TW: a bit of fatshaming, unhealthy habits, self hate, gOre at the end, yada yada, LONG ASS CHAPTER PLS WHAT HAVE I DONE
Please note that Aria is a bit OOC with her current character because below the bold divider it's backstory stuff and Aria was younger and a bit diff then.
It's terrible. There's a vomit bucket over there.
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In the cover of darkness, a sleek figure crawled onto the roof of the Gotham City Police Department, their dark hair whipping in the wind. They made sure no soul would see them unless they wanted to be seen.
Slowly, stealthily, the figure made their way over the vents and various pipes, skittered over a concrete barrier and over a fence, and set off the Bat-signal, letting the bright yellow symbol illuminate onto the canvas of heavy grey clouds above.
Now all they had to do was wait.
Twenty minutes passed as they stood next to the signal, the cold wind sending shivers up their spine, yet they held steadfast nonetheless.
Then came the swoop of darkness.
Ah. He's finally here.
"Who are you?" A gruff voice echoed through the rooftop, a menacing, angry, tone that would've made most criminals shit their pants.
But oh no, not them. They had nothing to be afraid of.
Because they knew Batman wouldn't beat the crap out of him, even though they'd literally never met before. They knew that Batman would find him ever so valuable, especially since one little birdie was down, and another had wound up insane.
"How unseemly of you is it to be so tardy?" They spoke, their voice a melody in the darkness.
A batarang dug into the wall just inches from their face, cracking the plaster with the sheer force.
Again came Batman's voice, angrier, louder.
"Who are you?"
They laughed, putting their hands up. "I? I am Gabriel Norami. I know everything."
Suddenly a blur of darkness, and their breath was knocked out as Batman slammed them into the ground.
"I'm not here to play games." Batman growled, seeing red, a thick gloved hand circling around their neck. Nothing but fury in his eyes, nothing but rage and grief and anger.
Oh, so he did find his son's body without a head. How interesting.
They coughed up a bit of blood, but collected themselves once again. "I have information."
"I don't want your fucking information." The hand around their throat tightened even more, nothing but fire behind Batman's eyes.
"Oh, but you do-" They wheezed, the hand tightening more and more. Their lungs ached and they managed to cough out one word that they knew damn well would stop Batman's current rage filled actions.
"Aria."
Instantly the hand was gone from around their neck, rather being used to yank them up by their collar.
Gabriel wheezed for breath, chuckling just a bit at Batman's instant decrease in murder-vibes.
"Do you work for her?"
Whoomp, the murder vibes are goin' up again.
"I wish to take her down, Batsy. You see, your poor little daughter broke my heart. And it seems she's broken yours too. Poor headless Dickie. Didn't deserve that, did he?"
Murder vibes still there...
Batman growled. "I-I have no idea what you mean."
"I told you once, Mr. Wayne, I know everything. I was forced to know. I'm on your side. You can send your marksman son to kill me if I deviate."
Slow and distrusting, Batman set Gabriel down, staring holes through them . "Talk."
"Gladly."
Gabriel giggled, prancing around the rooftop as they serenaded their value into the night for him to hear.
"Well you see, after your poor son was beheaded by your neglected thought-to-be-dead daughter, the Wayne family has finally seen what Aria is capable of. She is the top assassin over at the League, has killed hundreds of men in missions and killed thousands more as sport."
Batman ignored the sick feeling growing in his stomach again, the same old sick feeling flaring up once again, thirteen days after Dick's death.
"So Talia took her?"
"Yes." Gabriel stopped prancing for a minute, tilting their head in confusion. "I thought you were supposed to be the world's greatest detective."
"CONTINUE."
"Okay, okay. So Aria's gonna take over the League, and she wants all previous connections to everyone and everything to be obliterated. So, your boys are next, probably your little one. Then your girls. Then the whole city."
