How Am I Only Just Learning This!?

Causally forgets tumblr is a thing…oops.

Anyway here it is: the first in the Phantom Elf Au i have planned.

The Fae Scientist

The Justice league was reaching the end of their hope.

Six months ago, the Green Lanterns sent word that the Xelgaki, who lost their world two years ago, have fallen to their desperation. No longer were they trying to peacefully search for a new planet to colonise, instead, the Xelgaki have decided to simply choose a planet with conditions that meet their needs and then kill off the top species and take its place.

They choose Earth.

The warning, however, was too late and Earth’s defence system was not prepared for how they’d attack.

Biological warfare.

A disease that is highly contagious and starts off mild so that it will be overlooked until it has infected the greatest amount of people. Killing the largest chunk of the population it can and making it easy to kill off the rest afterwards.

“Status?” Batman grunted. His voice was rougher than usual and Clark couldn’t be sure if it was due to the sickness or due to the fact that he hasn’t been sleeping since Jason, the last of his family awake, fell into a coma like so many others.

“Dr Fate and Captain Marvel are searching the multiverse to see if any of them have come up with an antidote but…” John sighed and tapped his unlit cigarette on the table, “ the Xelgaki made this disease completely harmless to them so they never made one. Fate and Marvel haven't found a universe where we’ve survived through the use of a cure, the only ones we survived, we ended up fleeing before we got infected or it never managed to hit us in the first place.”

The comment brought a round of angry grunts, sighs, and swears from those still present.

Most of the human heroes, who aren’t actively magic users, fell to the disease first. Metas got affected even faster than the regular humans. Batman was the last, non magic, human hero standing.

“We’re short on time.” A fact that Bruce, not Batman, needed to address to those he knew were going to survive longer than he was. Clark, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, John Constantine, and Zatanna flinched. They knew they weren’t fully included in that “we”.

“Aquaman and I will not surrender this planet to them.” Wonder Woman had a look of pure rage that called for blood in her eyes. “The Xelgaki will not live past the fear they’ll feel when their limbs greet Earth and meet our armies.”

There was no rebuke for her threats of total annihilation. The Xelgaki were already in the process of genociding the human race and Clark knew that even Batman agreed his ideals didn’t matter as he watched his kids slowly die.

Aquaman is currently quarantining the Atlantians under the sea since they were lucky enough to not to be affected by the airborne disease when it hit Earth and even luckier that the Justice League managed to notify them fast enough that they stayed put.

Aquaman had already sent word that if he comes to the surface and isn’t greeted by mortal humans then he’ll make sure the Xelgaki become an endangered species before chasing them from the planet. Clark knew he would help the Atlantians if he’s still around

“I need you all to come with me to visit Central City’s Star Lab,” Batman continued, ignoring the threats in favour of getting to then point, “if the scientists fall it will be your job to get their notes to Aquaman’s people.”

Grim nods followed. Clark could only hope that his friend would hold out until a cure is found.

That hope was nothing but desperation and Clark knew that in roughly two days time the first of those asleep would start dying off. Tim being one of them.

The time it took to travel to the lab was quiet and sombre. The streets of Central City reflected that.

However, when the last standing of the Justice League made it to Star Labs they were met with a… unique? sight.

Zatanna and John froze. A choking noise came from one of them while the other gasp

“Is that an elf????”

In the middle of the lab, the most ethereal creature Clark has ever seen sat in a rolling chair wearing a pristine white lab coat.

It was also halfway through shoving a six inch bun full of plain mushrooms into its mouth as if it was the most delicious thing it has ever come across and completely defying what Clark knows of human anatomy.

—————————————

It all started with a mistake.

Well, not really a mistake but more like a series of mistakes made while sleep deprived and sick.

Mil contemplates as they shove the entire… veggie burger? Maybe. Doesn’t matter, it's food and free.

An awed gasp is barely audible as Mil continues to shake the carbon mixture they finally got balanced. The gasp was probably due to how much food they could shove into their face without choking since a mixture as basic as the one in their hand wouldn’t gain such a reaction.

Or maybe it would? Who knows maybe the rest of these poor saps were just as sleep deprived and sick as the poor dude Mil’s covering for.

The thought brings Mil back to how they managed to get stuck in this situation in the first place.

