Fandom holy hot dog water batman! (dick & babs/private)

[vaporised]

It was comical — the way Bruce never even saw his fist coming. His biggest teaching throughout the time he knew Dick was to never trust anyone and to never look away long enough to leave your back open for an attack. (There are more backstabbers out there than are all allies; Dick vaguely remembers the conversation inside the Batcave years ago. Not that it mattered anymore.) The moment Bruce turned his back, Dick had driven his fist directly through his heart; good riddance, Father. It was a rarity for Dick to contribute to the chaos presenting itself throughout the world, but he had to admit, it felt pretty damn good to indulge after such a long time. After the fight with the rest of his family and once the bloodshed had been finished, he took his final sip of sweet blood alongside Diana before they retreated into the darkness of the night, looking for their way to end this war once and for all. The war was in their favor; genocide wasn't an option. If they failed and the humans were able to eradicate the vampires, everything they've done will be for nothing. And the Lord himself cannot allow that to happen; he won't allow it to happen.

There's no doubt about getting Barbara on their side. He knows her; he can read her like the back of his hand. He loves her and she loves him, and if she loves him as much as he believes she does, then she'll make the decision herself upon their encounter. She'll allow him to bite her, allow herself to become the queen sitting on the throne right beside his, and they will take over this world. The two of them. Once a daydream and fantasy, it's growing so close, Dick can almost taste her blood inside his mouth already.

But what if things don't go his way? What if she doesn't let him sink his teeth into her throat willingly, and he was to use other methods. What if he has to kill her? It's a thought he doesn't want to think about— one he's desperately trying to push into the back of his mind because it will not happen. He's convinced it won't come down to that, but what if it does? If it comes to that, he finalizes the answer in his head: he's meant to save his people, the vampires. He'll do anything to complete that mission, no matter the cost— even if it means sacrificing her.

He's perched upon a ledge of their spot— the tallest building in Gotham that they've spent countless nights stargazing upon, discussing their future plans together about what's next. And when he sees her, he feels something boiling inside his stomach. Guilt? Maybe, but he won't admit it— he has a plan. It has to go accordingly and it will; he's convinced himself there's no other way things will go down. She'll willingly choose to change, she has to.

"I know what you're going to say." He breaks the silence, his eyes remaining still, gazing along the horizon of the stygian Gotham scenery. They've always discussed how beautiful from above it looks; too bad it's so ugly below. They can change that, though— the power is in the palm of their hands, they just have to use it right. "About Bruce, about the others— they were weak, you know? They didn't see the vision; they didn't get it."

Dick finally rises, the blood from early dripping along the ledge and down below to Gotham— his gift to the city he loves so much, the blood of Bruce Wayne and his lovely children. He turns his head in Barbara's direction, his blood-smeared lips finally coming into view. "I know you'll get it."

 

[ratsona]

They're dead. They're all dead. Brutally massacred. A hoard of corpses left in Gotham Harbor, rotting away as they succumb to their eventual fate as fish food. Left to join the countless others thrown into that ocean, becoming nothing but a nameless corpse that will never be identified, just another pile of Jane and John Doe's. A slaughterhouse in his wake. And she's left the in the carnage of it, running on half-fear; everyone else dead or cutoff from her. Out of the reach from even the great Oracle. Apart from Dick. The only person she didn't want to see. Dick had failed the Robins, turned on them and left them dead— or worse. But her Bats were alive; Cass miles into the ocean (and lucky for the living, she could topple the world given the chance) and Steph... She doesn't know where Steph is but frankly, that's good enough. The blonde has seen enough horror films to survive vampires taking over the world. Because somehow, a day that had begun fighting a giant vampire shark alongside of Harley fucking Quinn had gotten worse.

The Vampire King is one of us. Her words still echo inside. It's naïve in a way, to never have suspected him. She knew the Vampire King was standing among them but... to believe it was Dick? It never crossed her mind. Perhaps it was cruel of her to suspect Jason— maybe even a little stereotypical. And yet, he'd been the one who'd gone on the offensive to fight Dick— to protect everyone, to save Cass. But they're barely the remains of a team now, the Batgirls scattered to the wind, Jason possibly alive, and only Alfred left. How long had he been like this? When they'd hunted down Vampires together? Was he one of them then? How hadn't she suspected him? How couldn't Bruce have suspected him? But no one would have. Who could have even considered Dick— the man who did nothing but try to protect humanity with his whole heart, who did everything he could to protect his family. She'd trusted him. They all had. And he'd ripped out their hearts— literally in Bruce's case.

