The Young Justice: Animated Anonymous Fic Meme

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Prompt Post -Part One! [CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS]
yj_anon wrote in yj_anon_meme

Welcome to the Young Justice: Animated anonymous fic meme!

How does it work? Basically, you leave prompts, and people fill them with glorious fic. Pretty simple. Anonymity is allowed for those that feel nervous or awkward requesting or filling, but it isn't actually obligatory. Unlike a lot of memes (like kink memes) this doesn't have a particular focus beyond the fandom. Het, gen, slash, femslash, anything else you can think up? Welcome! Crack, drama, angst? Go nuts!

However, we do have some...

Rules and guidelines.

• Animated canon only, please. Crossovers are fine, so is integrating comics/etc. stuff into animated canon, but no outright Young Justice comic stuff, please.
• Be reasonable. Polite. Etc. You may be anonymous, but that is no excuse for being ridiculous.
• Likewise, be considerate in your prompting. Trigger warnings are appreciated (for content that may seriously upset people with past experience, such as rape/non-con, self harm, suicide, etc.- at the absolute least, please make it clear what the fic contains about before someone stumbles across it halfway through!), and please be careful with your wording. Memes like this often touch on some sensitive material. If you feel somebody has posted an actively offensive prompt, please either PM me or use the mod post here to bring it to my attention.
• One prompt per post, please!
• Repeat after me: Your Kink Is Not My Kink. Don't attack people's prompts because they aren't your cup of tea!
• Look, just don't wank up a storm in general. I'm sure we can all manage, right? :)
ETA: Please do not reprompt things until we reach a second part. In addition, I encourage anyone looking for things to fill to go back through previous pages. A lot of people have old prompts tracked, so your fills will still be seen!

This is the 'flat' view of the page; it shows comments in the order they're posted, rather than as threads. Makes it easier to see new fills on previous pages.

I'll look at getting a Delicious or Diigo or something-or-other archive up for filled prompts if it gets to the point we feel it'd be useful. In the meantime, have fun!

ETA: We now have a discussion post if you need one!

ETA: I need help with archiving! Also, we set up a fill post.

Can you please leave links to any fic you write there. See the post for more details. Thanks!

ETA: GUYS. I am officially making the 'PM me about offensive prompts' thing obligatory. Please, I have difficulty keeping up without your wonderful help!

Incidentally, being polite includes not telling people they're being 'too sensitive' for being bothered by things. Just sayin'. This place is a safe space, in so much as I can make it one, and I don't really like the rhetoric of 'oh, if you're offended you're oversensitive' that I'm seeing in a couple places? Remember: people may have had different experiences than you that influence their view. Don't assume. :)

In-progress Delicious account.

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Identity part 1

(Anon apologizes for any fail, and also for taking so long. Sorry! D:)


When Aqualad rushed into the room, eyes wilder than anyone thought they'd ever seen before, Robin was already conscious again. But pale, and so small, in the cot that had been set up. Surrounded by medical equipment: monitoring his condition, an IV, other things. And tight, tense knots of people throughout the room—most of the other five beds had been pushed to the sides, to make room for Green Arrow, Red Tornado and Black Canary, even Superman.

And the rest of Young Justice was there, of course. Superboy looked almost as pale as Robin did, and shaky. M'gann was pacing, and she looked almost slightly—blurred, like she was only barely holding onto her shape. Artemis looked furious, her grip on her bow white-knuckled, and Kid Flash was almost invisible, pacing up and down the corridor, through the room. He skidded to a halt next to Aqualad, meeting his eyes, and he looked—scared. Terrified. He had to know that Robin was going to live, but—but they'd never expected this. Nothing like it.

Intellectually, they'd known. That there was always, always a chance that they were going to end up hurt, or worse, on any of their assignments. It just—hadn't happened. They'd gotten close (Superboy had almost killed them) but it hadn't—

Aqualad realized that Kid Flash was still spattered with blood, dried now until it was dark against the red of his costume. From where he'd carried Robin here. He was about to speak, drew in a shaky breath, but then he was interrupted.

“Who's there?” Robin asked, voice unexpectedly—unexpectedly weak. And that was wrong, too.

