact that people find Tumblr advertisements amusing. It is important to note: This was NOT a high traffic day, so doing a similar experiment on a Friday/Saturday may yield slightly better results. Tags are a roulette. I did my best to tag appropriately, but there is most certainly a better method to utilize tagging. I did not follow up with a second Blaze on the same post to see if the extra advertising would reach different people. I suspect it will, but we deemed it too risky to Blaze the same serious advertisement twice. Ideally, an advertisement builds goodwill so people will like you; ours had mixed results on that front. A second Blaze would've stretched people's patience too much. Especially since there appears to be Blaze purists who want Blaze to only be used to meme on people.

Overall, being a novelist is harder than ever. At least with image art, the artist's work gets to speak for itself. The Art of Writing has to evolve, and the Art of Storytelling is trending toward shorter one-off posts or things in which other users can participate.

TL;DR: It's better to use Blaze to advertise yourself than it is to go anywhere else. But Blazing alone will not help you market your books. Expect to lose money.

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batty-pham · 6 months

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Daily BatPham Fic Rec

Oct 22

Three Vigilantes and a Pile of Parenting Books.

By nerdpoe

Tags: Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent,Dick Grayson Has Issues, Jason accidentally pulls a Bruce, Jason Todd Deserves Better, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Tim Drake is So Done, Tim Drake's Missing Spleen, Bruce Wayne is Tim Drake's Biological Parent, Duke Thomas Being a Little Shit, Barbara Gordon Appreciation, Bad Parents Jack and Maddie Fenton

Wordcount: 6,131

Summary: Dick knows in his teenage years that he'd been an absolute terror. He knows that being a Hero is something he Needs To Do. He doesn't have time to pull a Bruce and adopt a million kids; Bludhaven is a big enough task without needing to worry about a kid on top of that. Jason knows that staying with the League did him no favors in terms of mental stability. He knows that before his death he was filled with far less hatred, and is deeply aware that if his younger self met his current self, he'd only see a different version of Willis. He tries to make up for it by being nice to the kids, but he can't ever have one. Barbara knows she has a tendency to be abrasive, crass, and filled with a simmering rage. She can't help it; she spends all day working, and then pretty much all night staring at screens and working some more. She doesn't have the leisure to take a break; information never stops, so neither does she. How unfortunate for them that Clockwork has Plans, and those Plans include four de-aged kids with nowhere else to go.

Complete: no

#dp x dc #dpxdc #batfamily #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #batkids #danny phantom #batpham #fan fic recommendation #fan fic rec #fic rec #fic recommendation #daily BatPham Fic Rec #three vigilantes and a pile of parenting books #daily dpxdc fic rec #daily fic rec

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stone-cold-groove · 4 months

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Batman - 1972.

#vintage illustration #comics #comic books #comic art #dc comics #the dark knight #batman #gotham city #the batman #bruce wayne #wayne enterprises #vigilante #superhero #the 70s

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kekwcomics · 2 years

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THE LIQUIDATOR: THE COCAINE CONNECTION (1974)

#the liquidator #cocaine connection #cocaine #pulp #crime pulp #pulp books #70s pulp #crime #vigitante #vigilante books #70s vigilantes #copspoitation #tough guys #action #70s action

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kkolg · 9 months

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Haha my humor is gone

I’m sorry but I just find this meme really funny

#batim #batim au #vigilante batim au #bendy #ink demon #alice angel #kk’s art #bendy and alice #meme #oc: william #don’t question the book🧍‍♀️

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nerdpoe · 10 months

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Three Vigilantes and a Pile of Parenting Books Part 1

Part 2, Part 3, Ao3

Dick knows in his teenage years that he'd been an absolute terror. He knows that being a Hero is something he Needs To Do. He doesn't have time to pull a Bruce and adopt a million kids; Bludhaven is a big enough task without needing to worry about a kid on top of that. Jason knows that staying with the League did him no favors in terms of mental stability. He knows that before his death he was filled with far less hatred, and is deeply aware that if his younger self met his current self, he'd only see a different version of Willis. He tries to make up for it by being nice to the kids, but he can't ever have one. Barbara knows she has a tendency to be abrasive, crass, and filled with a simmering rage. She can't help it; she spends all day working, and then pretty much all night staring at screens and working some more. She doesn't have the leisure to take a break; information never stops, so neither does she. How unfortunate for them that Clockwork has Plans, and those Plans include four de-aged kids with nowhere else to go.

“Again.”

Project RD-013 stifled his sob and reached out for the puzzle again.