dick(head): hot vampire stuff and chill? dick(head): our spot ♡

Barbara had expected some form of contact— it isn't the greatest shock when Dick reaches out to her. But the message itself? That was a shock. It's... human. It's stupid and silly, the exact kind of thing that he would text her before all of this. Maybe there's enough human left in him that he won't instantly turn on her. Maybe just enough that she can reach out to— to beg him to come back. To humanity, to her. But preparing for the best means preparing for the worst as well and there's a wooden stake wedged in her bag, just enough out of her instant grasp that she might fool him into thinking that her goal isn't murder. She goes to him anyways, like a dog called to its master. She doesn't reply— leaves it on read and assumes he knows she'll turn up. After everything that had happened, after the Joker— Dick had made sure she could still come up here. Made sure that she could wedge her wheelchair through a secret opening inside the building and traverse hidden corridors to a concealed door. Far less elegant then a grappling hook but she's more then used to that by now. Accessibility isn't always pretty. The wind catches her hair, exposed to the unpolluted air of Gotham. It's dark, the sun bleeding out on the horizon; just enough for her to make out the outline of his frame but enough to protect him from the light. She's here, in their place of safety— alight like a forest fire. Her voice catches in the breeze, fading out as she wheels towards him, "Are you going to instantly try and eat me or can we talk like normal people?"

There's a mock surrender in her hands as she comes to a halt, jamming on her breaks. She's definitely not going to risk accidentally falling off this building— it's a long way down. She almost laughs. The vision. What vision, Dick? Your own warped insanity? "You can't really expect that, can you? You killed our friends. You slaughtered your brothers and you just... expect me to join you? To understand your warped crusade? This isn't right and you know it. You have too. You're hurting people, Dick." She'd had to cut off Ollie when he'd tried to fill her in on what had happened. Knowing they were dead was enough— she didn't need to hear the gruesome details of what he had done. Even if it's left her wondering how much of the blood on him belongs to the people she loves.

"Would you pick them over me? Would you kill me? " Her voice has softened, the harsh and cruel edge it had developed now long gone; haunting the air with her question. How far will he go? How much of him is left? Is there even a Dick Grayson in there or is he just a monster wearing the skin of someone she loves? Will he spill her guts out; rain them down upon the streets they know so well? Can she do it? How far can she take this? Is her weapon just for show? To play pretend monster hunter? How deep does sacrifice run? Will you sacrifice the one for the many? Kill the man you love to save the human race? Are you willing to lose so everyone else can win? "Would you snap my neck? Let me bleed out? Push me off the roof? Would you tell my father? Could you? Or are you so far gone that it wouldn't even matter? Am I just another distraction on your mission to... what? Becoming fucking Twilight? Come back to me, Dick. We can end this."

Not even Delphi could help her now.

 

[vaporised]

Moments ago, there wasn't a doubt in his mind of Barbara joining him and his cause. Now, though? The tides are changing and he's beginning to not like his odds. His worst fear is coming true: she isn't on his side as he initially thought. He believed in Barbara to understand his cause and the position he stood in; why he was doing what he was doing, but she doesn't. He can see it in her eyes and it's the reality slap to his face. He murdered Tim— his brain matter is still soaking on the bottom of his boots, pieces of his hair sticking out from the sides. Jason is dead— that's what Dick's telling himself, anyway. He knows what happened; he watched him get ripped right out of Diana's grip, a Super flying away from the scene of his grotesque crime; it doesn't mean he accepts that outcome, though. Damian is on the verge of death; they'll make use of him, though. At least he has one brother on his team— it's better than none. Bruce is dead; his heart lies on the cement ground of the Gotham Harbor— his father's blood has soaked into the palms of his suit, allowing the fabric to cling to his skin. In any other scenario, he'd be rushing to the closest sink and attempting to rid himself of the sins he's committed— wash away the blood of his friends, brothers, and father. But that would be in any other scenario; this is the present scenario and the only one that matters.