And he sounded afraid. Which was almost unimaginable, even though it was happening.

“Aqualad,” Kid Flash said, his expression darkening even more until it was also angry. Aqualad wanted to say something, but he didn't know what—didn't want to push for information, with the adults there—and instead moved forward until his teammate could see him.

“I really look... that bad?” Robin managed, attempting a smile. It wasn't very good, pained and sloppy with muscles not responding quite right (he had to be on a lot of painkillers to even try talking), but it was an attempt. And Kaldur gave him one in return.

“Maybe worse,” he said, and sat down. Reached out, then hesitated, because he really didn't want to cause his teammate any more pain.

He should have been there. Should have known that it wasn't a good idea to send him in alone—shouldn't have assumed that it would be safe—none of it.

“I'm sorry,” he said, voice low, and swallowed, hard. He'd need to talk about this to Aquaman, after everything was done. His king had to—he needed guidance. Because this had gone, so terribly, wrong.

“Don't apologize,” Robin whispered back, just as faint, although more like he was falling asleep, or too weak to keep talking; “It was my fault. Sorry...” And his eyes drifted close.

And Aqualad frowned, because that was wrong, too. More wrong. It wasn't his fault—he'd almost died, almost bled out in an abandoned warehouse, and he was apologizing...?


Identity part 2


Batman still wasn't there. It was—Superboy was getting angrier and angrier, because Superman—because Superman, and he'd made it here, at least for a few hours—he'd been called off to save the world, fix some disaster or another, but he'd arrived.

(He wasn't going to think about if he'd show up if Superboy was the one hurt.)

Batman hadn't managed to make it here.

He looked over as Aqualad stood up—decisively but calmly, and he was tense, muscles knotted, but doing his best to hide it—and drifted over to sit next to Robin, taking the other boy's place. He... He hadn't wanted to sit too close, earlier. Superman still didn't trust him, and he hadn't wanted to get banned from the room, for—for being too close to the other boy when he was so weak.

It was strange. Abnormal. Even though—even though, physically, Robin was kind of weak compared to him. He wasn't, in all the other ways. And now he looked—small, and broken, and it was too close to what he'd tried to do to him—he'd tried to do before.

He took a deep breath, shaky. And tried to keep from crying.

And tried not to think about Batman, who actually—who actually knew his—his sidekick, or partner, or protégé, whatever you called it, actually had—worked with him, spent time with him, had to care about him, except he still hadn't shown up.

“I wonder where Batman is,” Kid Flash said, unexpectedly, zipping into the room fast enough that only Superboy could see him as anything more than a blur, his voice disturbing the heavy silence punctuated by Robin's slow, harsh breathing.

“Yeah,” said Superboy, and frowned even deeper.


Two hours later, Batman arrived. He ran in, enough to startle Aqualad—he'd been lost in thought, and he wasn't sure he'd ever seen the Batman, avenger of the night, running. Not like this, worried and—something. He looked angry.

“Who is it?” Robin asked again, something he'd been doing every time someone knew entered the room. Aqualad had taken it as a natural extension of his normal curiosity, his outgoing nature and of course the slight paranoia Batman seemed to have instilled in him; immobilized, unable to move—and with everyone on the team also there to make sure that he didn't move, even if he tried it—he still wanted to know what was going on around him.

Before Aqualad could answer, Batman was speaking. “Two-Face has been—dealt with,” he announced, voice ominous and final. He didn't want to ask what “dealt with” meant, exactly, but—good. Some part of him was fiercely, angrily satisfied.

There was a pained sound, and struggling. Aqualad whipped around—Artemis was trying, more and more frustrated, to hold Robin down—was he trying to sit up?—and was clearly having trouble keeping him immobilized but trying not to hurt him. “Stay still!” she commanded, voice fierce, but Robin just seemed to struggle more.

“Sorry,” Robin was saying, around pained gasps. “Sorry—I should have been more careful...”

Superboy tensed up first. Then Aqualad understood: he was apologizing. To Batman.

“You weren't careful enough,” Batman announced, voice as cold and impersonal as it had been. And something fierce lurking underneath it, around the ragged edges of the icy statement.