Mil had been enjoying their month-long vacation away from Amity Park. It had been a good 40 years since they’d last visited the outside cities and frankly the quiet and peacefulness of places that weren’t wrapped up in ghost fights and undead and immortal politics was a great break.

Though it WAS a lot quieter than they remember it being.

On their walk through a quaint little city called Central City, Mil knew they were reaching the end of how long they could be away from Amity without feeling the effects of Ecto-withdrawal. They had about a week before it started to kick in. They could, of course, use the Ecto-booster that they bought to extend that time but wanted to keep it in case an emergency situation popped up that forcefully extended the time they were out of Amity.

So, thinking about the drive back to Amity that Mil was going to have to start, they may have completely failed to notice the zombie-like scientist that stumbled towards them in the empty street.

“YoU!” The scientist yelled, though the word came out like it had been through a blender due to how sore his throat sounded, as he stumbled his way over. Mil could tell this man had maybe like three hours of sleep and it didn’t help that he looked sick as death. “You look like me, are you a chemist? please tell me you're a scientist of something at least, you look like me,” he basically sobbed as he got close to where Mil had stopped.

Mil did not, in fact, look anything like the dude other than having the same hair colour. Sure they had roughly the same body type but Mil’s body was built more for speed from 245 years of running and was a lot more slim than the obviously sick and sleep deprived scientist.

Ignoring the pointed ears and slight fangs of course, ecto-contamination at its finest.

They also weren’t quite sure why looking like him was a requirement to being a scientist and they can’t help but honestly wonder if it was just a desperate guess or if someone “look-like-me” means there is a higher percentage chance of the other person having at least a similar job.

Since the poor dude was correct on the scientist part.

Definitely a theory Mil wants to look into on their free time.

Regardless, Mil remembers the days of sleepless all-nighters and the barely comprehensible babble that lab work brought with it. They definitely remember the logic that comes to a scientist when one hasn’t seen a bed in over 72 hours. Mil can definitely relate.

“I’m not a chemist, but I am an epidemiologist with some experience with lab work. I specialise in breaking down a disease into its most basic form and creating direct counters.”

“So lab scientist?” Mil sighed, the dude was definitely on the end of his rope if he only caught that much of their response.

“Yes I’m a scientist and can work in a lab.”

The relief that hit the dude was visible to anyone bothering to watch but before Mil could even ask why this was important, the guy shoved a Star Labs chemist ID into their hands and had his bag off his shoulder and offered out to Mil.

“The labs at the end of this street. I made sandwiches and you can have all the food if you help cause I can’t no more.”

Mil had a week before they absolutely had to leave. Preferably leaving in three days to get back before the worst of the Ecto-Withdrawal hit if they weren’t leaving immediately.

So, helping a fellow scientist (Jack Whitemen if the ID is to be believed) out and acquiring free food while doing so or start the long ass drive back to Amity?

Mil chuckled as they added the infected blood sample into the nicely shaken carbon mixture. They can’t believe that Jack’s plan to introduce themself as him to get into the lab worked. Although, considering the fact that the lab had an active count down timer, Mil couldn’t really blame them for not noticing. Everyone in the building looked run down to some degree and it was probably due to some stuck up prick CEO who threatened to cut their funding if they didn’t get this project done before the clock ran out. The prick was probably hoping to get the finished product without paying the scientists who slaved away to make it.

Not on Mil’s watch.

Sure, Mil MIGHT be projecting just a little but not a single person has corrected their angry mutterings about stupid deadlines made by stupid fucking stick-up-their-asses pricks who deserve to be wiped off the face of all existence.

In fact, all Mil has received are nods and grunts of agreement so they reserve the right to say their ‘projections’ are correct anyways.

The solution on the stand in front of Mil finally turned a lovely shade of red and with it came a complete pin-drop silence.

This was definitely a hard task to complete for that stupid time limit the staff were given, but luckily for them Mil worked on the ecto-nerve-flu of 2153 which looked very similar to the blood samples Mil had been given. They remembered how a vaccine derived from pinapple juice saved the city from taking a stupidly long nap and it was all because someone accidentally spilt their breakfast on one of the samples. (Ecto-diseases are just weird.)

Frankly it didn’t hurt to try it out and see if the vaccine for E.N.F. would work for this too.

Which it apparently does.