Truth be told— he feels like a fucking king. He's standing on top of the world, the Earth in the palm of his hand, gazing down at the lingering population. He'll save his people; the vampires will be able to live in this world and take what's rightfully theirs. At any given moment, he can crush this world or make it blossom like its never seen before. They could conquer the world together, hand-in-hand, if she allows it. If she looks past the minuscule vision her eyes hold, they can do anything they want and he knows it. Dick isn't quite sure of where her loyalty lies anymore, though. The voice in the back of his head is telling him not to trust her; he's starting to remember the words Bruce told him in the Batcave, the words he used against him moments prior. [Don't trust the love you assume she has for you. That's right, you assumed she'd side with you, even in the depths of hell— she's never explicitly told you she would, you've assumed.]

For a moment when she's speaking to him, Dick begins to feel that pang of guilt again and his facial expression changes. No longer does a smile curve at the edge of his soft features, but rather the pure look of grief mixed with exhaustion; the guilt of his actions begin to seep through the collected interior, and the consequences that await if he doesn't succeed in this mission become clearer through the dark haze he's experiencing. Failure isn't an option but with every breath, he starts feeling the looming nerves of: what if! If there's one thing Dick Grayson makes sure of, it's that he never fails, no matter what he's doing— today will not be the day for his first failure, he'll make sure of that. So when she questions whether he'd kill her, he doesn't hesitate. "I'd kill you if it meant saving the greater good." And deep down, there's a part of him that genuinely means it— he will kill her, and he won't hesitate. He'll sink his fucking fangs into Barbara's neck if it means his people get to live; he can live with himself, he's sure of it. (Besides, he'll have to live with the guilt of killing his father and brothers anyways— what's a little more guilt added on the silver platter?)

"You think this is easy for me, Babs? I'm mourning— I thought my brothers and I would be able to do something together for once in our goddamn lives; I had fucking hope for that! But no, instead, they believed the bullshit he spewed, just like you're doing right now! Bruce? I knew how that would end and I did us all a long-term favor. I want us to be able to end this together. I want you on my team; you've always been on my team, I don't want that to change." It doesn't have to change— we can still be a team. We can still be us; he doesn't need to speak, his eyes say it all as he peers into hers.

He takes a step forward, raising his hands in a motion of surrender. He's calculating his outcomes as he approaches her— what are the odds she'll make a move to kill him? What are the odds she'll allow him to continue approaching her at all? Dick observes her facial features carefully, choosing his next words carefully. "You know how this ends, Babs. If we can't reach a compromise..." He pauses, a sly smile toying at the edge of his lips— the vampire Lord has returned in all his glory.

"Tell me, do you want to be buried or cremated once I drain all the blood from your fucking corpse?"

 

[ratsona]

Someone smarter then Barbara might be afraid. In all fairness, there isn't a huge amount of people who are smarter then Barbara. Maybe someone with a little more common sense. He's bloodstained, still ripe and barely begun to stain his suit. She's almost tempted to ask who's blood it is but the fact and matter is: he'll answer truthfully and she isn't sure she wants that. All the goodness in him has rotted, peeled away like the outer skin of an orange & left something decayed underneath. She's staring at the skin of the man she loved, puppeted by the hands of death. He's nothing more then a marionette having his strings plucked. It was such a gentle death that no one saw it. The way the mold and rot must have set in, poisoning him and corrupting him into the creature she sees before him. Another death in the family, it seems.

There is no escape route this time. No daring quick exit for Batgirl as she takes to the skies! She's here, open & splayed; vulnerable to whatever his intentions. She can't outrun him— only outplay him. Hope that his mind is clouded by greed and hunger, enough for her to slip past his defenses and slide a stake into his heart. After all, his heart belongs to her. She can do what she wants with it.

This is her hell, her underworld. This is her punishment for stealing fire. A modern Prometheus indeed. There is no point to running, no point in unlocking her breaks and trying to escape his presence as he steps towards her. It might be easy— to make her feel little. Gaze upon down from her own his high horse as she sits snuggly in her wheelchair. But she's Barbara Gordon— both the best and worst parts of Gotham distilled by rage and determination. She will not fall this time.

He's become more then a robin, more then just a blue bird in the sky. He's an ill omen, a strix— born of a metamorphosis and forced to feed upon human flesh and blood. But this is a bloodsport and only one of them is leaving the rooftop alive tonight.

"You're mourning? You're the one who killed them! You slaughtered them like cattle. And you're not even sorry—" Maybe she should have let Ollie tell her what he'd done. It might have worked as a ploy on his humanity, remind him what he did. "And what is the greater good? One bite from a vampire and you've suddenly switched sides— all those years of humanity down the drain? No chance for a peaceful co-existence? I'll even throw in a weekly snack session if you need a bite." It's a foolish dream and an even more foolish offer, tainted with childish sarcasm. How does it go again? The Gods grew weary, the eagles grew weary, the wound closed wearily.