M'gann stood up at that, walked in front of him. “He was almost killed,” she said, eyes bright, and she seemed—larger than she normally was, and far, far more threatening.

“Exactly,” Batman said, and Aqualad growled, deep in his throat, something he tried to avoid doing because it seemed to make humans—most Atlantians, too—nervous. “He needed to be more careful.”

“Please,” Robin said again and, slowly, Aqualad stood as well. Went to stand next to Miss Martian, looked Batman in the eye—harder when he was still taller than him, when his eyes were hidden, but he wasn't going to back down. This was his team, his to protect, and—and something was wrong here.

After a second, Superboy joined them. Robin had stopped struggling, mostly, and Artemis slowly let go of him, and turned and stood—guarding him.

Like they all were. Except why did they feel like they needed to? From Robin's mentor.

Identity part 3

“It's over,” Batman said, finally, voice hard and—and something, Aqualad still couldn't figure out what emotion, exactly, was lurking underneath everything, and he gave them all a hard look, and turned to leave.

Once he was gone down the hallway, there was a sudden clamor. Miss Martian's voice managed to cut across the clamor: “What did he mean, it's over? Is he taking you off the team?”

“No,” Dick said, bleakly, not even really trying to hide that he was crying. “I'm not Robin anymore.”

There was a horrified silence.

“He can't do that,” Kid Flash announced immediately. “I mean, he can't...”

“He can,” Robin said, voice hitching a little.

In the corner, Black Canary—she'd been watching the entire thing, unsure where or how to step in—muttered a curse, voice poisonous. Then another one.

“J—just like that?” M'gann sounded horrified. Aqualad couldn't think of anything to say at all.

There was a blunt, silent moment as everyone tried to process what had happened. What was happening.

“I don't have anywhere to go,” Robin said finally, voice very small and—and afraid.

And it was wrong.

Superboy's knuckles cracked audibly as his hands clenched into fists. Kaldur cursed—Batman had been Robin's guardian, too? It was unspeakable—and Wally spoke up. “You can come with me,” he said, voice shaky. “You can live with me.”

Robin tried to smile again, and Superboy left suddenly, retreating to the gym. For the next hour, you could hear the thunderous crashing throughout most of the base.


Batman showed up early on the day Robin was to be released from the small infirmary the base had. He hadn't heard from—from Dick, not Robin anymore—since he'd visited his charge after the accident. He'd been expecting calls: arguments, flat-out denial, and eventually bargaining: when can I go back, how long does this last, can I still participate in some Young Justice missions, what does this do to my training schedule, what sort of safety measures to I have to promise to enact and follow to be allowed back?

The silence was—unnerving. Dick wasn't very good at silent. Any attempts at sulking turned too quickly into shouting; any attempts to brood turned into doing something else to relieve his boredom. He was often disagreeable, argumentative, about as biddable as a dozen cats, and too devious for his own good—that was familiar. Expected. Something that could be planned for, and around. He knew the boy.

But he'd never expected this. Which was a bad sign (if he could misjudge someone so thoroughly even when they were that close to him) and also—worrying. Because it wasn't normal for Robin to be this quiet.

He'd never gone this long without speaking to his charge. He'd called, but Robin had been asleep or not interested in talking to him. He'd shown up twice, and been turned away twice, by Aqualad and then the Red Tornado, and finally Black Canary, who he hadn't been able to intimidate. He'd broken into Robin—Dick's room after that, and his charge had been remarkably silent and lethargic, replying flatly to any direct questions and otherwise remaining silent. The Martian Manhunter's niece had interrupted them after a while, striding into the room and positioning herself over Robin's bed like she was protecting him. She'd tried to slap him, something a lot like hatred in her pretty brown eyes as he'd grabbed her wrist before she could make contact with his face, her flesh melting away from his grasp. But she hadn't tried to attack him again, so he'd let her go, just made a note about the potentially threatening behavior to a member of the League.

Robin was sulking.

It was working, too. Batman was irritated and on edge, because it just didn't seem quite right...

