Latest Posts by lirabuswavi - Page 3

I love whump writers cuz for most ppl, they have an idea they share with you and it's like, a fun little romcom or a mystery or whatever with characters getting together.

But then whump writers come to you with the biggest smile on their face excitedly telling you how long it takes a character to bleed out and that they've written about vivisection

whoever decided to turn daisy bell into a spooky dookie creepypasta song is fucking evil. that computer was brave enough to sing us a delightful little song and you do THIS to him? thats hatsune mikus grandpa dude. fuck you

CALLED OUT

there should be a hug button where you can tell your mutuals its going to be okay instead of liking their vent post and hoping they realize ur not agreeing that they should die

You know what, since I'm thinking about it anyways, let's talk formalwear accessories. Most of these are traditionally menswear but a bit of gender fuckery is good for the soul, and frankly most of these are about making your mass-produced clothing fit and lay properly without having to go to the tailor.

Shirt stays: these go around your thighs to hold your shirt down, so that it stays smooth and tucked in. They're usually elastic, with 1-3 clips, and if you wear skirts frequently this is a GREAT way to make sure your top doesn't ride up. The clips will be visible if you're wearing something tight, so loose pants or skirts are where these do best. There's also an insane version that clips to your socks, but that is for lunatics. If you wanted, you could also use one of these clips to hold up thigh-highs.

These do a great job of smoothing and narrowing the waist area by keeping your shirt from bunching there.

Sleeve garters: usually metal, leather, elastic, or silk. These are usually worn with button-down shirts to adjust where your cuff falls on the wrist or hand. They're properly worn on the upper arm, and you pull the fabric of the sleeve above the garter until you cuff is where you want it. Because this creates a puff of sleeve at the bicep, it also broadens the appearance of the shoulders. It's great if you're working with your hands or if your sleeves are often too long for your preference.

Waistband clip or belt adjustment clip/buttons

Three different ways of tightening the waistband of a pair of pants or a skirt. You're not going to get more than an inch or so tighter without weird bunching, and for most of these you'd want them to be hidden under a shirt or jacket, but they do the job if that's something you're having issues with.

Collar pins: There are so many fun ones out there, both with and without chains. They're not terribly practical, though the slight weight may help keep your collar where you want it. Also consider collar tips, which pin (surprise) to the very tips of your collar points.

Sweater clips/guards: meant to hold your sweater or cardigan mostly closed. Great if your cardigan doesn't button, or if you don't like it to be buttoned all the way.

There's tons of other stuff out there like this--etsy is a great place to find this stuff. A lot of these are old solutions to the very modern problem of mass-maufactured clothes not being as one-size-fits-all as advertised, but they're also a fun way to put a bit of personality into businesswear.

As the princess and heir apparent of the kingdom you are the most sought after woman in the whole kingdom, with suitors lining up every day to ask for your hand in marriage. Today you finally accept the proposal of a suitor, causing a massive scandal.

it should be illegal to take a nap and still have a headache when you wake up. like no i shut it off and back on again why are you still here

Hi Lira!

I love your transformers x DP fics, and I was wondering which transformer is your favorite? And which one is your least favorite?

Hi! I'm really glad you like them. Hm, there's too many characters for me to really pick a favourite, but I really like Prowl, Thundercracker, and Soundwave. They're all pretty different characters, but still fun! No particular continuity, though. As for least favourite, hm, don't have any really. With how wildly different writing and characterization can get across continuities and mediums, I don't see much point when I can hate one iteration, tolerate another, or even like one! The amount of vastly different Transformers content is both a blessing and a curse. Thank you for reading more stories and for reaching out!

u ever have on mutuals whos so deep in another fandom that u know absolutely zero about and they make posts that look like they speaking another language or some shit

I don’t WANT a career. I want to cuddle and sleep and eat and read and create and love and be loved.

"What were you even thinking, Jack?!"

"I'm not-"

"Not thinking? Damn right you ain't, mate. The Space In-Between is dangerous,"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"No buts unless you want back on the naughty list!"

"Wait, are you actually-"

"Hey guys! Who's this?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...Oh Man in the Moon, we kidnapped a child,"

DPxROTG

Danny finds himself kidnapped from the Ghostzone by what can only be described as Santa Claus, The Easter Bunny, The Tooth Fairy and The Sandman???

Why do they keep calling him Jack?

Jason: *Gets tapped on the ankle by someone underneath the gala finger food table*

Jason: *Assumes it's one of his siblings, ducks underneath the table*

Jason:... Can I help you, kid?