Of course it’s not the full E.N.F. vaccine but Mil did their best with the lack of ectoplasm and simply stuck the pseudo vaccine in the microwave to get effect close enough to what they were aiming for.

The cheering and sobbing finally started up and Mil took that as their cue to leave. That and the fact that the Ecto-Withdrawal was hitting earlier than expected if the hallucinations of cosplayers standing in the corner were anything to go by.

As Mil slips through the crowd of cheering and crying scientists they glance at the clock that still has 50 hours left before it runs out and smiles.

All in three days work.

This will definitely make for an amusing story to tell their coworkers when they get back home.

——————————

A week after the Justice League witnessed the creation of a life saving cure that shocked and rattled the world, they still have no fucking clue who and what had created it.

The camera footage of the time is gone as if it never existed.

Zatanna and John could only tell it wasn’t human.

The scientists refuse to admit it wasn’t Jack because “we aren’t stupid enough to piss of the ‘scientist’ who made the cure”.

Jack Whitemen admits his last memory before he lost consciousness from the disease was of him bribing a fae-like-creature with a sandwich.

They know nothing.

DPxDC Demon Children Are Multiplying

This idea is still stuck in my head, and I might even end up writing something out of it, but for now, I just thought of something equally really, really stupid and really, really funny.

What if I combine that idea with Al Ghul Twins. I don't know how. Maybe Talia was cautious about Ra's not wanting to keep two kids for a position of Heir, or maybe she staged Danny's death, or maybe something else entirely happened. But anyway, Danny is Damian's twin.

Then, Dani is the same age as Danny in this AU. And Dan is de-aged to be the same age as both of them.

Now behold an absolute train wreck of a situation where Bruce attends a Gala hosted by Vladimir Masters. Together with Damian, of course, and maybe other batkids are there too. They all part their ways to make their rounds or whatnot. And they all keep seeing Damian wherever they go. Just everywhere.

Dick is talking to someone, and Damian walks past him, not paying him any attention. Which is not surprising, but a little rude, and, wait, wasn't he wearing a red tie? When did he change it to green one?

Tim is just going on the top floor to greet a lady he recognizes from some other event, and Damian all but storms in the opposite direction, only letting Tim catch a glimpse of his face. But when Tim turns around, he is really confused: the person running down the stairs is clearly a girl, albeit she is wearing a suit. Her long hair is up in a complicated braid. Why did he even mistake her for Damian?

But the ultimate confusion happens when Bruce is talking to Vladimir Masters, and a very familiar voice calls, "Father". Because both he and Vladimir turn to face the boy and ask, "Yes?" at the same time.

Damian is standing there, looking between Bruce and Vlad. He looks a little off somehow, but before Bruce can figure out why, the boy blinks and focuses on Vlad.

"We've been looking for you," he tells the man, and, wait, when was Damian looking for Masters? Furthermore, who is we?

But then another child comes closer. And-

That's Damian.

That's two Damians.

Wait, no, none of them are Damians.

"What is it?" Vladimir raises an eyebrow, not paying too much attention to Bruce's blanched expression.

A third child comes towards them, and this one also looks like Damian, only this one is a girl.

"Template's duplicate is here," she says, and Vlad frowns, turning to the Damian lookalike in the middle.

"Have you had another incident that I don't know of?"

Whatever answer the boy wanted to give is cut off by a n o t h e r child who looks like- no, this is real Damian, thank God, Bruce had started to wonder if the champagne was spiked with hallucinogens.

"Father-" he stops in his tracks as the three other children turn to him, and the four of them just stare at each other for a long moment. Then the one in the middle takes a sharp breath in and stage-whispers:

"Quick, do the meme!"

And all three not-Damians start pointing at each other.

Bruce is going to have an aneurysm. Judging by Vladimir's face, he is also not far from one.

Just my ramblings under the cut

I think you all know what meme I'm talking about, but I'm still gonna add it

This is so fucking hilarious to me, I'm sorry, I just can't

Danny is not missing this opportunity of a lifetime, even though Vlad specifically asked all three of them not to cause a scene. And yes, they all call Vlad "father" just for the spite of it or for shits and giggles. I'm going with Bad Fentons idea here, although I'm not sure to which degree they are bad, but anyway, Vlad is their legal guardian, and he is redeemed.