Batman's eyes widened, watching as Gabriel spilled water over the grimy future that he'd been trying so hard to see. Watching as Gabriel cleared away the dirt to show him a river of blood, to show him his daughter, the one he couldn't save, take away everything he ever stood for.
I stood for you too, Aria. Batman found himself thinking. But now I must stop you. I wanted to bring you home. But you're destroying us, every touch of love we give, you send back burning hate.
"But Aria, as strong as she is, does have a weakness. You'd think that even after all Talia taught her, even after all those delicious murders and wondrous assassinations, that Aria would be cold hearted to everyone, right?"
Batman furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Weakness? Isn't that what Aria worked so hard to stomp out?
Gabriel laughed loudly, sharp teeth glinting in the stray light of the Bat-signal.
"Well, Mr. Wayne, let's just say, I was once a League assassin with your daughter. I am in love with her destructive beauty. Her glare. Her fiery rage. Her pure predatory instincts. Do you know how fucked up she got after they caught her? She was- no, is- a work of pure art."
Guilt. Bewilderment. Anger. Rage. Self-hate. Grief. Hopelessness. A bit of fatherly protectiveness.
All of that coursing through Batman's veins as he glared down at the person that proclaimed their love for his daughter.
"You what? What the fuck did you do to my daughter?"
Gabriel chortled, eyes sparkling as they looked back at Batman. " Daughter?! So even after everything she's done to you, to her brothers, you still call her daughter? Oh, Talia could learn a thing or two from you."
Batman looked away, blinking back a single tear. "I... can't give up on her. That's exactly what made her this way. I need to change her back." Batman glared over at Gabriel now, remembering what he said. "Continue, asshole."
Gabriel laughed, waving Batman's obvious distress off.
"Well, I gave Aria everything you never could. My love. My encouragement. Admiration. Praise. Support. But she threw it all away for someone else. A fat shrew of a someone." Their voice soured at the end, a snarl over their features. "And now I must make sure Aria burns. And of course, she is targeting you, so you'd be the best bet for taking her down."
Batman couldn't believe his ears. Aria....chose someone?
"A-Aria...loved someone?"
Gabriel raked a hand through their dark locks, brown eyes locking with Batman's. "Loved? She still loves."
Still... loves?
"Impossible." Batman whispered to the air, the wind howling in the distance, melding with the sounds of the nighttime city. "I've seen her in action. I've seen the glint in her eyes, the malice in her words. She's far gone, right? She... she killed her own brother, the one that was arguably the kindest to her. How could.... how could someone l-like that possibly s-still love others in the condition that she's in?"
They let out a roar of laughter, doubling over at Batman's stupidity.
How could Batman be so blind?
"Just because someone hates you doesn't mean they hate everybody."
"Who? Who is this someone?"
"This someone, is her sole weakness." Gabriel checked their nails under the yellow light, a crooked smirk over their face.
"This someone, is my little sister. And she's in town."
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"You! In the dark green!"
Aria's eyes widened, hand resting on her jade-hilted dagger. Her cloak flowed around her and the hood most definitely hid her face, and she was in the Underground. She should've blended in, right?
She turned and suddenly bumped into something really soft- a person- and Aria felt ever so short again.
A girl. A really tall, plush girl wearing a face mask. She looked to rival Jason in height. Perhaps she was taller.
So that's why she was able to keep track of me throughout the Underground. This bitch is a human lamppost.
Aria glanced in front of her and felt a stir of embarrassment as she realized what, uhm, body part she bumped into.
I'm so ready to kill this brat for giving me a faceful of mega tits. She hissed to herself, gracefully catching her balance again. The hand around her dagger tightened, but she didn't stab her. Not yet.
She'd amuse to this strangely curvy beanpole's whims, and then stab them after creating a false sense of hope and security.
Aria tilted her face up to look into a pair of warm chestnut irises with a giddy look behind them.
"Don't remember me?" She chirped, a half smirk over the girl's expression. "Kit Norami?"
