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thelibrarian1895 · 2 months

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If your sibling is a rogue then make the best of it

I would like to think that Jason is very Hondo Onakha about kidnapping, very dramatic, fairly polite/chill to the one he kidnapped, minimal trauma, very professional overall but also very theatrical. Out of anyone in Gotham to have as your kidnapper, Jason aka the Red Hood is by far the very best person.

ALL of Jason's family whether they be legal, biological, emotional, or honorary, will absolutely try to convince Jason to kidnap them to get them out of some stupid civilian event. Whether or not Jason will go along with it will depend on several factors such as:

Does this benefit Bruce and get him out of a boring civilian event too? Then so sorry, you're just going to have to suffer!

How busy is Jason at the moment? Because being a drug lord and vigilante is actually pretty time consuming and kidnapping can be a lot of work for potentially very little gain.

What does Jason get out of it? Yes money is all well and good but Jason is rich by his own merits and can just steal from Bruce whenever, there's got to be more to it!

When is the last time Jason has kidnapped this sibling? He can't do it too often or it gets less effective. He has a reputation to maintain after all!

It may also depend on which sib is asking and what they need to be "saved" from.

Dick asks to be kidnapped from a bachelor auction charity? Ha! No chance, sorry Dickie! He will be there though and take pictures and laugh. (And also join all the other siblings who are stalking Dick and the winner of the auction in the event the winner wasn't one of the Bats or an invited member of the JL or Titans using Bruce's money) Dick asking to be kidnapped from a gala or some opening night of trendy place he's at to maintain civilian status? Maybe but the bribe has to be considerable. And it cannot benefit Bruce. Dick's normal bribes consist of taking some tedious part of an investigation over for Jason or getting intel from JL databases for Jason and the Outlaws.

Cass? Anytime and always, favorite sister who can beat him up has special kidnapping privileges, though they did stop for a very long time when some weirdos put out the theory that the Red Hood was in love with Gotham's Princess. (idk if Cass is considered Gotham's Princess in any version of canon but she is to me) Cass does still repay Jason in the form of Black Bat keeping an eye on Jason's territory when he's out of Gotham for any significant length of time.

Tim? He does owe the kid for several incidents and Tim normally doesn't abusive the privilege so he'd probably do it but there does have to be some sort of bribe for appearances sake. Tim usually gets Jason to agree in exchange for pictures of Batman tripping over his cape or in some other ridiculous position. Bonus in Jason's mind if Tim requests a kidnapping when Bruce is off world or otherwise occupied, therefore giving Brucie Wayne's reputation a hit. However if Tim wants to be kidnapped from something where Bruce is also suffering as Brucie, Tim is SOL (Tim might get revenge by getting Kon to wear Red Hood gear and "kidnap" Tim from the event if Jason refused. Kon will do it because Tim asked and also I would like to think that Kon isn't too fond of the guy who beat his best friend/boyfriend nearly to death and will mess with him if given the chance) Since kidnapping normally interferes with things that Tim wants to do however, he may instead bribe Jason to not kidnap a sibling that has asked to be kidnapped. Jason usually obliges this no kidnapping request.

Barbara? Sorry, no, he doesn't want to stress the Commissioner like that. He will, however, kidnap other people for her if she asks.

Stephanie? No Stephanie, he doesn't care what you offer, he's not kidnapping you so you can avoid your finals! Stephanie has, however, worn various wigs and been various hostages who died at the hands of the Hood in order to maintain his reputation. She gets paid in baked goods for her service.

Damian? Damian considered the idea ridiculous and proclaimed he'd never stoop so low and he would carry out his duties no matter how onerous! Damian then had to go to a Gotham gala. Damian is trying very hard to figure out a suitable bribe to get the Red Hood to kidnap him often enough that Bruce will be forced to keep Damian away from galas because of the ongoing security threat. So far it hasn't worked because Damian is very bad at bribing Jason, Jason thinks Damian forced to interact with normal people is funny, and Tim is successfully bribing Jason to ignore Damian's bribery attempts. The Red Hood has "kidnapped" Damian once, as a treat, when he thought the kid was looking particularly down about something.

Duke? Duke has yet to be made to attend any society gatherings as the solo Wayne (normally that falls to Bruce, Dick, or Tim) and can usually be spotted hanging out with Cass by the snack table at any gala or trendy event. He's not at Cass's level of reading body language but he's pretty darn good and he and Cass have reached a new level of being able to avoid annoying rich people while at parties. Duke is Cass's favorite gala buddy. Duke hasn't felt the need to ask Jason to kidnap him yet but Jason will allow the first one to be free of charge, no questions asked. After that Duke hasn't figured out suitable bribes for Jason but has realized that all of his siblings are hyper competitive and that Jason would absolutely wager a kidnapping in a competition or for a bet.

Alfred? If Alfred asked then Jason would without any caveat. Alfred will not ask however but might ask on behalf of someone else and Jason will comply.

Bruce? Jason just laughs. And if someone else is planning on kidnapping Brucie Wayne from a particularly boring business meeting or gala? Jason will actively thwart the kidnapping to force Bruce to continue to deal with social activity.

Jason usually splits a portion of the ransom money into bonuses for his goons since their original job outline is drug dealer/enforcer/mobster and not kidnapper. If they're going to get major felonies on their records, better make it financially worth it. All of Jason's goons are masked during any kidnapping event. The rest of the ransom money goes towards a charity of Jason's choosing.