He didn’t want to do it again; he was bored, the puzzle was hard, he wanted a snack, and he wanted to run and flip and-

“Dr. Hovell, mark Project RD-013’s fifty-fourth attempt as a failure.”

-and he had failed. Again.

The puzzle was picked up and another was set down in its place.

“Again.”

But this puzzle was different. This puzzle was an amalgamation of gears and clocks, with no clear goal like ‘open this box’ or ‘get this color on one side’. It made lots of noises and tiny flashes of light, and it was actually fun to try to solve.

The people in the white coats called failure again, but RD-013 didn’t stop playing with it.

“Project RD-013, cease your attempt.”

He did not.

“Project RD-”

There was a click, a flash of light, and-

“Look Honeybunches, the Ghosts gave us another toddler!”

The puzzle was gently pried from RD-013’s hands and set aside, making way for a pair of very enthusiastic mad-scientist parents and their very concerned daughter.

~~~~~~

Danny woke up.

That had felt more like a memory than a dream, and he’d been having the same dream on repeat for awhile. When he could get any sleep, that was.

Between hiding the ghosts unfortunate enough to have not gotten the memo that, perhaps, it was not a good idea to come through the portal, and running from the GIW, and hiding from his parents, Danny hadn’t been getting a lot of chances to sleep.

He was pretty sure that the only reason he’d gotten any just then was due to the gunshot wound in his side.

Jazz was still standing over him, arms outstretched as she shielded him from their parents. Sam was applying pressure, and from what he could see of Tucker he was probably trying to get past the new lock codes to open the portal to the Zone.

There was shouting, but he couldn’t be assed to understand what was being said.

What he focused on instead was the strange puzzle he’d just dreamed about, not even three inches from his right hand.

As a halfa, with a well-developed space core, he could recognize a portal when he saw one. Unlike before, which he could only barely remember, this time he knew what he was doing.

Sam tried to get him to stop moving, but Danny ignored her efforts and grabbed the puzzle. He felt around its edges with shaking fingers, gently pushing the final piece back into place.

The world stopped.

~~~~~~

Clockwork hovered above the distraught teens, frowning.

He had rather hoped it wouldn’t have come to this. But it’d had to, he knew.

The Drs. Fenton were frozen in time, their gun in the process of being turned on their daughter.

Jasmine herself was frozen in time, actively stepping into said gun's path.

Daniel was frozen on the ground, laying in a puddle of his own blood as he kept trying to save his friends and family.

And his friends were frozen in the process of trying to save him.

Well. He’d intended to send Daniel and Jasmine back to their own Universe, but he couldn’t very well leave two such devoted friends behind. It would do no one any good; he could see the multitudes of futures where they tore the timeline apart to find him.

Better for them to come with, then.

Besides, Valerie was more than capable of handling aggressive ghosts. He’d just leave a hint or two that perhaps she should involve her father, get some backup.

With a wave of his hand, Clockwork aligned the children's time with that of their original (or new) Universe. Now instead of teens, it was a gaggle of five, six, and 10 year olds that were the appropriate ages for their intended Universe.

Time differed depending on the universe’s placement within the Infinite Realms, and their original was running a bit slower than this current one. To ensure they were not rejected by said Universe, it was best to adhere to that Universe’s rules.

A few more tweaks and they were all wearing the same white, shapeless smock; one of which also had a small hole. They would match their intended physical location within their universe perfectly now; all the better to ensure a successful integration. Or re-integration, rather.

With a flick of his wrist; their surroundings changed to the soot-blackened walls shattered glass of a recently destroyed lab, smoke hiding them just out of sight from a certain red-helmeted vigilante. A red-helmeted vigilante who may have been spooked enough to fire his weapon in that vicinity not even two seconds before Clockwork dropped off his charges.

This Revenant was a good one, he knew. A heart of Gold, one that would never harm children, and an eventual Ancient in many, many eons.

He would help, no question or doubt.