The assassin ignored it, rather more bewildered at the fact her name was so strange, and also at the fact she just carelessly dropped her full name.
"Like the box?" Aria couldn't help but ask, a scoff over her lips. She spun on her heel, stalking out of the Underground, growing even more annoyed at the fact that Kit was following her.
"I'd like to think it's rather like the fox 'kit', but whatever! I want to hire you!"
"I don't work."
Kit whispered. "Yeah you do. I know everything. I need you to kill my dad. He's bad."
"I'm not for sale." Aria growled, picking up her pace. That sentence was definitely some code that she didn't care to remember.
"So you're free? Even better!"
"No, you insolent- ugh.We'll take this talk outside."
Kit smiled happily, blathering on behind her as Aria ignored her, planning her death.
When they reached a rooftop, deserted and empty below the expanse of the smoggy night sky, Aria turned to see Kit staring.
"Either you tell me what the fuck this is about, or I'll kick you off the roof." Aria pulled out her blade, but suddenly she found herself dangling over the edge, traffic speeding past below.
Just a blur. Kit was just a blur.
Aria cursed herself for keeping her guard a bit down.
Her blue green eyes widened, her blade clattering out of her hand and onto the concrete far far below as she snatched onto the fist that dangled her by her collar. "Why you-"
Kit pulled down her face mask, and suddenly faint images rushed into Aria's mind. Images of that face over hers, that face in her memories and rare good dreams.
Aria felt her hostility melt away involuntarily. She fought to keep it, fought to keep her ferocity, but even while Kit's hand dangled her over instant death, it sent waves of mellow warmth through her.
"There you go, darling." Kit whispered.
Aria's eyes glazed over in recognition. She knew this warmth.
This was the only warmth she'd ever allow for the rest of her life.
"Remember me now, Aria?" Kit smiled widely, teeth shining in the moonlight. Aria blinked, that damned smile her only weakness.
Of course.
Of course.
An acknowledging scowl scrawled over Aria's face as she twisted out of Kit's grip and flipped onto the safety of the roof again.
"You weren't supposed to be back from Berlin yet." Aria muttered, looking away.
"Things went smoothly. Might as well keep you company while you tear down the city."
Kit flashed Aria a loving smile, pushing aside a strand of Aria's hair and pressing her lips to the smaller girl's forehead. "Hmph. I can't believe you forgot me."
Aria froze to the spot at the gesture of affection, cheeks flaring red.
Damn this bastard.
She grumbled. "Not my fault Mother wipes all unnecessary memories of mine before a mission."
That was true. League assassins worked the best when the thought of their significant others or children were wiped from their mind. Often, the memory wipe took the trace of their existence away forever.
But Kit clung to the back of Aria's conscience like a leech. She never quite forgot her. She never could.
Kit frowned, rosy lips turning downward. "Well at least you didn't shoot me this time. "
"Don't jinx it."
Slender fingers raked through Aria's long hair, and the girl huffed. If only her dagger hadn't fallen over the edge of the roof, she would've given Kit a good stab.
But now she had to deal with memories of soft mornings, of blood and sweat, of waking up tangled in her limbs, almost crushed. Of blurs of grey and green, of the delicious sound of blade clashing against blade. Of colorful giggles, of huge brown eyes shining with sharp victory, of swells of pride. Of lashes fluttering against her cheek, of lips pressed against her own-
STOP.
Aria let out an audible growl, the stirring in her stomach not going away. The memories were all back, streaming in like water through a crack in the dam, and Kit could tell.
She waggled her eyebrows amusedly.
The short assassin turned away from her, growling in Arabic as she smacked at her cheeks, the blush not leaving. She stomped away, jaw clenched as she remembered more and more.
If only she'd killed Kit when she had the chance. Then she wouldn't be feeling this strange right now.
"What?! No welcome hug?!" Kit whined in outrage, skipping over to her.
"Fuck you."
"Ooh, yes please."
