90210 . young justice one-shots

Nightwing x Reader

{Unedited}

Requested by: necessary_evils

Keys;

Y/N = Your Name
S/H/N = Superhero Name
Y/W = Your Weapon

~.~.~.~.~.

"I haven't got time for this!" Klarion roared, waves of red-energy coming out of the tips of his hands. "I've got better things to do." I rolled my eyes at his childishness.
"Still the same With Boy I remember," I mumbled under my breath, managing to barely dodge one of his waves of magic. He was on the hunt for some magical gem, that he claimed would help him gain more power. I didn't believe so much.

"(S/H/N) - what's your status?" Nightwing asked through the ear piece. I peaked a glance behind the tree I hid, seeing the faint outline of Nightwing's form.
"Not good," I said, "can't get a clear hit."
"Neither," Nightwing replied.
"Flank him on both sides," I suggested. I could hear the grin in his voice when he replied in agreement. I began to sneak my way to the side of Klarion, sneaking slightly into the bushes. The rest of the team were busy trying to attack Klarion, distracting him with their attempts. 

"Three. Two. Go!" Nightwing ordered, sprinting towards Klarion. I followed on the other side, raising my (Y/W) as I ran. Klarion, although slightly surprised by the shock, seemed to have already known of our attack, and conjured up a spell before firing it at us, sending us flying backwards. My back hit a tree, the back of my head connecting with it harshly and making my vision hazy. Eventually I blacked out, with a groan, that seemed unsettling deeper than usual. However, before I was able to reach unconsciousness, Robin ran over, yelling out, "Nightwing!". Why Nightwing?

Normally headaches wouldn't bother me, but this was one was stronger than what I had usually been put up to. I pursed my lips and kept my eyes shut tightly. No more magic. I thought to myself. None unless it's to do with making a headache leave. I stumbled out of my bedroom, rubbing my face tiredly. I decided to follow the faint scent of cooking. Thank God for M'gann, or else I'd-
"Dick? What are you doing up so late?" My head snapped up sharply, and suddenly I realized I wasn't where I was supposed to be. Instead, I found myself in the middle of the Wayne Manor; in front of the Bruce Wayne. 

My mouth began to flop open and closed with no words being able to be formed. 
"Master Grayson? Are you quite alright, sir?" A butler with grey hair asked, holding a pan with bacon and eggs. Words began to stumble out of my mouth.
"I-I'm not- Why am I- Y-you're-" 
"Dick? Are you okay?" 
"I'm not Di-" I brought my hands to my mouth. Why do I sound like. . . Nightwing?!
"T-there's a mistake," I said, attempting to ignore the sound of Nightwing's voice coming from my throat. 
"Dick, is there something you need to tell me?" Bruce asked, standing from his chair intimidatingly. 
"Okay, so this might be hard to believe, uh- Mr. Wayne, sir, but I, uh - I'm not Dick." Bruce didn't look so convinced. 
"What's your birthday?" I rolled my eyes.
"The 11th of May! I know because we threw a big surprise party at Mount Justice for him!" Bruce's eyes narrowed. 
"What was the day your parents died?" My eyes widened.
"Di- Nightwing's parents died?" 

Bruce's eyes widened in response.
"Wait," I said, backing up slightly, "if Dick Grayson is Nightwing. . . then you must be-" I was cut short of my sentence by Bruce tackling me to the ground, knocking the air out of my chest.
"Who are you?!" He ordered, holding his butter knife close to my neck.
"Holy shi- Batman, it's me! I-It's (Y/N)!" 
". . . (Y/N)? How are you-?" I shook my head, pulling myself out of Bruce's hold. 
"Don't know how, don't know why, don't know if he's- Oh, God." I sprinted out of the manor as soon as I had realized, not before grabbing a pair of glasses to seclude Nightwing's identity, and ran to the nearest zeta tube. If I was in Nightwing's body - then I was sure that Nightwing was in mine.