Yes, Dick took a picture. Yes, it's already in the group chat. Yes, other batkids are going wild.

Damian is greatly confused because, first, he thought there was a clone of him at the gala, but apparently, there were three of them, and second, why are they pointing at each other? Should he join them? He is under the assumption his brother is dead (he's not exactly wrong on that account), or he doesn't even know he existed.

This is as far as I got now, feel free to add anything!

More smol Gotham babies to feed the soul 🖤

Patreon request: Superman/Feralnette crossover

I went unnecessarily hard on this for some reason?? anyway, I might play more with this later~

Storms are amazing

DPxDC Alt Rock to the Rescue

[Inspired by this art]

"...Alright, I might have an idea," John Constantine, who was seemingly busy texting someone for the past ten - or twenty, no one really counted - minutes, puts his phone away and snaps his head up.

The room falls silent. Superman blinks in surprise, Diana frowns slightly, and Batman's mouth is pressed into a thin, stubborn line. Flash recovers first.

"You have an idea?" He huffs a short, disbelieving laugh, "No offense, but I'm not sure a magic trick can help us against, you know, an alien fleet." He gestures to one of the screens on the wall, where said fleet is approaching Earth on live.

The rest of the Leaguers present don't exactly agree with him, at least not verbally, but the mood in the room shifts from tense, anxious alarm to an almost palpable annoyance. To be honest, no one was even sure why or how John Constantine of all people ended up in the meeting. It's not like JLD could actually help with an ongoing, massive invasion that was about to happen in less than three- Correction, less than two and a half hours. Besides, it's John Constantine. The man that never shows up unless outright bullied into submission.

The magician winces briefly and starts rummaging through his pockets under the weight of everyone's attention.

"I said I might," he amends gruffly, getting a cigarette out of one of his pockets and sticking it in his mouth but not lighting it. Seems like it wasn't what he was looking for, though, because after that, the man keeps going through the various places on his coat, patting himself down. "I know someone who can deal with it. Granted, I already owe him a great deal, but he won't say no," he pauses and grimaces, "At least I hope he won't."

"I do not think it would be wise to call upon gods in our situation," Diana tries carefully, but John pays her little mind.

"Or demons," Green Arrow adds, crossing his arms on his chest, "I'm not selling my soul to get rid of some rocket ships or whatever they are."

Now, that makes the magician bark a laugh. Or, maybe it's the piece of lime green paper - a sticky note, actually - that he finally finds in the depths of his pockets.

"Oh, your soul's gonna stay where it is."

"Constantine-" Batman starts, but John cuts him off instantly.

"Mine will stay wherever it is as well," he reassures the man, "It's not that kind of entity." And with that, he promptly sets the green note on fire - green fire - and uses it as a lighter for his cigarette.

The next moment after the note is reduced to ash, there's a shift in the air in front of him, and, before any of the heroes have a split second to react, there are two people floating in the middle of the room, backs pressed to each other.

Two teenagers, to be exact. A girl and a boy, both of them so pale that their skin looks gray, and both dressed in grunge, like they just came from a rock concert. Yet, that's where the 'normal' parts of their looks end - the boy's hair is so white it looks blinding, and moves in the air slowly, undeterred by gravity, and the girl's hair is neon blue, her ponytail flickering up like a flaming torch.

The boy nearly topples over as the girl leans her back on him harder and kicks her feet up slightly. The movement is awkward, like both of them were taken by surprise by the sudden relocation, and maybe the guess about the rock concert was not so far from reality; there are drumsticks in the boy's hands, and the girl is holding an electric guitar in her hands.

"The fuck?.." The boy asks no one in particular, as the girl makes an annoyed groan and straightens up, still floating in the air. Her guitar makes an aborted sound. Meanwhile, the boy's eyes land on Constantine, and his whole face scrunches in disgust, "John, for the love of Ancients, I was in the middle of something."

The girl takes a look around while her friend is busy expressing his annoyance and elbows him in the side, "Oi, look, it's the whole Comic Con in the flesh here."

Green Arrow sputters. Flash makes a wordless but very offended sound. The floating boy looks around, taking stock of faces in the room, and the disgust on his face morphs into exasperation.

He turns back to Constantine, "Really? I thought I told you I want no part in your furry parade."