Jason has also kidnapped people who are not his family or family adjacent. Barbara thought her dad could use a vacation at one point but he didn't have the PTO for it so Barbara had the Red Hood kidnap him. James Gordon experienced the weirdest kidnapping of his life that included some of the best food he'd ever eaten, an extremely soft bed, his pile of books that were on his reading list, and access to the sports games he'd meant to watch. The ransom was successfully paid after he had a week to relax. Gordon was then, as per protocol, allowed time to relax after his "harrowing" event. Barbara forced him to take the time. Strangely enough, some politicians who had been giving the Commissioner a hard time were suddenly very quiet when James Gordon came back, well rested, well fed, and ready to get back to the grind. It, of course, had nothing to do with the very polite emails with pictures attached that they all received while the Commissioner was very publicly out of the way.

Oliver Queen, when he was visiting Gotham, was kidnapped by the Red Hood. He was released after the ransom was paid and specifically he was released back in Star City. Mr. Queen was unavailable for comment after the incident but some sources say that he was cursing bats for some reason.

Lois Lane found herself kidnapped by Red Hood and ransomed by the Daily Planet while Superman was off world. Lois Lane returned safely to Metropolis and published a shocking expose on Luthor's latest scheme. Her sources for the article remain a secret.

Bruce is very grumpy about the whole thing, not just because Jason won't help his poor father get out of the stupid social event, but also because Jason being technically a rogue like this makes it very hard for him to successfully argue that Jason should let himself regain legal living status.

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incorrectbatfam · 5 months

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Robin!Dick: Bruce, can I walk to the park?

Bruce: Well, let's see. If a stranger asks you to get in their van, would you?

Dick: Absolutely, I love meeting new people.

Bruce: No, you don't get in the van.

Dick: Okay, I won't.

Bruce: What if they have candy?

Dick: Now I'm getting in, I love candy.

Bruce: No, you don't get in.

Dick: But they have candy, come on!

Bruce: You don't get in!

Dick: Fine, I won't.

Bruce: What if they say, "But I know your dad."

Dick: Then I'm getting in. That's family.

Bruce: No, they're lying.

Dick: That liar!

Bruce: What if they have a puppy?

Dick: I'm getting in.

Bruce: No, you still don't get in.

Dick: Okay, no problem.

Bruce: What if they offer you money?

Dick: I'm in there!

Bruce: No!

Dick: No?

Bruce: No!

Dick: Okay.

Bruce: What if they say they'll take you to the toy store?

Dick: Scoot over, I'm getting in!

Bruce: No!

Dick: I'm staying out. I'm not getting in the van.

Bruce: No, you can't go to the park.

Dick: I don't even wanna go anymore.

Bruce: Okay.

Dick: I wanna get in that stranger's van. They got fucking puppies and candy.

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multifanritz · 2 years

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the batkids getting kidnapped must be such a hassle for bruce cuz he has to play 20 questions just to figure out which kid it is.

"The short one? So not Dick or Jay. Damian is home right now, so not him. That leaves 4. Black hair? Not Stephanie, okay. Looks bored? Honestly, that doesn't narrow things down at all. A girl? Oh, okay it's Cassandra. Alright, tell her to not take too long, dinner is in 30 minutes."

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whalehouse1 · 1 year

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Rogue: We have Nightwing tied up, unconscious and drugged in the basement. You think about touching us and he’s done.

Tim: So you have Batman’s child, Superman’s nephew, the big brother to a whole slew of bats, brother to the original Teen Titans and the second batch of them, best friends with whatever we’re calling the red head Flash to distinguish him from the other Flash, mentor to Young Justice and a favorite of the Justice League? Did you think this through at all? I’m positive that there is a fleet of Kryptonians coming here now, so uh surrender him I guess if you like your bones in one piece?

#Tim Drake #dick grayson #Red Robin #Nightwing #I mean honestly is it a smart idea to kidnap anyone League adjacent? no #no #but I feel Dick has everyone on speed dial

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spacedace · 3 months

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Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.

Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.

(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.

A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.

It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.

Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.

Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.

But they were still kids.

Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.

Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.

Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.

Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.

They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.

Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.

Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.

They all knew why.

The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.

That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.

Robin II was an Alley Kid.

A true child of Gotham.

Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.

Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.

He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

Bad things happened to good kids all the time.

And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.

Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.

The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.

Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.

Or so the rumors said, at least.

That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.

Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.

And then the news came in.

There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.

Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.

Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.

Alone.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.

The Joker wasn’t most folks.

And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.

Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.

And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.

Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.

But the Bat would find him.

They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.

It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

The Clown still lived.

The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.

No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.

That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.

They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.

And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.

Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.

Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.

Not Robin II either.

Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.

No.

It was a new Robin.

A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.

Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.

The Clown had killed Robin II.

Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.

Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.

The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.

But he never did.

Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.

Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.

And then the Bat stepped in.

Revived the fucking Clown.

A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.

He was a good kid.

He deserved better.

Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.

Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.

It was their turn.

#batman #batman au #batman rogues #batman rouges gallery #dc penguin #dick grayson #jason todd #jason todd robin #dick grayson robin #bruce wayne #the joker #tim drake #dc robin #gotham city #open season au #i don't go in for Jason being the 'angry' robin or the 'violent' robin #he was the lil chainsmoking ball of sunshin robin that made sure to do his homework first before going out to fight crime #dick was the scariest robin because he was BOTH incredibly violent & full of rage AND a ball of sunshine & unrelenting hope #Jason was a Gotham kid (an Alley Kid) and I think a lot of the rogues would have respected that #dick got his respect by teaching them how many of their bones a tiny 9 year old could break in a single kick #feel like there's a scene in the extended au in which Tim gets kidnapped but instead of being held for ransom or threatened #it's just the Rogues aggressively mother-henning him and trying to make sure he's alright #Dick gets a call from Harley later that the newest Robin is fine he and Riddler are coming up with deadly traps together #No she doesn't see anything wrong with that - it's just some enrichment activities for them - why do you ask?