Danny: No, but I can help you. My parents are gonna attack this gala, more specifically you, in like, five minutes? And I'd really rather nobody get shot, so you might wanna leave in the next few minutes.

Jason: That... makes sense. Thanks?

Danny: You're welcome.

Jason:... Wait, how'd you get in here-?

I have seen the idea that the Fentons would assume that Batman and/or Red Hood are ghosts, and yeah those are fun AU ideas, but I have a different one: they believe that Jason Todd is a ghost.

So Jason legally comes back from the dead and joins the family again, except the Fentons see this on the news and are convinced that once they get rid of the ghost masquerading as Bruce Wayne's dead son he will be so thankful that he will financially back their inventions.

So they attack some events and become Gotham's newest rogues. They keep losing and getting arrested but are repeatedly released because technically attacking a ghost is legal. The bats are super not thrilled to learn that people like Jason legally have no rights???

The worst part is because they are targeting Jason, not Hood, he can't even properly defend himself without messing up his secret identity. He just has to let these "scientists" shoot at him and constantly be "rescued" by the bats.

Jazz and Danny are just trying (and failing) to avoid the bats attention while attempting to save poor "civilian" Jason from their parents.

no offence but i think a lot of us me included don’t actually want romantic love as badly as we think and really are just lonely and crave a closeness and intimacy that feels out of reach in friendships because of society’s emphasis on marriage and the nuclear family so we project that into the never ending search for a perfect love and a soulmate when really we all just want to mean something to someone

All I need is for someone to gently cup my face and tell me I'm not as doomed as I feel.

reblog this to put a silly little wizard hat on the person you reblogged it from

DP Prompt

Danny starts growing ice horns and claws after he discovers his ice powers so he travels to the far frozen once again with more questions.

Turns out so many Yeti's have ice spines, horns and claws because it is their core's way of releasing energy to prevent build up.

Danny learns along with his horns he will also have a lower body temperature as his body naturally releases cold energy. Turns out the far frozen wasn't always so frozen, it was a combination of so many ice core ghosts living in one place that made it what it was today.

i finished your Danny Phantom + Batfam fic the other night and lemme please tell you how well you wrote it!!! PLUS its that final push for me to watch Danny Phantom finally (after all these years too) so thank you for that :D

I'm glad you enjoyed it, thanks for telling me!

Dinah's never been particularly... religious. She hardly ever prays, but even less expects to be answered. But the last time, she was, and now...

Dinah knelt at the small altar she had made. It was simple, and honestly more of a completed checklist of things from the book Constantine had given her.

A metal bowl of offered food. Dinah went with grapes as it seemed the safest option, given she didn't know who or what she was praying too. Sticks of incense, an unoffensive orange blossom scent. A cup of rose water, as a fancy but low key offering. She wasn't still entirely sure about doing this, but, well... They'd answered her before, and she didn't know if they'd answer again. Better to establish some form of rapport now.

John's book had been very clear that there was no fury like a god scorned, and Dinah would rather not to have to fight off another invasion.

Dinah carefully lit the incense and clasped her hands in what she hoped was an appropriately prayerful position.

"Hello," Dinah said quietly. "I am Black Canary, and two weeks ago you answered my prayer to help protect people. I don't know if it was a one off thing, or you want me to be a follower of yours, or what you want at all.

I'm not going to demand anything. I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for answering my prayers. Thank you for lending me the power to protect people. Thank you for helping me save my loved ones. Whoever you are... thank you,"

Dinah kept her head lowered for a few moments more, breathing in the orange blossom incense and out her worries and fears. It felt a little like meditation.

When Dinah lifted her head, her eyes immediately zoned in on the empty bowl and cup. The cup was empty, but in place of the grapes there was a scrap of blindingly neon green paper.

Dinah picked it up carefully, and not for the first time hoped that John hadn't steered her wrong.

I'm glad I could help, it read. I'm called Phantom, and if you need help protecting people again, I will be there if you call. Acceptable offerings include chips, soda, and NASA souvenirs if it's a really big thing.

Well. Dinah blinked at the paper. That could have gone worse.

Black Canary is in a tight spot. She prays to any high power that might be listening to help, and she actually gets it.

There's a huge alien spacecraft about to land, it's a total invasion attempt, if that mothership lands then it's gameover, and it's all hands on deck.

Specifically, the Mothership is an unholy amalgamation of magic and alien tech, and if it lands, it'll start pumping pollutants that will change the ecosystem on Earth and make it unable to support Humans.

It'll terraform into something for the aliens at an extremely accelerated rate.

Everyone is preoccupied.

The Mothership is getting closer.

Dinah prays to someone, anyone, to help her keep that thing off the ground.