And with a snap of his fingers, time restarted-and Clockwork was nowhere to be seen.

~~~~~~

Red Hood was not having a fun time.

The Traffickers he’d been tailing had lead to some sort of lab, and the kids he and the Outlaws had pulled from it so far had all been mute with terror and so fucking small.

Naturally, he’d lost his shit a little.

So after setting off multiple alarms and some idiot in the building deciding it was better to just blow it all up, which was a great way to have a flashback-induced panic attack, thanks, he was sweeping the building for any remaining Traffickers.

Still jittery from the panic attack and flashback, of course. No rest for the wicked, and all that.

Arsenal had griped about how he should hang back, blah blah blah, but Red Hood knew what he was doing, okay?

The smoke kept blocking his sights and making him jump at shadows, tricking him into taking aim at random shit that he could have sworn looked like an enemy until it was just a broom. Or chair.

One time it had been a fucking oxygen tank, and his broken tail-bone would thank him for that fuckup for a few weeks.

A flicker in the corner of his eye, a flash of white cloth; the gun was up and leveled and the bullet was already out of the barrel by the time he realized that he should have probably waited to confirm.

A child’s terrified scream of “No!” tore through the air, and Red Hood’s heart dropped.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

“Fuck!”

The gun was unceremoniously shoved into its holster and Red Hood bolted forward, almost running into the red-headed little girl that was shielding a group of smaller children.

From him.

One of them was whimpering and blood was starting to pool-

Arsenal had been right, and Red Hood was a moron.

“It’s gonna be okay!” Both hands in the air, moron, show them there’s no weapons- “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize there were still kids here, but I have some supplies and we…can…”

As he walked closer he slowed to an involuntary stop.

That was Barbara.

That was definitely a tiny, child version of Barbara.

And he would recognize that scrunched up face on the ground anywhere.It was younger than he’d ever seen, but that was definitely his older brother.

Who was younger.

Dick?

What-

Something rammed into his stomach, startling him back a few steps; the tiny Barbara had just rammed him in the stomach with her shoulder.

“Stay away from him!”

Fuck, right, more important things to deal with.

“Kid, we have to stop the bleeding,” he started, pulling her away and leaning down so he could speak to her on her level, “and I have the supplies and the backup.”

Barara’s tiny, furious face glared up at him, chin wobbling as she fought back tears.

Then she moved out of the way.

Red Hood shoved down his own emotions on accidentally shooting his fucking brother who was a goddamn toddler and activated his Comm as he knelt down.

“Red Hood requesting medical assistance; four more children found, and one of them has a GSW, lower left abdominal region. Arsenal, I don’t want to hear it.”

The Comm was silent for a moment. He could almost feel them judging him through it.

“On the way, bringing a board for the injured party. Evac standing by.”

Red Hood nodded, entirely focused on wrapping the compression bandages around the wound and gently batting away little fingers determined to help.

He hadn’t been in contact with Gotham for awhile, and when it came to their own individual cases they rarely asked each other for assistance.

Was Dick missing? Was Barbara? Had he just found them?

Fuck.

He…was going to have to call Bruce, wasn’t he?

~~~~~~

Bruce was fighting back a migraine.

He’d done...something, he didn’t know what, to offend Dick.

Dick, in retaliation, was in his office and shouting himself hoarse.

But every time Bruce tried to get a word in, to defend himself or explain himself, Dick just got even angrier and somehow found more energy to go on for even longer. Then Bruce had made a fatal error.

Dick had paused for breath, and Bruce had taken advantage of that to ask what he’d even done.

That had been thirty minutes ago.

The phone ringing was not helping.

He was already getting yelled at by Dick, Jason could wait his turn.

He rejected the call.

It came through again.

He rejected it again.

It came through again.

He-

“-And just answer your damn phone, Bruce!”

-Fine.

He answered the phone as Dick slammed himself into the chair opposite him, glaring.

“Yes Jason-”

“Bruce, I think I shot Dick.”

Bruce stared in confusion at the very much not injured Dick sitting across from him, who in turn raised an eyebrow.

“Like, recently or…?”

“Like twenty minutes ago. I think these scientists kidnapped him and turned him into a kid? I swear I didn’t realize he was in my sights, Bruce, I never-”

The migraine was no longer the main concern.

“Wait, you shot a kid?” “Little Wing did what?”

A tea cup was aggressively, yet politely, set down on the desk with a firm clink.

“Master Jason did what?”

Everyone stopped talking.

Alfred towered over Bruce and held out his hand.

Bruce wordlessly handed the phone over.

Bruce hadn’t been the one to vet Jason’s gun safety or handling, after all.

When things had settled down and Jason had allowed a test of his handling, that had been all Alfred.

Alfred gently placed the phone against his ear, disappointment dripping from his every move.

There was muffled talking from Jason, Bruce couldn’t make out what, but every word just seemed to add to the stiffness already in Alfred’s posture.

Then Bruce’s Godfather turned on his heel and walked out of the room with rigid, precise steps.

Dick and Bruce stared after him

“...Little Wing shot a kid?”

Oh, look; the migraine was back.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #phanfic #three vigilantes and a pile of parenting books

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