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arunneronthird · 1 year

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some say bernard is still laughing to this day

also imagine telling damians bff to not hurt him, imagine that

#dick wants to be a cool big brother to the most unhinged people in the planet #i feel like jon can come up with a book long bulleted list for reasons including ''he kidnapped me the first time we met''#and ''he didnt get more chill after that''#jon kent #dick grayson #timber #superboy #superman #nightwing #supersons #batman #dc comics #my art #ladies. gentlemen. you have eaten well.

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ghost-bxrd · 6 months

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Prompt:

When Jason wakes up in the Pit and finds out about what happened while he was essentially brain dead it’s not Bruce his ire falls upon, but Dick.

Dick, who never accepted him and had to be coerced into spending any amount of time with him but is now regularly seen patrolling with the Replacement. Dick, who had an open ear for everyone but Jason. Dick, who never put in any kind of effort with Jason but has an entire Wikipedia article dedicated to his wholesome bond with the Drake heir.

Dick, who couldn’t even be bothered to attend his funeral but never missed a single of the Replacement’s photography exhibitions.

So when Jason first dons the helmet and begins his stakeout to start planning his big debut he doesn’t only do it in Gotham, he branches out to Blüdhaven.

But when he first get to Blüd it’s to the tail end of Blockbuster having been murdered.

And when he finds Nightwing it’s to the sight of a woman stalking towards where the vigilante is sprawled on a deserted rooftop, unresponsive.

#Jason hates Dick #but there’s one thing he hates even more #he’s not gonna watch THAT happen to Nightwing #or anybody #tarantula gets killed in a very grisly manner #courtesy of a furious crime lord #dick always thought he’d have enough time with Jason #that he’d make time to work out their relationship eventually #and then Jason died #and while Bruce was busy trying to follow Jason #dick spiraled in his own right #dick totally knows that someone is currently killing tarantula #but he’s in full blown dissociation #and Jason doesn’t know what to do with Nightwing now that he’s saved him from… THAT #but he sure as hell is not gonna disclose his identity #Nightwing is pretty sure he just got kidnapped by a crime lord but caring about anything is hard atm #jason todd #batfamily #batfam #dick grayson #robin #Nightwing #red hood #bruce wayne #prompts #dick and jason #angst #Tim drake #enemy to caretaker #prompt

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hashtagonlyingotham · 6 months

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So, I used to go to school with Dick Grayson, yeah, I'm that old, and I ran into him a few days ago, and, I gotta say, I honestly believe that his butt is better than Nightwing's. He's always had a great butt, but I honestly think it's gotten even better, and while I love Nightwing as much as the next gal, Dick definitely has him beat. Also, unpopular opinion, but Alfred is also very buffed for his age, he came to pick up Dick that day, and holly dilf, I'm starting to think that Bruce has everyone in his house doing a daily 5 hour work-out routine. #onlyingotham

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#Onlyingotham #Annoymous #I mean Dick Grayson does have a great ass #but so does Nightwing #So I mean who can really complain??#on another note #Alfred? yeah hes buff af #of course he has to be #or else he'll just get kidnapped just as Brucie does

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 1 year

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I love how these two don't give a flying fuck about their own safety but when it's about the safety of their best friend? Their childhood buddy? Their good-time pal?? Their brother in arms?!

You better goddamn believe they'll take that seriously.

Dick's all 'oh a bunch of assassins and mob bosses are after me and I'm injured but it's fine, I got this handled-' and Wally already has the man tucked into the pullout couch bed at his house before he's finished the sentence.

Wally's all 'okay so I know that the future version of me is dead on the floor and I'm supposed to die after fighting a fire BUT I can't not help if there are people who need me, so I'll just fight this forest fire and-' Meanwhile Dick already has 60 tranq darts locked and loaded and the floor lined with anti gravity beams.

#dc #dc comics #the flash #kid flash #wally west #dick grayson #robin #nightwing #batman #i just love the difference in how they show that they care about each other #both thought the other had died and that they hadn't been able to save them. cause wally saw the building collapse on dicl #and dick saw the dead wally from the future #and now they're both in super over protective mode. like full on 'shut the fuck up im not letting you die' mode #but for Wally that takes the form of bringing Dick into the heart of Central City (far from the danger) into his home #and making him sleep and eat and hang out with his puppy and kids while Wally attempts to solve the case for him (he tried real hard)#and for Dick that takes the form of threatening extreme bodily harm and kidnapping if Wally doesn't comply #i just- i fucking love it. Wally's like 'you cant make me' then he remembers hes talking to dick fucking grayson #and hes like 'fuck.... this building is full of anti speedster stuff to stop me isn't it'#and DICK DOESN'T LIE. HE JUST STRAIGHT UP THREATENS HIM.#i love it. they're both so fucked up

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thatsnotahoodjason · 2 years

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bruce's kids deciding to hide around the house and the first one bruce finds has to go with him to the next gala..

but bruce not finding any of them and none of them are replying on comms or their phones and he thinks they've been kidnapped. he goes to get help from the justice league and starts an investigation.

a couple hours later, alfred finds jason sitting in the freezer reading macbeth and eating ice cream with a huge coat on

#tim would be hiding in the cave. hiding under the legs of the dinosaur trying to do work on his laptop to pass the time #duke just going in bruce's bed. he never goes there. and just messaging steph and cass in a gc #damian is just on the roof of the manor with his sword. he called jon to hang out (now clark thinks jon has also been kidnapped)#dick sorta moves around instead of staying in one place. he runs into almost everyone. but neither bruce or alfred notice him #and no one knows where cass was hiding. after alfred found jason and the two of them found the others. they didn't find cass #she just appeared for dinner later on #no one will ever know where she was hiding #bruce makes them all come to the gala as punishment for making him worry so much.. he soon regrets that decision when they arrive #dc #batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #alfred pennyworth #jason todd #cassandra cain #tim drake #dick grayson #duke thomas #damian wayne

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artemis32 · 6 months

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vagabond

my batfam obsession has finally come in handy (reader is like, late teens, early twenties??)