Identity part 4

And he showed up to a mostly-empty base. Black Canary was in, puttering in the kitchen, making a sandwich. She gave Batman a jaundiced look as he entered, cape sweeping behind him.

“I see you showed up,” she said, sourly.

“Where's Robin,” he demanded, filling his voice with cold insistence.

“Don't see why you should know,” Canary said, infuriating as she turned her back to him, back ramrod-straight and muscles tense with something like fury. “Anyway, he's not Robin anymore, remember?”

Batman ground his teeth together. He wasn't going to reveal Dick's identity to this—woman, not here and now. Not while she was keeping him from his protégé. She was lucky she was a hero, too—or he'd have had her bleeding on the floor long before now. “My charge, then. Where is he?”

She turned around to look him straight in the eye, expression even icier than his. “Your charge told us to call him Dick. He went home with Wally—Kid Flash, excuse me—because he is under the impression that he no longer has a place to live. In addition to having lost a large portion of his identity.” She smiled, or at least showed her teeth. It wasn't friendly.

Batman stood in the middle of the Young Justice kitchen, frozen.


Wally was trying to be understanding. Robin really appreciated it, more than he'd ever thought—this situation wasn't supposed to happen, because he wasn't—he was supposed to be better than this. He was supposed to have done better. If he hadn't failed, he wouldn't—he wouldn't need to be punished for it. Or not even punished. He'd—failed, he guessed. He was a liability, and Batman couldn't afford that, and that made sense, and it—

Hurt more than he could really describe, or even feel all at once—he kept on turning the idea around in his head, and every time hurt more and more, different facets of the grief. No more Alfred. He would never go plunging off the roofs of Gotham again. He'd need to figure out what to do with his life. Batman would never—

But Wally had needed to run off to save the world, or at least a bank or two. Which Robin also understood. He hadn't expected to resent it so much, though.

So, so much.

But he'd messed up. His own fault that, in the end, he hadn't been good enough. And if he'd died, he could end up revealing Batman's secret identity, because if they'd recognized Dick Grayson, adopted son of Bruce Wayne, then it wasn't hard to figure out who Batman was from there, and that was unthinkable. It just couldn't happen.

And if Batman couldn't afford to have Robin anymore, then there was no real reason for Bruce Wayne to want Dick. If his disappearance was noted there'd probably be some announcement about how he'd gone off to Europe to an expensive, exclusive boarding school. The same plan that had been in place in case he ever died. Which had always been possible.

The suburb Wally lived in was not a particularly good place for climbing buildings. But that was okay—all of his gear was gone, anyway. Batman had made that clear when he'd cleared out his room. Robin—no, he was just plain Dick now—wasn't much of a superhero, or even a sidekick, without the tools he'd used. The other downside to not having powers—it could all get taken away so easily.

He hadn't—he hadn't expected it to. He'd kind of thought...

He'd thought that he mattered more than that.

But he'd been wrong. Just like he'd been wrong on the mission, and almost gotten himself killed.

Identity part 5

He still hurt, and was moving pretty slow. But it had been easy to climb out of his window and onto the roof, perching in the shadow of the suburban chimney so the neighbors wouldn't see. It was a little cold, in his pajamas. But he didn't really have anything else to wear. One pair of jeans and a few shirts, but he hadn't kept more than a single change of civilian clothes at the Young Justice base. Maybe Batma—no, maybe Alfred would mail him some stuff from home. Except it wasn't home anymore.

A sudden shiver of movement to one side made him look over, nerves still as paranoid as they'd needed to be in Gotham, on (mostly) surreptitious missions with Young Justice. When he picked out, with long familiarity, Batman's cowl and cape against the shadows, he flinched so bad—he tried not to, tried hard, he could at least try to keep his dignity, even though—even though, damn it, he was going to start crying again, maybe—he flinched hard enough that he almost fell off the roof, at least tumbled partially down it—he could always catch himself on the gutter. Instead he steadied himself, forced down his gasp, and tried to stand proudly as his mentor—not anymore—joined him.

It was very quiet. There was a dog barking, blocks away. A few cars, people coming home late from the office, coming home after a dinner out.

