[@infernal-fox asks: what happened between Slade and Nightwing [in And Monarchs to Behold]?]

It was a favor to Ra’s al Ghul.

Eventually he’d learn that sentence never ended well for him. He told himself that every time he bowed to a whim of his old mentor. Eventually he’d learn, but it still always felt like something small and easy at the time–a dinner meeting to discuss potential future prospects, but with no binding agreement. An exchange of data over a common nuisance with Talia as a go-between.

A request that Deathstroke the Terminator use his house as a way into a brief assassination.

Oh, it wouldn’t take place at his house, no need to worry– but if Deathstroke could simply use him as a door into a party, well, that would minimize danger, and he knew how Bruce always loved to keep Gotham feeling nice and safe. He’d even ask that Deathstroke make it look like an accident, so that no alarm over more high-profile murders in Gotham could be raised.

Ra’s knew how Bruce felt about that sort of thing.

(Talia knew how Bruce felt about that sort of thing, he thought, and didn’t put it past her to scold her father into some semblance of civility.)

…but all the same, he’d yet to learn his lesson, and decided a debt was a debt, and he’d never been good at paying debts off.

So Deathstroke would have a safehouse and stepping off point in Wayne Manor for one night.

…Deathstroke would not have a safehouse in the Batcave. That was off limits still, and Bruce would stay up all night on vigil if he had to, but aside from the Batcave, Bruce had… recently acquired more to worry about.

…Dick was twelve, now. Starting to want to venture out on his own. Sometimes he did so without permission. All Bruce could do was try and make sure he kept as safe as he could. Was as trained as he could. Gave him a warning, even though the rule was no one out more than an hour from the manor at night–

But it was daytime, and Dick was awake at the breakfast table on the day of the Terminator’s presence, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and pouring milk into his cereal at the big mahogany table. Some splashed out the side of the bowl.

There were bruises under his nightshirt from the days before. They showed whenever he shifted and his neckline fell or his sleeves rode up.

There wasn’t any butler to make their guest an omelette or benedict, or even to set out the bowl of cereal before Dick awoke alongside orange juice and bacon.

Dick just blinked his bleary eyes at Deathstroke, and passed down the multigrain animal shapes to him, and dug into his breakfast.

/leans into microphone

…..

I’ll proofread it and have it up tonight

here’s my place.

it’ll be streaming as soon as I reblog this to the other batman blog

‘Young Justice’ Is Being Resurrected For A Third Season

The fan-favorite 2011-13 animated series Young Justice is returning for a new season. Warner Bros. Animation have confirmed production has begun on a third seasons of the series, although they haven’t yet specified the return date or which network the show will air.

“The affection that fans have had for Young Justice, and their rallying cry for more episodes, has always resonated with us,” said Warner Bros. Animation President Sam Register. “We are excited to bring the show back for this loyal fanbase and to provide an opportunity for new viewers to discover this excellent series.”

((ahhhhhh i’m sorry for all i’ve put you through so far, omg. uuuh i don’thave time to do something worth justice to that au at the moment that I feelcomfortable with, but he’s a beta version of Steph’s past cut from ch 6!! Ihope you enjoy it and thank you for sticking with me!!))

Her dad never gave her a ton of choices. Not real ones. There were choiceslike what moves she wanted to make when he played one of his weird games withher, and there were choices like what she wanted for dinner off a menu, or oneslike, ‘are you too sick to go to school today?’ which she never was, becausethe alternative was staying home.

The first time her dad got arrested, she finally got a choice all her own,and she just couldn’t choose:

Who did she hate more? The cops, her dad, or everything?