This was meant to be a drabble, but I went a teeny tiny bit overboard, and by overboard, I mean this is 5.6k words - there will also definitely be a part two <33

Enjoy :)) Or don't. I can't tell you what to do

****

dc masterlist

****

“Okay,

Let’s do this one last time

My name?? You don’t need to know my name. All you need to know is that I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for the last six years, I’ve been the one, and only, Recluse.

….what? Spiderman?

No, no, none of that nonsense. That’s so overused. Plus, I’m a woman, and Spiderwoman just feels like a bit of a mouthful.

Yeah… Recluse. I was bitten by a recluse spider.

…ironically, I hate spiders.”

****

Hear me out.

You’re a Spider person(??), involved in the Spider verse. You have the usual Spiderman backstory (sort of), and you’ve got the same incredible senses and abilities. I imagine you having a slightly superior spider sense and speed compared to other Spiders – think Cindy Moon. And obviously, the name, Recluse, means you were bitten by a recluse spider (I fucking hate spiders), but that also means that you get all the qualities of a recluse spider. Mainly necrotic venom and the ability to camouflage. You can’t exactly turn invisible, you just have the uncanny ability of blending in like a chameleon. It’s kind of creepy, I won’t lie.

Regardless of your abilities, you were there when Miguel lost his temper and when Miles ran away.

Except you made the mistake of trying to help Miles. Why wouldn’t you? He was just a child, and he only wanted to keep his family safe. Anyone else would’ve done the same in his position. Suffice it to say, that pissed Miguel off. Majorly.

And while Miles managed to get away without a dimension-travelling watch, you weren't as fortunate. You fought tooth and nail with other Spiders, not wanting to hurt them and not wanting to get caught. You barely managed to escape with your life as you tapped a random location into your watch and zapped off to another earth without a second thought or a proper plan. But not before the Spiders giving chase had managed to damage your watch (and you - they’re strong as fuck, of course they managed to do some damage).

Now, as you stand on an empty rooftop, examining your watch in the rain, you're beginning to think you may have fucked up.

Slightly.

The watch still prevents you from glitching, you've confirmed that much. Thank goodness.

But it is broken. You know it is. Because you can't reach anyone else in the Spider verse. And you can't see what universe you're in. You feel like you’ve been thrown in the deep end, and the fact that you can barely stand doesn’t help.

****

Stood in the rain on a rooftop in the middle of nowhere, injured and all but stranded, was not how you had planned on spending your Saturday night.

As you distractedly tinker with the watch in a pathetic attempt to fix it, grumbling to yourself about your ruined weekend place, your spider sense goes haywire, ringing so loudly in your ears that your head spins.

You're so disoriented that you barely manage to dodge the dagger thrown your way.

A dagger that's... shaped like a plane? No, it looked more like a bird?

You step back cautiously as a man emerges from the shadows, jumping down from a ledge just above your head.

He’s dressed strangely, which is one hell of a statement coming from you, someone dressed in a skintight spider suit. But-

“Really? A cape? Isn’t that, like, super impractical?”

The question leaves your mouth before you can think about it, but really – did Edna Mode teach people nothing?

He walks closer without a word. His silence is almost as unsettling as his gaze. It feels as if he’s dissecting you. He keeps a safe distance between the two of you.

Hm, he’s not completely lacking in the common-sense department, at least.

Then, after much deliberation, he speaks.

“That light- you fell from the sky?”

His voice was cautious, every word measured and serious. His eyes scanned you from top to bottom, taking in your appearance without a word.

You sigh and prop a hand on your hip, trying to appear nonchalant, trying desperately not to wince at the flaring pain in your ribs. You were in no position to fight, so you’d either have to run, or talk your way to safety.

If there was one thing you were good at, it was talking.

“Yep. You’re so observant.”

He scowls, his mouth pinching slightly at the corners.

Okay, maybe sassing the man with a dorky superhero cape isn’t a great idea… At least, not while I can barely stand.

So you change tactics.

“I’m sorry, I just- Look, uh, where exactly am I?”

The look on his face tells you that that was not the right question to ask.

Great. A sceptic. That’s exactly what I needed.

So you backtrack, laughing awkwardly as you wave your hands dismissively.

“That was a… a joke- A terribly timed joke. I apologise. Uh, your suit is… nice?”

Now he seems more exasperated than cautious, and he takes a step closer, reaching a hand out towards you.

Your spider sense flares, and you know that something about this man is dangerous. He appears young and relatively harmless, but appearances can be deceiving, you of all people know that.

So, you do the only thing you can think of at that moment. The only command your instincts give you. You jump away.

You jump.

And, naturally, you stick to the wall.

It’s nothing. It’s such a small action, one you’re more than accustomed to. You do it all the time, climbing walls and ceilings, scaling the sides of buildings. Other Spiders do it too. Even the civilians back on your own earth are used to it.

But it’s not nothing.

The man before you seems stunned beyond words, his outstretched hand hanging in midair as his jaw drops. He stares at you as you stand there, exactly perpendicular to him, sticking to the wall and defying all laws of nature as if it’s nothing.