Aria sent a rock flying at Kit's head, and the tall girl laughed, fondly reaching out and attempting to squish Aria's cheek.
So she's chosen death?
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Kit was always on the heavy side.
No matter how tall she got, no matter how much she starved herself or trained like there was no tomorrow, Kit never lost the weight.
And it used to really destroy her confidence.
All these assassin trainees, all these perfectly sculpted women and men and enbies and even her sibling- the most perfectly sculpted enby of all- weren't as heavy as her. As... fat.
Sure, Kit was just as strong and agile and fast, but she hated her body. Hated herself.
Then came the newest "recruit". One with a lightning scar down her back, with an insanely sculpted body, those terrifyingly beautiful blue-green eyes and that dark look behind her face.
She did look a lot like Mistress Talia. Kit had figured they were related. Even their demeanor seemed the same.
She scared away everyone. Was better than everyone. Had some sort of painful story behind those hardened eyes, eyes that every young league trainee swooned over. But she stayed alone, isolated from everyone, glaring daggers into their souls.
The definite heir, they said.
Kit's sibling was obsessed and had no shame, to say the least. Giving her treats, trying to steal her away on dates with honeyed words, ignoring the few stab wounds they'd get.
Kit knew that she'd never possibly have a chance with Scary Girl, so she didn't bother.
But then one dinner time with the League trainees, Kit hadn't touched her food. She was fat enough, wasn't she? She ignored the growling in her stupid stomach and glared down at her food, not touching it.
Then suddenly, a shadow had loomed above her.
"You got a problem?" A voice sliced through her self-hate reverie, like daggers into the silence.
Kit looked up in terror to see Scary Girl glaring down at her, blue green eyes ever more terrifyingly enchanting up close.
"N-No?"
Kit frantically looked around to see the dining hall had cleared out, her simp sibling gone too, leaving just Scary Girl and herself in this room. She also noticed the security cameras were stabbed out.
Was Scary Girl finally disposing of the trash that she was?
"Why haven't you touched your food?" Scary Girl had growled. "Is it... bad?"
Kit shook her head no, heart racing at their closeness, even though Scary Girl wasn't as close as Kit would've liked her to be in her fantasies.
"I... I don't eat dinner."
"Why?" Scary Girl scoffed. "You worked twice as hard as any of those Neanderthals today. You'll get sick, bastard."
Kit looked away, her hands self-consciously dropping to her thighs, and Scary Girl looked down and realized.
SLAM!
Kit yelped as Scary Girl had brought down her fist onto the table, denting the metal.
"You think your body is a problem? You will eat. You're fucking fine the way you are, got it, scum?"
Talk about angry reassurance- Kit had thought to herself, looking up at Scary Girl, a few tears in her brown eyes.
Silence.
Scary Girl cursed in Arabic, running a hand through her long locks in frustration, glancing to see the tears start to streak down Kit's round face.
"You're, uh, doing that...thing with your face. That... weird thing."
"C-Crying?" Kit sniffled in pure disbelief. Scary Girl nodded confusedly, before hardening up again.
She shoved the food towards Kit, who instinctively refused.
She pushed it closer to Kit, and the girl pushed it back.
Scary Girl growled, pulling out her wild card.
"I was on dinner duty tonight. If you don't eat every bite of my food, I will take that as a fucking challenge. Now, do you want to die?"
Kit yelped a teary no.
And Scary Girl plopped down on the table, grabbing Kit's spoon and jamming it into her mouth.
"Then eat, idiot."
Kit chewed and swallowed, rubbing away the tears on her face. Scary Girl glanced around the room, to check if anyone was around, and then jammed another spoonful into Kit's mouth.
"It's-mmh-good-" Kit muffled out through the food.
And for the first time in forever, Kit had seen Scary Girl actually smile.
That was how they met. Kit would never forget it.