She opens her mouth...

...And lets out the strongest, most powerful scream she's ever let out.

The Mothership isn't just thrown back, it's torn to pieces. Those pieces are then shoved well past the stratosphere.

Anything that was in the air around the mothership is decimated.

The buildings below it are starting to crumble.

Black Canary stands on the street, voice gone from the strain, and stares blankly at the destruction.

Who, exactly, had she called on?

Or: Undirected prayers go to the Infinite Realms, for anyone to look at. Prayers allow the Prayee to borrow something from the Being that accepts the Prayer. Danny accepts Black Canary's, and lets her borrow his Wail. Except he wasn't expecting the difference between his home dimension and hers to be so great, because while it's considered an overpowered ability even in his own dimension, in her's it could accurately be classified as Godly.

flip the rock to see what’s under it!

🌾🌷🌾🌷🌾🪨🌾🌷🌾🌷🌾

(make sure you put it back after, don’t want to disturb the wildlife.)

"With fractured soul come debts divine, an unfortunate responsibility of mine,"

Short DP X DC Prompts #12

Danny gets cursed to speak in rhyme when he first meets the League so everyone simply assumes he’s a demon. 

if i ever interacted with you and it was awkward just know im sorry and painfully aware that sometimes i come off like a person who is having the first conversation of their life

There's no modulater or anything like that in his helmet, but it is really fun to see the looks on their faces when the accent drops entirely.

Jason being resurrected and picking up the most intense Philly Accent as Red Hood, and all the bats don’t even consider that he’s Jason behind the mask because no way would he talk like that

it all comes crashing down when Red Hood, in his most Philly Accent possible, Quotes Shakespeare at Dick. The weirdest bit? Anytime he takes of the helmet Jason’s accent is totally gone

Tim, a teenager, and full of self deprecation: It was taken from my greatest enemy. The one who has caused me the greatest pain and strife.

Literally everyone else: ?!!?!

Talia should swagger into the Batcave without warning and slam down a jar on the table in front of Tim. The jar, of course, contains his spleen. Tim is relieved to see Talia went on the mission he sent her on and thus was not blown to pieces. The spleen jar is both a sort of truce offering and a ‘you are a large threat and I want to stay in your good graces’ gift. Everyone else is confused but Tim refuses to elaborate or even tell them what’s in the jar.

Green arrow, getting into a fight with batman because he insulted bruce

“No, I want to hear you say it again,” Ollie said, leaning over the conference table and past Dinah to jab a finger in Batman’s face. “Insult him again, I dare you.”

Batman, for his part, looked entirely unperturbed by Ollie’s chest puffing. “I said, Bruce Wayne isn’t exactly known for being intelligent. That’s common knowledge, Green—”

“Do you know what he’s been through?” Ollie exploded, “Do you know how fucked up his childhood was? It’s a miracle he’s functioning as an adult. I knew him in school — do you know what he was? Sad. And you have the nerve to sit in your stupid little angst suit and lecture me about Bruce Wayne?”

Dinah swallowed, giving up on holding Ollie back. She glanced at Batman out of the corner of her eye, prepared to size up an opponent, but the other man’s posture was still relaxed.

He seemed…taken aback, if such a thing was possible for the Batman.

“I…apologize,” Batman said quietly. “I hadn’t realized the extent of your feelings toward him.”

“Pick on someone your own size next time,” Ollie grumbled, as close to an apology as he would get. “Bruce does so much for Gotham. More than you’ll ever do. So yeah, if he’s a little air-headed sometimes — that’s fine with me.”

With that, Ollie turned on his heel, exiting the conference room with a huff. Batman stared after him for a long moment, steeped in stillness.

“He cares about his friends,” Dinah offered, breaking the awkward silence. Batman gave her an odd look, jaw tensing.

“I know.”

“Now you do,” Dinah said, putting enough emphasis on the first word for him to look up at her, acknowledging the hint. “I’d better go check on him.”

Bruce was not panicking.

He was most specifically not panicking. Because if he panicked, this teenager, this child, bleeding in his arms, would die.

The robbers on Elm Street could wait. Oracle had already directed Nightwing to the robbers getaway vehicle. Dick had been complaining for days that he hadn't had a good car chase in weeks. He got his wish.

But this child, Daniel, was Bruce's priority. His disorientation was concerning. He'd gone from mostly aware and coherent to unconscious in such a short period of time, after obviously having been cognizant enough to get away from his abuser. The rapid deterioration gave Bruce an indication of what type of poison it was, at the very least.

Bruce carefully buckled the child into the passenger seat of the Batmobile, tilting the seat and Daniel's head so he wouldn't choke on his own blood before they got to the Batcave.