His hand clenches in a fist and he reaches for a bo staff, the metal snapping loudly as he swings it outwards, the leather of his glove creaking as he tightens his grip.

“Who are you? Your name. Now.” he demands, his jaw clenched tightly.

You tilt your head.

Was this guy an idiot? The first rule of secret identities is that they’re, y’know, secret?

“Oh, well, I’m Recluse. Who are you?”

He ignores your question, slowly approaching you again, looking at you curiously. It might have seemed innocent to a third party, but your head was still ringing. You couldn’t let this man get too close to you.

You sigh heavily.

Running it is.

You point your arm outwards, startling the man, who takes a wary step back. Before he can react or reach for you, you shoot a web out and swing away. His bo staff slams against the wall seconds after you leapt from it, the wall denting and crumbling from the force of his swing.

The look on his face was priceless, first fear at the sight of you jumping over the edge of the building, then surprise, then a flash of anger as you mockingly saluted him as you swung away. You’d laugh if your ribs didn’t feel like they were seconds away from shattering.

You swing through the unfamiliar city, the buildings passing by you in a flash. Coming to a stop is painful, your head swimming as you nearly slam into the side of an apartment building.

Thank God for spider-like adhesion.

You sit there for a long moment, taking a second to catch your breath and gather your bearings.

After you've managed to shake the dizziness away, you swing to the street down below.

While you think over your piss poor plan of finding some civilian clothing and learning more about this universe, you try to ignore the aching throb in your ribs. You weren’t too concerned about the injury – one advantage of being Spiderwoman was that you healed at an incredible rate. You’d just have to grin and bear until you healed.

****

Wayne Enterprises.

They specialised in a whole lot, but all that really interested you was their science division. In particular, the tech and biotech sector. The company seemed eerily similar to variations of other mega corporations you’d seen in your time travelling through the multiverse.

Stark Enterprises. Alchemax. Oscorp Industries. Roxxon Energy Corporation.

The list was endless, but you’d decided, after hours spent in a cramped internet café doing informal research on the strange dimension you found yourself in, that investigating Wayne Enterprises was the best place to start if you hoped to ever fix the watch and return home.

Your plan of action was simple. Scratch that, it was terrible - held together with little more than hopes and prayers. But with your abilities, you were confident you could pull it off.

That’s how you found yourself confidently walking through the foyer of Wayne Enterprises, acting as if you were supposed to be there. Swiping an access card off of some poor, unsuspecting office worker was easier than it should have been.

You wandered around the reception area for a while, carefully surveying the room before approaching the elevator with the air of someone who knew where they were going.

There’ll be signs for each division… Right?

Wrong.

Twenty minutes later, you’re still wandering aimlessly through corridors, hoping the right room would magically present itself to you.

So caught up in your own frustrated musings, you nearly miss the department you’d spent almost an hour looking for.

The sign above the door is pathetic - faded and barely visible, peeling and yellowed at the edges, like some old poster left out in the sun to age.

Shoving your irritation to the back of your mind, you quietly open the door, wincing as it creaks. Popping your head through the gap, you peek around the small room, and-

Nothing.

It’s completely empty, the thick layer of dust settled over the countertops seeming to mock your failure of a heist.

A silent huff of annoyance is all you allow yourself, quickly shutting the door and continuing on your way. Determination fuels your every step, intent to find something, anything, so that your breaking-and-entering excursion wouldn’t be for nothing.

****

Success.

You definitely weren’t supposed to be in here. Not that you were supposed to be in the building in general, but this?

‘This’ being what appeared to be the CEO’s personal office, if the floor to ceiling windows and expensive leather furniture was anything to go by.

You’d long since discarded any pretence of searching for the biotech department. Now, you were just snooping around, curious to see what exactly the CEO of Wayne Enterprises had laying around.

Naturally, you’d come across a few pictures of him in your investigation of Wayne Enterprises, and all you’d thought about the moment you’d seen his photo, was that Bruce Wayne was undoubtedly one of the most attractive men you’d ever met.

If you weren’t caught in such a dire situation, you might have taken the time to fawn over him a while longer.

The office is odd. There’s something about it that you can’t quite put your finger on, something uncanny. Maybe it’s that lack of colour or warmth, or the lack of any personal effects.

But that couldn’t be it. You’d seen plenty of rooms similarly decorated, but there was something about this in particular that set your hair on end. Not your spider sense, but your unconscious mind.

It almost felt as if you were being… observed. As if an unseen force was breathing down your neck, pinning you in place.

You distract yourself from your ever growing unease, pulling open drawers and rifling through cabinets.

What an obscene amount of paperwork.

Truly, you don’t expect to find anything exciting or noteworthy. Maybe an office cellarette, maybe a Courtesan cigar.

What you don’t expect is to find the parts you needed to fix your watch.

The parts that were supposed to have been in the biotech department.

Before you have much time to contemplate about why the tech worth billions is shoved behind a bookshelf, the door opens.

You’re on the ceiling before he even enters the room, your breath tight in your chest, the klystron conductor clutched firmly in your fist as you try not to make any sudden movements.

Certain abilities you’d gotten as a result of the spider that bit you came in handy more often than not, namely the capability to survive weeks, if not months without food or water, and the preternatural proficiency you had hunting at night. Most useful had to be your camouflage abilities.

And while you were able to camouflage yourself, it came with its own set of drawbacks and caveats. Specifically in the fact that it was a camouflaging ability, not invisibility.

If you moved too suddenly, even someone unaware would notice you.

It takes you a moment to realise that the man is Bruce Wayne.

He looks different than in the photos - his back is broader, his hair darker, and his eyes…

His eyes-

Your head feels like it’s being split open, a buzzing so persistent filling your ears that you almost slip off the wall, your adhesion faltering for a moment.