"Alien invasion," the magician decidedly doesn't address any of that, instead pointing his finger to the screen behind him. "Thought you ought to know," he adds, a bit of sarcasm bleeding into his tone.

"Ooh, is it my turn to be your world saving buddy, Phantom?" The girl perks up, turning around and draping herself over the boy's shoulders with a giddy laugh. Her guitar shifts to hang in the air on her side all by itself.

The boy - Phantom - rolls his eyes. Bright green, glowing eyes that definitely don't belong to a human being.

"If I had a nickel every time I had to save the world, I'd probably be able to buy myself my own guitar," he grumbles and looks back to Constantine. "Do I, like, have to? Right now? You know, I don't get paid for this bullshit, and the studio we rented for rehearsal has an hourly rate, so if we can postpone this for about an hour and a half, that'd be real nice."

"The fleet is only two hours away from Earth," Batman supplies suddenly, and, when both floating kids turn to look at him, adds, "I can pay for your next rehearsal. Or a few of them." Evidently, Phantom's comment about nickels struck a nerve. Or, maybe, the man just likes throwing money at any teenager he encounters. Who knows.

The boy blinks, taken aback by the proposition. But the girl grins, sharp and wicked, and shoves her drummer - if the drumsticks are to tell - in the side again.

"Hey, free studio. Better than the last time."

That snaps Phantom out of his stupor, and he groans, "Don't remind me." With a weary sigh, he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in the air, almost like reclining on it. "Okay, fine, sure. Do you want them, like, away from Earth- um, this is Earth, right?" He turns to Superman, surprisingly, looking for confirmation, and the man nods, thrown off guard. The boy nods back and continues, "Or you want them blasted into oblivion, or what?"

"Whatever suits your mood, kid," John waves his hand at the screen as if making a welcoming gesture, "But all the aliens gotta go."

Unexpectedly, that makes the girl's grin even wider, and she reaches for her guitar, floating around Phantom and looking him in the face. The look she gives him speaks of mischief, and the boy seems to understand what she's implying before she as much as opens her mouth.

"Ember, no," he pounts a drumstick at her.

"Ember, yes," she wiggles her eyebrows, "Come on, your wail is boring as fuck as it is, why not spice it up?"

"I'm not wailing," Phantom scrunches his nose, "My throat will hurt for weeks."

Ember runs her fingers over the strings of her guitar, and it makes a comparatively quiet, vibrating sound. A few cords shoot out of the bottom of her instrument, like ones used to plug an electric guitar to an amp. She raises her eyebrows, still looking at Phantom, a silent conversation between them.

Then, the boy huffs and rolls his eyes, twirling a drumstick in his fingers.

"Fine."

The cords fly at him like snakes, aiming at his neck. None of the Leaguers watching the encounter get to say even a word as the metal pins insert themselves into the boy's neck, acting like some twisted kind of collar. Phantom doesn't even flinch.

Ember's guitar, on the other hand, reacts to the connection quite violently: it makes a high-pitched sound all on its own and then changes color from black and blue to white and green, with lightning bolts instead of flames for design. The girl's ponytail flares up higher as she softly murmurs in delight.

Then, she turns to the people around them and smirks, "Which way is the evil alien fleet?"

Flash wordlessly points his finger to the right and up. The girl nods in satisfaction, turning in the air so her guitar is facing that way.

"You might want to cover your ears," Phantom advises, a sly smile on his face and a glimmer of anticipation to his eyes. John Constantine follows that direction immediately, and, taking his move as the best course of action, the other heroes follow as well. Except Batman, who only narrows his eyes and looks at both teens in the air apprehensively. Phantom shrugs, "Or don't, I don't hold any responsibility for your shattered eardrums."

"Pick up where we left off, then," Ember tells him, and the boy blinks:

"Wait, I thought you'd just-"

[For some wholesome experience, put your headphones in and listen to 'KULT' by Jisaiah, grandson, and Steve Aoki]

But the girl has already started a tune, nodding her head to the rhythm of it and slowly picking up the pace. Phantom huffs, but doesn't protest any further, floating up as much as the cords allow him and spinning a drumstick in his hand.