"Agent A," Bruce growled, the Batmobile rumbling beneath him as he hit the gas, "Prepare medbay and the lab for a tox screen. Victim is a teenager, orphan, Daniel, most likely not from Gotham. Came with his godfather, the one who poisoned him,"

"Symptoms?" Alfred asked, steady as always, and Bruce appreciated that more than anything.

"Disorientation and confusion leading into unconsciousness, rapid decline. Bleeding from mouth, nose," Bruce glanced over at Daniel and his mouth thinned, "Eyes, and ears. Cold body temperature, thready pulse," Bruce paused, considering. "Too cold, possible meta. We'll have to test for the gene before intensive treatment,"

"Acknowledged. Shall I set Red Hood on discovering the identity of the young man and his godfather?"

Bruce paused. Thought it over for a second. Then he glanced at Daniel, heard his desperate pleas to save him, help him, keep him away.

"Remind Hood not to kill,"

"Will do,"

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

Feral McGee™

It starts with the Joker. 

His goons picked up Tim Drake. Not specifically because it was Tim Drake, he just so happened to be in the Joker’s neighborhood, and we'll, he can't pass up that opportunity now can he? 

Except Tim Drake is watching, along with the rest of Gotham, at the Batcomputer. He’s nursing a broken foot and has been put on monitor duty until he's cleared for field work again. 

The guy looks enough like him, though. Black hair, blue eyes, and bags under his eyes for days. He's also got the same lean sort of build like he does. 

It happens like this. 

The Joker is doing his monologue thing where he explains whatever twisted game he's come up with this time. He takes up the majority of the screen, so nobody can see Not-Tim behind him, not until the big reveal. Then he covers the screen again, getting up close and personal, before stepping back. In those quick few seconds, Not-Tim is no longer sitting there tied to the chair. 

Someone off camera lets the Joker know, and he whirls around, confused as the rest of Gotham. 

And then Not-Tim comes in with the steel chair. 

Or, well, a crowbar, but the reference holds up. 

He takes out one of Joker’s knees before punching him in the face. The Joker drops like a bag of stones, out cold. 

Then he looks towards the camera. 

“Hey there. I'm not really sure where I am, but also if he was after Tim Drake, he got the wrong guy. I'm not him, I'm just some dude. Anyway, I'll just-yep-” he carefully steps over the unconscious Joker, gives the camera a little wave, and then leaves. 

Batman and Nightwing enter shortly after, with the Joker and his goons out cold and tied up. The knots were complicated enough where, in the end, the police resorted to cutting the ties off of them so they could be properly cuffed and taken to Arkham. 

“A constrictor knot,” Batman tells Nightwing as they watch the villain be taken away. “Often used by sailors to temporarily tie things together to keep something in a bag, or to hold something to glue it back together.”

“Huh,” Nightwing says, scratching the back of his head. “Go figure.”

—

The next time it happens, it’s the Riddler. 

He’s laughing, giving his riddles to the Bats and recording himself to all of Gotham while his victim, one of the Wayne brats, hangs over a vat of something. From a distance, he looks like Tim Drake, or maybe a lankier Dick Grayson. And he’s not the only victim, they’re all scattered across the city, but he thought an important figure such as a Wayne should be under the Riddler’s direct supervision while he enacts his schemes. 

While the Riddler cackles and plots and waves his cane around, in the background all of Gotham can see the figure escape. Several Gothamites recognize him as the kid from before, who clocked the Joker. They all watch with bated breath as he sort of wiggles his way out of the ropes holding him up. Once he’s free, he climbs the rope and gets himself down safely. 

Gotham holds their breath as the kid casually walks up to the Riddler, who’s mid-rant. He politely taps him on the shoulder, and as the Riddler is turning around, the kid clocks him just as brutally as he had the Joker. He’s down with one punch. 

They think he’s going to say another sort of awkward goodbye, but instead he pats the Riddler down until he finds a piece of paper tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. 

“Right,” the kid says, looking at the list. There’s a lot more static overlay now, and several wonder if it’s damage to the cameras. “Uh, the Clocktower, the Docks, and-” he squints at the page for a moment-”Mama Nacaroni’s? What the fuck is that? Anyway, uh. See you later, I guess. Oh! And we’re at the Gotham Arena. Have fun with him, I guess.”

The kid tosses the paper off to the side before the camera cuts to black. 

Just like last time, everyone is out cold and tied up. The Riddler himself is sporting a pretty bad shiner, but well deserved nonetheless. 

