#;; ( who run the world? GOTHAM CITY SIRENS )

[celaenaeiln]

Dick Grayson's talent for manipulation literally brings the world to its knees.

Part 1 post

My absolute favorite trait about Dick aside from his craziness is his ability to control every single person in existence. The best part is, he's so clever in the way that he does it that people almost never notice.

Bart Allen

"Oh! Ahh..you're trying to get my DNA sample. You need my spit! Ha! That's such a Dick Grayson thing to do."

Bart knows!! Dick's brilliantly sly okay. Honey catches more flies that vinegar? He takes it so far that breaks he the ceiling with it because by the time he's done, people don't even know they've been manipulated. And if they do, then what can they do about it? He always wins.

With friends and family he does it to make them feel better without being so overt and discomforting them.

Justice League: Road to Dark Crisis

Jon came to him when he was feeling lost and upset and Dick set up the perfect conditions to encourage him and pick him up. He's just so good at doing what he's doing but he does it for all the right reasons.

But the extent Dick can go trick and manipulate someone is off the charts. A virtuoso.

In a Titans comic, Dick literally spent MONTHS acting depressed and weak after Donna, Wally, and Garth were kidnapped to another dimension by a villain just so he could trick the villain into thinking that his career was over and bring him into the same dimension so Dick could take him down.

He fooled everyone.

Teen Titans: The Silver Age TBP 2 Part #1

"Batman taught me how to be a totally convincing actor! So if the only way you could send me here with your ring was if I filled my brain with evil thoughts, I just faked it! My facial expression was pure evil-but my mind remained pure good." MONTHS.

He planned, pretended, and calculated every single fiber of his own mind and body until the whole world was fooled by his acting. He tricked an interdimensional being who had psychic access. That means he was so extraordinarily manipulative, he can control his own thoughts inside his head to trick someone else. Voldemort's legilimens has nothing on Dick's talent.

Like Bart, sometimes his allies are aware of this like with Selina-

Gotham City Sirens Issue #23

Selina's literally having a mental breakdown trying not to fall for Dick's manipulation and tricks.

But even if they know he's manipulating them, they still are forced to fall for it anyway.

Gotham City Sirens Issue #23

"Damn it."

Like a goldilocks mad scientist - he does it just right.

His acting is just so on point that he outschemes the schemer.

When the Crime Syndicate (Superwoman, Ultraman, Owlman, Power ring, etc) arrive on Earth to take it over when Dick is Batman, Dick needs to do something fast. But to make things worse, there's a being that's so powerful, that both the Crime Syndicate and Justice League combined have a snowball's chance in hell of defeating him.

So what does Dick do? He runs the game.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

"Of course he had a plan the whole time. He's Batman. He always has a plan."

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

He tricks everyone.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

And in the end, the Justice League wins and Dick saves the world.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

I love how they characterized Owlman as a snake because that would make Dick a mongoose since mongoose eats snakes. And do you know what Mongoose represent in folklore? Action, adventure, boldness, fearlessness, impulsiveness, independence, optimism, rebellion, resistance, resourcefulness, speed, adaptation, agility, quickness, intelligence and wit. All characteristics that define him.

He plays the world like a chessboard, always five steps ahead.

He always has an ace hidden up his sleeve.

His thoughts are always masked behind a disarming smile.

He has mastered the art of manipulation.

And that's while he's outright fighting. His subtlety is just so seductive.

Take a look at the way he smoothly evades answering in this panel -

Grayson Issue #9

He's so smooth. She's constantly on the watch but she instantly fell head over heels for his charms in a half a heartbeat, that's just how good he is.

Grayson Issue #10

He's a master manipulator who knows exactly what to say and how to act to always end up winning.

It's seriously such a shame that one of his greatest skills and talents isn't talked about more because this man?! Flawless.

He's the spy everyone on TV wishes they could be. He's the type of spy people read about in history books and marvel at the ease, grace, and legendary story he leaves behind. He's the spy that everyone knows and dreams of in their fantasies.

Nightwing (2016)

And oh how they so are.

He can just get people to do whatever he wants.

There's a reason why Batman's only contingency plan against Nightwing is "Let's hope he fucks up." Because with his intelligence, skill, power, charisma, and raw talent - he's goddamn unstoppable.

[froot-batty]

next batch of designs are done! gotham city sirens time >:) blurbs about them under the cut, along with explanations of flags and neurodivergencies!

Pamela Isley came from a rural flower farm a long ways from Gotham. Her parents let her run wild from a very young age, and one of her favorite places on their property to go was the pond, deep in the woods, where everything grew just a bit too tall and nothing looked quite as it should've. Pamela didn't know that this pond was actually highly polluted by the dumping of experimental chemicals from a nearby "research" laboratory. She thought being able to communicate with the plants - the Green, she called it - was completely normal.

...Until the people from that laboratory heard about the mysterious girl helping the plants grow stranger. They came to Pamela's parents to ask if it would be possible to study it, and they, not realizing what exactly that meant, agreed. They whisked it away to a facility in Gotham, where Pamela would end up never seeing it's parents again.

She was kept there for the rest of her childhood and into her adulthood, being experimented on until she twisted into the plant beast that she is today. When she escaped, it came after years of hiding the true strength of her powers, so she could build them up enough to turn the facility to rubble.

(It is AroAce, Agender, and Intersex)

Harleen Quinzel always had trouble controlling her impulses. Coming from a very wealthy, very upper-crust family, any step out of line was harshly corrected by either of her parents. As a child she didn't know any better, but after years and years of repression coming from her family, she eventually clammed up and tried to fit into their perfect little mold. This included going to medical school, though she did at least get to pick something she was genuinely passionate about - psychology.

Harley was finally living on their own by the time they started working at Arkham, though they'd not yet broken out of that mental control their parents still had over them. Being in Arkham was like being on an alien planet. They had come from a world where everyone was fake, and Arkham seemed so...real. Talking with their patients opened their mind up even further. Even if what they did was violent, or utterly nonsensical to everyone else, insanity seemed like it was a sort of freedom that Harley never had.

This was compounded by it meeting the Joker. He saw that piece of it that wanted, desperately, to get free, and through their sessions he was able to get into it's head and...push it over the edge, so to speak.

(Harley and the Joker are not explicitly romantically involved in this, I should mention. They've got a weird queerplatonic thing going on. Also they're not toxic they're BFFs forever)

(They are Pansexual, Genderfluid, and have ADHD and Borderline Personality Disorder)

Selina Kyle grew up like an alley cat on the streets of Gotham. With two addict parents in the Narrows who cared very little about her, she was virtually homeless, with how little time she spent at home and how much she spent wandering the dangerous streets. It was in the Narrows that she met one of her closest childhood friends, Harvey Dent, and through him, the elusive Bruce Wayne.

The three of them were thick as thieves all through her childhood, though began to drift away when college time came around. Bruce had up and left the moment he turned 18 without any real warning to the two of them, and Harvey was off to college to try and become a lawyer. This left Selina all alone, once again.

But she had made a pact to herself. She didn't want to live on the streets of Gotham forever. She had started pickpocketing from a very young age, so she would just expand her skills - become Gotham's cat burglar. It started out as only a way to pay her bills, but she found she grew addicted to the feeling of it; the freedom of being able to slip into wherever she wanted and make some poor, rich fool a million dollars short. It was a sort of revenge for her (and the regular cash flow didn't hurt).

She was surprised when Bruce came back to Gotham and tried to reconnect with her. They hadn't talked in over a decade, but they found themselves reconnecting with surprising ease. Their close friendship would drive Harvey mad with jealousy, but neither of them realized that until it was too late.

The scar on her face is from Harvey's attempt on her life, after he became Two-Face.

(She is a Lesbian)

[harlowhockeystick]

rob pat batman w/ "you're always there for me, it's time i return the favor"!

soft blurb night | contains: mentions of violence, reader is sick

bruce had gotten so used to his night owl schedule, that when you were running a one hundred one fever and coughing your lungs out, it was easy to stay up and take care of you. plus, he needed a night off from chasing criminals and jumping off of twenty story buildings.

he sat up in bed beside you with one arm draped over you to hold you close. you had just fallen back asleep after waking up for the third time, needing to blow your nose. he put the cold and damp wash cloth on your forehead, hoping to ease your fever.

bruce's heart ached watching you sick like this. he know's it's just a cold and that with a couple days time you'll be back on your feet, but he still can't help but feel for you. he wants to take care of you, it's the least he could do. there's nothing more in this world than he wants than for you to be okay, to be safe, to be alive.

he finds himself overreacting a little bit, over thinking. it's just so out of his norm to see someone he loves not one hundred percent. it makes him want to do what he does even more, even harder. he knows it's just a cold, but his mind can't help but go into what would happen if it was something worse than just a cold.

bruce thinks about those situations a lot, when he's sitting in his batmobile at three in the morning in the cold gotham night. he thinks about those things any time he helps a woman who's screaming for someone to save her- what if that was you he was needing to save? he doesn't know how he would react in those situations if he was being truthful. part of him doesn't want to know.

he feels you stir next to him and soon he sees your eyes open in the dimly lit room. he lets you sit up, handing you a tissue and putting his hand on your back. neither of you speak, he just lets you take a few deep breaths and lean back against his body as he sits next to the headboard.

you hear sirens from the city beneath your mansion in gotham, from the windows of your bedroom you can see faded red and blue lights swirling around. "gotham needs you, batman." you whisper, looking out of the window and watching madness unfold in the city beneath you.

he shakes his head and kisses the top of your forehead, holding you closer and tighter against him. "you need me. gotham can do one night without batman."

you turn your head to look up at him, making eye contact with his icy blue eyes. "i need bruce, not batman." he grins, pulling the sheets further up your body. "but are you sure you don't wanna be out there like always? i know you're getting bored sitting here taking care of me," you say with a laugh. you know he needs a break, even if that break means handing you tissues and putting vicks vapor rub on your nose.

bruce shakes his head again, "we both know i'd prefer to be here every single night. you're always there for me, it's time i return the favor."

you take a few more deep breaths and rest against his chest. you listen to his heartbeat, it's calming and peaceful to hear. he turns on the television and you listen to that, the monotone voices putting you back to sleep.

bruce gazes out the window, watching the blue and red lights of gotham flash around. he wonders what he would be doing right now if you weren't sick, but being in bed with you trumps being out there with criminals trying to kill him.

[dearest-painter]

My little girl

summary:When your parents don’t care what you do,what you eat,what you say,what you wear,or how you look or throw you out in the cold with only slippers,a t shirt,and shorts you do anything to survive the world is Gotham especially little old Y/N. She is known to steal just so she can survive the streets of Gotham. Once you run away to New York and still have the same life you gain some attraction especially with hero’s,villain,anti hero’s,and vigilantes.

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior.abusive relationship,being force to grow up,Title from ‘Daddy issues by the neighborhood’,Y/N’s parents fully neglects Y/N to the point their basically homeless,SELF HARM,kidnapping,drugging,sedation,stalking,murder,death,villains being better parents then Y/N’s real parents,threatening,death threats,abuse

The coldness comfort you usually but now your running away from the only home you knew,Gotham city but you knew it was better to leave. Your parents never cared honestly and you knew it as they’ve thrown you out in the middle of the snow with barely any cloths,you had to steal proper clothes for you and the people who gave shelter to you. Sighing as you watched the places go by you saw all the heroes that didn’t do Jack shit for you when in need

It was always the villains that save you,Deadshot would always give you a ceral bar,the sirens would take you around town treating you like a daughter or sister,killer croc would let you sleep on his back while he went through the sewer,bloodsport would make you stay around him while he got you food and clothes. They were the best as they took care of you. Your parents didn’t care about your mental health or physical health but the villains did,they made sure you were always safe.

To you it felt like betraying your family yet you knew it was needed. “New yooork!” It was your area so you got up then walked out taking a look around. Everyone seemed confused at you but said nothing. You understood why because they were dressed for winter while you had a hoodie,shorts,worn out sneakers,fingerless gloves,a bandaged leg,many band aids on you,and a tank top plus your bag. It was like it was autumn to you. “Where do I go…” you thought everything out but you knew one thing,men were going to try and take advantage of you.

You took a deep breath then walked to a woman who looked friendly enough. “E-excuse me ma’am…do you have money you could spare so I can call someone on the pay phone. Sorry for the bother” the women looked at you,short red hair is the first thing you notice of her. “Of course,calling your parents?” You forced a smile. “Mhm! Lost my phone so I gotta tell them where I am” she nodded as she gave you money then you went to the pay phone.

Ring

Ring

Ring

Ring

Ring

Ring

Ring

Ring

Rin-

You hitched your breath. “Hello?” “Thor! You answered thank goodness! Your in New York yes?” “No I am not Y/N! I’m sorry!! Why do you ask?” “Damn it…I was gonna visit you but never mind! I gotta go!” You hung up then walked out plotting how to get by. Walking out the subway you just went with the flow.

New York was a bit safer then Gotham but something caught your eye. ‘Car for sale! Free!’ It’s as if something took pity for you. Running to the area where the car was you smiled wider then usual. “Ma’am! Can I have this car?” She puffed out air then look at you smiling motherly at you. “Of course sugar,I’m Charlotte harlot but may I ask. Where ya from honey?” “Gotham city ma’am” “oh dearie. Here the keys but do you know how to drive or have a job?” “Yes I can drive but no job” she looked at you sadly then took out a paper. “Here,my works hiring. Just say Charlotte gave you it” nodding you head she left and smiled. You got in then drove to a run down but safe parking lot.

You got in the passenger seat laying the chair plus your body down. Looking at the paper it was titled ‘villainously tastey’ it was definitely a restaurant but you sucked ay cooking and didn’t have any history with cooking extravagant food but only food for easy and quick food so being a waitress might be your job. Yawing it was time to sleep so locking the doors,getting protection the putting a sign up saying ‘I am fine! I am just resting as I’ve just moved here so I do not have a home yet!’ Then you brought out your blanket and pillow falling asleep in seconds.

[marauderundercover]

Refugee (Jasonette July)

There are those who say the world will end with a bang. Something big, perhaps an explosion. Something loud and undeniably bad. Something that happens and you know, right from the second it happens, that it's the end. That there is no coming back from it. Then, there are the others. Those who claim it will end in a whimper. The silent killer. An end that sneaks and creeps by until everyone and everything is gone. Marinette wasn't sure how to categorize the actual end of the world. In fact, it was impossible to know if it was actually the end of the world or just the United States of America since all communication had ceased shortly after the lights went out. It had never been her intention to die so far from everyone she loved. Her trip to Gotham, despite the fact that it was Gotham, was supposed to be relatively easy. Just a short trip to check out the University before going sight seeing in the neighboring cities. She'd gotten as far as the University when the first attack happened. 