"Maybe I should join a cult

At least they'll tell me it's not my fault

That the world's a fucking circus

That my life feels fucking worthless," he spits the words out with a sneer, slowly rotating in the air until he is hanging upside down. His eyes are closed, and his voice becomes more and more staticky with every new sound. The volume of Ember's guitar gets up, higher and higher, until the walls and the floor of the room around them start to vibrate.

Then, Ember's voice joins Phantom's, and the boy brings his drumsticks down on thin air, mimicking the moves. Only, even with the actual drums not there, the air around him ripples like they are, and they all can hear the beat.

"Maybe I should join a cult

At least they'll tell me it's not my fault

When it all comes crashing down

We'll see who's laughing," both kids pause, just for a beat, and Ember uses that split second to spin the volume knob to the max before strumming her guitar in one wide, sharp move.

"NOW!"

The sound wave is not only palpable, it's visible. A wave of toxic green ripples through the air, knocking everyone present - sans the two kids in the air - to the ground, and goes beyond. The screens on the walls flicker and turn off, sending sparks in the air, and the comms give off loud, screeching noises, and-

The following silence feels almost deafening.

Batman, unsurprisingly, is the first one to stand back on his feet and see a few of the screens come back online.

Just in time to see that same green wave of... sound? energy? power?.. decimate the entire fleet like a wet cloth over a chalkboard. One moment, the spaceships were there, and the next they are gone, wiped out of existence.

Ember laughs, leaning back and almost doing a backflip in the air.

"That was nice, dipshit!" She shoves Phantom in the shoulder, and the boy snorts, plucking the cords out of his skin and grinning.

"Yeah," he agrees with a smile, not even looking at the screens around, "Maybe we should try rehearsing in space next time. Sing to the stars and all that crap."

"Sing to the stars?" Ember raises her eyebrows mockingly as the rest of the heroes scramble to their feet, bemoaning their ringing ears. "Na-ah," she clicks her tongue and turns to Batman, "You still up for paying for our studio?"

The man just grunts in a semblance of affirmation.

"Sweet," the girl grins and offers Phantom a hand for a high five, which he returns instantly. "Cheers to the world being saved once again!"

The boy just rolls his eyes and turns to Constantine, "Next time, be a dear and text me before summoning, or I'm going to sell your soul to Morpheus, and who knows what he'll do with you."

John Constantine grimaces. "I did," he offers grudgingly.

But both unearthly teenagers are already gone without a trace.

[Edit: I want everyone to know there's ART now!!!]

[Edit 2: There's more art!!!]

Had a thought about the Reluctant War and made myself a bit sad and I have no idea if it'll make it into the story proper so I'm going to inflict it upon all you guys:

Dick Grayson on the streets of Gotham trying to do everything he can to help as everyone join the ghosts in fighting the GIW, suddenly has a version of the GAV barreling down towards him and for some reason he can't get out of the way in time.

He thinks he's about to join the army of the dead in a whole new way, when the tank fo a vehicle is suddenly sent flying as something massive charged it from the side. He hears a familiar bellowing and then realizes that it's Zitka, a ghost after passing away peacefully a few years before.

She wasn't apart of the army of the ghosts, wasn't brought in to fight. She's just been following her tiny human child around all these years and now that there's enough ecto in the air to do so, she's going to protect him with all her might.

Dick is emotional, so thankful to have his old friend back, but the city is still in a state of chaos. He gets onto Zitka's back and they get to work, running - flying - around helping to grab the injured and whisk them away to safety or take out other GAVs and the like.

It's absurd and freeing and wonderful all at once to be literally flying through the skies of Gotham on the ghost of his elephant best friend, and if Dick wasn't already on the side of King Phantom he is *now* and -

He gets shot off Zitka's back.

A GIW agent was aiming for the Ghost elephant but somehow *missed* and hit Dick instead. Not enough to injure him too badly, but enough to send him flying off Zitka's back and plummeting to the ground. His grapple is broken, and Zitka is diving for him but she's being shot at and she's not going to make it in time and -

A hand, reaching out to him in midair, familiar with its callouses and strong grip as he reaches out and grasps it, body suddenly swinging in a different direction and muscles acting on memory as he falls into the old, achingly familiar routine of his childhood. His mother, ethereal and bright as she smiles down at him, hanging upside down from a bar suspended from nothing but open sky as they swing and he is let go, flipping on instinct and caught by the steady strong hands of his father.