“C-could,” Robin began, and then swallowed hard, refusing to stutter again. “You send me some of my clothes?” He knew photos wouldn't be allowed—too likely to give away secret identities. Maybe it didn't matter now that he'd already told the team—his old team—to call him Dick. They hadn't had anything to call him other than “Robin,” and that had hurt.

“I'm sorry,” Batman said, after a long moment, and the prickling in his eyes Robin had been trying to fight down came back harder than before, tears starting to coalesce. And then, humiliatingly, fall.

He looked down, biting his lip. So it was a surprise when arms suddenly locked around him, stiff and unwelcoming but it—he was being hugged. And, damn it, he couldn't—he hugged him back, because it still hurt so much and he didn't know what was going on—he'd be told off for that if he was still Robin, for not thinking critically enough about what was going on around him—but he couldn't help it, he wanted this too badly—

“I'm sorry,” Batman repeated again, and Robin didn't know why.

So he asked. “Why?” he managed, trying hard—just barely managing—to not have his breath catch in the middle of the word, although he couldn't stop the attenuated sob that followed.

“I didn't—” Batman began, and he sounded like he was at a loss for words, which was almost scary. “You're my son. You were never... You're not just Robin. Dick's—you can always come home. I didn't mean...”

Robin backed up a careful step to stare at him, uncomprehending. His eyes were red and swollen, face blotchy, nose beginning to run. He felt wrung out.

“I'm sorry,” Batman said again, and he sounded ashamed.

It was almost enough to convince Robin that this was all a dream.

“You're not just Robin,” Batman said, fighting for words. “You're Dick Grayson, and you will always have a home. I wouldn't—I would never disown you for—for what happened. It might have been preventable, but it wasn't—it wasn't about you. There's nothing wrong with you. I'm... sorry that you don't know that. No, I'm sorry that I never, —never made that clear.” He stopped, awkward, cleared his throat. “You can always come home.”

A long pause.

Dick wiped his eyes, then wiped them again. Then gave up.

“I—I can go back?” he said finally, wincing again at how stupid it was to say that. Batman had said so, but—but he couldn't believe it.

“Yes,” Batman said slowly, looking down, face twisted and hard, which was familiar, but Dick didn't think that he'd ever seen that emotion before.

“Even though I'm not Robin,” he said, and that was hard—too hard, maybe, living there but only half himself.

“...You can,” Batman said at last, the words wrenched out of him. “You're Robin, too. I'm—”

And Robin heard the “sorry,” even though Batman didn't say it again. And he tried to smile, and almost succeeded.


OK, for the record, I was having a really, really shitty evening when this came in and it was bloody cathartic to read.

Just... oh my god. This is stunning. The whole team coming together for Dick. M'gann tried to SLAP BATMAN. Aqualaaaad. Black Canary.

Bruce being BRUCE and kind of a failure at anything remotely normal and human, and how it doesn't even seem to have occurred to him that Dick doesn't think he'll be welcome back without Robin.

And Robin, oh, I just want to hug him. The identity loss. Blaming himself. Seperating Batman and Bruce so easily.

And HUGS and oh god this is getting incoherent, but just, thank you so much anon.

Writer-Anon Here

I am so so glad you like it, OP, and I'm so sorry about your evening/day--I hope things look up for you, and I'm really glad that I could help even a little. I mean, I'm not much--I just fan-write on the Internet, you know?--but I really appreciate being a part of fandom, so I try my best to help fandom back, and maybe I am being ridiculously cheesy right now (I am,) but I really, really am glad that you like it. ♥ ♥ ♥

And it really was a fantastic prompt, and I really appreciate the idea--it just popped into my head as this one scene, the team physically standing between Robin and Batman, and it barely made it into the actual ficbit, but I love that sort of team dynamic. And then there were all these other great bits, and I REALLY WANTED M'gann being the one to try and physically attack Batman (because she'd probably have a better chance against him than pretty much anyone else (lol) and there's been a few hints about her ~dark past~ and also I really like writing her with more depth than "cheerleader yay I'm passive!"), that was really clear in my head, and of course Wally offers Dick a home.