---

Adjusting the strap of her bag, Marinette takes a moment to just appreciate the architecture of Gotham University. For a school stuck right in the middle of so much chaos and destruction, it truly was beautiful. She was sure that there was a metaphor or something just sitting there, waiting to be used. Just as she starts to head towards the admissions building, a siren blares throughout the city. Frowning, Marinette starts to pull out her guidebook to try and find the reason for the unfamiliar alarm. Instead of the guidebook, her hand brushes her phone, and she pulls it out instead. 

“Mon dieu.” She mutters under her breath. Every possible alarm on her phone was going off. Every news outlet that she had followed in preparation for her trip, as well as the news outlets back home were sending out breaking news alerts. And not a single one was good. Attacks were happening all over the United States. People that looked- well, dead. According to the reports, there were already several fatalities because of these people. Travel was being restricted, to try and pinpoint a cause. Before she can fall down the rabbit hole scrolling through all of the awful news, her mom’s face pops up on the caller ID. Taking in a calming breath, Marinette answers it. 

“Hey, maman.” She says. 

“Are you okay? Marinette, are you safe? They’re saying all sorts of things on the news-” Her mom rambles, but Marinette cuts her off. 

“I’m fine, I promise. Nothing is even happening in Gotham, I’m sure I’ll be back home soon.” She promises, not knowing that in just two short days, the power would be off. And any way home would be impossible.

---

Pushing her sweaty bangs out of her face, Marinette grimaces. It was hotter than she'd expected, though she supposed she shouldn't be surprised. The city was covered in black asphalt, and with the sun that had plagued the city since the attacks from the undead began, unbearable temperatures were just a given. The smells radiating through the city reminded her that July heat was as unkind to the dead as it was to the living. When things had started to get really bad a few months ago, there was a massive amount of people who fled the city. She wasn’t sure where they went, or where they were trying to go. The city, as dangerous as it could be with the walking dead roaming around, was still your best bet for food and bottled water. Even if it was technically stealing. Marinette had decided very early on that she would take refuge on the rooftops. It was easy to block the access if there was a door that led to her roof, and so far she hadn’t seen any undead with the ability to climb well. Or at all, really. The only thing she really couldn’t escape, not even on the rooftops, were the creeps. She’d already done her fair share of running from people trying to use this situation to abandon all morals. A thud yanks her from her thoughts, and she immediately grabs her metal pipe before whirling around. 

“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, I’m not a zombie!” The guy says, holding his hands up in surrender. Marinette’s eyes narrow at him. 

“Obviously. But that does not mean that I can trust you.” She retorts. He raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you French?” He asks. 

“Oui.” 

“Why are you-”

“I came for college stuff, and obviously that didn’t work out. Who are you? Why did you come to this roof?” She asks, not loosening her grip on the weapon. He shrugs. 

“I don’t know. Old habits? I just kinda try and check out this area to see if there’s anyone that needs- I grew up here in Crime Alley. It’s always been my home and seeing it like this is just…weird.” He says. Marinette nods, but quirks an eyebrow, hoping he’d get the hint. He grins crookedly. “Right. I’m Jason.” 

“Nice to meet you, Jason. I’m Marinette.” She says simply, giving him a small smile in return. Could it turn out to be a trap? Sure. But she hadn’t had a decent conversation with a person in over a month, and she didn’t get a bad vibe from Jason. In fact, for the first time since this whole mess began, she felt a bit of hope. 

******

Event tag list: @jasonette-july-event @maribat-calendar-events

[goddess-of-graphite]

was thinking about this again and... i mean it’s not really the prompt but it did remind me of the ghostspeak-from-afar thing

anyway have this thing that was sitting in my notes for ages

.

.

“Once the doorway has been opened, it cannot be so easily closed again.”

Clockwork’s warning rings in his ears, over and over again, even as he helps the rest of his fright pack their things into the Spectre Speeder.

It is a risk. Perhaps not one he should be taking, as King-to-be, but...

There is an ache, a hollow place where another of their little ghostly family used to be. Something had ripped one of their own from them, and ghosts are not beings who let go easily. Team Phantom will not give up hope of finding their lost member any easier.

So they gather what they cannot leave behind, unsure when they will be back (if they will ever be able to return) and sequester it all away in the Speeder, along with everything they’d need to build a portal or three to the Ghost Zone, their weapons, and enough ectoplasm to keep a city running for thirty years; they say their goodbyes without fanfare and promise to call if they can get the Fenton Fones working where they’re going.

And then they leave, disappearing through the portal in the Fentons’ basement.

Clockwork said that Jason had been forcibly returned to whence he came. That is their only clue, except for the stories he used to tell - about a dark city, and a man dressed as a bat, and rooftops guarded by gargoyles.

They will start with that.

.

Jason is angry, and mourning, and half-convinced his memories of the time in between dying and living are little more than strange fantasies.

The other half of him already knows there is no way back, even if the memories are real.

(His fright is gone and it hurts- )

He tells no one of the memories. He speaks nothing of ghosts, and infinite realms, and a half-dead boy and his friends and the things they did together. Instead he settles back into a life he had left behind, a skin that feels too big for him and yet far too small, a world that is familiar in the worst of ways.

He goes along with the woman who dragged his soul back into his walking corpse until she turns him loose on Gotham, and he rages and kills and taunts the Bat with all his failures because he has nothing else.

He wrestles with the corrupted energy of the Lazarus Pit and does things he regrets. He stands on a precipice, balanced precariously between what he thinks he can live (hah) with and what he knows he cannot. He decapitates drug lords. He avoids the new Robin. He kills those who harm the innocent. He doesn’t interfere when he sees the bats in trouble. He claims Crime Alley as his turf (his haunt, wails something inside of him) and becomes a crime lord. He can’t help himself from leaving clues for the bats, that the boy they buried might not be truly gone.

He fights the Bat, once. It is violent and bloody and when it’s over Jason is left seething with rage that both is and is not his own.

So the next time they cross paths, he fights the Bat again.

And again.

And-

(There is a sound like a bell, like ice shifting, like whale song, like static and the caw of crows and a million other little things; the silent ringing of the space between stars, cold and heat and light and colour. It is a roar and a whisper and a siren’s call, a voice so familiar to him that it soothes the jagged, broken pieces inside of him.

It rings across Gotham, not heard so much as felt down to your very bones; once, twice. He is still, no breath in his lungs, and though Batman is mere yards away with hands on a batarang and a grapple, Jason pays him no attention: his sight is riveted on the horizon, searching for a figure he knows like his own soul.

The third time, Jason answers in kind: a trilling that is too loud to have come from his physical throat. It sounds like glass splintering and the silence after an explosion and the click-click-click of picking a lock, like the clang of metal against metal and the strange sound that lingers in the air afterward, like wings beating and the lyrical call of a lone bird, like a fire burning dry grass.

It contains all the things that have gone unsaid for the past two and a half years he has been alone. Pain and loneliness and anger at things he cannot change. And relief. So much relief that his limbs are weak with it.

They’re here. They’re here they’re here they’re here

They came for him.)

[the-little-bat-who-can]

A Siren Song (1)

The world had spun out of control. Bruce stared into the monitor, his eyes heavy, body numb. Lex Luthor was president, Superman was dead- though Bruce hadn’t deduced if that was real yet- and Gotham was currently closed off from the rest of the world. Luthor, with plans to stop the rising severity of crimes, had locked most metas in Gotham, clearly intending to purge the city. Bruce hadn’t slept in ages and the weight of the world lay on his shoulders.

While superheroes still roamed outside Gotham, they remained undercover. Luthor didn’t care who they were, only that they weren’t human, therefore needed to be removed. He couldn’t do it alone anymore, and while members of the Justice League aided him in keeping Gotham functional, one missed night would destroy everything. Bruce was breaking at the seams.

“Master Bruce, I’ve noted a disturbance near the harbors on Miagani Island. It's repeated the last few hours despite the lack of ships.” Bruce hummed, dreading putting on the cowl.

“I can handle it.” Somehow, that made it worse. “I’m nearby anyways.” It wasn’t that Bruce mistrusted Jason’s ability to figure it all out, it was the method he employed.

“Very well, Master Jason. I will send you more information.” Bruce looked away from the computer sighing. He wasn’t going to do well to brood at the computer. May as well brood on patrol.

Jason scanned the waters, unable to see more than a few inches into the murky depths. He’d been trailing Black Masks recent activity in the area, large nets laying across the harbor's waters. He heard a blip and saw a red dot racing across a small monitor on his phone, before freezing. It was about a five minute run. So Jason took off towards where the blip disappeared.

When he arrived, it was quiet. The black waters glistened before him, soft waves lapping at the concrete shore. He crouched down, peering into the blackness before bubbles rose to the surface. He heard shuffling and quickly dove away, seeing Sionis’s goons walking to the area.

“Wish we knew what boss wanted these nets for.” Jason stared at them pulling the net up. Whatever made the bubbles were what Black Mask wanted.

“S’pose we’ll know in a sec.” Jason felt complete confusion as they pulled a writhing lump from the water, tangled in the net.

“Is that…?” And there was no mistaking. Pale skin, (h/c), and a long tail that glimmered in the night. “A mermaid?” They unwrapped the creature, grabbing it to hoist it over one man's shoulder. Suddenly- he began screaming.

The creature began tearing his flesh from the back of his neck, flopping to the ground with the man who lay unmoving. The goons shouted in surprise, pointing two pistols at it. “If you shoot it, I will kill you both.” The lowered their weapons as the creature hoisted itself up on arms, surveying its surroundings. “It’s not a mermaid like I thought,” Sionis hummed, and “more like a-“ a siren began blaring. He pistol whipped the creature and flung its unmoving body over his shoulder and began running. Jason took off after them.

His legs burned as he neared the car, the creature in the trunk, the car tearing away from the harbor. He grappled up to a nearby roof, following as it disappeared deeper into Miagani Island.

As the car pulled into a warehouse he once again waited. “I see you found the disturbance.” Jason jumped, his heart trying to escape through his throat. Batman stood behind him, looming over him.

“Yea, it’s a siren or somethin’,” Jason muttered, crossing his arms and turning back to the warehouse. Batman hummed behind him.

“Do we have an extraction plan, or do you not care about saving the creature?” Jason elected that silence was better than a punch. The creature hadn’t been his main prerogative past figuring out what it was. His goal was always Sionis.

“I think I have something that can work.”

[silverspaceace]

So I’ve been playing around with an idea for yet another DC and RWBY crossover. Hunter’s of Justice is still one of my favorite fics, and I’ve struggled with how to make this unique from it. Well, I finally figured it out.

Emerald.

My idea is that, in an alt version of Volume 8, Emerald is killed by Cinder for her betrayal and awakens in Gotham City with no memories. In an unfamiliar city in an unfamiliar world, she lapses into old habits to survive (thievery) which results in her running into the Batgirls (Steph and Cass) who she manages to evade via her semblance, which leads to an encounter with Batman. Batman would manage to take down Emerald thanks to Oracle telling him where she is via security feeds.

Upon hearing out Emerald (mostly at Steph’s insistence) Bruce decides to let her go, but on conditions. The first being no crime, and the other being that she must stay with some “associates”.

The associates in question would be the Gotham City Sirens (Catwoman, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy), a trio of (semi) reformed villains. Emerald would mainly shadow Catwoman, Harley would give her some much needed therapy, and I guess Ivy is just there.

The main driving force of the plot would be Amanda Waller. She learns quickly about Emerald and sees her as a potential asset for Task Force X. On the flip side, there’s the Secret Society, who are trying to recruit the Sirens and by extension Emerald.

I also have plans for other RWBY characters to appear, in the off chance anyone is interested. 

[punchdrunkdoc]

Just Breathe - Ch. 5

Summary: Six months after the events in Gotham Square Garden, Bruce is struggling to find balance between his role as Batman and his responsibilities as Bruce Wayne. His life is made even more complicated when he learns that someone knows his secret identity.

Notes: This is a multi-chapter, slow-burn Battinson/original female character story with romance, angst, and crime solving!

Also available on AO3

Masterlist

Reference pics and stuff

With one movement, Bruce caught George’s left arm in a steel grip, and fired his grappling gun with his free hand. The moment the anchor bit into the concrete building, the two of them jerked to a stop.

“Ahhh!” Bruce cried, as pain seared through his right shoulder. George’s added weight and the sudden deceleration had wrenched his shoulder from its socket. Gritting his teeth against the piercing agony, he lowered himself and the young boy to the street below.

He sliced through the zip-tie with one of the tactical knives embedded in his chest plate, and George used his freed hands to whip off his blindfold.

“Holy shit, you’re Batman!” he exclaimed, staring up at Bruce in awe.

Bruce grunted in reply as he looked over the kid.  His face was grimy with tears and he’d probably have a hell of a bruise from where Bruce had caught his arm…but he looked otherwise unharmed. “You okay, kid?” he checked.

He nodded, his face breaking out in a smile. “That was awesome! Wait till Sammy and the others here about this!”

“I though it was going to be our little secret?”

George’s face fell. “Oh, yeah.” His boyish enthusiasm melted away at the thought of what the Deacons would do to him if they found out.

Bruce saw his chance.  He crouched down so he was at eye-level and tried to convince the kid to rethink his choices. “George do you really wanna be part of a gang that would do this to someone? They left you up there, knowing there was a strong chance you could die. They don’t care about you.”

George looked down. “No one does,” he mumbled under his breath.

Bruce grappled with something to say in response, his heart aching for this poor, neglected boy. But just then, a police siren blared from the end of the street. The sound spooked George, who took off running.

Bruce watched him go, then disappeared back into the shadows of the alley as the patrol car passed him.

His shoulder throbbed.

Shit

His motorbike was stashed nearby, but there was no way he could ride it home with his arm hanging useless by his side. Alfred would have left for Capitol City already, so he couldn’t come get him…

And taking a taxi dressed as a 6-foot-tall bat would not be the sanest idea.

There was only one option he could think of.

Or, at least, only one option he wanted to think of.

———

Beth took a sip of wine and checked the time on her watch. It was well past midnight and she should probably go to bed…but her book was just getting good. She nestled deeper into the couch and turned the next page.

But she was abruptly drawn out of the world of regency-era England when she caught sight of the large shadow passing by her window.

Someone was on her fire escape.

She slowly put down her book and grabbed the decorative vase from the coffee table - the nearest heavy object. Gripping the glass weapon firmly, she quietly approached the window.

The shadow shifted…

…and the moonlight overhead illuminated a tell-tale set of ears.

It was Batman.

She set the vase down and opened the window.

“There was movement this time, so this definitely constitutes ‘sneaking’,” she called out.

He stepped fully into view. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing out there?” she asked, glancing around to see if any of her neighbours had noticed the tall vigilante pacing her fire escape.

“Debating whether I made the right decision.”

“And what decision was that?”

He sighed. “I came to ask for your help.”

She raised an eyebrow. What kind of help would Batman need from her at this time of night? Then she noticed the way his right arm was hanging motionless at his side...

She gestured to it. “Does it have anything to do with that?”

He nodded.