There had been one or two stories within the Spider Society, of moments where someone's spider sense had gone so haywire they couldn’t tell up from down. There’d been a time where, supposedly, someone had even passed out from the pounding pressure in their skull.

Initially, you’d thought it was an exaggeration, a newfound hero overplaying a fight gone wrong in an attempt to save face.

Now, as he surveys the room, his azure eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than they should, you understand what they meant.

Panic isn’t enough to describe how you feel at that moment.

You feel too exposed, your nerves raw and laid bare.

It… almost feels as if he knows you’re there.

But that’s not possible. There’s no way.

You allow yourself the slightest sigh of relief, releasing the searing breath in your chest as he turns, moving towards his desk.

His silhouette is broad and domineering as he bows over his laptop, the sound of his tapping at the keys filling the sweltering silence of the room.

With his back turned towards you, you take your chance, slowly, so slowly making your way across the room, still sticking to the ceiling all the while.

You pause for a moment, freezing when you catch a glimpse of what exactly is on his screen.

The camera feed.

There you are.

Entering his office with a wide eyed look on your face.

And-

And that’s you, barely ten minutes ago, rifling through drawers and shelves.

He pauses then, on the frame of you holding the klystron conductor with a satisfied smile and a slight sparkle in your eyes. He sighs heavily, his head dropping forward as he taps two fingers against the tabletop.

You don’t linger to see his reaction, dropping down from the ceiling and slinking out the ajar door.

****

After you’d hightailed it out of the building as soon as you could, you hadn’t dared to look back.

That man… Something about him set your nerves on edge. He wasn’t normal.

Thankfully, you’d managed to get out without much hassle, and now you were wandering somewhat aimlessly through the city, looking for a place to set up shop, so to speak.

Spying a seemingly abandoned building across the street, you decided it would have to do for now.

As you cross the road, aiming for the darkened alleyway across the road, you’re slammed off of your feet.

By a car.

Someone hit you with a goddamn car.

You lay there, in the entryway of the alley, gasping for breath as you press your forehead to the wet concrete beneath you. But no matter how deeply you breathe, you can’t seem to force yourself to your feet.

Spider sense my ass – what the fuck was that?! No warning, nothing!

The edges of your vision turn black, and you pray that you don’t pass out as a pair of polished black leather shoes approach you.

A man crouches down in front of you, his words drowned out by the ringing in your ears.

He reaches out to you, intent on pressing his palm to your shoulder.

You pass out before he can touch you.

****

You might’ve been unconscious for a few hours or or a few weeks. You weren’t sure.

All you knew was that you were in what appeared to be a medical facility, and you were restrained.

On the bright side, you felt a ton better than you had before you passed out. Though a look around proved that it might have been because of whatever concoction of drugs they’d given you to numb the pain.

Well, with your increased metabolism, that comfort probably wouldn’t last too long.

You lay back, content to stay there until a doctor or nurse came in to check on you.

Twenty minutes later, long after the medication had worn off, someone entered the room.

The man, grey-haired and dressed in an immaculately pressed tuxedo, pauses for a moment when he realises that you’re awake before continuing on his course towards you and proceeding to check your vitals.

“How long have you been awake, Miss?”

You don’t respond.

Or rather, you can’t.

Pain grips you like a vice, wrapping its fingers around your abdomen, digging its claws into your skull.

Stupid damned metabolism.

Apparently, your pain and distress are visible enough for the old gentleman to see.

He frowns, leaning closer slightly for a moment before striding towards a row of cabinets, sifting through them before returning with a needle and a small glass vial. He squints slightly as he fills the needle.

A lot of what happens after that is lost to you in your pained daze. You’re awake, aware, but barely.

The older man is gone by the time you manage to pull yourself out of the strange, aching daze.

In his stead is Bruce Wayne.

The heart monitor betrays your panic, the sharp beeping filling the echoing space of the room.

He doesn’t speak or move from his spot beside your bed, instead observing you with a flat look as your heart rate slowly evens out again.

After a long bout of silence, he hold up a hand, waving it slightly, and-

And he’s holding the klystron conductor.

Of course.

“Do you want to tell me why you were ransacking my office for a multibillion dollar piece of tech?”

Your hands clench and unclench around the stiff sheets, and you lick your lips before responding.

“No, not particularly.”

You pause.

“Do you want to tell me why you hit me with your car?”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

He finds this funny?! What a psycho.

“Well, you did steal from me.”

“So you hit me with a car?!”

He raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed with your raised tone.

“Regardless… I’m guessing it has something to do with this.”

Every muscle in your body goes rigid as he holds up your watch, casually dangling it from his forefinger as he carefully observes you for any signs of a reaction.

Okay, okay, just… play it cool.

“What, a watch? Pfft, keep it, it’s not worth much. Just some piece of crap I won in a claw machine ten years ago.”

Your knuckles are white from the force of your grip as you all but strangle the bed sheets beneath your grasp.

He smirks slightly, nodding empathetically.

“Ah, of course. So, you won’t mind if I toss it in the trash, right? Since it’s just an old piece of crap and all that?”

You shrug, keeping your eyes on his and away from the watch. “Go for it.”

And he does.

He tosses it in the trash can beside your cot, still watching closely from some reaction.

You remain nonchalant.

“...hm, well. Rest up then. You’ll need all your energy- Prison in Gotham is a harsh place.”

You blanch.

“Prison? But- But technically I didn’t even steal! You got it back, didn’t you?”

His mouth quirks slightly at that.

Great. He finds amusement in my suffering.