It feels like she's being pulled apart & put back together constantly, her seams being ripped up and clumsily sewn back together. Waves of rage and sadness, moments of clarity and clouds of doubt. "I am on your side. I promised you— I promised I'd always come when you need me. And I think you need me now more then ever. Because I have to believe you're in there." Because she's got to cling onto her childish faith for now. To believe that she doesn't have to make her sacrifice (but you always have to be the one to lose, don't you Barbara?).

And how terrible it is. As long as there is love, there will be grief. Love was here. It still is. Because she might have been willing to cleave herself faithful for him once but now her heartbeat remains steady, humming in her own ears with a dulled beat. I will not be afraid. She is a fool, a lover— someone desperately clinging to dead hopes. "Preferably neither. But I suppose if you must, I'd like to be cremated. As long as you spread them somewhere nice. Maybe let me change my will first. Actually, I supposed the slayer rule nullifies that. You murder me, you don't get the things I've left for you. But should you turn your teeth on me, Dick— I suggest you dig two graves. I won't be the only one needing it."

.

 

[vaporised]

There's something frightening about him and in a way, it almost frightens himself. When he departs from his skyscraper later tonight, will he recognize himself in a mirror? Will he be able to look into any mirror and see a gaze back at all? He can only imagine how Barbara feels, staring at him but seeing a completely different person; even from how far away he's still standing, he can feel both the sadness and anger radiate off her like the sun. He's a blood-soaked monster with an unwavering thirst; for the first time during their interaction, she's comprehensible to him. Every word she speaks hits him directly in the gut and he feels every word resonate deep inside. If there was any remainder of his humanity inside him, the words are being fed to it. She's always been his sun and now, she's the darkness that's blocking him from the rest of his future.

Dick halts himself from approaching her any further, his original smile being wiped from his face and for a split second, Dick Grayson returns. His eyes shine through the darkness and radiate the heart everyone knows him as, red being replaced with his signature blue. (The Heart of their little Universe. He's heard the title for years but right now, it makes him want to vomit. He'd rather eat that sentence whole and throw it right back up.) He wasn't expecting to lean into her resistance, nor was he anticipating resistance at all from her, but he realizes it's the humanity inside her soul— the one crucial thing he's missing, and instead has allowed to fester and rot. He's sold his soul to the Devil and replaced his pearly white teeth with those of the boogeyman, moving himself to lurk in the shadows and wait for the proper moment to strike. He'd finally chosen tonight to strike and now, the door to his newfound future has opened.

On the other side of the door stares back a terrible, dark emptiness of a cycle that'll continue on and on forever. He'll never fill the void inside him and no matter how hard she tries, she'll never be able to fill that void either. The primal instinct sets back into its place— all other things of the past don't matter anymore. He is King of the Vampires and no matter how hard she tries, nothing will be able to change that.

"I thought out of everyone, you'd be the one to see the vision. You've always been so smart... it's all gone out the fucking window though!" His voice raises at the end of his sentence, his rage becoming clearer with every passing moment. He doesn't move, though. Dick remains standing still, his eyes never straying from the redhead. "My brothers didn't see it, Bruce didn't see it, and neither do you." There's no point in continuing this. She won't change her mind— she thinks I'm a monster. (If she thinks I'm a monster, then so be it. I'll be a goddamn monster.) But regardless of what he thinks, his mouth opens and he's speaking before he can stop himself. "I slaughtered them because there was no other choice— I'm giving you a choice. I'm giving you the chance to be on my side and to help me."

Maybe there is still just a hint of humanity in his rotten soul. Maybe he is more than the blood on his clothes and the hunger growling in his stomach.

He finally takes another step closer to her, his hands still raised in a form of surrender. His peace offer for right now. "I don't want to dig any more graves. I don't want to dig one for you, but I will if you don't give me another choice." Dick pictures sinking his teeth down on the base of her neck again— he can finally envision it, and the thought doesn't terrify him anymore; it thrills him to think about how this conversation will be ending sooner rather than later. "Which, I'm starting to get the idea that you aren't going to give me another choice. That's a really dumb decision and for someone so smart."