“No need to debate any further. Just come in.” She pushed the window up as high as it would go, and stepped aside.

He ducked down and stepped through the gap and into her apartment. If she’d thought he looked somewhat incongruous in the mortuary, it was nothing to seeing him in all his caped glory in the middle of her cosy, candle-lit living room.

His eyes flickered around the space. “I’m sorry for interrupting your night.”

She shrugged as she looked him over for any more injuries. “It’s just a night like any other.” She gestured to his arm again. “What happened?”

“Dislocated shoulder.”

She winced. “Ouch.”

“I’ve had worse. And I wouldn’t normally ask for help-“

“Shocker,” she teased.

He ignored her. “But there were…circumstances…beyond my control.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m happy to help.” She stepped closer and examined the thick metal pad covering his shoulder. “But I have to warn you, its been a while since my ER rotation. I can’t even remember the last time I treated a live patient.”

“I can,” he said softly.

She glanced up to see him staring at her intently.

“Two months ago. When you saved my life.”

She swallowed and held his gaze. The moment felt…charged. Intimate. Here he was, in her space, looking at her like she was the only other person in the world. The candlelight caught on the stubble covering his sharp jaw, and she wanted to rest her hand against it. Feel its texture against her skin.

But that would be bad in so, so many ways.

So she took a half step back and put her professional face on.

“That was just first aid. For this, I’m gonna need you to remove some of this armour.” She tapped the shoulder pad lightly.

He unsnapped the shoulder segment with his good hand, and she caught the heavy guard as it came away from the leather suit underneath. “I need to check for nerve damage. Do you have any loss of sensation in your hand? Any numbness or tingling?”

He removed the gauntlet and glove. His hand was wrapped in bandages, like a boxer. He flexed his fingers. “Feels fine.”

She cautiously grasped his hand in hers, careful to only touch the bandages, and examined the exposed skin of his fingers. The colour looked good, with no sign of vascular compromise. “Okay, lets do this. Take a seat.” She gestured to her couch.

His leather suit squeaked quietly as he settled on to her sofa. She sat next to him and carefully took hold of his elbow and wrist. “Try and relax as much as possible, and let me know if the pain gets to be too much.”

He grunted softly in response.

For the next few minutes, she gently manipulated the joint, until finally she felt it click into the correct position. Batman exhaled at the same moment - the only sign that he’d been in any discomfort.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“No problem,” she whispered back, staring into his pale blue eyes.

His wrist flexed slightly under her hand, and she realised that she was still holding on to him. With a start, she dropped his arm and stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

She quickly grabbed some pain pills from her bathroom and returned to the main room. To find him holding her abandoned book and examining the half-dressed male model on the front cover.

“I can feel the judgement radiating off you,” she called over her shoulder as she filled a glass with water.  

She brought over the meds and he swallowed them without complaint. “No judgement. Just curiosity. Its not what I expected you to be reading.”

She settled into the couch next to him, her back against the arm rest and her legs folded between them. “My job is kinda depressing,” she explained. “I deal with death and tragedy day in, day out. So in my off-hours, I try to avoid that. I watch comedies and read stories with guaranteed happy endings. I don’t care that its not exactly ‘high-brow’, I just want my serotonin fix. I think I would go crazy without it.”

He nodded, still studying the book in his hands.

“So, what’s yours?” She asked.

He looked at her. “Hmmm?”

“What’s your outlet? What makes you happy after a night dealing with the dregs of Gotham’s humanity?”

———

The answer came to Bruce in an instant.

You.

You make me happy.

Well, not exactly happy - he hadn’t truly felt that emotion since before his parents had died - but she made him feel more alive.

Less alone and disillusioned with the world.

It was the true reason he’d spent all those weeks perched on the building opposite hers, binoculars in hand; the reason he’d spent hours trying to find excuses to talk her; the reason he’d sought her help tonight.

Being in her presence brought him comfort. It was as if she’d become a sort of touchstone for humanity. A bright spark of colour and warmth to help him keep going when the battle for the City’s soul felt hopeless. After so many nights - more than two years of them - spent in the shadows and immersing himself in the filth of Gotham’s underworld, he was at risk of losing perspective. Of forgetting there was good amongst the evil.

She reminded him of that good. She was proof there was still kindness in this world.

But he couldn’t tell her any of that.

“Is there nothing?” She asked when he remained silent.

He shrugged.

She frowned at him. “That’s not healthy. You need something other than this,” she gestured at his suit. “Otherwise you’ll burn out or go insane.”

She sounded like Alfred - they’d had similar conversations in the past - but neither of them knew that he had something now. A tiny light in the darkness, guiding him away from potential despair.

He studied her, acutely aware of the contrasts between them.  She was curled up on the sofa, an oversized cardigan wrapped around her; her hair was up in a messy bun, and glasses were perched on her nose. She looked soft around the edges, her clothes and colouring complimenting the golden candlelit glow of the room.

He was made of sharp angles and blackness.

He should leave. She’d said it herself - she got enough darkness and misery in her day job. She craved happy endings.

And there wouldn’t be one with him.

The conflict he felt around her - the push and pull between wanting to be with her and wanting to protect himself by keeping his distance - would ultimately only end one way.

The pain of losing someone wasn’t worth it. He would never allow himself to get close to her. He would content himself with watching her from afar, or indulging in these brief interactions…but there would be nothing more.

So, he should leave.

“Have you had any luck with the potential serial killer case?” She asked, before he could make his excuses.

He shook his head and explained the trouble with tracking the drug.

“That sucks,” she said. She yawned and rested her head against the back of the couch. “I wonder why there was such a long gap between victims this time.”

“Maybe there wasn’t a gap. Maybe we missed one. Or even more than one.” He stared out the window as he let his thoughts flow. He’d been wondering about this exact thing. “But if we didn’t…there are only a couple of reasons why a serial killer would pause their activities. Either they move out of state, or they go to prison for something else. They can’t stop any other way. Its a compulsion for them.”

Beth was silent, so he glanced back at her.

She was asleep.

He smiled ruefully. Hopefully the late hour was to explain…rather than him boring her into unconsciousness. Either way, it was nice knowing that she felt comfortable enough around him to let her guard down.

Being careful not to wake her, he gathered his discarded armour and let himself out the window.

He took one last glance at her sleeping figure…then descended back into the night.  

———

“No.”

“It’s just one dinner.”

“I said, ‘No’, Alfred.”

“You said you would give my plan a go.”

“Yeah, when I thought I’d just be photographed at a party or heading into a nightclub. I didn’t think I’d have to go on a date with a complete stranger.”

“Lolade Musa is one of the most famous supermodels on the planet. She’s hardly a stranger.”

“She’s a stranger to me.”

“But not to the paparazzi. Or the gossip rags. Or the public. If you’re seen out with her, it’ll be a major sign that Bruce Wayne is well and truly leaving his reclusive past behind.”

“And a non-recluse dating a supermodel couldn’t possibly be Gotham’s mysterious masked vigilante.”

“That’s the idea.”

Bruce saw the merit in Alfred’s plan, but spending the evening on a fake date felt like a waste of his time right now. He had a plan for hunting down the serial killer and he wanted to run with it. It was actually his conversation with Beth the other night that had sparked the idea. Instead of trying to track the drug, he was going to track the killer - by assuming he’d either been in prison, or out of state for the past year.

Step 1 was checking national databases for similar crimes.

Step 2 was checking all prison inmates released in the last few months for backgrounds in pharmaceutical training or drug manufacturing.

It would be tedious and time consuming work. So he needed to get started now. “Alfred, I can’t go tonight. I need to start these searches-“

“I can do that, and I’ll fill you in when you get back.”

Bruce glared at his butler for a few long moments, but relented. His shoulder was still healing, so he couldn’t suit up tonight. And Alfred was right - he could manage the searches easily enough.

"If I go, I need you to do something else for me. There's a kid I want you to track down - name's George Ryan. 12 or 13 years old. Lives near the Deacon's patch."

"Do I get to know why?" Alfred asked, after jotting down the information.

"I just want to know what his story is. See if there's a way to help him.  Financially or something."

Alfred stared at him for a few moment, a look of cautious hope on his face. "So you're finally starting to see the good you can do out of that suit."

"I'm not in the mood for another lecture, Alfred," he said, wearily.

"Okay," he replied. "Back to tonight - the date has been arranged with Miss Musa’s publicist, and I’ve made reservations at Chez Vous for 8pm.”

Bruce sighed, resigned to putting in some work salvaging Bruce Wayne’s reputation. Which apparently involved having dinner with a beautiful woman.

“Who knows,” Alfred called out, as Bruce went to get changed, “Maybe you’ll even have fun!”

He didn’t.

Lolade was beautiful. As beautiful as she was ambitious. She was keen to boost her profile in America, so the date was as much a ruse for her as it was for him. She went through the motions for the cameras - smiling widely as he greeted her at the restaurant; touching his arm occasionally during dinner; kissing him on the cheek before getting into her car - but there was no attempt at real conversation.

And that suited him just fine. This charade was a means to an end. And he didn’t want those means to involve leading-on unsuspecting women.

As Bruce waited for his car, he stared back at the restaurant, at the ‘real’ couples seated by the window. The lit candles on the tables caught the laughter on their faces, the clasped hands, the loving smiles…

And he had a moment of wondering what it would be like. To not be consumed by this drive to make the city a better, safer place. To be able to pause every now and then and enjoy life.

To have the courage to open his heart to someone, and share a life with them.

A few months ago, such thoughts would have brought Selina to mind. But could he really have shared his life with her? She didn’t seem to understand why he did what he did as Batman. And based on her pointed remarks about privilege, she was unlikely to want much to do with Bruce Wayne.

It was different with Beth. He could imagine sitting at one of those tables with her. The conversation would be effortless. He would smile as she teased him, and she would blush when he told her how beautiful she looked…

“Here you go, Mr. Wayne.” The valet handed Bruce his car keys, interrupting his ‘What if?’ moment.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, climbing into the vintage Corvette. He merged onto the main road and accelerated quickly, desperate to get back to Wayne Tower.  

And away from the fantasy.

———

“I think I have something.”

“On our serial killer?”

Bruce handed Gordon the file and summarised the findings. “Yeah. Patrick James Newsome. 27 year old. He was a chemistry major but dropped out of college his sophomore year when his twin brother died. After that, he got a couple of blue collar jobs but had trouble staying employed - apparently he ‘doesn’t work well with others’. He got in some trouble trying to make ends meet and was incarcerated for robbery last year.  He was paroled three months ago.”

Gordon nodded as he skimmed the contents of the file. “Sounds promising.”

After more than a week of painstaking research, Bruce had come across Newsome in the list of newly-released inmates from the Gotham State Penitentiary. He had the science background, and the timing of his incarceration fit with the murders. He even had the right psychological profile.

He was definitely a promising suspect.

More than promising; Bruce was sure it was him.

He’d studied his photographs for hours and had even followed him home last night, wanting to see him in the flesh. There was a coldness in his eyes, and an intensity that radiated off him…it unnerved Bruce.

He was sure it was him.

He told Gordon as much.

“You may be right,” Gordon responded. “Like I said, I trust your instincts. But we need more to go on. We’ll start surveillance and try to get a warrant.”

Bruce nodded, frustrated at the slow pace of the investigation. He was itching to break into Newsome’s place and confirm his suspicions…but he knew things had to be done by-the-book from here on out. He didn’t want to risk Newsome getting off on a technicality down the line.

Luckily, the extra evidence came just a couple of days later, when the GCPD officer tailing Newsome caught him buying a supply of one of the drug’s ingredients.

It was enough to convince a judge to issue a warrant, and Bruce turned up to Newsome’s house just as the police descended to execute the search.

“You shouldn’t be here, man,” Gordon said apologetically when he caught sight of him. “The judge specifically said you weren’t to be involved. The DA’s office is getting antsy about you potentially compromising cases going to trial.”

“I’m just here to watch.”

Gordon sighed and shook his head. “Its bullshit anyway. You helped us take down The Riddler, and you practically served up Newsome on a platter. They should be thanking you.”

Bruce shrugged. He wasn’t after recognition. He just wanted to make sure Newsome was put behind bars.

Gordon left Bruce standing across the street, out of the glare of the streetlight, and marched towards the front door. Newsome’s house - technically his grandparent’s old house which they they left to him in their will - was a slightly run down semi-detached on a crowded cul-de-sac. The back yard melted into an overgrown wooded area which spanned the length of the street. The silhouettes of trees loomed behind the houses either side of Newsome’s, the green of their leaves washed to grey in the low evening light.

Gordon banged on the front door and announced himself. “This is GCPD. We have a warrant to search the premises. Open up.”

There was no response.

Just as the cops were preparing to break down the door, Bruce caught a flash of movement on the roof of the house. A figure was emerging from the skylight.

“He’s on the run!” Bruce yelled, but Newsome was already in motion - he jumped across the narrow gap between his house and his neighbour’s and landed on the roof. Bruce ran along the street, following him as he leapt from house to house. His peripheral vision caught Gordon and the other officers also in pursuit.

Suddenly, Newsome changed direction and jumped down behind the house at the tip of the cul-de-sac.

He vanished from sight.

Bruce cursed. He quickly swerved to run along the gap between that house and the next, and jumped the fence. He landed in a crouch in the back yard and watched as Newsome entered the woods. He gave chase, his cape snapping behind him.

Grabbing the flashlight from his belt, Bruce swung the powerful light side-to-side as he ran through the dense, dark thicket, hoping for a glimpse of Newsome. The crunching of feet over dry branches and the shouts from the pursuing officers drowned out Newsome’s steps, so he had to rely on sight.

There!

A glimpse of Newsome’s red checked shirt disappearing behind the large oak just ahead.

Bruce sped up, but just as he reached the oak, a gunshot rang out from that direction. He quickly ducked down and switched off the light.

Another shot fired. And two more.

Bruce heard a pained sound from behind him. One of the cops had been hit.

“You’re surrounded, Newsome!” An officer called out. “We have more cops on the highway beyond these woods. There’s no escape. So come out with your hands up.”

Bruce crept to the right, trying to come around Newsome’s flank while he was distracted by the cops. He edged closer, step-by-step, until Newsome came into sight. His back was pressed flat against a large tree trunk and he was resting his weight on one foot. He must have injured himself; that was why he’d stopped running and started shooting.

His gun was clenched in his hands, the barrel aimed at the sky, and he panted softly with exertion.

“Newsome!” The officer called again. He sounded closer now.  

Another sound was also getting closer - the whomping of a helicopter’s blades. Bruce looked up and saw the nearing aircraft, the massive search light attached beaming down and lighting up the woods ahead.

Newsome saw it too. And Bruce caught the moment he realised he was well and truly trapped. He squeezed his eyes closed and slowly tilted the barrel of the gun until it rested in his mouth.

He was going to shoot himself.

Bruce couldn’t let that happen - not when there were so many unanswered questions surrounding this case.

