#(dis)placed

30 points to anyone who can guess how the overarching story will go based on just these

I'm working on Bruce's bits and he is definitely a very, very sad man missing his son

“I’ll fix you some broth, then you’ll wash your face at least and sleep. Four hours minimum.”

Alfred squeezed his shoulder one more time before stepping back and around, collecting the untouched tray of food to Bruce’s left and the empty mug on his right. They both knew he wouldn’t leave this chair long enough to drag himself up to his bed — he couldn’t remember the last time he’d let himself sink into that luxury. At most, he’d let Alfred herd him onto the uncomfortable cot in the bat-clinic which was less a clinic and more a cramped branch of the cave stuffed full of all the medical equipment they kept on hand.

Clint and the others do their best to try to track down his kid.

His kid??

Oh, fuck.

I already put up the notice on the first chapter of the fic itself, but I wanted to go ahead and say it here too:

(Dis)placed is neither dead nor being deleted, but it is going to go through major edits that will add to and rather drastically alter the way the story is told. If you've read it already, then no major plot points will be changing, just added to and twisted to better suit later parts.

If you're a fan of the way it's currently written, then I encourage you to download/save it (I have the original too so if anyone wants it I'm cool sharing it on google drive or something too).

I don't have an exact timeline for when I'll start updating the fic, but just wanted to let y'all know it was happening.

He's just a tiny little sleeper agent, frozen in time because while waiting for him to grow to his peak abilities is nice, what hero's gonna hurt a baby-faced kid standing no taller than your hip or stomach or just under your chest?? Who's gonna lock up a borderline toddler??? A monster, that's who

And they fall for it, the heroes do. All they see is a traumatized kid (and no one knows any better, not really, not even Dick) and he just pulls at their fuckin heartstrings (they fall like dominoes to his charms, the pair of spies on their team the last holdouts bcs they know age and looks mean nothing but deep deep down even they have soft, squishy, compassionate cores)

At the end of the day, he's one of them. He's a hero, even if they don't approve of someone so young having been out and about in the first place no matter what dimension or universe he comes from. He's smart as a whip, more than a little traumatized, struggling, and more than one of them recognize themselves (or someone they know) in him. They bring him into the fold

They trust him

Care for him

Train him

And they forget, little by little, that they were supposed to be suspicious. Cautious. Watchful. By the time they remember, Dick's small hands are slick with warm, dripping blood saturating the carpet under his feet not far from the soon-to-be corpse of an archer whose name is lost to the waves of static silence in his head that drown out everything but the Mission and the fiery point of contact on the nape of his neck where the agent's fingers dig in hard enough to bruise.

that'd be awful. deplorable. absolutely despicable

Defining gentrification in Columbus Ohio