And Black Canary is really interesting because in my head she's all kind of stand-offish, you know? And yet she's still better-adjusted than Bruce and she can tell a really fucked-up scenario when she sees it. Because, exactly like you say, Bruce is kind of a failure at normal and human, and he just doesn't get it and awwww, Robin. *wibbling now*

(Confession time: I am such a terrible person and also PMSing up to here and back, and I definitely got a little teary-eyed when I wrote the hug. I FEEL BAD for being so sappy about my own writing DX;)

And yeah, identity loss. Because I mean, a significant portion of Robin's life is that whole crazy superhero deal, and it would be SO HARD. So that was the other part of the prompt that grabbed me--having a whole portion of your life shut down like that, by someone you love and admire. Oh man, how could I not write it?

So, thank you too, OP! For requesting, because I loved writing it, and I'm so glad you like it. <3

Re: Identity part 5

Oh my god oh my god oh my goddddddddd

This was heartbreaking to read and I lovelovelove how they all had a united front about protecting Robin. And Superboy's helplessness, I felt it well. Awesome job, anon. You should be given a medal or something for this fill.

Re: Identity part 5

Ugh, I cried so hard reading this, okay.

“Who is it?” Robin asked again, something he'd been doing every time someone knew entered the room. Aqualad had taken it as a natural extension of his normal curiosity, his outgoing nature and of course the slight paranoia Batman seemed to have instilled in him; immobilized, unable to move—and with everyone on the team also there to make sure that he didn't move, even if he tried it—he still wanted to know what was going on around him.

This whole bit, where he's just waiting for Batman and asking who's there whenever someone enters the room. I can't tell you how much my heart broke for him. I just. This is amazing and painful. Thank you for writing it.

Re: Identity part 5

Heart breaking but believable. This story really drives home their feelings and it's impressive.

Re: Identity part 5

So, so amazing. You rock Anon, so freaking much. <33

Re: Identity part 5

So, so amazing. You rock Anon, so freaking much. <33

Re: Identity part 5


That was amazing. I love the team coming together to defend Robin. I love how clueless Robin and Batman are to how screwed up their dynamic is. I love Miss Martian going to slap Bruce, and the only thing that registers in Bruce's mind is "hmm.. she was willing to attack a member of the League..." NO BRUCE SHE WAS JUST PISSED AT YOU!!

This was a fantastic fic. Wonderful job!

Re: Identity part 5

brb crying forever

Seriously, this is one of the best YJ fanfics I've read, especially dealing with Batman and Robin's relationship. I know it's been said already, but I love how you had the team immediately come to Robin's aid during this whole thing. I mean, it takes guts to stand up to the Batman, and they did so without a second thought, simply because one of their own was hurting. Robin's loss of identity is so well-written, and when he said “I don't have anywhere to go,” my heart broke into tiny pieces. And that last scene with Batman and Robin, I just - wow. So powerful. Thank you so much for this, it made my day.

I totally was really good!

Re: Identity part 5

Now, don't mind me, just going to sit over here and cry like a little girl.

Oh Robin! *hugs* And Batman having no idea how Normal People act. And M'gann ready to hit Batman for it! And oh, the hug at the end...

My heartstrings, they've been pulled.

*rub nose* why do I feel like hugging Batman rather than Robin....= =

Re: Identity part 5

I cried so, so hard at this. I read maybe one fic other than yours that has made me react so badly. I feel like my heart has been ripped out.
This is absolutely stunning and so very *them*. Bruce's fucked up parental skills, his inability to show affection properly, his completely warped sense of preservation- thinking that Dick would be better off a civilian than being a superhero and facing the big baddies in the streets. Dick thinking he's Robin, and Robin's the only thing he is- assuming that without his role he's unneeded, *unwanted* and *unloved*. As if cutting him off from the job cut him off of who he is. The fact *he* is the one to leave Batman's care because he truly believed he wasn't wanted, or needed or useful anymore. Because he believed he failed. It's such a beautifully broken relationship, and it tears me apart to watch them dance around each other because Bruce doesn't know how to act human and Dick's too lost at this stage to let those kinds of things pass him by. You've portrayed it beautifully.

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