He quickly detached one of the knives from his chest and threw it at Newsome. The blade sank into his forearm, causing him to cry out and stumble away from the protection of the tree trunk. The sudden movement startled the cops. “Freeze!” several of them yelled, their guns up as they advanced on the killer.

“Don’t shoot!” Bruce called, but it was too late. Seeing his chance for death-by-cop, Newsome raised his weapon…and several guns fired in response. Bruce ran in front of the fire, his suit deflecting the bullets. “Stop firing!”

When the bullets stopped, he whirled to face Newsome, who was now sprawled on the ground, a red bloom spreading from the wound in his chest.

Newsome smiled up at him, blood staining his teeth from where it bubbled up from his chest. “Now you’ll never find her…” he whispered in a sing-sing voice.

Bruce stared in horror, as Newsome’s eyes closed and he went limp.

----

CHAPTER 6

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Taglist: @hollandorks @grunge-n-roses5 @xmxrfx @neptunesands @caramelcandescence  @blossomedfloweroflove​ @wanderdreamer​

If anyone else wants to be added, let me know!

[batsandbugs]

A Kiss With a Fist

AN: Hey everyone another fic coming at you! This is for the Maribat Drabble Exchange hosted by @eat0crow I’m so excited to be participating! My fic was for @pixiebuggiewrites​ who wanted a Daminette soulmate fic. Sorry I couldn’t squeeze anybody else in here it was already getting pretty long! I hope you all enjoy! You can also read it here on ao3! (Pictures are NOT mine)

Damian stormed away from the hotel, aggressively zipping his coat. He didn’t care where he was going, only that it was away from here.

He didn’t want to be in Paris. He didn’t want to watch out for incompetent amateurs. He didn’t want to ‘control your anger, Damian’. He wanted to be sent home.

The calm night taunted him, the Parisian streets were too bight and too clean, resembling nothing like his dark city. He missed patrolling, he missed his animals, hell, a part of him (a small, barely negligible part he would never admit to) even missed his siblings. But no, he was stuck here, under his father’s orders until the situation in Paris drew to a conclusion.

Considering it took five years for outside help to be even called in, he had no clue how long the mission would last. He still hadn’t met the so-called-heroes of Paris, but the research he conducted showed they were ill-trained, undisciplined, and relying on so much luck it was a fucking miracle their city wasn’t a smoking ruin by now.

He sighed, sticking his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He regretted not grabbing his gloves in his storm out. He’d been so irritated at his father that even though the man was on the other side of a screen, half-way across an ocean, Damian needed to physically leave to calm his anger. It left him little time to grab essentials for a chilly winter night like a hat, or gloves. He considered himself lucky for remembering to grab a coat at all.

He wandered for a solid hour, the cold sinking into his bones chilling the raging inferno that always seemed to bubble inside him. By the time he no longer wanted to scream at anyone, he was sufficiently lost, considering he hadn’t taken his phone with him either.

Coming to rest on a bridge he took a seat on a small bench. He puffed a warm breath of air into his chilly hands rubbing them together. Nighttime in Paris was so… different compared to Gotham. While big cities never truly slept, this was positively peaceful in comparison to what he was used to. He hadn’t even heard a single sound of ruckus or distress, which seemed strange considering the city was currently besieged by a magical butterfly terrorist.

Damian inwardly scoffed. Butterfly terrorist. True, being a Gothamite meant no room to judge, but he found it hard to think of a stranger string of words.

He sighed; Damian didn’t even know what his father wanted him to do here. Sure, he knew French and was a proficient fighter, but what could that even lend to the situation? They needed a detective, and, as much as he hated to admit it, Drake would have been the better option in that department. Unfortunately, he was off-world. Grayson was dealing with a problem in Hong Kong with Cass. Brown was paired with the rest of the Sirens taking care of Gotham along with Batman, and Todd…

Well, even he recognized what an awful choice Todd would be against a villain who literally used strong negative emotions as his weapon of choice. Damian had a temper; Todd was a ticking-time-bomb.

A high-pitched screech cut through the night air, before being noticeably muffled. Damian was on his feet and running before he even mentally acknowledged it. The thud of his boots on the cobblestone bridge sent small shocks through his legs. Another large clatter directed him off to a side street a couple of feet away. Three men had cornered a tiny slip of a woman, who held her purse like a weapon.

Damian saw red. “Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” he yelled in French. There was one benefit to being in a foreign city, Damian did not have to play the part of a clueless rich kid who couldn’t hold his own in a fight.

The brutes turned to him and grinned mean smiles. One guy stepped forward. “Come on man, we’re just having a little fun. You can join if you-” Damian cut off the disgusting words with a jab to the nose. Then he spun around, sweeping the second guy’s feet from underneath him, hitting him with a punch to the face to knock him out cold. The first guy hadn’t lost consciousness, but he was doubled over which allowed Damian to knee him in the stomach. Another punch to the face and he was out cold too.

He turned to finish off the last guy, only to see the woman roundhouse kicking him to the head. The burly man fell with a thud. The alley turned eerily silent, the only sounds coming from the sharp breaths of both Damian and the girl. His pulse fluttered fast; the heat of the battle warmed his chilled limbs.

A red purse laid on the ground near his feet. Picking it up he walked over to the small woman, no teen she looked about his age, who was still sharply breathing.

“Here, this is-” a blur is all he saw before a sharp pain spread across his nose.

Did she-

Did she just punch him in the face?

The shock of it sent him sprawling onto the ground, and he blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. Damian cradled his throbbing nose, anger bubbled once more under his skin before-

*Zing*  

The connection hit him like a train. A deep well of rightness spreading through him. He looked up through bleary eyes to find the woman staring at him in similar shock.

“You’re my soulmate,” they sputtered at each other.

Damian inwardly groaned. The League made initiates kill their soulmate should they ever find them to prove their loyalty. He grew up never wanting to find his soulmate, knowing they would serve as nothing but a distraction and weakness. Even when he joined his father, the idea seemed an unneeded liability. Sure, his brothers found their soulmates within the superhero community, but what were the chances he would too?

A small whimper escaped the mouth of the guy lying unconscious on the ground, knocked out by the woman the universe thought would be the perfect match for him. Damian tilted his head. She might not be a superhero, but maybe the universe knew him better than he first imagined.

“OhmygoshIamsosorry!” the flood of words spilled from his soulmate’s mouth, her face a deep shade of red. “I was just-”

“Acting on instinct and adrenaline? Appropriate, considering the threat you just faced,” he said without anger. “Your right hook is sufficiently adequate.”

“Um… thanks? Are you alright though?” She extended a hand to help him off the ground. He took it, his larger hand enveloped hers, but she showed a surprising amount of strength as she pulled him up. The contact sent another *zing* through his body, smaller and more subdued though. Damian found himself reluctant to let go.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” He suffered worse in training before. With the initial pain dissipated, all that was left was a dull throbbing that would be gone by morning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said with a bright smile. He took the chance to finally observe his soulmate. She was small, couldn’t be more than 5’2, which meant at 6’1 he towered over her. She was of mixed descent, with dark hair spilling over her shoulders, and bright blue eyes. Her arms and legs were toned with muscle, and she held herself with grace and confidence. She wore a face of tasteful makeup and was clothed in a short red dress and a pair of strappy heels with no jacket in sight. He had no clue how she wasn’t freezing to death.

Her smile dimmed a bit. “Actually, no, I’ve had better days. Today has kinda been a perfect disaster; first I’m late for school, then I forgot my homework, and my class bully decided it was a pick-on-Marinette day. There’s a three-hour Akuma fight, involving mind-control, which is always a total drag. I finally get home to find my parents worried sick about me because I hadn’t answered my phone which got destroyed at the beginning of the fight. I go to my class’s senior Valentine’s day dance hoping to finally confess to the guy I’ve had a crush on for years, only to get humiliated because he already has a girlfriend, and everyone else in my class knew and decided not to tell me. When I get away not to cause a scene, not only do I forget my jacket, but I also get attacked by three bumbling idiots with more mouths than brains.” She chuckled, hollow and verging on manic.

Damian stood there, unsure how to take all of that. He filed away the fact she was being bullied, and that she commonly dealt with Akuma attacks. Both equally important, as far as he was concerned.

“Now, here I am, standing in front of my gorgeous soulmate I punched in the face, after beating up said earlier idiots, rambling my mouth off because I don’t know the meaning of the word chill. Yep! I’ve certainly had better days. Ohmygoshimatotalmesskillmenow.” She muttered the last part into her hands, but Damian understood her all the same.

He would come back to the gorgeous thing later.

“…Do you want my jacket? You look cold.” It wasn’t the smoothest thing he could have said, nor the most appropriate considering the mess of a day she’d had. However, the manners Alfred drilled into his brain came knocking and if he was cold with a turtle-neck long-sleeved shirt and a jacket, she must be freezing in all that… nothingness. He averted his eyes from her exposed skin, looking at her face instead.

His soulmate looked at him for a long moment, before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“You know what, yeah, a jacket would be nice,” she said in a tired voice. Damian shed his coat quickly, not minding the sharp sting of cold that hit him. He helped his soulmate into the sleeves and took an odd little pleasure in seeing how tiny she looked in the folds of his jacket.  

“I’m Marinette, by the way, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She wrapped the jacket closer cuddling into the heat. “Sorry for kinda freaking out on you there.”

“The kind of day you’ve had has surely broken lesser mortals. Any coping method is your due. I’m Damian, Damian Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you Marinette.” He smiles, although the gesture feels odd, trying to appear non-threatening. While his soulmate (and maybe he was coming around to this faster than he thought possible) was obviously skilled at dealing with a variety of stressors, he didn’t want to add any more and risk her being akumatized.

“You as well Damian.” She shivered despite the added protection of his coat, as a gust of wind swept through the alleyway. “As much fun as this conversation has been, it might be best for us to get out of the cold.”

“Indeed. What will we do with these inconveniences?” he asked, poking one of the guys with the tip of his boot.

She sighed, picking her purse from the ground where he’d dropped it. “We’ll call the police to come pick them up. They’ll be cold, but fine.”

Damian scowled, “It’s better than they deserve.” He sneered at the guy who offered for Damian to join them. Join them in assaulting this tiny, bright girl, who’d been through enough. His soulmate. The bubbling rage began anew, and he wished he’d done more than just knock them unconscious, they deserved far worse for thinking, daring, to touch-

A small hand rested on his arm, dragging him out of his violent thoughts. “I’m fine Damian. Even if you hadn’t arrived, I would have been fine. I can hold my own in a fight. This is Paris after all.”

“Tt,” Damian scoffed. “Fine. We’ll leave them to their fates.” And if their fates happened to involve complete ruination of their online lives, credit scores, and secure information? Well, that was hardly his fault, now was it?

“There’s a good café opened late around the corner. Would you- would you like to go there?” Marinette asked.

Damian smiled at the tentative offer. “I would very much enjoy that, yes. I’ve been out for longer than I should, coffee would be great right about now.” She giggled and he felt his stomach flutter. Funny, giggling always annoyed him, but that bright clear sound... he could grow used to that.

Walking out of the dark alley, listening to Marinette talk to the police on her phone, Damian sighed. The streets no longer felt too clean, or the lights too bright. Yes, he was colder, and yes this was a complication, but for some reason, Damian could not bring himself to care.

Maybe Paris wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[squishneedsahero]

Ductape and Superglue

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 13 of 13

Word Count: 1607

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

Bruce got a call, one that he had never gotten before even if he had always dreaded it. A phone call during a Wayne Enterprises meeting from someone demanding money and sending a picture of you tied to a chair. You had that normal fire in your eyes in the picture and it was obvious you weren't hurt but still no one wants their wife held hostage and threatened with a gun or worse.

Tim looks over Bruce's shoulder at the photo on the phone screen. His heart leaps to his throat and he pulls out his phone, already working on figuring out where it is you are located from the little he can see in the picture. He and Bruce were here in a meeting it would only make sense to call the GCPD and not run out the door to get you to safety. Tim knows Bruce though, always thinking everything through except for when it came to you. He would do anything in the world to keep you happy and safe.

Tim's hand coming to rest on Bruce's upper arm pulls him back to the reality that is that he cannot run out the door to your rescue. "You call Alfred, I'll call the GCPD," that's all he says and that's all it takes to set things in motion.

Two phone calls are made and those lead to two more made by Alfred and Damian who he had just picked up from school. Alfred calls Jason and Damian calls Dick, they are the only ones who get notified in the moment to go get you but it's enough.

Cass is on a date with Steph, they're the next to get a phone call from Tim, just informing them of the situation but making it clear that they are not needed at the scene. Stephanie protests this and tries to claim that you'd need Spoiler's help as well. You were as much of a mother to her and Cass as any of the boys even if only Cass was officially adopted. In the end the two girls go to the Mansion to wait with Alfred and coordinate things from the cave with Babs who is there upon their arrival.

Damian liked to think he still disliked you and could barely tolerate you. But even if he wouldn't admit it he was more scared on your behalf than he had ever thought he'd be. Despite him being horribly rude to you, you had never been anything but nice even if your nice included sarcastic comments to prove your point. You had helped him learn what a family was supposed to be like.

Jason gets a call from Alfred and he is changed and out the door of his apartment before the call is over. You were his Ma and he was your Jaybear, and he wouldn't be letting you get hurt. Alfred was the one person you had given his phone number too even though he had told you to keep it a secret, but in this moment he was glad you had.

This leaves Dick, who had gotten a call from Damian, telling him the situation and that he would be joining him at the warehouse. Dick was with Babs at the mansion so the two head to the cave where Barbara takes over in the computer while Dick changes and hurries out the door to go get you.

Things seem like they're going smooth when the three boys arrive one shortly after the other. Jason is already in and picking off the men in the surrounding area and getting you out of the chair when Dick and Dami burst in and start taking out more guys. You're safe and that's all that matters to any of them.

But then there's that singular gunshot and all three of their hearts skip a beat. Damian sees you slide the rest of the way into the next room but the other two just see the door swing closed behind you. None of them know where you had been hit and if you were okay on the other side of that door. But they can't walk away from the fight in the middle of it. Once all the men are down Jason takes off too you, not giving Damian or Dick the chance and leaving them to tie the guys up.

"Mama?" Jason asks, slipping into old habits in his fear.

"Hey Jaybear, I'm fine, it's just my leg," you comfort him quickly but let him take care of your leg for you. You'll have to go to the hospital as it's the only proper thing to do but he stops the bleeding and gives you a tight hug.

The other two boys come in and you smile and comfort them, telling them all how proud of them you are. This gets interrupted by police sirens outside. You quickly shoo them away and let Bruce know you're safe, knowing your husband would want to come after you himself at this point but you were fine. You needed to let the police take you to the hospital and make all of this look somewhat normal and not like a family problem.

You spend a few hours at the hospital, getting stitches and a brace since the bullet had ripped through your muscles, leaving your leg weak. When they let you go they push you out in a wheelchair and give you a pair of crutches.