Ever since, Scary Girl hovered over Kit during all meals, making sure she ate, and then snuck to the bathroom and stood outside listening to make sure Kit wouldn't throw up the food. Then Scary Girl started training with her after finding out that Kit was the only one that could even keep up with her at training tests.
Clashes of swords, yells of victory and battle cries, the spark of blade against blade, the harsh crimson that would drop from their wounds and the huffy yet gentle fingers that would patch them both up again.
Both girls with a huntress look behind their eyes, a hard steel glint behind their expressions, both of them natural killers delighting in the presence of another instead of shying away.
Slowly,their relationship blossomed even through all bloodshed and mind-twisting.
Aria went from watchdog, to partner, to friend, to lover.
Aria still found a piece of her past self's ability in her. Her ability to love never truly left as soon as she laid eyes on Kit.
So what if she wasn't conforming to the standard that assassins had? Kit could fight so damn well, she was the only person who could keep up with Aria in training, and she was a deadly woman all in all, a kill count almost as high as hers.
Which was very attractive.
For some reason, Aria liked Kit. Aria could not kill Kit. Aria wanted to, because she knew how destructive that mellow feeling of love truly was, but whenever she tried to raise the dagger, Kit's curious smile would cause her heart to twist and sob rainbows.
She somehow, in her rough and brash way, made Kit accept her body, and found herself falling harder for that same body . She'd never admit it, though.
(It was just so squishy!And soft! Like a cloud! So curvy and perfect and the stretch marks were so cute- Plus the mega tits were a big bonus, wink wink.)
Aria wanted to destroy it all. Wanted to hate Kit, wanted in a twisted way for Kit to hurt her to give her reason to kill her and end her vulnerability.
But that hidden predatory grin of Kit's, that manic laugh as bullets flew, that smile that shone through the bloody nights they wreaked upon the world- oh, Aria wanted this sweet gunpowder romance more than anything.
And that sweet gunpowder romance, that is what kept the true Aria alive inside her manic killing machine persona.
********************************************
Cold.
All Dick felt was cold.
He shivered, eyes flashing with memories of green and wind and lightning and a final sunset reflected in crystalline eyes.
Where... where was he?
He slowly blinked awake, confused, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.
A cellar? No, some sort of bunker. There were iron deadbolts holding sheets of reinforcement metal to the wall, heavy metal doors that were locked with a keypad and code, and metal sleeves full of surgical supplies on the walls.
Dick raised an eyebrow, the fog in his head clearing away as he noticed a green speedster suit hanging from a hook on the far wall,
Lightspeed?
No.
"Aria." Dick rasped.
Fairy lights. Sunset. Speed, lighting, her lilting voice heard by his ears for the first time in ages. The sunset, the cliff, the dagger to his neck.
Dick willed some strength into his bones, tried to move from his bed, only to realize he'd been chained in, locked into place.
No, no, he needed to find Aria. Find Aria and tell her how much he needed her, find Aria and bring her home.
He struggled in his restraints, the smell of blood and damp shadows registering in his nose.
"Let me out!" Dick shouted, throat aching deeply when he tried to talk, blood coughing up to the corners of his lips.
If he was here, then where were the others? Damian? Jason? Timmy? Duke?
Oh, he had promised to be home by sundown. He could sense that it was well into the night. Alfred would kill him.
He was regretting storming out of the Manor after that phone call with Bruce, regretting going completely alone. Now he was being presumably held hostage by his psycho little sister, and the whole vigilante world was going mad with his disappearance.
Dick turned his head and felt his blood run cold.
He tried not to throw up, eyes widening as Dick's bottle blue eyes locked with his face, identical glassy eyes staring back, and he let out a scream.
A scream of desperation.
Because the vigilante world and his family weren't looking for him.
Dick screamed again, trying to get out, trying to get away from the dreadful thing that was in that container.
His family wasn't looking for him because he was dead.
Beheaded.
And his head was right there, in that container on the table, a trophy for Aria to burn when she saw fit.