“While that’s true, you did break into Wayne Enterprises. And my personal office. I have the evidence. That’s grounds enough for an arrest, wouldn’t you agree?”

He stands, sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a casual stance.

Fine. I can play along for a bit.

“...okay. I-I’m sorry. Fine, you can hand me over to the cops, just- Just please let me rest for a bit? I think you might’ve concussed me.”

He huffs a laugh, his eyes lighting up in amusement. He knows you’re lying. And you know he knows.

“Okay. Take all the time you need.”

He leaves without another word, not looking back.

And not a moment too soon.

As the door shuts, you glitch, painfully spasming, your cells electrified and fizzing.

You fall out the cot, collapsing onto the floor as you grip the edge of the trash can, rifling through it in your search for the watch.

Slipping it onto your wrist and tightening the clasp, you-

…this isn’t my watch.

The door opens again and in strolls the culprit, a self-satisfied look in his eyes.

“Just a piece of junk, huh?”

“Oh, fuck y-”

You almost bite your tongue off mid sentence as you glitch again, clinging to the railing of the cot as your muscles stiffen up and your blood roils in your veins.

He’s speaking, confused and panicked as he calls out to you, and then someone else, rushing towards you. You think his hands might be on your arms. You aren’t sure.

Then it’s over. You’re hunched over, all but sprawled on the sparkling white tiles, shivering and sweaty, fighting the urge to throw up.

But it’s over.

You squint up at Bruce.

His face is hazy, and so is the figure behind his.

Everything is hazy, but you can feel the strap of your watch on your wrist, his hand just above it. You can feel how dry your mouth is, and the pounding of the growing migraine in your temples. And you can feel your spider sense tickling the edge of your consciousness, slowly growing in urgency with each passing moment.

“What the hell was that?”

The voice is a new one, one you haven’t heard before. It belongs to the figure lingering behind Bruce.

His face comes into focus as the effects of your glitch wear off.

Blue eyes. Just as startling and off putting as Bruce’s.

In fact, he seems like a carbon copy. Almost. His skin seems slightly more tanned, and he’s leaner than his older companion. Shorter too, though just by a few inches.

“That…” you say in a weary manner, “was a glitch. A painful one. I don’t recommend trying it.”

“A glitch?”

You deadpan, pushing yourself into a sitting position, leaning against the wall adjacent to your cot for support.

“Yeah. I just said that. Pay attention.”

“So that watch keeps you from… ‘glitching’ then?”

Bruce and his companion sport matching expressions of intrigue and dread.

“Yep. Ten points to Gryffindor.”

“...what’s a Gryffindor?”

Good God, I should’ve let Miguel kill me.

“...doesn’t matter. I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

You get up with an embarrassing amount of difficulty, grunting as you pull yourself up using the cot’s railing. Your enhanced healing could only work so fast, it seemed, and clearly Bruce had done a number on you with the bumper of his car.

The short stride to the door is cut short as the young Bruce lookalike steps in front of you.

“Sorry, but we can’t let you leave just yet. Where exactly are you from?”

“Earth. Please move.”

“I can’t do that. You should sit back down, you don’t look too hot.”

You let out a strangled noise of disbelief.

“Excuse me, I look very hot. All the time.”

A deadpan look is all you’re granted in response.

That’s it, I’ve had enough.

“Seriously. Move.”

“No. Sit down.”

Bruce sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose as you and his mini-me engage in a stare down.

“Okay, that’s enough. Dick, back up. Miss, please, sit down before you hurt yourself.”

You pause, glancing at Bruce, then back at the man in front of you.

There’s a slight pause, and then-

You burst into a fit of giggles, clutching your pained ribs as you stumble back and collapse onto the cot.

“Your name is Dick? Dick? Seriously?”

His eyes harden at your laughter, his mouth pressed in a tight line.

“...it’s not that funny,” he mutters, unimpressed.

“Yeah it is. Who willingly allows themselves to be called Dick? I can think of six penis jokes off the top of my head. You’re practically begging for them.”

Bruce interjects before either one of you can continue, sending Dick a sharp look.

Ha. Dick.

“That’s enough. What I want to know is why you’re glitching. And you won’t be going anywhere until I find out.”

You deadpan, fixing him with an incredulous look.

“...no offence, but you can’t really keep me here.”

“I can, and I will.”

You snort, laughter bubbling up in your chest once more.

“No, I mean- You can try, but you probably won’t succeed. No hard feelings though.”

“What, you mean because of your superpowers? Trust me, they won’t do you much good around here.”

His words give you pause, and you stare up at him silently for a moment.

“I don’t- What are you talking about?”

“There’s no use playing dumb,” Dick interjects. “It won’t get you very far. We know about your abilities, and we’re telling you that we know about them so that you don’t try anything.”

“And what exactly do you plan on doing if I do try something? Money can only get you so far.”

Your words make Bruce’s mouth twitch into a small smile once again.

“I have a theory, one I hope you’ll entertain for a moment.”

He looks at you expectantly.

After a moment of deliberation, a heavy sigh, and a nod, he smiles in a self-satisfied manner and takes a seat on the foot of your bed. After a short nod to Dick, he exits the room, leaving you and Bruce alone.

“I think that you’re from Earth, like you said. Just not this Earth. I think that you’re from another universe or dimension, and you’re ‘glitching’ because you’re not meant to be here. Am I right?”

It’s an effort to hide your reaction and keep your face blank, but you manage. Barely.

“Well, that’s certainly an… interesting theory. What sparked that idea?”

He shifts, staring at you for a moment, resting his palms on his thighs.

“...you fell from the sky. Out of what I can only assume is a portal. And your cells are basically decaying without that watch- or at least, that’s what my colleagues at Star Labs tell me.”