Media personnel try to crowd you and get answers for their many questions. You shut them up with one of your classic, "I'm fine now leave me alone to be with my family or you will start your own newspaper to post stories about them and slowly put them out of business." It was a good threat that worked every time. If it didn't work then you just added in the idea of getting photos of their butts to add to the articles, titling it "the asses of Gotham"

You choose to spend the early evening watching movies on the couch with your family. Cass and Steph take their own chair to cuddle in, same with Dick and Babs. This leaves you to cuddle with Bruce and Tim and surprisingly Damian sits next to you, kicking Tim out of his normal spot meaning you had no choice but to sit in Bruce's lap so the boys can both sit next to you.

Alfred wished you well upon your arrival home, then returned to make dinner for all of you even if you tried to tell him to just order pizza. "No, miss Wayne, you were shot today and need a healthy meal," he responds much to your annoyance with him calling you miss, as though you were a child and your parent had called you by both your first and middle name.

All of you aren't far into the movie when you get interrupted by Jason entering the family room. You light up at the sight of him and before Bruce can stop you you're out of his lap and over Jason wrapping him in a hug. How you made it that far without falling due to torn ligaments no one knew but you were now in Jason's arms and he could keep you steady. You make him lean over so you can kiss his forehead before you make him come sit on the couch where you had been.

When he tries to object you give him that stern mom look and he obediently comes and sits next to you, and Damian on the opposite end of the couch from Bruce. Things definitely were tense between the two but you don't care, it's a start.

You finally have your whole family back under one roof for the moment. Your four boys, one girl and two unofficial girls. You loved every single one of them so much and were so glad that you were all together again. They all knew how much you loved them, and how you took time for each of them, the only reason Jason was getting extra attention was because he had been gone for so long.

It had hurt so very much when he had suddenly been taken from you. The pain of loosing a child wasn't anything you plus bear even if you had had too for years. You all share a nice dinner together then because you had all spent so much time together Bruce insisted that the city would be fine for the night with just the kids and that he needed to stay and make sure you were taken care of.

For the first time in a long time things were relatively peaceful for your family, even if you had a leg wound. You had them all together and would now be able to work with Jason and Bruce on their relationship and getting it back to a less tense father son relationship. Damian was finally truly giving you a chance. Dick was on good terms with Bruce, and he was happy with Babs, even talking about marriage in the future. Tim was helping Bruce run the company and he was brilliant at it, plus he seemed truly happy for the first time in his life as he had recently started officially dating Conner. This just left Steph and Cass who were about to graduate high school and were looking at apartments, planning to move in together despite almost already doing so since Stephanie always seemed to be at the manor. It wasn't a typical life but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

The End... idk

[pigeonp0st]

Poison Ivy x Reader #1

Words: 1,112

Warnings: kidnapping, needle, blood

Notes:

Kinda hate that this will be my first time writing for Ivy when I don’t really like this at all. I made it during a writing stump...I hope you enjoy it anyways! Sorry for spelling mistakes.

——

Getting kidnapped by the Gotham City Sirens wasn’t really in your plans for the weekend...it wasn't in your plans for life in general really...but here you are.

Here you are; listening to Catwoman and Poison Ivy bicker back and forth, and watching the infamous Harley Quinn try to balance a pencil on her nose while growing increasingly more frustrated.

This whole situation is just humorous.

Made even more so at the fact that these three sirens have been coming to the bookshop where you work, undercover, for weeks now, and you hadn’t even recognized who they were.

You were growing quite fond of Pamela (or Poison Ivy you’ve come to realize) until this whole kidnapping thing.

You thought originally that the two of you had something...

“I can’t believe I got kidnapped by a bunch of Idiots,” you mutter, pulling at the vines that have you trapped against a chair. They only wrap themselves tighter.

Harley Quinn pokes her head up from behind a table (her pencil dropped and she was reaching for it), pouting exaggeratedly. “Um, rude!”

You grimace after realizing you were louder than you originally thought. Oops.

Ivy quirks an amused eyebrow at you, and then at Harley. “Don’t discredit her, Harls. She’s right about two of us.”

“Yes,” Selina agrees, scowling. “You two are idiots.”

Ivy and Selina glare at each other heatedly, and really you can’t even believe these three people are friends. They’re just so different...

“They do that a lot,” Harley informs you, grinning and spinning her chair over to you. You look down, avoiding her gaze. It’s pointless because Harley just ends up tilting your head up with her pencil. “We just need some of the blood you’ve got, ‘k’ sweet cheeks? Ives says it’s special.”

You’re aware of your valuable blood.

“...sweet cheeks?” You repeat hesitantly, grimacing again.

“She likes nicknames,” both Selina and Ivy say, seemingly done with their glare battle.

It’s going to be a long day...if you even survive the rest of it.

———

Later, when Selina and Harley leave (Harley for some snacks, and Selina for some ‘air’) Ivy moves over towards you with a very sharp needle.

“This shouldn’t hurt too much,” she assures, rolling her eyes at your disbelieving look. Ivy, unfortunately, grabs your arm with her gloved hand and prepares the needle anyways, despite your terrified wide eyes.

She flinches away from you though, and almost drops your arm altogether, when your hand almost touches her forearm. “Try not to touch me or else you’ll die,” she informs, grabbing your arm again with barely concealed annoyance.

You frown, tilting your head like a puppy. “You didn’t need to threaten me.”

“No, I mean you’ll literally die. My skin is poison to the touch.”

You blink at that, sputtering and trying to shift away as much as you can with the bounds on. “I saw Harley all over you before!” You protest.

Ivy nods impatiently. “Yes, I gave her immunity.”

You quiet down for a moment, stewing in the information she’s given you, until suddenly you say: “Okay, cool, give me immunity too.”

Ivy looks at you like you're crazy. “Um. No?”

“Why not?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at her. You almost take delight in her shock—the way she blinks at you and stops moving altogether.

“I’m not giving some random person immunity to my toxins,” Ivy says slowly, like the answer is obvious.

“Oh.”

Ivy continues staring at you.

“So you’d give it to your friend?” You ask, watching her hesitantly nod in response. She already knows where this is going. “Then let’s be friends.”

It’s that moment that Ivy sticks her needle into your vein, causing you to yelp and glare at her. “Some friend you are,” you mumble under your breath.

Ivy glances up from the blood dripping into her medical bag to meet your eyes, “i’m not your friend, dear.”

“Why can’t you be...because you’re a villain?”

Ivy visibly bristles at that, pulling the needle out of your arm roughly. “I’m not a villain for trying to save the planet. I am Mother Nature's chosen—”

“Guardian,” you finish for her, watching the blood drip down your forearm and unable to do anything about it with your arms still trapped. “I’ve heard it all before.”

Poison Ivy turns away from you to focus on her newly attained blood, rolling her eyes all the while.

You watch her work, mildy intrigued. “I think what you're doing is kinda cool,” you tell her quietly. “I mean there’s probably better ways to go about it...but you’re doing good. And you’re super smart.”

Ivy doesn’t respond, leaving you to grow uncomfortable in the quiet until you speak again; “so...can you really talk to plants?”

She glances over her shoulder at you, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s complicated communication,” she offers simply. Her eyes drift from your face to your bleeding arm after a moment. She immediately drops what she's doing when she sees the line of red running down your arm, sighing.

“You really didn’t have to pull out so hard,” you grumble, watching Ivy clean your small injury (she’s only using her gloved hand).

She sends you a look that’s both suspicious and amused and it only takes you a moment after that to hear the innuendo she sensed in your words, and when you do you have to turn away to hide the flush in your cheeks.

The chuckle she releases afterwards only embarrasses you more.

“I’m quick to defensiveness,” Ivy says, smoothing over the bandaid she seemingly got out of nowhere.

Your eyes light up at the smile she gives you. “So...can we become friends?” You ask again.

It must be too soon because Ivy visible closes herself off from you again. That’s why it surprises you when Ivy gives you a somewhat hesitant nod. “We’ll see how we get along.”

Your responding grin has her giving you the third eye roll of the day. You really hadn’t expected Ivy to actually want to be your friend. She just seems above it all...on a different level. In a different world. “Admit it; you like me,” you pester, feigning confidence.

Ivy flicks you right in the middle of your eyebrows in response. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Clover.”

“Clover?” You repeat, confused.

“Harls isn’t the only one who likes nicknames,” Ivy smirks.

And yeah...Ivy is kinda alright, poison and all, kidnapping and all, slight manipulation and all. “Wanna get untied?” Ivy asks, tilting her head, “or maybe not, i’m starting to think you like it,” she muses.

Very alright. Ivy is very alright.

“Untie me you snake.”

[ectonurites]

so i want to read red robin but uh. i'm missing a lot of context so do you know which comics i should read before starting it?

Okay. So. Red Robin 

Ideally, Red Robin comes after reading through Tim’s Robin run in general, as it’s basically a continuation of that comic. It’s not like you need to read every single comic he’s appeared in before or anything like that... but I just definitely wouldn’t recommend this being like... the first major Tim-focused story you read, if that makes sense? The way he acts in Red Robin hinges upon a lot of previous things having happened, as opposed to him acting like his more normal self. 

But lets go into some specific things that are important for understanding what’s going on in Red Robin assuming you’ve got some basic Tim info/understanding under your belt already:

Final Crisis - What happened to Bruce during Final Crisis is essentially the main driving force of the first bit of Red Robin, in general I’d recommend reading the whole event to understand it because just part of it without context would probably be really confusing (this is the reading list I used) but it can definitely be... overwhelming, it was a huge thing. The parts with Bruce are what’s most relevant: Batman #682-683, Final Crisis #6-7 and Superman/Batman #76

Robin (1993) - As I said above, in general Red Robin is the continuation of Tim’s Robin run. Events from the last major arc ‘Search for a Hero’ (Robin #177-183), which has the same writer as the second half of Red Robin, are especially relevant. In general though, reading through Tim’s Robin run helps you to... understand Tim more, and kinda see how the things he’s going through in Red Robin are a change for him, he’s acting a lot darker and edgier than normal because of all the things he’s been going through basically since War Games happened. (Steph’s death during that event was kinda the kickoff of his traumas in the 2000s, as it was followed by his Dad’s death in Identity Crisis, Kon’s in Infinite Crisis, and Bart’s in The Flash: Fastest Man Alive. While these don’t all specifically get referenced in Red Robin necessarily, and aside from his Dad they do all come back, these incidents along with Bruce’s apparent fate during Final Crisis are all things that have been weighing on him heavily and contribute to his mental state)

Battle for the Cowl - While this is kinda a hot mess of an event (particularly for Jason), it’s extremely important for context. Here’s a reading list, although personally I’ve just read the TPB for the event that I physically own that just has the main BftC comic & the two Gotham Gazette issues, which is what’s most relevant for Tim specifically.

That’s the like, most important context stuff going into it I think? There’s definitely a few other things potentially worth checking out like the rest of the Batman: Last Rites tie-ins (Batman #682-683 & Robin #183 that I already listed above are part of that, those are most relevant for reading Red Robin but for a general understanding of what else is happening in Gotham at the time consider checking out the rest), which all lead into Battle for the Cowl.

After Battle for the Cowl, the Batman: Reborn event is what establishes the new status quo in Gotham. (Red Robin #1-4 is considered part of this event. While you don’t need to read every other Batman: Reborn thing to understand what’s going on in Red Robin, certain little details and questions you may have about characters who are now in different positions than before are explained in the other titles so it’s worth looking into. But all of these were coming out around the same time as Red Robin so it’s not so much a ‘read before’ as a ‘read alongside if you’re interested’ ya know?) 

Then I know you didn’t ask for this but I’d like to add a few specific things I think are helpful to read during Red Robin, some the Red Robin comic itself will tell you about as they crossover but some it won’t!

Adventure Comics #3 - This one it’s kiiinda hard to tell exactly where it fits into Red Robin, some time during the first arc when Tim’s on his search still, my best guess is just sometime before Red Robin #4. This is essentially Tim & Kon’s first real reuniting since Kon came back to life during Final Crisis: Legion of 3 Worlds. This issue also references things with Tim that happened during the One Year Later part of Teen Titans (2003) in issues #34-37. It doesn’t necessarily do too much to the plot of Red Robin but I think it’s relevant reading, and it later gets referenced in Red Robin #9.

Blackest Night: Batman - This one... also kinda hard to figure out exactly where it fits in, I think right after Red Robin #5 makes the most sense since it’s definitely before #6 (because Tim references the event during that issue) but it has to be after he finds what he finds in #4, and #4 kinda goes directly into #5. This is a tie in for the Blackest Night event but as long as you get the basic premise of ‘Black Lantern rings make zombies’ then it can be read pretty independently. 

Batgirl - It’s very clear where this crossover happens in the comic, After Red Robin #9 read Batgirl #8, then the rest of the arc is continued in Red Robin #10 and on. 

Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne - So, this book builds on Tim’s findings earlier in Red Robin as well as what Dick and Damian discovered/pieced together in Batman and Robin (2009) Issues #7-12 in regards to what happened to Bruce during Final Crisis. I’d recommend reading the first two issues of this (Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne #1-2) before Red Robin #16. Then after that issue, read the rest (Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne #3-6). Alternatively you could just read all of it after #16, before the next thing I’m about to list, it doesn’t make a huge difference. It’s just that in Red Robin #16 Tim references that the events of this book had already started, but he hadn’t become involved yet, and he gets involved in #3. Regardless, read this before The Road Home: Red Robin.

The Road Home: Red Robin - This one is specifically mentioned to take place after Red Robin #16, but I’d really really recommend reading Return of Bruce Wayne first and then this. Afterwards go back into Red Robin #17.

Teen Titans - This crossover technically is first teased at the end of Teen Titans #91, but primarily starts in Red Robin #20 and then continues into Teen Titans #92.

Judgement on Gotham - This event starts in Batman #708, crosses over into Red Robin in Issue #22, Gotham City Sirens #22, and ends in Batman #709.

There are a few other things Tim shows up in around this time (The Gates of Gotham series is the first thing coming to mind, as well as after the crossover with them he rejoins the Teen Titans, but he also just shows up occasionally in the other bat books based in Gotham during this time) but they don’t really have any effect on the plot of Red Robin specifically.

I hope this makes sense and isn’t too confusing! In general like, this era between Final Crisis and the New 52 had so much going on in the Bat books that there’s like... lots of moving pieces to keep track of. Hopefully this can at least point ya in the right direction. 

[behindheremeraldeyes]

damirae week 2021

sunday, may 9th - soulmates & wedding/ honeymoon

title: you are my secret

summary: the universe wanted her to know his deepest secret, and even if it made things easier for her to find her soulmate, his secret came with heavier responsibilities than she could’ve expected. — Soulmates AU where they know each other’s secret. Ao3

.

There are some secrets that do not permit themselves to be told.

— Edgar Allan Poe

His secret revealed itself to her like a wave that crashes against the shore— all at once, all too much.