“Stop it,” Red Hood tells him. Batman just looks at him, and though Hood can’t see the top half of his face, he can tell that his eyebrow is raised. “You know exactly what I mean, B. Put the adoption papers away.”

“Hn.”

—

After that, it sorta becomes a game. The rogues of Gotham are no longer after a Wayne, or after anybody who holds any kind of social status like usual. They’re all going after this one kid, all determined to be the one to hold him. And each one is televised. 

Mr. Freeze freezes him in a block of ice, but due to the cameras glitching out, nobody can really see how he got free. They do, however, see the kid suplex Mr. Freeze. It should seem impossible, given his lanky figure, but he evidently has more muscle than he’s originally let on. 

Two-Face gets a hold of him, using chains and some power-dampening cuffs just on the off-chance that he’s a meta. They all watch as the kid leans down, pulls a bobby pin out of his hair, and picks the locks on his cuffs. One punch, and Two-Face is down. 

Gothamites are going wild for the kid. They’ve dubbed him Feral McGee™ (an online poll, of course), because every time he goes in for the punch he gets this feral look in his eyes. Also, just the fact that he casually goes up to these rogues and takes them out with all the casualness of doing something incredibly mundane? Incredible. The Gothamites are eating it up. However, despite the video evidence, nobody has been able to properly identify the kid. They know he has black hair and bright eyes, but any time he gets near a camera, it’s like there’s this weird, sort of warped quality the camera takes on. It doesn’t usually calm down until the fight is done-as one sided as they usually are-before he awkwardly skedaddles away.  

He gets kidnapped by the Penguin, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy (though that was more just a friendly chat than anything), Mad Hatter, and the Riddler again. 

And then the Joker escapes. 

It’s no surprise as to who he’s going to go after. 

Due to one too many careless goons, they manage to find their way to the Joker’s hideout pretty quickly. This time, it’s all Bats on deck, and they all hide away in the rafters as Feral McGee™ is hung over a vat of acid. His whole body is tied up, hardly a single inch of exposed skin to be seen except for the neck up. 

They watch the goons, they watch the Joker, and they watch Feral McGee™. 

The Joker is monologuing, practically begging the bats to come find him before the timer runs out. When it does, the kid gets dumped into the vat of acid. 

Despite these stakes, the kid seems to be only mildly annoyed. 

“Fuck this, I have homework I still need to finish,” they hear him say. 

They all watch, amazed and confused, as the kid starts gnawing through the ropes. Human teeth shouldn’t be able to do that so easily, but one bit after the other, and soon enough the kid’s got himself freed enough to just climb up the rest of the rope. When he’s at the top of the crane holding him up, Batman lets down a rope and pulls the kid up and out of danger. 

“Oh, cool, you’re all here,” the kid says casually, as if meeting the entire Bat Clan is just a normal Tuesday. And then he pulls out a notepad and pen and hands it to Red Hood. 

“Can I get an autograph? You’re dope as fuck, dude.”

Red Hood has to look away and hide his face in his arms for a few moments to not give away their location with his laughter before signing. And then, one by one, the others do as well. They pass along the kid’s notebook with shit-eating grins and barely contained snickers despite the fact that the Joker is still right below them. Even Batman signs it, after his children don’t stop hounding him about it. 

In their distraction, they didn’t see the kid sneak away. He’s far away from them now, nearly right over the Joker. Danny waits, though, until the Joker has turned around as the timer almost runs out. They watch as he snickers at Joker’s flabbergasted look. The Joker comically looks back and forth and under objects the kid obviously isn’t under. However, before he can do or say anything else, the kid drops from the rafters and right on top of the Joker. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. The kid, however, just brushes the dust off of himself. Despite the fall he took, there isn’t a scratch on him. 

When the bats join him, they give his notepad back to him, barely able to contain their laughter at the absurdity of it all. The kid, too, joins in the camaraderie, laughing and joking along with them as Batman secures the Joker. 

“Okay, okay, but I gotta ask, dude,” Red Hood says at one point, looking at the kid. “How do you keep getting kidnapped?”

The kid just shrugs. “I get distracted easily. And I’m sleep deprived, so you know. Social awareness is kind of at an all time low right now.”

“Why are you sleep deprived?” Nightwing asks, barely hidden concern in his voice. 

 “Finals are kinda kicking my ass right now. Especially this dumb English homework I have. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, lucky for you,” Red Hood says, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders as he walks them out of the warehouse, “I happen to know a lot about English. So, it is Shakespeare?”

“Yeah, Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

As they walk off, Batman calmly watches, though the rest of the bats can see his jaw twitching. Nightwing comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“If you don’t adopt him, I will.”

“Hn.”