You stiffen at his words, squinting for a beat.

“How do you know I came through a portal? The only person around then was that idiot with the cape.”

Bruce frowns at your words.

“The cape isn’t stupid. It’s practical.”

You deadpan. “It’s a deathtrap.”

“Regardless. I know about all that because…”

He pauses.

“Because I’m Batman.”

“...Batman? Is that supposed to be a superhero alias or something? That’s the dumbest name I’ve ever heard- Did you pick it yourself?”

He lets out a noise of exasperation, annoyance painting his features.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Changing the topic. It’s annoying.”

“...sorry.”

He shakes his head. “So? Am I correct in my assumption?”

You take a moment to think, really think, weighing your options. He didn’t seem like a bad person. Yes, he did hit you with his car. And yes, he wouldn’t let you leave, but…

But your spider sense had gone radio silent. If you were in any danger, it’d be ringing like crazy, so…

“Yes. Yeah, you are. I’m not from this Earth. I’m from Earth 662.”

“Earth… 662?”

“I just said that. Does everyone on this Earth struggle with processing information?”

He fixes you with a stern look before continuing on.

“So I assume you’re stranded here? That’s why you were trying to steal the klystron conductor.”

“Uh uh,” you tut disapprovingly. “I was borrowing it. I would’ve returned it… Eventually.”

Bruce nods along, rolling his eyes slightly as he continues.

“...Earth 662, huh… How many variations of Earth are there then-”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Your response is immediate and stern, leaving no room for debate.

Thankfully, Bruce doesn’t kick up a fuss.

“Hm… Well then, do you know how to get back?”

“Of course I do. I just need to fix up the watch. Hence the little heist I pulled off at your office.”

“And do you know how to fix it?”

You press your mouth into a tight line, avoiding the knowing look he gives you.

“Well, I mean… how hard can it be?”

He sighs. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

There’s a pause, a lull in the conversation, and neither of you say anything for a long while, both lost in your own thoughts.

“Okay. Here’s what I propose. You obviously don’t know what you’re doing-”

“Hey!”

“-so I’ll help you out. I’ll help fix that watch of yours, and let you stay with me while we try to find you a way back home. In exchange, you’ll tell me about things from your Earth, and about the multiverse. Sound fair?”

As much as you’d like to argue, to refuse his more than generous offer, you know you can’t. You were smart, but not in the areas needed to fix the watch.

You needed his help.

Damn it.

“...fine. Deal.”

His hand feels cool and calloused in yours, and his grip is firm and reassuring.

If only you knew then how wrong things would go. Maybe you’d have refused his deal.

****

Four months later.

“...still nothing?”

“No. I’m sorry. I’ve sent Dick to Central City to find a few more parts.”

“It’s not your fault, I just… I really want to go home.��

It had been months.

You’d been stuck on this strange Earth, so similar to your own, for months.

While the Wayne Manor was nice, and its inhabitants lovely, you missed your home. You missed your family.

But there was nothing to be done about it. You’d damaged your watch more than you’d originally thought, the travel mechanism was completely destroyed.

Initially, you’d been foolishly optimistic, believing you’d return home within a week.

But that week had passed. Then another. And another.

Time kept passing, and you were still stuck here, four months later.

At least you had decent company.

While you didn’t exactly trust them, you’d grown fond of them. You might even have begun to consider them friends.

Dick had grown on you over the months, despite the rocky start to your friendship. He was reliable in a way that reminded you too much of the many variations of Peter Parker you’d met throughout your time in the Spider Society.

Tim, who you’d discovered was the ‘idiot in the cape’ you’d met on your first night on this Earth, was just as easy to get along with. At first, he’d thrown you off a bit with his unsociable personality, but he’d slowly opened up over time. Really, he was more of a nerd than anything else.

And he’d heeded your words of wisdom regarding the cape.

Damian, Bruce’s ‘prodigee’, was someone you still had trouble getting along with. Your relationship had improved over the months, but barely. Before, he’d outright ignore your presence. Now, he at least graced you with a nod of acknowledgement or the occasional verbal greeting.

How kind of him.

Bruce had become somewhat of a parental figure after he had walked in on you crying one night. While you were embarrassed, he’d taken it in stride, comforting you as best as he could, reassuring you that they’d find a way to send you back home.

“Oh, I know, I know. We’re all trying our best, just… try to be patient. We’ll find something soon, I promise.”

His palms rest on your shoulders, patting you reassuringly.

You nod in agreement, too tired and disheartened to say anything else as you mumble something about going to bed, turning to leave the room.

****

“And you’re sure no one knows she’s here? If they found out…”

“Yes Dick, I’m sure. I’m not an idiot, I know how to wipe a hard drive.”

There’s a slight lull in conversation as the two wait for the rest of the group to arrive.

A few minutes later, Bruce enters the room, Damian trailing behind him.

He walks to where the two are seated and puts the klystron conductor on the table before them.

“That’s the last one. Have you done everything else?”

Tim nods, gesturing to a singular hard drive placed on the coffee table.

“That’s the only remaining evidence of her presence on this Earth.”

Bruce nods and sighs, looking between the three men with him before Dick interjects.

“Do you- I mean, are we really going to do this? We’re supposed to be the heroes. This… This isn’t something we can undo.”

All three of his companions hold a steely glint in their eyes as they nod.

“I’m sure. It’s better this way. She’s just a kid, she doesn’t know what she needs. She’ll thank us for this in a few years.”

There’s a tense pause for a moment before he speaks again.

“Do it.”

And just like that, the final klystron conductor is destroyed, along with any hope you’d had of returning home.

“...she’ll thank us.”

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