It came in a dark nightmare, chasing her like a horrific, shadowy figure. She had tried to run, scream for help, even, but no sound came from her sore throat. There was no place where she could hide, no one who could save her, and eventually, she was captured in that thing’s tight grasp. Though she didn’t know what was happening, fighting it proved itself worthless, as her small body refused to move a muscle. An ominous force enveloped her surroundings, and she could no longer see or hear anything.

Something lurked in those shadows— something bizarre and surreal— and chills ran down her body as her small world suddenly grew silent. Might have been seconds or days, she didn’t know, but eventually, screams erupted in her ears. Her eyes widened, then, tears running down her face as a wave of emotions swept her off her feet. Raven was having an epiphany. An unannounced realization of the truth in its rawest form, and instantly, the world was not the same.

And it would never be again, no. Not anymore.

She woke up with her lungs begging the world for air, sweat soaking the covers and a heart ready to burst out of her chest. Her eyes were frantically scanning the room, her pupils still fighting to adjust to the dim light that came with the first rays of sun. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, and before she knew it, her eyes were brimming with burning tears that ran down her cold cheeks. It was the most tragic, yet bewildering moment of her young life, and though she could not deny the fear taking over her senses, her mind had never been that clear before. She had never been more alive.

So this is how it feels, she wondered. Her fingers ran through her messy, dark locks that were falling forward; and it was as if she could feel her brain pulsating under her touch. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and thousands of new thoughts were trying to find a place to settle inside her head.

Raven was confused, yes. Disoriented, even. However, at that moment— at that unique and special moment where a whole new world seemed to reveal itself to her— she was sure of one particular thing that would change everything.

She knew his secret. Finally, the cosmic forces that rule the universe have revealed his best-kept secret to a 16-year-old girl. She knew that Damian Wayne is the man behind the green mask and yellow cape.

He is Robin.

He is her soulmate.

Initially, the idea itself seemed to have been taken from one of her old fantasy books; where the world is dystopian and reality follows no rule whatsoever. She had to be dreaming. Hallucinating, even, but the information was solidified in her core as one of her most visceral memories. No matter how much she has tried to— and she really did try— not even her sharp mind could deny that new discovery. She tried not to freak out, but it was hard not to overthink when her entire lifestyle was about to be jeopardized because of that one secret that was revealed to her.

Raven was but a normal, high-school girl. She had plans to go to college after graduating, and she wished for nothing more than a tranquil life after that. Though she was already familiar with the universe’s rule regarding pairing people who are, supposedly, very compatible, having a soulmate or not has never really entered the equation of her future, especially since she was decided not to let her life be dictated by it. From the very beginning, she refused to believe fate could ever control her with trivial things such as love and understanding, and at some point in her life, the raven-haired girl was ready to do anything to prove her point.

She was ready to defy the forces responsible for selecting two random individuals to be each other’s soulmates.

She was ready to go as far as she had to, but eventually, once her teenage-ish years got behind her, and her insubordination gave place to more reasonable thoughts; Raven decided she could settle for a person who could make her smile every now and then. A person who could share with her a simple life, and eventually, a simple love.

And with or without Robin, Damian Wayne himself could never give her simple.

For as long as she can remember, he has been in the cover of the magazines with his father, Bruce Wayne. He’s the heir of one of the most successful companies in the world and the favorite target of many paparazzi because of his cold and reserved personality. His life has always been exposed to the world— or, apparently, just some of it— and she has always believed them to be complete opposites.

Their worlds were galaxies apart. He didn’t fit any of her expectations, and she was sure she didn’t fit his either. And even if sharing a secret was supposed to bring them closer, his secret identity has only served to distance them even further.

Could two people so different like them ever find common ground? She didn’t know, however; the deed was done. They were walking around, living their own lives while carrying each other’s secrets, and one day— if things worked out as they are supposed to— they were bound to meet and stay together for the rest of their lives.

They didn’t know how, where or when, but it was going to happen. The universe was going to make sure of it. Damian Wayne and Raven were bound to fall in love, just like that. And until their special day could come, she was decided to keep on living her life as she had originally planned to.

Oh, how foolish of her.

The longer it took for their paths to cross, the clearer it became for her that a secret such as Robin’s real identity came with certain responsibilities she had never really prepared for. Just by knowing it, Raven was already included in a very selected and powerful group of people, who had no idea about her mere existence, let alone her true intentions. If anyone did as much as suspect that she knew about his identity, chances were her head would be on the line and Batman would be the first to pay her a visit at night. She could get into trouble—real trouble— and even without wanting to, she would eventually end up dragging her loved ones with her.

Her family and friends didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of her future love life. She didn’t, either, but that was never a matter up for discussion. Raven had to keep them safe at all costs, and that was why, once her high-school days were over, the girl didn’t think twice before leaving it all behind and moving to Gotham city on her own. It was a very hard decision, but it was the right one if she wanted to keep them safe. It had to be. Also, if she were to live in Gotham, she might get a chance to meet him and properly introduce herself as his soulmate.

Like that would be easy…

With her impeccable grades and remarkable school records, it was easy for her to get into Gotham College, where she began her English Major. It wasn’t her dream college— far from it— but it would have to do for the time being. She found herself an apartment, and for it was Gotham city, it was cheap enough for her to afford it on her own. It wasn’t located in a fine neighborhood or anywhere worthy of a Wayne, but according to the owner, no one had died in there, so perhaps, that was a win.

Once settled in, it didn’t take her long to get to know his city. Apart from its terrible fame, Raven eventually found some nice places spread around the city. There were good bakeries, small bookshops, and there was this one park that took her breath away. Whenever she had time, she would go there to think about life or just breathe a little.

Life in Gotham wasn’t as bad as she had originally expected it to be. After almost five years, her ears were almost used to the constant symphony of sirens, and not even the weirdos dressed as clowns robbing the bank at least once a month took her sleep away anymore. Her eyes shone a little brighter whenever she saw the dynamic duo on the cover of the newspapers, and she would be lying if she said that her heart didn’t grow worried whenever she saw a building on fire or something of the kind.

Perhaps that was their connection as soulmates making her think more about Damian. Or, perhaps, that was just a stupid reaction evoked by her own mind growing anxious. She couldn’t quite tell anymore.

After so many years without as much as an interaction, Raven was starting to grow weary. When she first thought about living in Gotham, she believed it would be just a matter of time until their paths crossed and she could tell him they were soulmates. She actually believed that meeting him would be easy, but eventually, the raven-haired girl realized that Damian Wayne was almost as unreachable as his father.

She has never seen him walking on the streets by himself. Whenever he’s out of his mansion, hordes of people surround him and setting an appointment at his father’s company is nearly impossible for a girl like her. According to his secretary, his agenda is already full until May 2034, and even then there will be no guarantee that Mr. Wayne will be able to meet her. He’s a very busy man, for sure.

Still, her name is on the list, just in case.

A defeated sigh escaped her lungs as she was making her way home from work one Friday night. It was winter, and Gotham is a particularly cold city. A black scarf was wrapped around her neck and her arms were hugging her body so she could get a little warmer. It had been one of those days, and she honestly just wanted to get home and drink a warm cup of tea.

Her heeled boots were clicking against the concrete sidewalk as she followed the masses of employees towards the subway station. All of those people, herself included, were on their way home after another long week of work, and as Gotham citizens, none of them wanted to take longer than necessary to reach their destination. Though not decreed by the mayor, the city was under constant curfew due to the elevated crime rates, and those who were smart enough didn’t dare put their luck to test.

The clock was about to strike 9:45pm and she was casually waiting for the train to arrive at the platform. Raven watched as at least 40 people surrounded her, most of them entertained by their cellphones, and she couldn’t help but close her amethyst eyes for a moment so she could take a deep breath. She was tired, cold, and her stomach was begging her to be fed. She really just wanted to get home and get this day over with.

Unfortunately, Two Face’s minions had other plans.

Once the train stopped and its automatic doors opened, at least 20 men, all armed, walked out, pointing their guns at everyone. People were startled, the tension in the atmosphere thick enough to be cut with a knife, and even if there was no hysteric reaction from anyone, it was as if she could hear the strangled screams wanting to call for help.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” One of them started, showing off the gun in his hands. “I know you’re all dying to get home, but you’re not going anywhere until we’re finished with you.”

In all of those years she has been living in Gotham, that was the first time she was this close to real danger. Her eyes widened immediately, her heart skipping a beat as adrenaline started to kick in. There was a man at least 2 meters away from her, and if his finger did as much as slip, her brief life could come to an abrupt end. She was looking around the sea of people, and all Raven could see were hands being lifted in the air, but no one really trying to alert the authorities or call for help.

She swallowed dry, then, her mind focusing on the small girl all alone who was trembling in fear. Someone had to help them. Someone had to call the cops so they could take care of those bandits.

And apparently, that’s someone would be her.

Once she made up her mind, her icy fingers slowly reached for her coat’s right pocket and tried to get her cellphone without being noticed. Her heart was beating faster in fear of being discovered, but she didn’t stop. With her thumb, she pressed the main button, and even without seeing the device, she slid her finger to across the screen, hoping to have gained access so she could make an emergency call. She motioned her fingers to dial 911, and when she thought everything was going according to plan, one of the bandits looked at her, their eyes connecting, and she knew she had been caught.

“What do you have back there, doll?”

A smirk took over his smug face and her blood ran cold at the sight. Her lips trembled when he lifted his gun to point at her, and at that moment, she knew she was going to die. Her life was about to end and all because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Great timing, Raven, she thought. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t really that bad.

When the man was about to pull the trigger, his gun was knocked over his hand by a flying projectile. He winced in pain, catching everyone by surprise, and before anyone could notice, more projectiles came flying towards the other men. Her eyes followed the sound of metal hitting the floor, and her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the batarangs lying motionless on the concrete. They were here, at last. Help had finally arrived.

Before a smoke screen suddenly exploded near them, Raven thought she had seen his pointy ears and dark cloak coming from the celling and punching the one who was probably the leader on the face. At that moment, the sea of people started to dissipate as they all ran for their lives, like a scared herd of buffalos. People bumped on her shoulders as they passed through her, yet, her feet still refused to move from the spot as her eyes captured a glimpse of his yellow cape jumping in front of her.

Damian, she thought, her heart skipping a beat.

Perhaps it was the thrill of finally seeing him so close, but she just couldn’t bring herself to find an escape route. Raven knew she should be running towards a safer place, but something inside her spoke louder than reason itself. She couldn’t convince her feet to move away no matter how much she tried to, and soon, she realized why. Coming from behind the train, a new bandit showed up, pulling a smaller gun from behind his back. He was quick to aim it at the Boy Wonder, but what followed made her feel as if the entire world was suddenly trapped in a slow-motion picture.

Her eyes saw the man aiming that gun towards him while he was still engaged in another fight. An unexplainable fear took over her senses, and before she could even think things through, her body was already moving on its on. The raven-haired girl was running towards his yellow figure as fast as she could, her arms extending as she got closer. A loud shot was heard by the time she shoved him away from the approaching bullet, and as her eyes closed in pure reflex, Raven felt an arm snake around her waist, right before her feet lost contact with the ground.

She was flying. Her eyes remained closed, but during that fraction of a second, she knew she was flying.

Did she take that shot?

Was she dead?

Who was going to feed her cat?

And what about Damian? Was he okay?

Raven didn’t know. Her head was filled with all of those unanswered questions by the time she had landed, but her eyes were still closed in pure fear. Her hands were covering her face, and she could feel tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

If she wasn’t dead yet, she was definitely going to pass out real soon. Her head was spinning, her knees were about to give in and she just couldn’t find anything around her to keep her consciousness from slipping away. She was about to collapse. She was going to—

“Hey, what the hell did you do that for? Are you insane?!”

A harsh voice invaded her ears, and suddenly, she felt two hands on her shoulders. Her eyes shot open in reflex, and much to her surprise, the first thing she saw was that green mask of his. Their faces were standing so close that she could see the expression lines deforming his tanned skin as he was probably glaring at her. A scowl decorated his thin lips, and only then she realized how tall he actually is as his body towered over hers.

It was him. It was Damian, right in front of her. At last, fate had brought them together, and apparently, he was mad at her.

“Why did you push me like that? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” He continued, her lips parting in awe. “Are you even listening to me!?”

“I-I…” She mumbled, her head still mixing all the words. “You were going to get shot. I thought— “

“I saw that guy back there. I was not going to get shot.” He released her shoulders, and she felt sparks running down her skin at the lack of contact. “Seriously, civilians these days. They think they can be heroes.”

“Hey, I was trying to help, okay!?” She answered, growing slightly irritated at his arrogance.

“Help? How? By getting killed? Thanks, I don’t need your help.”

“God, you’re such a jerk! Next time I’ll let you take that stupid shot!”

“I was not going to get shot!” He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “TT, whatever. I need to go back and help Batman. Get out of here and try not to get into any more trouble by saving strangers, okay?”

“I— What—?”

Her lips stumbled upon the words as she watched him turn around so he could return to the battlefield. All the anger that was taking over her disappeared and was replaced by a longing feeling she had never felt before. The cape that adorned his back swung as he walked away, her emotions growing anxious at the scene.

He was leaving. Damian was going back to his impenetrable world, and he didn’t even know her name. After almost 5 years, that was their first interaction, and however troubled it had been, it was still the only thing they had. Raven couldn’t let that chance slip away from her fingers, no. Not after everything she went through to meet him.

She bit her lower lip, then, but eventually, her eyes were filled with a confidence she didn’t know she possessed. She filled her lungs with fresh air and took a step towards him. “Robin, stop! I need to tell you something.”

“Not gonna happen.” He stated, not bothering to turn to face her. “I have a job to do and—”

“Damian, wait!”

His name rolled out of her tongue and she watched as his shoulder tensed. The world around them went mute, her chest tightening in response. His feet came to a stop, and slowly, he turned to face her once more. Raven could feel his eyes glaring at her with enough intensity to tear a hole in her skull, but she was decided not to back off. “What did you just say?”

“I-I… I know who you are.”

“You’re delusional.” He said, trying to deny her words. “You must have mistaken me for—“

“Damian, I know it’s you.” She spoke, confidently. “I know your secret. I’ve known it for almost 5 years now.”

His hands turned into fists, and in a blink of an eye, he walked back towards her. A mix of anger and bewilderment exhaled from him, and she could hear his heavy breaths moving his chest. His hands were once more on her shoulders, his grip tighter than last time in order to prevent her from escaping. “Who are you? Who told you about my identity?”

“You can call me Raven…” She started, her amethyst eyes on him. Though she knew he could end her life if he wanted to, she was not afraid. No of him. “And over five years ago, I’ve received your secret in a dream. I believe you also know a secret of mine.”

His grip on her loosened a bit, as if he was taken aback by her words. If anything, Damian is a very intelligent man, and at that moment, he certainly knew the meaning behind her words. He knew she was his soulmate. However, she didn’t know what he would do about that.