The Flying Graysons reunited in the skies above Gotham, Dick's ghostly parents determined to ensure their little bird never falls the way they did.

It would be hilarious if villains loved Nightwing and were terrified of Officer Dick Grayson.

Dick Grayson- who is used to open spaces and adrenaline- being stuck in a boring bleak office, surviving on shots of coffee and red bull with caffeine that would make Tim concerned.

The thugs soon realised that unlike most of the other cops - Dick was from Gotham.

No one fucks with Gothamites.

Villain *shooting at Dick with machine guns*

Dick *appearing from the shadows behind him*: Boo.

Villain: THIS IS A FIVE STOREY BUILDING HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE

Or

Thief *throwing a counting down bomb at Dick*

Dick: *catching and tossing the bomb at a safe distance before turning round and shooting it so it explodes mid air while running after thief*

Thief: .. what the actual fuck

Dick: Gee look at all that time you had! Shame you threw it away :D

Thief:

Dick: I’m from Gotham

Thief *realising they fucked up* : Please don’t steal my bones

OR

Shooter: *sets elaborate booby traps throughout the houses in an active hostage situation*

Dick *using his training as robin and inhuman flexibility to surpass them with ease*: Ah been a while since I got to have a nice stretch thank you.

Shooter:

Dick:

Shooter:

Dick: .. Hi :)

Shooter: Are you Satan?

AND

In interrogation room

Murderer: I think I’ll take your eyes and add them to my collection

Dick *running on spite and caffeine that could give Superman a sugar rush* : Funny.. I was going to say the same thing to you

Murderer: .. what

Dick: I wouldn’t take your eyes though.. they look like the inspiration behind the whole Medusa’s “look at it and you turn to stone” thing-

Murderer: Hey! Take that back before I gut you

Dick *smile stretching wider without blinking* : oh? Or what? I know everything about you. Who says I can’t kill you and walk out with everyone being none the wiser? I know how to kill someone too..you aren’t special.

Murderer:

Murderer: I’m scared for my safety.

Because the thing is, Nightwing is who Dick really is. It’s who he can be free as, be himself as without red tapes and regulations. Where he can give as good as he gets, and he’s kind and empathetic. He gets to help the downtrodden and goes easy on most of them if they give up right away, not to mention the fact that he never causes permanent damage.

But officer Dick Grayson is a different story. He runs on sleepless nights and no self preservation. Seeing an officer with an uncanny skill set they’re scarily good at, not to mention the cheery attitude he always has scares the shit out of criminals. Cuz no way in hell is a smiling Gothamite not a deranged one. He chases crimes like a bloodhound, and isn’t afraid to make good on threats he makes to ensure they never hurt anyone again.

Bonus if the batfam doesn’t know about this.

Red hood: Shit I can’t believe we ended up in Bludhaven

Red Robin *tying up the corrupt politican* : Since this is a sensitive case, we need someone we can trust to make sure it is seen through.

Red hood: .. So we paying a visit to Officer Grayson?

Politician *screeching* : NO NO NO NO! PLEASE NOT HIM!! JUST KILL ME INSTEAD AND TAKE ALL MY MONEY I CANT DEAL WITH HIM!

Red hood: .. is he fucking serious?

Henchmen: Sir he is. And we agree. Please take our bones and kill us but don’t take us to Officer Grayson.

Red Robin: Wait what did he do?

Henchman 1: He asked boss if the hat was sentient.. and said that if it was would it make that hat the top and boss the bottom.

Henchman 2: Last time we met I tried to shoot him but suddenly my gun was blank and he raised his hand and let the ammo drop

Red Hood: Well even I could do that-

Henchman 2: They were my bullets. I had selected the colour personally.

Red robin *growing concerned*

Henchman 3: He sang a lullaby to a child when we were holding the station hostage, and replaced the people with my family members. He even sang their social security numbers!

Henchman 4: He’s the most dangerous of them all. I ain’t shitting ya when I say he’s as scary as the bat from Gotham.

*all nodding in agreement*

Red hood:

Red Robin:

Red hood: Nah that doesn’t sound like Dick

Red Robin: Agreed. Let’s go there Hood.

*villains’ sobbing intensifies*

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Did anyone else hear Catra purr at the end when her and Adora are standing together at the end or am I just making that up?