“Shit.” He mumbled, quickly taking his hands off her. She saw his eyes squinting as he observed her, his hands turning back into fists. “This shouldn’t be happening right now.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to follow you here or anything, but—“

“You have to go, Raven.”

“What?”

“Get out of here. Now!” He commanded, his voice not leaving any space for discussion.

“But Damian, I—“

“Don’t call me that!” He scolded her. “Get out of here and go home. I need to get back there and help Batman.”

“And what about us!? I can’t leave and wait for another miracle to bring us together. I know you have things to do, but we need to do something about this! Don’t push me away!”

“I’m not pushing you away, Raven! I—“

“Yes, you are! I’m not going anywhere! Not until—“

“Will you just shut up?!” Suddenly, she felt his hands pulling her closer by her coat, and in a rough move, he sealed her cold lips with his warm ones. Her heart was racing inside her chest, her mind spiraling as she tried to understand what on earth was going on.

Damian was kissing her. That or he just wanted her to stop talking, really. Still, their lips were touching and as something inside her lit up, it was as if all of that anxiety gave in. Her breath was caught up in her throat, and all the words she had planned on using to prove her point were now completely forgotten.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you?!” He pulled away, his hands still clutching her coat. His cheeks were tinged in a light shade of red, as he continued to scold her. She could feel his grip loosening, and slowly, he bit his lower lip. “Just find somewhere safe, Raven… I’ll find you again, I promise.”

His voice came out as a tender whisper, knocking down whatever was left of her previous bravery. Her entire body was growing warmer, now, and even if she had been afraid of letting him go, Raven knew she should follow his words and seek shelter somewhere. He was going to find her once everything was over, he told her, and oddly enough, she knew she could trust him.

A weak nod was all she could give him at that moment, but it proved itself enough for him. He nodded back, and after holding onto her stare for a second longer, Robin turned away and ran back to where the fight was happening. She watched him as he disappeared in the distance, and though she didn’t want to see him go, her warm heart didn’t break.

He was coming back for her; she knew it. He would find her again.

And until then, Raven was going to wait for him.

Once she recovered from all the things that had happened, the raven-haired girl looked away and started to run towards the exit of the subway station. She didn’t look back nor did she doubt his words, instead; she ran away, looking for a place to hide.

———————

Waiting for him, she discovered, was a lot easier now that they had something palpable connecting them. The days went by faster. Soon, winter melted into spring, and for the first time in her life, the flowers seemed more colorful than before. The weather was warm, birds were chirping, and Gotham city seemed to welcome the sun into its dark streets.

Her world had changed after that day. It was only natural, she knew, now that she had finally met the person she was destined to be with for the rest of her life. It was weird and unsettling, at first, but she came to terms with it after she had time to sleep on it and demystify a thing or two about finally meeting her soulmate.

The first and most important thing: she was not in love with him. At least, not yet. Meeting her soulmate for the first time didn’t make her fall in love with him at first sight like some people like to say. It didn’t change her life as much as she had expected it to, and if she were to be honest, Raven was quite happy about it.

She wanted to understand why they were so compatible before giving in to fate. She wanted to understand him without anything clouding her thoughts, and she wanted him to do the same about her.

Above all, Raven wanted them to have a choice. And if they ended up choosing each other, well, then they would think about what that meant later.

For now, as she rested her elbows against the metal rail that offered her a clean view of the lake, she was just focusing on enjoying her Sunday off. There was a book inside her bag, and she was decided to read a couple of chapters before heading home and getting ready for another week of work.

Just another ordinary day, or so she thought, until he arrived.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw as the young man walked towards her, his hands hidden inside the pockets of his hood. His hair was darker than hers, skin tanner and eyes colored in an emerald green. He stood still, some good 11 inches separating them, and though his face was hidden, she knew it was him.

At last, he had found her.

“You know, you’re not the easiest person to track, Roth.” He started, his voice calm as the wind brushed his cheeks. He was looking at the lake in front of them, and unlike last time, he seemed to be at peace. “Certainly took me longer than I expected.”

“Well, I guess that’s a good thing about being a nobody, right? There are a lot of people like me out there.”

“Maybe.” He sighed, his head now turning to face her as she did the same. “Still, I’m a pretty good detective.”

“With a very good self-esteem, too.” She offered him a small smile, to which he simple smirked.

A moment of silence took over them, as both of the young adults allowed that pure moment to sink in. There was no rush or anxiety lacing their feelings at that moment, much to their contentment, for they could absorb every minor detail of what would be the beginning of the rest of their lives.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about my secret identity?” He asked, honestly, and her brows furrowed in awe.

In all of those years that she has held onto his secret, never once has Raven considered the idea of telling anyone about it. It was illogical. Irresponsible, even. Had she spoken to the world about who’s the man behind the green mask, his life would’ve been ruined in levels she could never imagine. It could get him killed. And if anything, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

“It was never mine to tell. I could never reveal your secret, Damian.” She spoke, simply, and a smile threatened to tug at his lips.

“Fair enough.” He nodded, letting out a long sigh. “If it helps, I didn’t tell anyone about your secret, either. Though I doubt anyone would be interested to know there was a girl out there who’s afraid of popping balloons.”

A sincere chuckle escaped the depths of her core, and that alone brought a smile to his face. Of all the secrets she holds, that one childish thing was the one chosen to be revealed to him. The forces of the universe certainly weren’t kind to him, even if that was probably not a common fear out there. Still, there were definitely more people who were afraid of popping balloons than fighting crime as Batman’s iconic sidekick. His secret made him unique.

His secret has brought them together.

“I guess not even your detective skills could help you on that, right?”

“It would’ve taken me a lot of time if I were to use just that information, but I’m sure I would’ve found you.”

“Oh, and how can you be so sure?”

“I just know it. We were bound to meet, anyway, so there’s no point in debating how.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She agreed, not wanting to press on useless matters. They were together now, and that was all she cared about.

“Also, after that day, even in the middle of that crowd, I saw you first. I didn’t really understand why at first, but I guess it has something to do with this thing.”

“Probably. I know little myself, to be honest. Thought that when I found you, things would make a little more sense.”

“And how’s that going so far?”

“Honestly?” She asked, tilting her head to the right, her short hair brushing her cheeks. “I still have no freaking clue of what to do next.”

“That makes two of us, then.” He sighed, leaning forward and resting his arms over the metal rail. His hood was still covering his head, and even if she knew better, Damian looked like a normal guy at that moment. He didn’t look like the son of Bruce Wayne, let alone Batman’s partner.

At that moment, he was just a normal guy talking to a normal girl about normal things. And for a reason she couldn’t quite understand, that brought her peace. Perhaps they weren’t so different, after all.

Perhaps they could even make it work.

A tender smile took over her lips, and slowly, she took a step closer to him. Raven extended her hand towards him, and her eyes watched as he quirked an eyebrow in confusion. “Why don’t we start from the beginning, then? I know you’ve skipped a few steps when you kissed me the other night, but… Whatever. I’m Rachel, but you can call me Raven.”

His eyes watched her for a moment too long, and it was as if she could see the wheels turning inside his head. Eventually, though, a sly smile took over his lips, and he reached out for her hand. His hand was calloused, but his touch was warm; and together, they shook hands. “Damian. Nice to meet you, Raven.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Damian.”

There was really no telling what would happen, or even if anything would happen at all. Still, at that moment, both of them were ready to try it. They already knew each other’s secrets so, perhaps, they could try to learn another thing or two.

fin.

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a/n: I had this idea while browsing Pinterest for some Soulmate AU ideas and I LOVED writing it! Honestly, this is my very first soulmate AU ever and I really enjoyed playing with this weird scenario. It’s by far the one theme I loved the most to write, and I hope you’ve enjoyed it! Please, tell me what you think!

[pandoraimperatrix]

Can you lily for BatCat?!? PS you’re just so talented at writing!

This is a sequel of Time Unreal that @comicskbanime2 requested in march.

It falls after the 4x15 of Gotham,so Baby!Batcat what feels weird to say when this is smut lmao.

Lily - “Staying quiet was never your strong suit, wasn’t it?” “Well, you could do something about it.”

Enjoy!

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Growing up on the streets Selina learnt by pain and hurt that the only thing that really matters is power. And the main two things that could give you some was violence or money. She didn’t enjoy violence very much. She was no lily livered coward, but she did not take pleasure on inflicting physical pain to others. And the way she avoided to be on the receiving end was being small, fast and smart, but those three things could fail her, and had many times. Money, however, she liked very much, but she didn’t have any, that’s why she took it from people that had too much.

Dealing with Bruce was different, the rules did not apply at all. For once, despite still having nothing of the things that should give her power over him, there was no doubts of whom from the both of them had the reins of their particular dynamic. And it was not the boy billionaire.

But Selina miscalculated. She made a mistake she never really expected she could ever make. Because it was so unlike her, it never occurred to her that she needed to look out for that particular kind of danger. She got comfortable, domesticated. And, by doing so, Selina led herself to believe that the things between them would never change.

Back then, she, sometimes, when lying on his couch, watching through half-lidded eyes his never-ending reading, pretending to be asleep, she wondered why. Why he didn’t mind her presence? God, why he even seemed to enjoy it? Worse, why was he so despaired for her good opinion? Why he even cared about her at all? And how could have her let herself forget that those questions didn’t have an answer? And if she didn’t know why or how she managed it in the first time, how could she keep her power over him?

Did she even had any, like, ever? Wasn’t their whole relationship just one of his experiments and when he tired of consorting with the poor, he’d forget her? But wasn’t exactly that what happened, wasn’t it? Granted, in the heat of her rage, when for the first time since they met, he rejected her, it hurt so much and so deeply that she told herself that’s what happened. That their whole relationship was a lie, that Bruce was just another selfish rich bastard who used her for amusement and now was done with her.

Of course, that was stupid and not true at all. Even if she couldn’t understand why Bruce liked her, she knew him well enough to know he was none of that. And that had been why, even after believing their story was over, her heart broke when she saw him playing that part, forcing himself to be something so far from his true self, something that he, himself, despised. And when he told her what was really going through his head the last time they fought at the hospital, the surprise, the relief, the need was so great that she couldn’t do it anymore. Selina realized that Bruce hadn’t been the only one pretending to be something he was not, and she kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, and when they had their first time, in the wrong place, wrong time and even more wrong circumstances, finally, she felt something was right in the world.

He put away the jewellery, and she waited as he came back, feeling awkward. Such unfamiliar feeling. She, who had wore shamelessness on her head like a crown all her life, felt embarrassed by being under Bruce Wayne’s gaze now. He didn’t come back to the Sirens after their last encounter. Then the whole affair with Ivy happened and when she heard he was one of her former friend’s victims, the whole affair was done with, and he was okay. Good. Yet… Some part of hers, the one that was still insisting on making the same mistake that costed her so dearly before, expected him to make the next move. And when he didn’t, when not even the dirt bag Brucie that haunted her bar failed to show, she was disappointed. Of course, her pride would never let her admit that to him. But even her pride had its limits, and after how Ivy tricked her into participating in the murder of Roland Charles, Selina felt the need of a friend. Someone who understood. Someone to whom other people’s lives mattered. She needed him.

He looked surprised to see her still there in his messed up kitchen when he came back, but other than a small smile and a special glint in his gaze, he didn’t comment on her lingering presence.

“Are you still hungry?” he asked.

“You have no food,” she answered, trying to shake the weird shyness she was feeling off. She was sitting on the counter now, her legs swinging. His eyes darkened, maybe he was remembering the last time he held her against a bar counter, maybe it was a trick of the light.

“I could make some.”

“I could eat.”

He took the apron from the hook and tried to tie around his waist, but his hand – now puffy and purple – hurt and he winced in pain.

Selina jumped off the counter and took the apron from his hands, helping him to tie it on his back.

“Are you really alright?” she whispered, taking forever to make the knot, she wanted to lean her forehead against his back, when had it become so broad? He used to be such a frail thing.

“Yes…” he sighed, knowing she didn’t mean his hand. “As much as I can be.”

“I don’t understand it,” her hands fell limp around her body.

“What?” he turned to look at her, but Selina was facing down, biting her lip to stop it from trembling.

“Why don’t you just take off to your castle in Italy and never come back to this stupid city?”

“Chalet in Switzerland, Selina,” he said in a mock-annoyed tone. “I’ve told you a hundred and fifty-seven times already!”

That got her to raise her eyes to him.

“Knowing you, I might believe you counted for real.”

Bruce took his good hand to her face, Selina’s eyes fluttered closed; his thumb caressed her cheekbone lovingly.

“Still… You really can’t think about a reason?” his voice was barely a whisper.

“Hm?” she made, leaning into him, one hand on his hip, the other on his chest, she wished he would shup up and kiss her already, she didn’t want to hear it, because she might believe him.

“Can’t you?” he urged her again, but now his hand had slid into her hair, and his lips were against her ear.

Selina shivered, but pushed him away gently.

“Look, Bruce…”

“No, no,” he pleaded, his voice betraying his despair, “don’t do that,” he reached for her hand, “not now, please.”

“What do you even want from me?” she asked, frustrated. “I just don’t get you. You’d think that fucking you would give me some clue, but somehow I know even less of what goes on in that huge head of yours, and I’m tired of trying to figure it out. Thank you for the help with the jewellery, I’m… I’m taking off now.”

She tried to pull her hand from his grasp, but Bruce used the leverage he had to pull her awkwardly closer, making their bodies smash into each other.

“I’m sorry!” he said letting go of her hand, but doing nothing to create space between them. “But just-“ he sucked air in. “Stay, please. I don’t get me either, most of the time, but after Ivy did to me I think I might be getting somewhere… I feel like myself again. But one thing never changed. Not even when I was so completely lost… What I want from you… Oh Selina, how can you possibly not know?”

She just stood there, staring at him, and for the longest moment, it seemed that nothing else would happen. Because she couldn’t move, her thoughts were running so fast that if she did, something could break. And she was taken back to the last time he showed himself so vulnerable to her, and what the lack of reserves blew out the walls she had painstakingly built around herself. It was dangerous, Selina knew, and her brain was trying the impossible by pushing the acquired notion of Bruce growing out from his attachment to her to the reality of the young man standing there, who was so obviously in love with her.

“I want you,” he said finally.

Selina rose to the tip of her toes, crashing her face against his so hard her nose stung. Her hands went straight to his hair, her body arching to get more of his warmth, as he wrapped his arms around her and licked the seam of her lips. Selina gasped letting him in, she moaned when she felt his tongue slide to the roof of her mouth, remembering how it felt against her clit last time.

“Bruce…” she breathed when he started spreading kisses way from her lips. Selina pushed him away another time, but now her objective was to peel that stupid turtleneck off, she needed to feel him.

He grunted when, of course, the offending garment trapped his maimed hand as they hastily worked it off.

“Your hand!” she cried, alarmed.

“It’s fine,” he roared back, trying to catch her lips again, but Selina, ducked, taking the harmed hand delicately between hers, examining the damage.

“You should put ice on it.”

He used his free hand to pull her chin up.

“I have something better to do now.”

She snorted.

“You are so corny.”

She saw his smirk get closer and closer, until their lips were together again. He was being weirdly sweet as he kissed her, going slowly, kissing her skin as he peeled her jacket off, as if he was apologising.

It was too late for apologies, as Selina didn’t want any anymore.

She pushed him against the counter and unzipped her hoodie, discarding the shimmering fabric on the floor. He reached for her, but Selina stepped back, staring directly into his eyes, almost daringly, she pulled her undershirt off, revealing no bra. Bruce swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing, he licked his lips in anticipation, but instead of claiming his mouth again, Selina hooked her arms around his neck and bit his chin, licking downwards and sucking the sensible skin of his throat hard. She leaned back to admire her work, his skin was so fair, it was so easy to mark. She wished it was easy like that, to brand him as hers, to remind him so he wouldn’t stray again.

Wondering about his silence, she rose her gaze to his eyes, they were pitch black, her throat dried, Bruce’s mouth fell upon hers again, but didn’t last. He used her stunned oxygen deprived stage to rotate her body by her hips, pulling her thick hair aside and kissing down the nape of her neck, giving her one mark too, while his hands were free do grab her chest.

Selina moaned when he licked between her shoulder blades and pushed her hips towards his, desperate for more. By doing so, Selina felt against her backside how affected he was too, and reached behind to do something about it, but Bruce grabbed her still gloved wrist and pinned it on the counter.

“Not yet,” he told her, ignoring her annoyed huffs and continued from where he was interrupted. Selina looked over her shoulder to see him, kissing lower and lower down her back, he bit the curve of her hip kneeling on the floor, she involuntarily arched against him, and Bruce, finding that the fabric of her trousers were a problem reached for the front button. Selina helped by unhooking her whip from her belt as Bruce kissed the new revealed skin, but when he parted her soft mounds to lick her middle through her damp underwear she cried out in pleasure and shock.

She threw daggers through her eyes when she heard him chuckling.

“This morning you tried to grab my attention by making loud mess. But as Alfred is back, you’ll have to be quiet if you don’t want us to be interrupted.”

She turned around, facing him.

“I didn’t try to get your attention,” she said in arrogant tone, “I’ve got it”

He smiled again, but instead of amusement at her expense there was a mix of fondness and arousal in his eyes.

“Yeah?”

Bruce tried to stand up, but Selina hooked her leg across shoulder.

“Yes,” she leaned down, their faces inches from each other, “I still have you wrapped around my little finger, Bruce Wayne.”

Bruce’s smile disappeared and Selina’s core contracted in anticipation, he cupped under her knee, pushing her leg open and sucking her inner thigh. With each inch of skin he won, she bit her lip harder, trying so hard to not give him the satisfaction of having her loud and clear praise of his talents. Selina’s eyes rolled shut when Bruce pulled her underwear with his thumb and slid his impossibly hot tongue across her slit.

She was pretty sure she had broken her own skin, but all her efforts were nullified when he started sucking her clit and Selina cried out loud, one of her hands grabbing his hair with despair and the other reaching behind for support distrusting the capacity of the only leg she still had on the floor to keep her standing.

“Fuuuuuck,” she moaned when he started lapping, Bruce didn’t stop, his thumb let go of the fabric of her thong to penetrate her, and the combined stimulation made her fall apart, her leg giving in, pleasure mixed with horror as her fingers slipped from the hold she had on the counter. But before she had a very undignified fall, Bruce guided her body down, lying Selina on the kitchen floor.

She was still startled and still having orgasmic spasms when he started kissing up her navel.

“Staying quiet was never your strong suit, wasn’t it?” he teased.

“Well,” she breathed hard, “you could do something about it. Come here.”

He did, and she held his face as they kissed, enjoying the weight of his body over hers, the contrast of his feverish skin and the cool floor tiles. They took a break, Bruce’s forehead falling against Selina’s, his hands wandering down to her chest as she caressed his back.

“Your hand,” she remembered.

“What?” his mouth had joined his hand in the exploration of her breasts.

“When I fell and you held me-“

“It’s fine,” he mumbled.

She studied his face, trying to judge if he was being honest or just way too horny, deciding she believed him, or didn’t care enough to stop, she looked down.

“You still have your pants.”

That made him follow her gaze. And then when he sought for her face Selina smiled devilishly. She pushed him away, making Bruce fall on his back, then she rose to a kneeling position, undoing his fly. Selina used her teeth to pull her glove off before inserting her now bare hand inside the waistband. Bruce grunted when he felt her fingers close around him. He watched transfixed as she pumped a few times, and then pulled her hair behind her ear leaning in. When her lips closed around the tip, he held his breath, seeing stars.

“Hey,” she called wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Bruce remained with his eyes closed shut. “B to earth,” he heard her giggle and opened one eye, “do you have a condom? Last time we didn’t and… Better not risk it.”

He breathed in trying to remember how to process language and speech again.

“My wallet.”

“K,” she bended over him fumbling with his jeans’ pockets until she found his wallet. But when she opened it, she was surprised by a picture of herself. It was old, she should be around fourteen when it was taken, she didn’t know the picture existed and wasn’t looking at the camera. She turned the picture around trying to find more information of where it came from, but glued on the other side was a portrait of Bruce’s parents smiling to each other. Her hand shook, and she turned the picture over again, facing herself, and blinked trying to sway the tears wetting her eyes.

“Selina? Did you find it?”

She didn’t answer, not trusting her voice.

Bruce sat up, his hand caressing her back.

“Oh,” he made when he found out what was distracting her, “this…”

Selina sat of her heels, Bruce’s hand followed the change of her posture sliding up her back until he found the curve of her neck, massaging the bottom of her scalp.

“How did you get this?” She asked.

“I took it…” he said studying her expression. “Alfred found my mom’s vintage camera and I was playing with it.”

She turned her face to him.

“I don’t remember this.”

“You weren’t looking, I’m sorry,” he was now caressing her face tenderly, “are you upset I took it without telling you?”

“No, it’s just…” she closed her eyes shut. Why did he have to be so… “Where’s that damn condom?”

“Selina, I don’t un-“

She let go an exasperated sigh and pushed his wallet to his bare chest, climbing on his body.

“Find it, or I’ll fuck you without it.”

He found the object without difficulty and handed it to her.

Selina used her teeth do open the foil package.

“Do you know how to-“

“I was a virgin last time, not stupid.”

He chuckled.

“What?” she asked, rolling the condom down, Bruce hissed with the contact.

“Nothing,” he answered with a tight voice, his hands were now on her waist, wishing she was closer. “I just missed you.”

She pulled him for a kiss at the same time she guided his penis inside. Her mouth fell open breaking the kiss for a moment, before he urged her to continue, pulling her bottom lip with his teeth. Bruce’s hand, kneaded Selina’s buttocks as she swayed her hips back and forth.

As they got momentum, Bruce started thrusting his hips up to meet hers, by then Selina was being so loud, he had to cover her mouth with his hand. She came again, becoming limp in his arms, then he laid her down, without breaking their union, and proceeded to seek his own release until he collapsed over her.

They remained there, locked into each other, Selina’s hand playing with his hair, his head on her chest, Bruce felt so much at peace that he might have fallen asleep before being brought violently back to reality by a very loud British exclamation of horror.

When Bruce entered his bedchamber that night, there was someone already under the covers.

“So, what did you say to Jeeves?” she asked, as if having her on his bed as something normal and not the first time ever. Earlier, they dressed in haste and Bruce ran after Alfred to stop him from leaving again, when he went back to clean the mess in the kitchen, Selina was gone.

“A lot…” Bruce said pulling his turtleneck off and folding it. “He was worried I lied to him about fixing my life, but I convinced him.”

“How?”

“I told him” and he made a pause looking straight into her eyes, “it was you.”

“Oh…” he didn’t hide his smile when he saw the redness on her cheeks, Selina rolled her eyes.

“Won’t Barbara and Tabitha worry about you?”

“Nah,” she shrugged, “they don’t care.”

“Hmm,” he made unsure, he didn’t understand or liked Selina’s association with the two criminals that filled the space he had left in Selina’s life, but that was something he would have to deal with. After finishing his preparations, he fell on the bed and pulled Selina against him, very aware of the pleased smiled on her face.

“So…” he said kissing down her neck, “are you my girlfriend now?”

--------------------

I hope you liked this one too, and if you do, please reblog so more people can find it too <3 Have a nice week!

[artxyra]

Healing Gotham | Prologue

“Bruce, why are there so many bad things happening in Gotham?” A young Marin Etta has asked her brother. She had only been six at the time. Her brother’s hand tightly gripping her own as they walk down the streets of Gotham.

“There is nothing to see, Marin.” Bruce grunts, trudging his sister in the direction of the ice parlor that he had planned to take her too as a summer celebration. Marin Etta—or Marinette as people call her that in Paris, France—didn’t like the eighteen-year-old’s answer. She plants her feet onto the ground, halting their travel.

“Bruce,” Marin Etta pouts. Her cheeks puffing red as she fights back the tears. Wiping away the dry tear, she looks back at the street. People huddle together, some well dressed than others. She sees children around her age fighting for a piece of bread, toys, or anything really.

Bruce sighs knowing he was not going to win this battle, “Marin, Gotham isn’t exactly a nice place to live in.”

“But where you live is nice.” That it was. Wayne Manor was in the isolated compared to most places in Gotham. Where he, and somethings his sister, live is a lot better than the inner city of Gotham. Bruce loves that about his sister, she may have been a Gotham native, but she knows of the hardships and suffering those go through. She’s too pure for Gotham to taint.

“That’s because mom and dad wanted a big house.” Bruce, eyeing the other buildings know that he needs to move this conversation away, “How about that ice cream cone I promised you?” He could see the light brightening in Marin Etta’s eyes. It was small moments like those that he is grateful for having a sister despite their massive age difference. To the Wayne household, she was a miracle child. Bruce remembers the shocking face his father had made the night she told them. He had only been weeks away from turning eleven.

“Yay, ice cream! I want strawberry, Brucie!” Marinette shrieks with happiness. A small smile form on Bruce’s lips as he and his sister continue down the path.

Marin Etta was enjoying her ice cream cone when a single child then a group of children rushes by her. She was nearly pushed aside if it wasn’t for Bruce keeping a firm grip on her shoulder. Though her shirt was dirtied by drips of melting ice cream.

Wanting to see what was going on, she pushes the remains of her cone into Bruce’s hand and joins the chase. Bruce instinctively calls out for Marin Etta, but his words go on deaf ears. He should know better than to let his sister runoff; she wasn’t familiar with Gotham the way he is? Or the mere fact that her existence is the Wayne’s well-kept secret from those who want to harm their family.

Marin Etta follows the group of kids until she stumbles upon the aftermath. The group had dispersed leaving the child around her age shaking. He had bruises running down his body, a black eye that wouldn’t go away for days, maybe even weeks. Once it was clear, Marin Etta makes herself known to the poor boy.

There was no doubt in her mind that the boy was broken and scared. She takes small steps, digging into her small pockets to full out a handkerchief that Alfred had made her once. The closer to got to the boy the more it made her heart break.

“Hi,” Her voice was soft, catching the boy off guard. He curls into himself avoiding the looks. “Can I help you?” She continues to move closer. Despite the boy’s self-reserves, Marin Etta knew that he needs help but doesn’t want to say anything. It was an unspoken rule when living on the streets. Show no weakness or you’re dead. Marin Etta has no reason to hurt the boy, even more, she just wants to help. “I promise to not hurt you.” She says as she is arm’s length, which isn’t a lot, away from the boy.

Patting her handkerchief against his wound, she hopes that it would stop the bleeding. As little as she understands the wound, the kind gesture amazes the boy. He takes a good look at her.

“You’re not from around here.” He murmurs as Marin Etta’s facials turn to disappoint as she lifts the handkerchief to see the results. It wasn’t what she was expecting. Turning to the boy, Marin Etta smiles softly.

“I am from around here, I just visit.” Marinette counters folding up the handkerchief and pressing it back on the wound.

“Marin Etta!” It was Bruce’s voice, that much she can tell. Pouting, Marin Etta turns to her brother.

“He’s hurt.” She states as Bruce comes closer to the two.

“And you could have been too.” He counters entering a glaring match with a six-year-old. Marin Etta huffs and returns to her attempt to heal the boy. “I’ll call an ambulance. They can help him.”

Marin Etta continues to press harder. Bruce could tell this was going nowhere. “Marin he’ll be okay…we need to go.” He tugs onto his sister’s forearm and pulls her away from the boy. Marin Etta cries out swatting at her brother, leaving the handkerchief on the boy’s wound. The boy only looks up to Marin Etta with hope in his eyes. Marin Etta caught that and smiles in return. It wasn’t long before the loud sounds of the ambulance siren coming closer.

By the time the ambulance reaches the boy, the wounds were deeply infected, and he didn’t make it.

Alfred pours a hot tea into a teacup in front of the young Wayne. Marin Etta never looks up from the table, she wouldn’t dare look at her brother who stood off to the side.

“That was dangerous, Marin, he could have been a—” Bruce scolds but he is met with silence. He hates that his little sister wasn’t talking to him. This wasn’t like her, at all. “Marin…”

“He was scared.” Marin Etta finally speaks, her voice cracking as Alfred sets the pot down and turn motions for Bruce to come closer.

“And why was he scared, Miss Marin Etta?” Alfred had asked. He knew the little girl would have been special the moment Martha and Thomas had brought her home. But to see her down, something hiding in the back of her mind, put him at odds.

“Of the darkness…” Marin Etta murmurs, finally looking up. The two older men could see the hollowness in the six-year-old’s eyes. It put a shiver down their spines. “There’s no hope in Gotham. They all don’t believe in it. There’s so much darkness.” By this sentence, Marin Etta had wrapped her small arms around her legs.

Alfred couldn’t find it in him to scold the poor girl about her feet on the chair. Bruce didn’t know what to say. Of course, there was no hope in Gotham. With all the crime that goes on, who would even dare to have hope. Heck, even he had lost hope on a few occasions. Their parents’ death. The CPS worker determining that Marin Etta would be better off in a different home, no caring about his own needs. What gave him hope was that Alfred had convinced an old lover to allow her son to take care of Marin Etta, still giving him access to the only immediate family member he had left.

“We need to bring the hope back to Gotham. That’s the only way this city can heal.” Tears threaten to scream down her cheek. Bruce couldn’t agree more, but what can he do? He’s no police officer, no hero.

“And it will be.” Bruce doesn’t know what came over him to say that, but the way his little sister was crying in his chest told a different story. Marin Etta deserves the world; she deserves a happier native home to come back to.  Alfred couldn’t help but be touched by the brother-sister moment, though he does wonder how Bruce will honor his sister’s wishes and just how far his charge would go.

Part 1 >>

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